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Frontpage Interview's guest today is Dr. Theodore Dalrymple, a contributing editor to City Journal and the author of his new collection of essays Our Culture, What's Left of It: The Mandarins and the Masses.
Frontpage: Dr. Theodore Dalrymple, welcome to Frontpage Magazine. It is a pleasure to have you with us.
Dalrymple Thank you very much for having invited me.
Frontpage: It's hard to know where to start Dr. Dalrymple, as your essays evoke so many profound themes.
I guess we can begin with your observations on the root causes of many of our social ills. You discuss how in your practise as a doctor you have confronted a growing pathology in our culture within which there is an assumption that "one's state of mind, or one's mood, is or should be independent of the way one lives one's life." You connect this to people confusing unhappiness with depression. Can you talk a bit about this?
Dalrymple I have noticed the disappearance of the word 'unhappy' from common usage, and its replacement by the word 'depressed.' While unhappiness is a state of mind that is clearly the result of the circumstances of one's life, whether self-inflicted or inflicted by circumstances beyond one's control, or a mixture of both, depression is an illness that is the doctor's responsibility to cure. This is so, however one happens to be leading one's life. And the doctor, enjoined to pass no judgement that could be interpreted as moral on his patients, has no option but to play along with this deception. The result is the gross over-prescription of medication, without any reduction in unhappiness.
As you put it, there is a complete disconnection between one's state of mind and the way one lives. Moreover, one does not have a right to the pursuit of happiness, one has a right to happiness itself.
I decided, as a matter of experience, that these attitudes are very destructive and - not surprisingly - lead to a lot of misery about which a mere doctor can do nothing, at least without making judgements.
Frontpage: In your discussion of evil, you observe one central phenomenon: "the elevation of passing pleasure for oneself over the long-term misery of others to whom one owes a duty." Kindly give us some of your thoughts on this reality.
Dalrymple The idea that one's pleasure or desire of the moment is the only thing that counts leads to antisocial behaviour. Let me give a small and seemingly trivial example of this.
About half of British homes no longer have a dining table. People do not eat meals together - they graze, finding what they want in the fridge, and eating in a solitary fashion whenever they feel like it (which is usually often), irrespective of the other people in the household.
This means that they never learn that eating is a social activity (many of the prisoners in the prison in which I worked had never in their entire lives eaten at a table with another person); they never learn to discipline their conduct; they never learn that the state of their appetite at any given moment should not be the sole consideration in deciding whether to eat or not. In other words, one's own interior state is all-important in deciding when to eat. And this is the model of all their behaviour.
Young patients now eat in doctors' offices; they eat above all in the street, where of course they drop litter as unselfconsciously as horses defecate. This is not evil, though it is antisocial, but you can easily see how people who attach such importance to their own desires, and lack any other criteria to help them decide to behave, come to do evil.
Frontpage: Your observation about humans' thrill for danger and how this interrelates with humans' pattern of self destruction and the voluntary choosing of misery is very profound. Could you share your thoughts with us about this?
Dalrymple It is clear to me that people often want incompatible things. They want danger and excitement on the one hand, and safety and security on the other, and often simultaneously. Contradictory desires mean that life can never be wholly satisfying or without frustration.
I think it was Dostoyevsky who said that, even if the government were 100 per cent benevolent and arranged everything for our own good, as judged by rational criteria, we should still want to exercise our freedom by going against its dispensations.
One reason for the epidemic of self-destructiveness that has struck British, if not the whole of Western, society, is the avoidance of boredom. For people who have no transcendent purpose to their lives and cannot invent one through contributing to a cultural tradition (for example), in other words who have no religious belief and no intellectual interests to stimulate them, self-destruction and the creation of crises in their life is one way of warding off meaninglessness. I have noticed, for example, that women who frequent bad men - that is to say men who are obviously unreliable, drunken, drug-addicted, criminal, or violent, or all of them together, have often had experience of decent men who treat them well, with respect, and so forth: they are the ones with whom their relationships lasted the shortest time, because they were bored by decency. Without religion or culture (and here I mean high, or high-ish, culture) evil is very attractive. It is not boring.
Frontpage: You mention that your dad was a communist. Tell us about his world view and how this affected your family and your own intellectual journey.
Dalrymple My father was a communist though he was also a businessman. Our house was full of communist literature from the 1930s and 40s, and I remember such authors as Plekhanov and Maurice Hindus and Edgar Snow. It was always clear that my father's concern for humanity was not always matched by his concern for men, to put it mildly, for whom (as individuals) he often expressed contempt. He found it difficult to enter an equal relationship with anyone, and preferred to play Stalin to their Molotov. We had The Short Course in the house, incidentally, and one of my favourite books (which I used to leaf through as a child) was a vast picture book of the Soviet Union in 1947.
I think the great disjunction between my father's expressed ideas (and ideals) and his everyday conduct affected me, and made me suspicious of people with grand schemes of universal improvement.
Frontpage: You mention how Lenin did not want to hear Beethoven because it made a person want to pat children on the heads, a behaviour that is not synonymous with running a death cult. I have always been interested in what music represents and how it poses a great danger to totalitarianism. Today, in facing Islamism, we know that this deadly enemy also despises music (the Taliban) or most kinds of music (Khomeini). What do you think it is about music that so threatens totalist ideologies?
Dalrymple Music escapes ideological characterisation. Just as there are some social scientists who believe that what cannot be measured does not truly exist, and some psychologists used to believe that consciousness does not exist because it cannot be observed by instruments, so ideologists find anything that escapes their conceptual framework threatening - because ideologists want a simple principle, or a few simple principles, by which all things may be judged. When I was a student, I lived with a hard-line dialectical materialist who said that Schubert was a typical petit bourgeois pessimist, whose music would die out once objective causes for pessimism ceased to exist. But I suspect that even he was not entirely happy with this formulation.
Frontpage: You mention how 19th century French aristocrat, the Marquis de Custine, made several profound observations on how border guards in Russia wasted his time pushing their weight around in stupid and pointless ways, and that this is connected to the powerlessness that humans live under authoritarianism. Tell us a bit more of how this dynamic works in Russia.
Dalrymple With regard to Russia, I am not an expert, but I have an interest in the country. I believe that it is necessary to study 19th century Russian history to understand the modern world. I suspect that the characteristic of Russian authoritarianism precedes the Soviet era (if you read Custine, you will be astonished by how much of what he observed prefigured the Soviet era, which of course multiplied the tendencies a thousand times).
I suppose that people who feel little control over their own lives or destinies can obtain a slight sense of agency by interfering in the lives of others, in tiny ways. I have noticed that many of the men who are violently dictatorial at home often count for little once they pass their own threshold. They are the Stalins of their own home.
Incidentally, Custine called Nicholas I an 'eagle and insect.' I think this is a brilliant characterisation of dictators which aspire world power but who also need to enter into the tiniest and most intimate details of their citizens' existence.
Frontpage: You make the shrewd observation of how political correctness engenders evil because of "the violence that it does to people's souls by forcing them to say or imply what they do not believe, but must not question." Can you talk about this a bit?
Dalrymple Political correctness is communist propaganda writ small. In my study of communist societies, I came to the conclusion that the purpose of communist propaganda was not to persuade or convince, nor to inform, but to humiliate; and therefore, the less it corresponded to reality the better. When people are forced to remain silent when they are being told the most obvious lies, or even worse when they are forced to repeat the lies themselves, they lose once and for all their sense of probity. To assent to obvious lies is to co-operate with evil, and in some small way to become evil oneself. One's standing to resist anything is thus eroded, and even destroyed. A society of emasculated liars is easy to control. I think if you examine political correctness, it has the same effect and is intended to.
Frontpage: You discuss how Custine noted the "wide streets" of St. Petersburg and that these spaces were built this way intentionally to negate the possibility of spontaneity among the citizens and of crowds appearing to be large. It was a way to thwart the possibility of revolution. Can you expand on this a bit?
Dalrymple Custine thought that the architecture - or rather town planning - of St Petersburg made the gathering of any crowd very conspicuous, and therefore a target. He thought that people could not gather spontaneously there as they could in, say, cities with narrower streets and vistas. He also thought that the grandeur was an attempt to impress upon the citizen how small and insignificant he was, and how powerful and important the state was. Whether he was right or not with regard to Petersburg (other explanations of its grandeur are possible), it was definitely a lesson learnt by the builder of modern Pyongyang, for example, who had the fole de grandeur all right, but not the taste of the builders of Petersburg.
Frontpage: You have a fascinating essay in your collection "Why Havana Had to Die". Can you summarize the main thesis in a few sentences?
Dalrymple Havana is one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and it has perhaps the most harmonious ensemble of architecture, from the 16th to (most unusually) the middle of the 20th century. Moreover, the area over which this harmony extends is very large (i.e. it is not that enjoyed by a tiny population or elite). Hence, the city contradicts entirely the orthodox communist historiography of Cuba as an undeveloped society with a tiny rich class and everyone else deeply impoverished. Thus it was safer from Castro's point of view to let it fall into ruins than to maintain it (quite apart from an inability to do so).
It must be admitted that ruins have a charm of their own (for visitors).
Frontpage: Islamists and leftists have many things in common. One of them is that they are miserable, hate life and see cheer and joy as a dangerous enemy. You make the comment that "the acceptance of the inherent limitations of existence that is essential to happiness." Can you illuminate this a bit about life in general and also connect it to the toxic nature of Islamism and leftism?
Dalrymple I take it as given that man, having contradictory desires, is always subject to frustration, even when happy. For example, we want both adventure and safety, and when we have the one we long for the other. All forms of human happiness contain within themselves the seeds of their own decomposition.
Modern man particularly - or so it seems to me - is particularly bad at recognising that much of his unhappiness or discontent stems from this inevitable source. Rather, he blames the structure of society and thinks that a perfection that will resolve all contradictions and eliminate all frustrations can be achieved, if only we abolished private property or followed the example of the 7th century followers of Mohammed. The attempt to force people to do so gives meaning to their existence, and of course a lot of sadistic pleasure into the bargain.
Frontpage: You note that Alfred Kinsey had pierced his own foreskin and had put metal wires up his urethra. I had heard echoes of this throughout my life but didn't investigate it -- as the very idea of this reality terrifies me. But now I can't help from asking: why did he do this? Who in their right mind would do this? What was the objective?
Dalrymple Alfred Kinsey was a very strange man. He was repressed sexually until quite a late age, and then expressed his sexuality in more and more bizarre forms as he grew older. His was a classic case of the appetite increasing with the feeding. Once you are on the treadmill of exploring sensation as the key to contentment, you have to experience more and more extreme things. I think this explains the logic of artistic production and how 'transgressive' becomes a term of praise.
Frontpage: You have a fascinating essay in this collection: "Who Killed Childhood?" In it you profoundly illuminate the "egotistical inability to feel, compensated for by an outward show." You connect this to the death of childhood. Could you talk about this?
Dalrymple Childhood in large parts of modern Britain, at any rate, has been replaced by premature adulthood, or rather adolescence. Children grow up very fast but not very far. That is why it is possible for 14 year olds now to establish friendships with 26 year olds - because they know by the age of 14 all they are ever going to know.
It is important in this environment to appear knowing, or street wise, otherwise you will be taken for a weakling and exploited accordingly. Thus, feelings for others does not develop. Moreover, the model of discipline in the homes has changed, with the complete breakdown of the family (in my hospital, were it not for the Indian immigrants, the illegitimacy rate of children born there would be 100 per cent). Children grow up now in circumstances in which discipline is merely a matter of imposing the will of one person on another, it is raw power devoid of principal. Lenin's question - Who Whom or who does what to whom - is the whole basis of human relations.
Frontpage: You discuss the horrifying suffering that women endure under the vicious and sadistic structures of Islam's gender apartheid. You touch on the eerie silence of Western leftist feminists on this issue, noting "Where two pieties -- feminism and multi-culturalism -- come into conflict, the only way of preserving both is an indecent silence."
To be sure, the Left has long posed as a great champion of women's rights, gay rights, minorti rights, democratic rights etc. Yet today, it has reached out in solidarity with the most fascistic women-hating, gay-hating, minority-hating and democracy hating force on the face of the earth -- Islamism.
What gives? It's really nothing new though is it? (i.e. the Left's political pilgrimages to communist gulags etc.)
Dalrymple I think the problem here is one of a desired self-image. Tolerance is the greatest moral virtue and broadmindedness the greatest intellectual one. Moreover, no decent person can be other than a feminist. People therefore want to be both multiculturalist and feminist. But multiculturalism and feminism obviously clash; therefore, you avoid the necessity to give up one or the other merely by disregarding the phenomena. How you feel about yourself is more important to you than the state of the world.
Frontpage: How do you see the future in the context of the terror war in general and the Iraq war in particular? Are you optimistic or pessimistic? Give us some hope please.
Dalrymple I am not in fact very optimistic in the short term. At best we shall make an accommodation with the possibility of extremist action, in other words we will learn to live with it. I think the conditions that produce terrorism are not going to disappear, and I don't believe in final victory, only attrition and the fact that all things pass in the end.
In a sense, I am optimistic in that I do not beleive terrorism of the type we saw in London will ever achieve its goal. Unfortunately, it can cause a huge amount of damage in the meantime.
Frontpage: Mr. Dalrymple, I must say that it is a true pleasure and honor to speak with you. You are a fascinating individual with infinite wisdom. Thank you for gracing us with your presence.
Dalrymple Thank you for having asked me. It has been a great pleasure and an honor.
Read the entire article on the Frontpage Magazine website (new window will open). Reprinted with permission of Frontpage Magazine.


