I make tiny shred of conscience now, yes? Is... What is word? "Vestigial."

Highly-remunerated public annoyance Sacha Baron Cohen admits, kind of, that his sneak attacks on unwitting civilians are ethically questionable: "I think you can hide behind the characters and do things that you yourself find difficult," he tells Rolling Stone. But see, Borat's a social critic, see, like Swift or Mencken: "Borat essentially works as a tool.... By himself being anti-Semitic, he lets people lower their guard and expose their own prejudice, whether it's anti-Semitism or an acceptance of anti-Semitism," he says, failing to notice that by this time the reporter has rolled his eyes and gone out for a smoke.

No, I make funtime. Smashy, smashy funtime.

I'm not saying it's a lock that if you pick on enough strangers in the street for your own mean-spirited amusement, eventually one of them will fail to appreciate the joke and will punch you in the face. I'm just saying I like the odds.

The Metaphorist Explains, Pt. 3

You know how you have a big fight with your girlfriend and she calls you an asshole and a loser and a deadbeat and she tells you she wants her CDs back, and you say: "Fine, I always wanted to go out with your best friend, anyway"? And you do, and you and the best friend get along great and she cooks for you and cleans your house and lends you money? Only then your ex gets a nose job and a butt tuck and she starts looking really good to you? And you ditch the best friend and call your ex and say "Break up with you? Are you crazy? I never broke up with you. Baby, I never stopped loving you"?

This is like that.

The Metaphorist Explains is a regular feature of Minty Goodness.

Hello Scandanavia! Are you ready to rock?

The summer's most irresistible single is here: "Do U Know," by Vincent Van Go Go. Sure, it's seven months early, but the thing is, they're Danish. And their summer is our winter, I'm pretty sure. You know: Because of the metric system.

Although you gotta admit he kills with that "Who's On First" bit.

So apparently I've had Dane Cook wrong all along. I've always thought he was all hat and no cattle -- or, to be a little less colloquial, all hype and no act. Turns out he does have an act. It's Louis CK's.

I stand corrected.

The Metaphorist Explains, Pt. 2

You know how you're about 23 or 24, just old enough to have gotten a taste of independent adult life, only you find that independent adult life, with its crushing mix of obligations and responsibilities, has just kicked your ass? And although it's the very last thing you want to do, and an admission of defeat, and a humiliation, you have to call your dad and ask him to lend you some money?

This is like that.

"The Metaphorist Explains" is a regular feature of Minty Goodness.

Why podcasts, many of which suck, are sometimes worthwhile.

Via Next Big Hit, it's PVstaff: Power pop from Norway. Who knew?

"Madcap" might be a good description, in the sense that, say, a psychotic with a Whoopie Cushion is "madcap."

If the world were fair Jessi Buchanan would wield supreme power and the global currency would be designed around an image of a guy with a paralyzing fear of forks. The world being what it is, we can just be grateful that artist/provocateur Buchanan is painting again. Even better: He's got a weblog. Which means you can now pull back the curtain and peer into his crazy pinwheel of a mind. Do it now. It's like if the Blue Man Group were one guy, and not blue, and a painter, and actually funny.

If Jerry Lee Lewis Ran The National Republican Campaign Committee.

Get up off me, son. Get them lights outta my eyes. What, now? Well, count it down then. I'm from Ferriday, Louisiana and I don't give a damn. I buried Eddie Cochran and I'll bury you.

This is Jerry Lee Lewis for the National Republican Campaign Committee. You know, them damn ol' Democrats say they're good Americans, but I tell you what: I believe there ain't a one of them wouldn't give Osama the keys to the liquor cabinet and invite him in and tell him to put his big feet up on the davenport. I'll tell you another thing...

What? Boy, you better not interrupt me. Buddy Holly interrupted me one time. Didn't end up too good for him, did it? I ain't sayin' I sabotaged his plane. All I'm sayin' is, watch your back, Killer. Step aside now. Jerry Lee's gonna lay this thing down.

This is Jerry Lee Lewis for the National Republican Campaign Committee. You go ahead on and vote Democratic if you want to. Jerry Lee's just got one thing to say: You put the gavel in that Nancy Pelosi's hand on Tuesday, we'll all wake up talking Farsi on Wednesday. I ain't lyin'. I mean she'll literally do some kinda mass hypnosis and you'll wake up Wednesday talking that Allah Akbar mess. You see if I'm wrong. I don't give a--

Boy, I swear, you do that again you'll end up in a sorghum field like Hank Ballard. That's right, you never did hear about that. And you never will. Jerry Lee Lewis sticks you in a sorghum field, you stay stuck in a damn sorghum field. I'm from Ferriday, Louisiana, Killer. Now back up off me, son. I got about one left in me. Back up off me now.

Hello, this is Jerry Lee Lewis. I ain't sayin' a Democratic majority would be good for the terrorists, but I will say this.

{Pulls a crossword puzzle from his bag and begins filling it in. Several minutes pass.}

What? Boy, didn't your mama teach you never interrupt a man when he's working on a crossword? I just about flat had that 37 Across too. Now I gotta stop and think.

{Crosses legs, gazes at ceiling and hums "The Old Rugged Cross."}

What's that? Fine, I don't care. Go ahead and break the crew for lunch. I brought my own. I only eat food I prepare with my own hands. Bill Haley made me a tuna sandwich one time, I like to died. But I got back at that sumbitch. Yes I did. Heh. You ain't heard from Bill Haley lately, have you? I didn't think so. Heh. Try to poison Jerry Lee, now. See where that gets you. Heh.

Cross-posted from The Huffington Post.

Hello, It's Democracy Calling! ...Hello?

From "My Pre-Election Day Phone Log":

Friday, 9:22 AM

"You've reached Bill Barol. Leave a message."
{Beep}
{Fifty-six seconds of silence}
"Allo! This is Aldo Moro. As a five-time prime minister of Italy, I know something about big government. So despite the fact that I was assassinated by the Red Brigades almost 30 years ago, I urge you to vote no on Proposition 90, a -- Como se dice, eh, 'pillola di veleno'? Ah, si, si -- a poison pill by developers and their political back--"
{CLICK}

...Read the whole thing at Huffington Post.

(Oh, by the way... To the phone bank guy who called me from, and I am not making this up, "888-555-1234": If you really want me to answer the phone, you should come up with a fake number that doesn't make it look like you're calling from Jim Rockford's trailer.)