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MACON, Ga. - A Florida-based airline is delaying its plan to begin flying travelers between Middle Georgia and Atlanta.
The Telegraph of Macon (http://bit.ly/V49hRQ ) reported Wednesday that Sun Air International, based in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., planned to begin flying passengers between the Middle Georgia Regional Airport in Macon and Atlanta beginning Dec. 1.
The newspaper reports the airline will not begin service as scheduled. The reasons behind the delay are not yet clear, and a call to Sun Air Wednesday was not answered.
An order from the U.S. Department of Transportation will allow GeorgiaSkies to continue flying passengers between Macon and Atlanta until Dec. 22 or longer.
Sun Air International planned to offer four flights on weekdays and two flights per day on weekends at a one-way rate of $44.


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Hi all! This is something I did last year, but thought I'd finally share. I wrote a PC-based PC emulator some years ago, and later wanted to see how it worked on a microcontroller. So, I ripped the CPU core and a few other bits out, and got to work. I originally tried this with an Arduino Mega2560. It worked. Very, very slowly. Turns out AVRs don't make the best CPU emulators! Thanks to Paul for putting out these great little boards!
Like the title says, it's an 8086 (actually 80186) PC emulator based around a Teensy 3.6. It uses as much fast native RAM as it can, but then digs into SPI RAM to complete the 640 KB range you'd find in an old PC. It supports CGA graphics on an LCD screen and lets you plug in a PS2 keyboard. It uses raw access to an SD card as a hard disk.
It's no speed demon, but it runs well enough for MOST old programs you'd have come across in the 80's when overclocked to 240 MHz. Some other software is pretty painful, like Ultima 6. That was really aimed at 286+ anyway though. The main thing slowing it down is waiting for SPI communications with the RAM and LCD.
If anybody is interested in the code to create your own or hack it up a bit, I'll be sharing it probably tomorrow. I'll come back and edit the post. It's been a while since I wrote this, and want to make sure I remember all the different libraries used so I can link to them. I need to glance over the code again.
Here's a pic and some video. My soldering is terrible, and sorry for the shaky video.


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How does your freshwater system sound when hooked up to city water?
WOW! You did a great job on fixing your "lemon". I just read this whole thread and followed your repairs. AWESOME job! It looks perfect! I went and looked at a camper a while back at that same dealership, although it was a new one. Ended up buying out of state because they had exactly what I was looking for. What part of Georgia are you in? I live just northeast of Athens and have a deeded membership to Mountain Lakes Resort near Cleveland.
That's the first thing I checked, I could not hear or see any leaks . It makes the spraying sound only when the pump is running. Shouldn't it should off automatically once everything is pressurized?
Really there isn't much time to relaxThat's why it took me as long to fix the camper as it did , I squeezed it in around all the rest .We have a small farm with horses and there is always something that needs fixed or just regular maintenance, heck I got 3 acres to mow just around the house and all the stuff I have is old. So there is not much rest, but I believe I will be on this earth a little while longer than if I was wasting away on a porch
Yes it will shut off when it reaches a preset setting inside the pump.
I watched TV and then went and got ribs and beer. I'm worn out.[/quoteI feel foy ya😩
It never does 😕
Is the water tank gravity fill only or is there a valve that diverts the city water to fill the tank? If there is a valve when left in "fill" pump will run continuously with no pressure build up. Don't ask how I know that ! Howard
At some point in the near future you should repack the bearings. New grease pumped in doesn't mean the grease is good where it counts.
It looks like it has been repacked, they even supplied new dust covers🙂
I am completely rebuilding Class C over cab bunk. Can yo tell me, how to modify the exterior front corner trim, to make it wider so that it doesn't leak again. Thanks!
I can't believe someone is asking me for advice on repairs, some how I've fooled all of you in to thinking that I know what I'm doing😃
The pictures you posted above are worth thousands of words. And as for asking you for advice, well, you are miles ahead of those of us who have not taken on the task that you completed. Give yourself a little credit.
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Seahawks' Richard Sherman injures ankle in Super Bowl XLVIII
With his team waiting out the final ticks on the clock to celebrate the culmination of a spectacular season, Seattle Seahawks' cornerback stood on the sideline with crutches and protective boot on his foot.
Sherman left Super Bowl XLVIII in the fourth quarter after sustaining an ankle injury. By that point, there was no need to return, even if he could have. Seattle was on its way to stitching up the 43-8 victory over the Denver Broncos.
MORE: Malcolm Smith MVP | Seahawks' victory parade | Defense extinguishes Broncos
Sherman had to be helped off the field and then rode on a cart to the locker room. With 11:28 left, Sherman closed on a play break up a pass intended for Demaryius Thomas. The score was 43-8 and Sherman had done his fair part in shutting the Broncos down in a fashion that no one saw coming.
#Seahawks Richard Sherman has high ankle sprain, X-rays negative. Won't stop him from celebrating in parade. pic.twitter.com/bNqnD9J2m0
— SN's Vinnie Iyer (@vinnieiyer) February 3, 2014
In the offseason Seattle will turn its attention to restructuring Sherman's contract. He enters the final year of his deal going into 2014. NFL.com reports that Seattle's bigger priority is making a deal with safety Earl Thomas first, along with defensive end Michael Bennett.


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They must be trying a little rebranding… they're not very good at it. They're sending around flyers with adorable drawings of men in white sheets and a hood, recruiting for new members.
Sounds…enticing. And the picture so inviting. And when you read closer, you discover it's the same old KKK white bigotry under a new name, the Traditionalist American Knights.
If you've ever wanted to have a conversation with a real-live good ol' redneck bigot, go ahead and call that number. I'm afraid all you'll get is a machine with a recording about fighting for the white race…unfortunately, all in a Southern accent that isn't going to help the stereotyping in the slightest.
Maybe if all of you give them a call, some time or another they'll actually pick up the phone, and then you can have a little chat with them about how ugly their hatred is.


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Its knuckle claws secrete a toxin so vile that even a scratch could prove fatal.
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Basement Into Bedroom Ideas is something that you are looking for and we have it right here.
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Co-founder and Marketing Director Tijana Desancic, shares some insights on her amazing trip to the 'Honouring the Academy Awards' official Gifting Suite in LA this year and how the brands point of difference and social media got her there!
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Co-founder and Marketing Director Tijana Desancic, shares some insights on her amazing trip to the 'Honouring the Academy Awards' official Gifting Suite in LA this year and how the brands point of difference and social media got her there!
The city of Melbourne is world-renowned for its coffee culture. Although we are not close enough to the equatorial line to grow our own coffee beans, we know absolutely everything about the commodity: where in the world the best ones are, how to expertly roast them and exactly what to use them for.
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Video Sources 470 Views
A fictionalized account of the early life of the American president as a young lawyer facing his greatest court case. Ten years in the life of Abraham Lincoln, before he became known to his nation and the world. He moves from a Kentucky cabin to Springfield, Illinois, to begin his law practice. He defends two men accused of murder in a political brawl, suffers the death of his girlfriend Ann, courts his future wife Mary Todd, and agrees to go into politics.
Original title Young Mr. Lincoln
IMDb Rating 7.6 6,592 votes
TMDb Rating 7.5 83 votes
Abraham Lincoln
Abigail Clay
Mary Todd
Sarah Clay
Efe Turner
Ann Rutledge
Matt Clay
Prosecutor John Felder
Carrie Sue (credit only)
Adam Clay


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Clifford Johnson Elementary School Pre-K-2nd Grade Program
Warrenville, Illinois
User Capacity: 131
Dedicated Play Space: 2,095 sq. ft.
Fundraising Goal: $138,578
About Clifford Johnson Elementary School: features an outdated playground. The only play equipment in the yard is a single, antiquated swing that is designed for use by children with limiting physical disabilities.
In addition to schoolchildren, the playground is a regular recreational destination for grandparents and parents in the community. They visit the grounds for park district sporting events and play with their young family members. Unfortunately, Henry Puffer?s playground no longer aligns with many of the current safety guidelines.


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Vilu Reef Beach & Spa Resort
A luxurious emerald island poised amidst shimmering pools of turquoise and sapphire. A vision of paradise – even before you set foot on the island. Sprawled across the entire expanse of Meedhuffushi Island in South Nilandhe Atoll, 128km south of Male' International Airport, Vilu Reef Beach & Spa Resort never fails to create a breathtaking first impression, rivaled only by the experience of embracing the island's beauty up close. Blessed with pristine beaches and lush greenery, this unspoilt island boasts a treasure trove of gems that await discovery by every guest. The island is reached by a 35 minute picturesque journey by seaplane.


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Thanks for participating in this contest. I share your enthusiasm for realistic YA, so I'm happy to introduce my novel COMING UP NEXT.
If you want to meet your father, get on the plane.
When high school grad Jason Wells gets this IM, life as he knows it is turned upside down: he's never known who his father is. So why now? And what's with the jet?
Things get even more surreal when Jason learns that his long-lost dad is family TV icon Alex Reno, who's headline news after getting caught with his pants down (literally) with his 20-year-old costar. The twist is, Alex finds out about Jason for the first time, too--he had a one-night fling with Jason's mom, and she never told either of them.
The network flies Jason to
COMING UP NEXT is my debut novel, but I've been a WGA member since 1997. I worked for several years as a screenwriter and TV writer under the tutelage of Diane English (creator of Murphy Brown and writer/director of The Women), and I've spent the past decade or so in the advertising trenches as a copywriter and art director. You can interact with me on Twitter or via my blog IsThereSomethingIShouldKnow.tumblr.com.
Per the contest rules, the first 250 words follow the break. Thank you for your consideration, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Best regards,
If you want to meet your father, get on the plane.
The text looks like any other, black words in a pill-shaped bubble on my phone, but the gravity of what it means lands like a punch to the stomach. I've never known who my dad is. It sounds like some Bible belt hillbilly joke, but getting pregnant at twenty wasn't something my mom planned on, and I'm the nine-month dividend of her forgotten one-night stand. She swears she never regretted her decision to keep me, but nobody wants to check the "single mom" box on career day. It's something we don't talk about.
My heart's pounding. A sleek white jet sits inside the airfield, and a guy who must be the pilot stands beside it. He adjusts his aviators. Somewhere in the distance a dog barks.
I read the text again. Who sent it? And why? Why now?
Just what I need. I start college at the end of summer, but instead of being this chill new adventure, the thought of it makes my stomach hurt. My girlfriend Charlie's got big plans for us--coordinated schedules, matching Greek houses, an apartment together as upperclassmen--all the premeditations she mapped out (literally, in PowerPoint on her dad's laptop) when we started going out junior year. Back then it was exhilarating having a girl like Charlie imagine a future with me, but I don't want anybody flowcharting the next four years of my life before I even go through freshman orientation.


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Just because David Silver grew up hot doesn't mean he grew up worthy. Some things should simply never, ever, ever be uttered you know? Some things are so sacred it's a travesty for the undeserving to even think it. A travesty and a f&cking crime.
That Brian Austin Green would like to play The Riddler in the next Batman movie.
What.The.F7ck is wrong with you???
Here's what he told MTV:
"I would love to be the Riddler. I'd like to be in the next 'Batman,' even though I am busy killing machines and people (on Terminator Sarah Connor). I hope to God that they don't try to replace Heath and have the Joker. And Two-Face is gone. (So they need a new villain), and the Riddler makes sense. That's impossible to answer now (how I would approach the role). That would take years of preparation. It's tough. Heath set the bar at a new level, which I think is fantastic for comic book lovers and movie lovers. He changed the face of what people expect out of those films. If you watch the old ones, I mean, they were great for what they were, having Danny Elfman's music, but this is a new level."
It's not like it'll happen. Hell no.
It's not like he has a chance. Hell no.
But it's the insolence. It's the audacity. It's the equivalent of Ebola Paris Hilton as Princess Diana in a biopic about her life. It's Stephenie Meyer being compared to JKR. It's 1 + 1 = 14.
It's fundamentally WRONG.
And it's wrong for him to even THINK it. To even hope for it. To even dream he could ever, ever be in the same sentence as Heath Ledger.
It. Is. Wrong.
Sit DOWN David Silver.
Stick with your piddly little tv show and trapping your underage girlfriend. But please... please step OFF The Batman.
Friday, August 15, 2008 at 7:54 AM
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Claremont-Mudd-Scripps softball player and Claremont McKenna College sophomore Hayley Schultz is featured in the March 4, 2013 issue of Sports Illustrated's "Faces in the Crowd" which is SI's weekly feature that highlights standout amateur athletes and has been doing so since 1956. The issue is available here online and will be on newsstands on Monday, March 4.
Schultz, a right-handed pitcher, threw a complete-game five-hitter to defeat preseason NAIA No. 1 Cal State-San Marcos 6-0 on February 9. She became just the second pitcher to shut out San Marcos in 67 games dating back to last season. She also threw a complete-game shutout in the Athenas' season opener (1-0 over Azusa Pacific). Schultz, last season's Southern California Intercollegiate Athletic Conference newcomer of the year and National Fastpitch Coaches Association second team All-West Region selection, is 4-1 with a 1.44 ERA this season.
It is believed that Schultz is one of the first, if not the first CMS student-athlete to be featured in Faces in the Crowd.


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Next week, Martin McDonagh's Seven Psychopaths hits theaters. The film centers on a screenwriter (Colin Farrell) suffering writer's block, who then gets drawn into the mayhem created by his two dog-napping friends (Sam Rockwell and Christopher Walken) after they kidnap a shih tzu belonging to a psychotic gangster (Woody Harrelson). CBS Films is premiering special posters for the film, and we're proud to debut Chris Thornley's art for Harrelson's character. The studio is also asking fans to create a new poster, and CBS Films wants you as the psychopath.
Hit the jump for more details. and to see Thornley's full poster. Seven Psychopaths opens October 12th. Click here to read my review.
First up, here's the full poster:
And here's more information on Thornley (click here for his official website):
Based in the UK, Chris' work has appeared in exhibition across the globe in both solo and group shows. His work has been featured in publications such as The New York Times, The Washington Post, Semi Permanent Book, MacUser, Computer Arts and Digital Arts. He has won numerous awards including the Lancashire award for creativity, Adobe creativity award – character design, AOI Images 33 – Silver award and 3×3 – Distinguished Merit.
If you want to create the seventh and final poster, then you need to become the seventh psychopath by casting yourself as a character in the film. Upload your original work of art to the film's official Facebook page, and the winning artwork will be posted and featured.
Finally, here's the official synopsis for Seven Psychopaths:
Written and Directed by Oscar®-winner Martin McDonagh, the comedy Seven Psychopaths follows a struggling screenwriter (Colin Farrell) who inadvertently becomes entangled in the Los Angeles criminal underworld after his oddball friends (Christopher Walken and Sam Rockwell) kidnap a gangster's (Woody Harrelson) beloved Shih Tzu. Co-starring Abbie Cornish, Tom Waits, Olga Kurylenko and Zeljko Ivanek.


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Our Search for the Best Fried Chicken in San Francisco Part 2: East Asian-Style
Hey, remember our intensive, extensive search for the best fried chicken in San Francisco? Remember Part One, where we tirelessly tracked Southern-style fried chicken, from Bayview legends to dicey late-night gas station stops?
We do too. And we apologize for the, erm, extensive delay in bringing you Part Two of our quest: the best East Asian-style fried chicken in San Francisco. Time may have passed, but our passion for fried poultry has not. Thankfully, San Francisco is a city rich with options, giving us plenty to taste and judge accordingly.
Of course, some fried chicken qualifiers remain consistent regardless of style: the crispness of the crust, the adherence of the crust to the skin, the flavor and texture of the chicken. But when gauging chicken of the Asian variety, we've found it important to judge the specific dimensions of flavor, the accompanying sauces, and the chicken parts made available (wings, vs. nuggets, vs. whole or half chickens).
Why just East Asian? We found something of a deficit of Southeast Asian options available (especially when excluding south and east bay options)—those most memorable tended to fall under a 'creative fusion' classification more often than not (see: Kronnerburger, Chubby Noodle. Andy Ricker, we're ready for you...). Narrowing the boundaries to include Japanese, Chinese, and Korean fried chicken provided us with plenty of delicious options to recommend.
And so, without further ado, our 8 picks for the best East Asian fried chicken San Francisco has to offer. We strove for accuracy whenever possible—when presented with a late-night Korean fried chicken joint open until 3 am, we did our best to show up in the wee hours. We paired our chicken eating with the appropriate beer, when possible. And, you may notice a seemingly glaring omission—the dry-fried chicken from San Tung—but before you curse our decision-making (and stand in their interminable line), you may want to check out the incredibly similar (and in our humble opinion, superior) chicken available in SOMA.
The Results!
- Chicken with Explosive Chili Pepper at Z&Y Restaurant
- Chicken Wings at SO
- Spicy Chicken Wings at Toyose
- KFC at Aria Korean Snack Bar
- Fried Garlic Chicken at Cocobang
- Kara-age Chicken at Izakaya Yuzuki
- Chicken Wings at Nombe
Tell us: where are your favorite spots to get Asian-influenced fried chicken, East Asian or otherwise?
And, stay tuned for Part Three—fried chicken sandwiches! Got tips? Tell us in the comments.
All products linked here have been independently selected by our editors. We may earn a commission on purchases, as described in our affiliate policy.


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Chad Johnson is damaged. But as he sits on the patio of the Pelican Hotel on a Thursday afternoon, the holes in his life are hidden. It's been nearly two years since Johnson last suited up for the National Football League, but he still looks the part. His muscles bulge. His veins pop. Tucked under a table spread with shrimp and lobster, the long legs that destroyed defenses for more than 11,000 yards are scarred but still intact. The hands that once caught 67 touchdowns now juggle a pair of gold-plated iPhones incessantly buzzing with tweets.
The smile is still there too. Wide and white and razor sharp. The same one that graced Sports Illustrated covers, cereal boxes, and reality TV series. The same one that lured hundreds of women into bed.
But Johnson doesn't flash it like he used to. Not since last summer, when a moment of madness destroyed what should have been the best days of his life.
See also: Chad Johnson's Comeback Photo Outtakes
"I lost the two things I loved most at the same time," he says, his dark eyes suddenly dampening. "Football... and Evelyn."
"The incident," as he calls it, occurred August 11, 2012. That was the night cops arrested him for head-butting his wife, Evelyn Lozada, a beautiful but volatile reality TV star. In a matter of hours, he was released by the Miami Dolphins, dumped by Lozada, and demonized by the media as a domestically violent monster.
See also: Chad Johnson's Comeback Photo Outtakes
So, a year later, Chad Johnson is damaged goods. One of the greatest wide receivers in football history is now apparently unemployable. As his former teammates enter the preseason, he spends his days people-watching on Ocean Drive in South Beach. Johnson might be physically fit enough for an NFL comeback, but his reputation remains in tatters. To most Americans, he is just another spoiled celebrity who blew it all. Or, even worse, a cautionary tale of how the violence of men's professional sports spills over into their private lives.
Yet there is more to Johnson. Long before becoming an NFL bad boy, he was just a kid trying to escape the drugs and death of Liberty City. Once he did make it big, the self-described "weirdo" broke as many rules as records. He danced with the stars, changed his name to Ochocinco, and paid a small fortune in fines for his extravagant touchdown celebrations. He raced a horse on foot, rode a bucking bull, and burned through mountains of money. But he didn't do it all because he's an asshole. He did it because it was fun.
"I never did anything wrong except celebrating," he says of his antics. "Football is a cutthroat business. Why not add a little entertainment?"
Then came the arrest. Johnson has fallen from football grace, but he hasn't been forgotten. Sports may be gone, but the spotlight is still fixed on him. And under its glare, entertainment can quickly become embarrassment, then ignominy. Now that he's been accused of domestic violence, his jokes aren't as funny anymore. Tweets about killer whales and his supposed eight-month celibacy don't sit quite right.
Without football, his online buffoonery has spiraled out of control. But amid the booty tweets and orca Instagram-ming, there are also hints that there's more to what really happened that night last August, when life blindsided Johnson like a strong safety. Hints that he might not be the villain he's been made out to be.
On a tropical Thursday morning in late June, $50 million of NFL talent is packed into tiny Tequesta Trace Park in Weston. Chicago Bears all-star Brandon Marshall grimaces as he sprints through the fetid summer air, his massive feet blurring as they weave in and out of a rope ladder. Behind him wait a half-dozen others, including second-year Bears receiver Alshon Jeffrey and Cleveland Browns cornerback Akeem Auguste. Sweat soaks their shirts. Steam rises from their heads. And growls escape their throats. They are hungry for the season to begin. Chad Johnson, however, isn't here.
"He's not on Twitter yet," says trainer Matt Gates, glancing at his phone. "So he must be asleep still."
Forty minutes later, a cream-colored Cadillac Escalade rolls into the parking lot. Johnson saunters out looking sleepy-eyed and wearing black Cincinnati Bengals sweatpants and rainbow-hued Asics.
As the other athletes take turns pulling gates behind them like a sled, Johnson stretches slowly and painfully on the sidelines. Finally, he takes his place beside Marshall. Two inches taller, 40 pounds of muscle stronger, and six years younger, Marshall is now where Johnson was seven seasons ago: at the top of the league. Looking at them side by side is like staring at the NFL's past and present.
Johnson clips a bungee cord around his waist. He crouches and then bursts into top gear with a snarl like a soda can bursting open. But he gets in only a few sprints before the training session is over. Someone asks why he was so late.
"Too many women in my bed this morning," he says with a mischievous smile before adding, "Nah. It was Bible study."
Neither one is true. Twelve months after Johnson's arrest cut short his contract with the Miami Dolphins, the legendary wide receiver is in limbo. Johnson is 35 years old in a league dominated by men a decade younger. His body is still an obsidian sculpture, but it aches like never before. And even if he can still fly, does he want to anymore?
Three decades after he learned the game on the streets of Liberty City, football is still the only structure in Johnson's life. He wakes up every morning at 5 a.m. to lift weights in his million-dollar Davie mansion and then works out again just four hours later. From 2003 to 2009, this dedication helped make him the most explosive player in the NFL. He earned five Pro Bowl selections and nearly $9 million a year.
But by 2010, his final year in Cincinnati, his numbers had begun to drop. A big-money move to the New England Patriots in 2011 turned into a disaster, with the once-great receiver catching just 15 passes all season.
That set the stage for last summer's comeback. Johnson got serious. He ditched the name Ochocinco, married Lozada, and signed with his hometown team, the Miami Dolphins.
Then came the head-butt heard around the world, and Johnson's career screeched to a sudden and scandalous stop. The precise moment was captured on the HBO reality TV program Hard Knocks, when Dolphins head coach Joe Philbin axed a contrite Johnson on air.
"I let you down a little bit — a lot," Johnson began. "I apologize for embarrassing you, this organization, my teammates." But it was too late. Philbin fired him anyway.
A year after his onscreen humiliation, Johnson still believes in his own abilities. It's the league in which he's lost faith.
"The world knows I can still play," he says. "There is nothing wrong with me... They just don't want to deal with what comes along with bringing in Chad."
A few days after showing up late to training, Johnson is burning to get back on the field. He pulls into the parking lot of St. Thomas Aquinas High School in Fort Lauderdale with Andrea Bocelli echoing inside his Escalade.
Marshall is there, along with Jeffrey, Auguste, Kansas City Chiefs tight end Anthony Fasano, and Seattle Seahawks quarterback Brady Quinn.
Quinn, shirtless and absurdly inflated like an action figurine, starts rifling passes. Johnson rises high in the air like a fish breaking water, his body forming an inverted Y as he catches the ball. But he also drops a couple of passes, each accompanied by a scream of "Fuck you, man!" directed more at himself than anyone else.
Lightning begins to ripple on the horizon. Soon, an alarm blares, cutting the workout short. As raindrops fall on the synthetic turf, Johnson tells Quinn he wants him to air one out. They line up near the goal line. With a growl, Johnson takes off downfield. Quinn drops back and heaves the ball into the air.
It spirals through space, arching in front of the aging receiver's outstretched hands, and hits the ground with a thud.
"I've been celibate for eight months," Chad Johnson tells the stranger next to him. She has mocha skin, highlighted brown hair, and dark sunglasses hiding Lisa Turtle-like looks. She is also drunk. Johnson is sober, double-fisting cranberry juice and Red Bull. He doesn't know her name, but then again, it's been only five minutes since he plucked her from the crowd along Ocean Drive and sat her next to him at the Pelican.
"Really? Me, a year," she declares just as implausibly. Johnson sets his iPhone down midtweet and leans in close.
"Would you like to make love to me?" he asks in a low voice.
"Would you like to make love to me?" she shoots back.
"Given that it's been so long, a year, eight months, fuck it, why not?" he says nonchalantly. "I'm warning you, though, I get emotionally attached after that shit."
This is Johnson's life now. Without football, what was once a lazy offseason now stretches year-round. Every afternoon he drives an hour south from his house to the Pelican or David's Café on South Beach. There he sits. For hours. Sometimes until midnight. Tweeting random thoughts to his nearly 4 million followers. (One recent nugget of wisdom: "Pick a big girl to date, the sex is phenomenal.")
Instead of dueling with defensive backs, Johnson now battles boredom. He flirts with thousands of women, all while claiming to be celibate and heartbroken. He tweets nonstop. Most of all, he tries to forget about Evelyn.
Johnson began tweeting during his final season in Cincinnati. "At first he didn't get it," says his younger brother, Chauncy. "Now he's addicted." Women send him scandalous photos. Men seek his advice about sex and videogames. Some days, Johnson tweets more than 200 times.
"They know everything [about me] because I put it all out there," he says of his Twitter followers. Whereas most celebrities are guarded, Johnson is proudly unfiltered. "I tweet it all... I've got nothing to hide."
Without a wife or team to rein Johnson in, his antics often go viral. In April, he was hanging out at David's Café when a homeless man named Pork Chop asked him for change to buy beer. Johnson bought the man a 24-pack but told him he had to sit and have dinner with him. Then he took Pork Chop to Urban Outfitters, South Beach nightclub Cameo, and a strip club. He documented their outing with photos on Twitter and Instagram.
"No wife?" Johnson says half-seriously. "Fuck it. I've got Pork Chop."
The photos exploded on the internet, and Pork Chop became an overnight celebrity. Strangers began giving him money and taking him to clubs.
But some Twitter users took offense. "I hope he's not helping this homeless guy just to get attention," one woman wrote. And like so many of Johnson's adventures, his relationship with Pork Chop hasn't exactly gone according to plan. Pork Chop's new clothes were almost instantly stolen. And the footballer's attempts to find his homeless friend a job and a home were rebuffed.
"To get him a job, I'd have to clean him up, get him teeth, get him to stop drinking... I'm not equipped to do all that," Johnson says.
Besides, Johnson has worries of his own — like staying out of jail. On May 7, Broward judge Kathleen McHugh ordered Johnson's arrest for skipping three months of meetings with his probation officer. His attorney Adam Swickle negotiated a deal to avoid jail time, but when Johnson slapped the lawyer on the ass in celebration, the judge angrily sentenced him to a month behind bars.
"When I had to go do the 30, my first thought was, Shit, if I can sit eight or nine hours in one spot and people-watch, I can do the time," he says.
He didn't have to. The judge let him out after seven days. Johnson sent her flowers and a pair of Louboutins as an apology. "That's not bribery," he explains. "That's just how I am."
There are days when Chad Johnson needs something more than Twitter or a table at David's Café — days when he feels himself slipping beneath the waves. Today is one of those days.
Dancing around the Fit Speed gym in his rainbow Asics, he appears happy. But then he catches sight of the TV set tuned to ESPN. His former Patriots teammate Aaron Hernandez has been arrested for murder. A pall settles over Johnson. A year ago, it was him in the headlines being portrayed as a monster. A New Times reporter asks him about the case, but for once, the voluble Johnson goes quiet. A minute passes. Rihanna croons about finding love in a hopeless place.
"I'm thinking about going to the Seaquarium to see the killer whales," Johnson says suddenly. "I don't give a fuck about the show — I just want to see the motherfuckers."
That afternoon, he cruises up to Miami Seaquarium in a matte black Mercury Marauder. The teenage employees at the front greet him by name.
Johnson walks up to the giant tank, leans over, and stares silently at the monstrous fin slicing the water in front of him. This is his therapy, his Zen. Sometimes he hangs out here three times a week.
He takes a seat in the stadium. The bleachers fill with people, some of whom sheepishly file up to Johnson for a photograph. He obliges. But when the show begins, his eyes return to the tank.
"This is Lolita, the killer whale!" a trainer announces through loudspeakers. Suddenly, the 7,000-pound creature bursts into the air — all 40 feet of her — before crashing back into the water.
"That's fucking..." Johnson says, his voice trailing off in disbelief.
His grandmother, Bessie Mae Flowers, first took him to the Seaquarium. He was a kid from the concrete streets of Liberty City who had never seen wildlife. "She was the first thing I ever saw that was outside the norm of what I was used to," he says of Lolita.
But it's more than nostalgia that pulls him here. It's sympathy. The man and his orca are eerily similar: Fast and powerful, both have spent their lives performing athletic tricks for strangers. Both are too smart for their own good. And both can be dangerous.
"They kill great whites," he says in awe. "Who are their predators, except for man?" In 2010, a trainer at SeaWorld Orlando was killed by an orca. "But that's in captivity," Johnson points out. "There has never been a single orca attack on humans in the wild."
After the show ends and the soaked audience squelches out of the stadium, Johnson asks Lolita's trainer if he can feed the killer whale. Still dripping from the performance, Heather Keenan tells him he can do even better: He can kiss Lolita.
Johnson's eyes widen with excitement. He strips off his blue and red Jordans and clamors onto the tank's narrow walkway. He waits nervously on his knees. Like a stealth submarine, the orca silently emerges from the water headfirst. Her mouth opens a foot from Johnson's face, exposing sharp six-inch teeth.
The animal lifts herself out of the tank toward him, but at the last moment, Johnson pulls back. The trainers burst out laughing. Keenan tosses fish into Lolita's mouth and tells Johnson to try again. This time, he leans in and plants his lips on Lolita's tongue.
Johnson jumps up as if celebrating a touchdown. His smile is back. "I don't need a woman when I'm tonguing a killer whale," he says on his way out of the Seaquarium. "My life is made."
If there are clues as to why Chad Johnson is the way he is — the women, the wild touchdown celebrations, the orcas, the rocky reality TV relationship and divorce — they are buried inside the mind of Bessie Mae Flowers.
Most days, the 80-year-old can be found sitting on the porch of her pretty but poorly kept house on the corner of NW 44th Street and 11th Avenue. There are only a few hints that her grandson is a famous football player: the BMW in the driveway and the faded black NFL equipment shorts she wears.
It was Flowers who raised Johnson after everyone else abandoned him. His father was a drug dealer who was locked up shortly after Chad was born. His mother had her own demons, which drove her to disappear when he was 5 years old.
Flowers remembers coming home from her job as a Miami Beach elementary school teacher to discover that her daughter had left for Los Angeles. Paula Johnson had taken Chad's younger brother, Chauncy, and would have taken Chad too if James Flowers hadn't intervened. "My husband wasn't going to let him go," Bessie Mae says. "He felt she wasn't going to take care of him."
Instead, Chad grew up calling his grandparents mommy and daddy. To this day, he hardly speaks to his mother. She is the reason a player with a party-boy reputation has never had an alcoholic drink in his life.
"The drugs, the cocaine, the heroin. She's a full-fledged Lindsay Lohan," he says of his mother. "That's why she wasn't able to raise me."
The abandonment left Chad with an insatiable urge to prove himself. It was a blessing on the football field and a curse off of it. His quest for attention drove him to dominate his Optimist League opponents but also landed him in detention. "Some of his teachers thought he was funny," Bessie Mae says. "But I didn't." She spent a good chunk of her salary to put Chad into Temple Beth Sholom and then enrolled him at Nautilus Middle School and Miami Beach Senior High, where she could keep an eye on him, dropping him off each morning and picking him up after practice.
Back in Liberty City, she bought arcade games to put on the porch so he wouldn't venture into a neighborhood rife with crack and crime.
A few of Chad's friends were killed. Many others went to prison for selling drugs. Trent Frazier, who was two years older than Chad and was called Rep, tried to keep his younger friend out of the game. "He was trying to come one way, and I pushed him back the other way," says Rep, who was arrested for selling cocaine in 2003. "I was caught up, but I felt like that life wasn't for him."
But Bessie Mae couldn't keep Chad out of trouble completely. He went looking for it, skipping school and getting arrested for trespassing when he was 18 (the charges were dropped). He starred on Beach High's football team, first as a quarterback and later as a wide receiver, but his grades were terrible.
Nor could the causeway keep the violence of Liberty City at bay. Bessie's husband James was the boy's biggest fan. He never missed a game. So Chad knew something was wrong when his grandpa didn't show up to a playoff against Hialeah-Miami Lakes High. James had been shot and killed at a party.
Between the tragedy and Johnson's general disdain for school, his grades sank so far that he couldn't get into the University of Miami, the University of Florida, or Florida State, all of which had recruited him. Instead, Johnson went to the small, historically black Langston University in Oklahoma. He hated it and returned to Miami without playing a single snap.
Bessie Mae decided to do the only thing she could think of: send him to live with his mom. It was there, in California, at Santa Monica College, that a young coach saved Johnson's career.
"You could see that he was an athlete, but he didn't understand how routes worked, how coverage worked. I had to break him down and build him up," Charlie Collins says. That included Johnson's image.
"When I met Chad, he always had these gold teeth in his mouth," Collins says. "I was trying to clean him up, get him ready for the draft. But for Chad, putting in those gold teeth was like Batman putting on his cape."
So Collins threw them away. Johnson freaked out, but he played better without them. (He later bought some more.) Collins was part father, part coach. Under his guidance, Johnson became a top NFL prospect. After two years, he jumped to Oregon State, where he caught 33 passes for 713 yards and six touchdowns. He showed up at the NFL combine in a banana-yellow tracksuit, but he slipped during his 40-yard-dash and was drafted 36th by the Cincinnati Bengals.
The team was terrible, finishing 4-12 before Johnson arrived. But the brazen rookie would bring a ray of light to the basement of the AFC North. "I made it fun in Cincinnati," he says. "Nobody watched the Bungles, man... I made Cincinnati relevant and fun to watch as a fan."
In his first full season as a pro, Johnson caught 69 passes for 1,166 yards and five touchdowns. The next year, 2003, he had twice the number of TDs and made the Pro Bowl for the first time.
Suddenly, the boy who wanted attention had more than he could handle. He began planning outlandish touchdown celebrations, from doing an Irish jig to pretending to propose to a cheerleader to tossing presents into the crowd at Christmas. NFL officials fined him thousands, but Johnson didn't care.
"I wasn't doing it for them," he says. "It was for the 9-to-5s who really couldn't afford tickets but were sitting in the stands anyways."
Johnson became the first wide receiver to break 1,000 yards in six straight seasons, but the Bengals kept sucking. The team topped .500 only twice during the decade he played for it and never won a playoff game.
Yet Johnson got caught up in his own hype. He began hitting the clubs (though not drinking), buying half-million-dollar cars, and officially changed his name to Chad Ochocinco (after his jersey number). He also hired mega-agent Drew Rosenhaus in 2005. Three years later, Johnson publicly pushed for a trade out of Cincinnati.
"Sometimes you can have so much success that you think you are invincible," Collins says. "I think the league viewed him as a clown when he changed his name."
But even as Johnson was earning a reputation as a selfish player, he was anything but that off the field. He would hand out sneakers to kids on the streets of Cincinnati or buy everyone in line at Toys "R" Us their Christmas gifts. And he organized and footed the bill for massive dinners for his Twitter fans. He often visited Rep in prison. "When you go away to prison, people forget about you easy," Rep says. "Chad never forgot about me."
After enduring another miserable 4-12 season in 2010, Johnson finally got the trade he wanted. He joined the perennial title favorite New England Patriots. But it was a move that some observers thought made more sense for Rosenhaus than for the wide receiver.
"I think he was manipulated by Drew Rosenhaus," Collins says. (Rosenhaus declined to comment.)
The team went 13-3, but quarterback Tom Brady almost never threw to Johnson. In the Super Bowl against the New York Giants, Johnson caught the one pass that was thrown to him for a 21-yard gain. But after the Patriots lost, they cut him.
Ochocinco was out of a job, but in love.
The sun was setting as Chad Johnson's neighbor turned into the Long Lake Ranches gated community. His son had just finished a little-league football game, and the car smelled sweetly of sweat as he swung into the family's driveway. But the man suddenly stopped short. Caught in his headlights was a female figure standing in front of his house.
He recognized her from television. But now there was blood flowing from the beautiful woman's forehead. He ushered her inside and called 911.
"I have someone here at my house who was in a little domestic dispute," the man told the dispatcher. "Let's not make a big scene when the police get here. We're worried that he's going to get mad, and he's a high-profile person."
Ten minutes later, Davie Police officers arrived and arrested Chad Johnson for battery. Paramedics took Evelyn Lozada to the hospital and stitched up her lacerated forehead, but not before taking photos that would later go viral on the internet.
The explosive end to their short marriage shouldn't have been a surprise. They were a ticking time bomb, lit on Twitter and accelerated by reality TV. But what really happened that night? It's a question that Chad isn't eager to discuss but one whose answer might be more complex than it seems.
Their relationship began via Twitter in late 2010. On November 28, Johnson tweeted, "@Evelynlozada for X-Mas I got you a year supply of four loko, edible panties from Ashley Stewart and a 100 dollar Starbucks card."The buxom 37-year-old Lozada was already on Basketball Wives because of her longtime relationship with NBA player Antoine Walker, but dating Johnson made her the show's undisputed star. Born in the Bronx to Puerto Rican parents, Lozada had a taste for the good life — Walker claims he spent millions on her — but a terrible temper.
"I always say I don't have a medium. When that trigger goes off, it's [full-blown]," Lozada said of her anger in an interview on the Oprah Winfrey Network.
Johnson and Lozada dated for a year, and he became a regular on her reality TV show. When the Patriots cut Johnson in June 2012, Lozada moved to Davie with him so he could play for the Dolphins. They announced plans for a July 4 wedding. But Johnson's family and friends had their doubts.
"I told him: 'You're not going to make it with that girl,'" Bessie Mae says with a sigh. "But men see things in women that other women don't, I guess."
Charlie Collins gave his former player the same warning."I just thought it wasn't love," he says. "It was fiction... It was a reality show, but it wasn't reality."
There were other warning signs: wine bottles that Lozada threw at her rivals on Basketball Wives, internet rumors about affairs on both sides. But the wedding went ahead, with Johnson tweeting from the altar.
Five weeks later, Johnson's arrest shattered what little of the celebrity fairy tale was still intact.
This much they both agree on: The altercation began when Lozada found a receipt for condoms in Johnson's cubicle-size black Smart Car. The two sat inside the minuscule vehicle and argued about their marriage.
"As they were talking, Johnson became upset and without Lozada's permission grabbed her head and head-butted her on the forehead, causing a laceration," according to the Davie Police report. "He began screaming, 'I don't give a fuck! I don't give a fuck about my career!' Lozada then fled on foot to a neighbor's house to get away from Johnson."
Johnson agreed with the bulk of that story in a police interview, with one key difference: Lozada was the one who screamed "Fuck it!" before head-butting him, he said. He then went for a drive "to give her time to calm down," he told the cops.
Lozada pressed charges and went on ABC to tell her side of the story. "I knew that he was lying [about buying the condoms for a friend]," she said. "I told him: 'I'm not sticking by you through this. I don't care if my marriage is the laughingstock of the world.' And then the next thing I know, he head-butted me."
Lozada declined to comment.
Johnson quietly pleaded no contest to domestic battery and escaped with one year of probation. Lozada divorced him three days later.
The breakup crushed Johnson. "I sat with him on his grandma's porch as he cried," Rep says. "The truth is, he loved her. That I can definitely say. Whatever else really happened... I don't know."
Bessie Mae is more blunt. "He had no business head-butting her," she says. "But how are you gonna jump up after the first fight and run and get a divorce? She must not have loved him. But he loved her like crazy. Still does."
Bessie Mae retreats into her dark house and emerges with a painting of Johnson's wedding day. Lozada looks like a princess in her white gown. Johnson wears a tux and what used to be his ever-present smile.
"If it were me, I'd tell her to take seven steps to Hell and leave me alone," Bessie Mae says. "But he can't do that. He'd rather stay right there waiting for her."
"I need to start a new autobiography," Chad Johnson says. Sitting in the kitchen that Lozada redecorated in bright red, he munches on a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. "It would be the perfect time for it. It'd be called The Rise and the Fall and the Climb Back Up or some shit like that."
After the drama, the domestic violence, and the divorce, Johnson wouldn't have any trouble getting a book deal. But an autobiography at this point would be premature. The last few chapters of his climb back up are still under construction. Time is running out on his NFL comeback. And his relationship with Lozada remains more mysterious than ever.
Whether it's orca love, Twitter therapy, or anger management, Johnson's attitude toward the NFL has become a Zen koan. He is both restless and at peace, eager to go out the right way and accepting he is already gone from the game.
"I would like to finish the right way," he says. "But if it doesn't happen, I'm OK because I played the game my way. I didn't play it under their rules or their guidelines. I played the game the same way I was brought up to play it: It's about fun."
Collins, for one, has urged him to ask the Bengals for a tryout. He believes a few more good years might get the player into the Hall of Fame. But Johnson has yet to dial his old coaches. "He's conflicted about the possibility of being told no, of being rejected," Collins says.
Johnson says he couldn't care less about the Hall of Fame. "People say, 'Oh, you're not a Hall of Famer. What about your legacy?' That's not what I played the game for, to appease you and what your definition of greatness is. Greatness was making it the fuck out of Liberty City."
When it comes to his other great loss — Lozada — he is both sad and surprisingly combative.
"Somebody on Twitter asked me yesterday if I still love Evelyn," he says. "My answer was, 'Till I stop breathing.'"
Johnson moves to the back patio. He lights a Montecristo cigar and stretches his legs, one of which still bears the tattoo of Lozada's face he had inked just days after their divorce. Then, for the first time, he talks about that night. What really happened? Why would he head-butt the woman he loves and throw away all he has worked for?
At first he is reluctant. "I don't really want to talk about her too much. It's gone. I've moved on. But cool, man, she went her way; I went mine. She knows how I feel, and I know how she feels. So it's cool."
Asked about the police report, however, Johnson sticks by his story: that his beautiful but hotheaded wife blew up at him after finding out he was cheating, that she filled the tiny Smart Car with her angry screams, and that she head-butted him.
"I never talk about that, you know that? For a reason. Let her tell her side. And my job is to cover the story, no matter what. And that's what I've done, and it's going to stay that way," he says.
Lozada did have a documented history of violent outbursts onscreen. And a Change.org petition demanding that VH1 take her off the air for her "physical assaults, threats, verbal abuse, and harassment" garnered almost 30,000 signatures. Is Johnson really suggesting he took the fall for her?
"I'm supposed to," he says. "She's the wife. That's my job. To cover the story. That's the way I was taught. That's the way I was raised. If I'm your dad and I know you did something wrong, I don't have a choice but to cover the story for you, whether you're right or wrong. So for me, whether right or wrong or indifferent, if that's who I've committed to even though I messed up, I'm covering the story for her no matter what. No matter what. Whether it's my fault or her fault. Whether she antagonized me. Whether she pushed my buttons. You know what? You're right. Period."
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It's a hard story to buy — a musclebound athlete getting head-butted by his much smaller, model wife. But Johnson won't be further drawn out on the details. Chad Johnson, the attention seeker, does not want the spotlight on this one — even though it means everyone thinks he's an asshole.
He puffs on his cigar and stares out at a life without Lozada. "Even at my lowest, I'm still winning," he says. Then he lays out his post-NFL plans: television, maybe movies, and definitely a trip to Norway to dive with killer whales in the wild.
"I'm going to own an orca or maybe a whole fucking pod," he says. "I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I'm going to own a private island. And I'm going to own an orca. I'm not going to own it where it's going to be caged. I'm going to own it where they are going to know me and they are going to be lured in by food.
"I have it all figured out," he says. "I have it all figured out."


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Would anyone like to volunteer for sorting out some routes and leading a laning group? Only need 2 people.
Re: Laning
Yeah, I'll lead..
I'll get looking and planning. Saturday, right?
South East Picnic site information
| Jessica - 2002 Isuzu Trooper Insignia LWB | 3.1 ltr hybrid conversion |
Re: Laning
Nice one thanks Jim yep Saturday
Re: Laning
You may want to look at lanes Leicestershire way as most if not all lanes around northampton will either be closed or still tor'd.
I cant help with route but just so you are awares....
Re: Laning
Yeah, it's unfortunate but Northamptonshire don't open until May 1st, so they're out.
I'll see what I can come up with
South East Picnic site information
| Jessica - 2002 Isuzu Trooper Insignia LWB | 3.1 ltr hybrid conversion |
Re: Laning
Still need a second leader
Re: Laning
What time will we be rolling out? Just so I know when to get to the site by (I'm only there for Saturday)
My 2.8 shorty - now sold, and comments here
My old dti - now sold
"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "WOW --- What a Ride!"
This vehicle runs on 100% recycled dinosaurs
Re: Laning
Same for me me I won't be arriving till saturday and want to make sure I'm not there too late
Re: Laning
Re: Laning
Have fun and don't get too lost...
This posting may have been helpfull, on the other hand probably not... Either way, I may have had drink when posting it in which case it's probably not as helpfull as it could have been
Work safe, and remember all technical problems can be resolved with a hammer, the trick is knowing where to hit it and how big a hammer to use (I often find it may also help to have a spare bit in the shed to replace the bit you have just mullered )
Work in Progress (or not as the case may be) I give you.... 'O-no' the truck.
Comments on 'O-no' the truck may be left here
Work in Progress (or not as the case may be) I give you.... 'Truck'
Comments on 'Truck' the truck may be left here
Owning a 2.8 is a hobby in it's self...
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Calle de José Ortega y Gasset
We are delighted to share that your Tiffany boutique is now open. Our Sales Professionals are happy to assist you with any enquiry, to book a private consultation, select a Tiffany piece to collect or to alternatively have it delivered to you. If you would like to contact us ahead of your visit, please do so by telephone or e-mail.
We look forward to welcoming you back.
Mon-Sat: 10:30-20:30
Sun: Closed
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Diamond Engagement Ring Consultation
The ultimate symbol of true love, Tiffany diamond engagement rings are renowned for their exceptional quality and unrivaled brilliance. Need help selecting the right one? Schedule an appointment with one of our Tiffany Diamond Experts to view extraordinary designs and matching wedding bands, or customize your own engagement ring. We're here to ensure a confident proposal.
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Jewelry Cleaning & Repair
Bring your Tiffany jewelry in for professional servicing to protect its beauty for years. Our experts are knowledgeable and experienced in all aspects of jewelry care and repair, including: ring sizing, cleaning diamond and gemstone jewelry, polishing sterling silver, gold, platinum and other precious metals, repairing clasps and earring backs, converting earring backs to clips or posts, lengthening or shortening bracelets and necklaces, restringing pearls.
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Watch Repair & Sales
Tiffany watches are distinguished by their superlative craftsmanship and design innovation. Whether you're looking for a new watch for business or casual wear, we'll help you select the best timepiece for your style. Already own a Tiffany watch that needs servicing? Bring it in for regular maintenance to ensure excellent performance.


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Get a team together & have a hoot!
Fun prizes all night, with $100 Park Place Lodge Pub Gift Certificate going to the first place team.
The fun starts at 8:00pm every Thursday - come early to get seats. Free entry! $15 Burger Specials.
Traditional Pub Trivia format, hosted by Roger & Goffles on a rotating basis.


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Sometimes it's entertaining to be a little extreme. I find myself doing it all the time when I blog. Sometimes it helps me vet myself for the real world. I can work out ideas, write stuff down, and then look back on it and decide with a clear mind whether I agree with everything I wrote. Sometime I look back on something I wrote and think "Genius!", but other times I look back over the words that came out of my mind in confusion or embarrassment.
That's what this little blog is for – its a research and development portal for ideas. In real life I think I'm much more agreeable. I would never take on an issue such as healthcare, atheism, or the economy with an casual friend. People (including myself) sometimes get too emotional about certain issues.
I think sometimes we people get too caught up in an idea. An idea like "I support Romney" or "I support Obama" and forget the essential issue of taking care of you neighbor and doing the right thing. It's ultimately not about Republican or Democrat. Realistically, those guys and gals running things (most of them) care little or nothing about our neighborhoods, our lives, or what we do from day to day. What we can control is how we treat each other.
Reasonable Requests
I want people to have easy access to healthcare. I don't want to watch Americans (or anyone else) kill each other in war. I want every child in America to have the opportunity for an outstanding education. I want every adult to be able to marry whoever they want, engage in any activity they want, live anywhere they want, and act any way they please – as long as they aren't hurting anyone else in the process.
I want people to be able to believe as they please and practice those beliefs, but respect those who believe differently. I want people to be able to spread those ideas, say what's on their mind, and criticize those they think are wrong – as long as it's peacefully. I want privacy in my own home, I want my tax dollars spent on projects that promote the longevity of this country, and I don't want to burden the future of America with a debt that cannot be repaid.
There may be different ideas about how to get there, but I think all of these ideas are reasonable. We are all Americans – above that and more importantly we are all People. Let's take care of each other.
Different Ideas – Same Goal
There have been many a time I have witnesses two intelligent, good people become enemies because of different ideologies. At our core most of us want the same things. We don't think its fair when a kid goes hungry and another kid gets an iPad. We want every sick person to get better. We want everyone who has to live in project housing in bad neighborhoods to rise above it.
I was that kid, I know first hand it's not fair! I'm thankful everyday for the teachers, people, and even Government that helped me get through it. I can testify to the fact that any one of those things on their own could NOT have saved me. I needed all of them. I think it's important to remember that.
Maybe you disagree who or how we can get past these obstacles, but when you meet a person who cares enough about these ideas to do something about it – don't discount them because you disagree about the politics of an issue – embrace them because you both care enough about humanity to do something to fix it.


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Dylan Dilinjah (From Making Da Band) - Swagga Like Us Freestyle [Reggae Edition]
Swagga Like Us (Reggae Version) Dylan Dilinjah from Making The Band. Shout out to Mazi O
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Gearing to Go Pamphlets - Snowboarders
Gearing To Go
Member Price: $25.00
Retail Price: $30.00
The Gearing to Go Pamphlets provide information for new snow sport participants on how to prepare for their first experience on snow. These products can be easily integrated into the rental shop and boot fitting areas, base lodge, snow sport school, and resort marketing activities. Includes: what to wear on snow, information on renting equipment and taking lessons, and illustrations for putting on boots and using equipment. Sold in quantities of 100.


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Annual Roadway Maintenance Projects
The City of Palm Springs Public Works Department conducts street maintenance throughout the City as part of its ongoing effort to maintain and upgrade City roadways. Over the years, a combination of desert heat, traffic, water infiltration and aging asphalt have contributed to roadway deterioration. Maintenance of city streets involves crackfilling and applying slurry seal to some streets. Slurry seal is used to seal the surface and preclude further pavement deterioration, but it is not meant to reduce pavement cracking as a more expensive asphalt overlay would. Maintenance for badly deteriorated streets involves cold milling and overlaying new asphalt concrete. For street condition ratings through out the City, see out Pavement Management page.
The work will be done by a contractor working for the City, and a Contract Inspector will monitor the contractor's work. When the project is complete, roadway pavement life will be protected and extended. Roadway preparation is a necessity and all pavement cracks will be sprayed with weed killer, cleaned and filled with crackfill material or asphalt for nice even level for the slurry. The contractor will distribute a Notice of Construction to affected residents 72 hours before slurry seal work begins. Approximately 48 hours before work begins, the contractor will post No Parking/No Driving signs showing road closure dates. On the day of construction, the affected street will be closed to all traffic. Please note that existing parking restrictions will be enforced in the affected areas. Pavement maintenance activity in residential neighborhoods will generally take place Monday through Friday between 7 a.m. and 3 p.m. (except at Airport locations). If necessary, weekend work on arterial streets will occur on an "as-needed" basis after 48 hour notification. New street surfaces will be ready for use several hours after application, and the City will work closely with the contractor to minimize inconvenience to motorists, residents, and businesses. However, delays due to temporary lane and street closures should be expected.
What you can do to help expedite and complete the project on time?
• KEEP children and pets away from the construction;
• ADHERE to the No Parking notice;
• DO NOT run water onto the street the night before or during the application;
• DO NOT drive on the Slurry Seal before it has properly cured to avoid damaging both the integrity of the surface and, in some cases, the vehicle's paint; and
• AVOID turning the front tires on your vehicle while stopped, and starting or stopping quickly during the first few weeks after the application to avoid creating divots in the slurry sealed surfaces. Try to turn the wheels only while moving.
What is Slurry Seal?
Slurry Seal is preventive road maintenance. Water-resistant slurry surface treatments (or seals) are thin overlays which seal minor pavement cracks and oxidized pavements, restore surface texture and skid resistance, correct raveling, and reduce noise. It will not, however, improve the ride quality of a street. Slurry seal is used to extend the life of cracked pavement, but it is not meant to eliminate pavement cracking as a more expensive asphalt overlay would.
Application of Slurry Seal is a two-step process. First, surface cracks are filled and surface patching is done. Several days after the crack sealing and surface patching, the Slurry Seal is applied. Streets will be closed to both parking and driving during the application although limited driving will be allowed in case of emergency. Normal driving and parking will be allowed after the Contractor removes the No Parking signs at the end of the working day. Slurry Seal requires only a few hours to dry before traffic can drive over it but it takes 24 to 48 hours to cure completely. During the first few weeks after the slurry seal application, residents should avoid excessive steering of their vehicle while it is standing still, or starting or stopping quickly as this may cause tire tracks and scuff marks on the surface.
What are Cold Milling and Asphalt Overlay?
Cold Milling (also referred to as cold plane or grinding) is the controlled removal of the surface of the existing pavement to a pre-determined depth with specially designed milling equipment. Hot-mix asphalt, applied over the milled surface to the pre-existing elevation, providing an improved ride quality and extends pavement life.
The first step in this process is to "edge-mill" the build-up of existing asphalt along the gutters to allow a smooth transition of the new surface. Next, the remainder of the road is milled down 1 1/2 =" - 2", and finally, an asphalt overlay is placed on the top. During this phase, parking is prohibited and the street is closed or restricted to vehicular traffic. Once the asphalt is placed and compacted, the street is re-opened to traffic. Finalizing the work Once the slurry seal has cured, there is final inspection of all streets. Any issues are resolved and re-striping is completed on affected streets. When the asphalt overlay is completed, all manholes and valve box covers are raised to grade. Any final issues are resolved and previously affected streets are re-striped.


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Ahoy: Dr. Freud
If you're a careful reader of PMY (and I'm sure you are), then you've probably perused a recent boat test of mine ("Cost Effective," May 2009) that dwelled in part upon the difficulties I had returning a 50-footer to her slip after a sea trial during the Miami International Boat Show. The episode did not constitute a true horror show by any means, but the events were embarrassing enough. Sure, my self-esteem got hammered, but the boat didn't—no pilings were pranged, no gelcoat got whacked, and no gears were stripped, other than my own. "And hey," I exclaimed toward the end of the extravaganza, "Nobody was injured!"
All things have pluses and minuses, of course. And most likely the plus side of my little misadventure was the giant slab of humble pie I had to eat, a bitter but fitting development actually, given my propensity to morph into The Great Bill every now and again, especially during big boat shows where I occasionally run into readers who give me compliments that go to my head faster than a jackass'll eat an apple. But a vexatious thing happened as well: a lowdown, mind-messing funk settled in and lingered until an eye doctor told me I'd been battling depth-perception problems for months, an excellent and uplifting excuse for my bunglings if ever there was one.
The funk was not a new phenomenon, however. The darn thing's paid me many a visit over the years and almost always takes hold when some sort of slip-up or shortcoming in the boat-handling realm—even a mild one—suffuses my psyche with gloom, thereby undermining my sense of well-being and confidence as a man. Indeed, let me successfully squeeze a vessel of some type into a difficult slip and I'll be in fine fettle for months thereafter. But let me experience even a whiff of discombobulation while sidling up to a dock in a rented fifteen-foot canoe and I immediately start spiraling into a black hole, psychologically speaking, and languish there for days, even weeks, all listless, feckless, and funky.
The problem's not half as mysterious as it used to be, though, thanks to an article on Freudian psychiatry I tapped into recently as I was thumbing through the magazines (and squinting) in the eye doctor's waiting room. While the theme was disturbingly and deeply informative, I unfortunately can't quite remember the title and only had time to read about half of the really good parts. But I'm nevertheless feeling a heck of a lot more enlightened. For boat handlers like me who occasionally feel listless, feckless, and funky after screwing up, it helps to know the underlying causes. Takes the edge off, right?
So here's the Freudian deal. Apparently, my deplorable and long-standing tendency to let boathandling goofs mess with my sense of self-worth stems from a series of soul-shattering events that seriously whomped me during my young and formative years. From what I can tell, there are three of them: The first is such a humdinger I can't really go into it here (except to say it involved a disastrous encounter with a marine head, a scruffy manual-type installed on a lapstrake Scandinavian Folkboat). The second is pretty bad too, so I'm gonna skip it as well (except to say it involved a disastrous encounter with a young girl named Trudy who I was trying to impress with my handling of an old canvas canoe that I'd regrettably patched with asphalt shingles and roofing cement). But it's the third event that continues to contaminate the wellsprings of my mind.
The story goes like this. I was a young and exceptionally callow mate working onboard an old and somewhat rumpled 197-foot supply boat, which at the time was docked port-side-to along an industrial stretch of the Atchafalaya River in Morgan City, Louisiana. Both the skipper (a rather sarcastic old guy from the neighboring hamlet of Thibodaux) and I were on the back deck of said vessel overseeing loading preparations when a request came from the crew of an oceangoing tug double-parked on our starboard side. The tug, it seemed, needed to swap places for a bit so she could offload a couple of items and effect a fast departure for the coast of Texas. "Want me to move the boat, Cap?" I asked with such wild enthusiasm I absolutely forgot I'd never done much of anything with a supply boat before, let alone maneuvered one around a crowded dock.
This article originally appeared in the May 2009 issue of Power & Motoryacht magazine.