August 31, 2010

Recap: Smart, and smart-ass


Hello, friends. August is almost gone, dontcha know, but this 8 billion degree weather wouldn't make you think so. Thank you for spending one of the final evening's of summer with the Big Quiz Thing, last night at (Le) Poisson Rouge. It's important to savor the good times.

Now then: You all once again proved your intelligence, with a whopping four teams posting a perfect score on both the video round (Pop Music Thesaurus) and the audio round (the Apatovian Canon). You also proved your humor, since while we didn't have an inordinate number of Smart-Ass points last night (Brett "Farv" being a loser and a crybaby was good, and IDing Sir Mix-a-Lot as "Sir Lancelot" was perhaps the best), we had a lot of clever banter among the audience and those of us on the stage. And that's certainly what I come to the Big Quiz Thing for. (And hey, guess what? Turns out I was right—manila paper is brown! Or, uh, "brownish.")

I mentioned last night that the Pop Music Thesaurus is probably my favorite of the BQT signature games, and last night enforced that belief, especially since you people seemed to enjoy it so much. (Especially "Should feminine difficulties plague you, I bear sympathy, male progeny. I am plagued by the maximum two-digit number of difficulties, yet the she-canine fails to be among them.") Not only are they fun to make, they're pretty easy, too, at least for me. I should start working on that book.

Finale time: Fat Kids, somewhat improbably, did it again, three wins in a row, this time triumphing over Jefferson Davis Starship and, represented by Elsie the Token Female, Gerard Depardouche. Fat Kid Dave won on "Tom Bosley -- best known for playing Mr. C on Happy Days -- won a Tony in 1960 for portraying what politician?" And that's what tri-peating looks like:
The standings:

1. Fat Kids Draw Apple Pie Charts: Third straight win, first time that's happened since we instituted the Three-Way Finale. Perhaps it was the voodoo fetish doll they brought with them.
2. Gerard Depardouche
3. Jefferson Davis Starship
4. Incontinental Congress/Strippers for Stephen Hawking (tie)
6. Fantastic Fournicators
7. Oh Noah You Didn't
8. Rosemary's Baby Got Back
9. Sugah Titz
10. Squirrels on Film

Next: Back at Crash Mansion September 13. Then…

The New York City Clash of the Trivia Champions is coming!
The New York City Clash of the Trivia Champions is coming! Register today, and please, tell your friends, tell your enemies, tell people you're indifferent to.

August 29, 2010

Trivia casino, Saturday night


Sorry, I've been slow with the blogging and all. More to come very soon, including—yes—the Not-So-Secret Secret Clue tomorrow.

But a quick note, since I just booked this: This Saturday night, September 4, I'll be appearing solo at a Sunset Park warehouse party organized by mega-excellent underground promoters Winkel & Balktick. It's called Stranded, and it apparently has a Chinese Imperial theme, but that will be almost completely irrelevant to what I'll be doing: I'm part of a group setting up a full Monopoly-money casino, and I'll be specifically manning a trivia table. Yes, you read that right: a trivia table at a casino. The wave of the future, my friends.

Details here. Tix are $15 ($20 at the door), but these parties are unquestionably worth it, with cheap/free food and drink, and completely unique NYC experience.

August 27, 2010

Tonight's NOT-SO-SECRET SECRET CLUE

Ready? Okay, here…all right, someone in Queens isn't ready yet. [Pause] All set? Good. Here's tonight's Not-So-Secret Secret Clue…

She thought his face was too thin.


A-HA! Good luck with that. Tonight, 7:30pm, back at (Le) Poisson Rouge. Try the grilled cheese.

August 22, 2010

Introducing…the Google-Proof Question of the Day!

The more dedicated fans of the Big Quiz Thing have long been following me, Quizmaster Noah, on that miracle of 21st-century technology, Twitter. Like most personalities (read: egomaniacs) on the Web, I use my Twitter stream to recount my day-to-day, sometimes moment-to-moment, thoughts on the world around me, albeit keeping it within the realm of general, trivia-related interest.

But previously, I'd tweet old trivia questions. It was fun, and it got a response, but it ultimately seemed pointless, since there was nothing to win. No more.

Introducing the Google-Proof Question of the Day! Every day, or thereabouts, I will post one of the BQT's trademark above-average trivia questions, cunningly crafted so that it'll take a little bit of Internet digging to come up with the answer (like, you'll have to go beyond the first page of search results). The first person to respond correctly wins one of these:
Yes! One million BQT Bucks! Introduced at July's Summer Fun Spectacular, the BQT Bucks are given out for various and sundry accomplishments in the BQT-iverse, and this qualifies. Each bill is 1 million bucks, 10 million wins you free admission to a BQT event. And yes, I deal in paper money, though I'll keep track electronically too, since I'm modern like that.

Got it? Be the first to answer correctly on Twitter, you're one tenth of the way to a free pass to a brand-new edition of the world's greatest live trivia game show. Let's go!

UPDATE: Yes, yes, I changed the name, from the Somewhat-Ungoogleable Question to the Google-Proof Question. Twitter character limits and all that.

August 17, 2010

Recap: Mysteries being solved




First of all, I think I'm getting closer to cracking the case on TMZ's post today featuring Steven Slater's head on my body. That photo of me is available via iStockphoto. I'm getting in touch with the photographer to learn what's what, but it's probably his call.

Now then, tonight's Big Quiz Thing: our long-awaited return, the first (public, NYC) BQT since July 7. Obviously, there was much news between now and then, so plenty to recap from a trivia angle: the disgusting fate that befell Kings of Leon at a concert, the operation that made Dick Cheney even creepier, the horrible pun of Sting's new album title. I didn't have room for Wyclef running for president of Haiti.

The video round, "Who the Hell Were Those People?," was fun, and I don't blame you for confusing Deng Xiaoping with Jiang Zemin. Though really, you shouldn't confuse Ken Starr for Penn Jillette. Just saying. And to the person who thought the audio-round "Time's Up!!!" gimmick was unfair, it wasn't, and besides, my trivia philosophy has always been that it's better to be creative than to be unfair. (Not really, don't get upset.)

Speaking of which, that round featured a clip from the song "Closing Time," by Semisonic (Three Doors Down? Jeez…), and I promised to tell a story about how I was responsible for its success. (Not really, but more than you'd think.) It was 1998, I was working as a peon at Rolling Stone magazine, desperately trying to get the rockist powers-that-be to let me write record reviews. I had become a Semisonic fan back in college in Minnesota, the band's home turf (they played an awesome outdoor show in our arboretum), and I got the sense that the band's record label would get behind this new album, Feeling Strangely Fine. It took some arm-twisting, but I was able to convince my bosses to run my piddling positive review in the magazine (this was pre—they ran reviews online), and it was shoved to the back of the magazine, sans illustration. But it ran, and a few months later, there was "Closing Time" coming out of every radio in the civilized world, back when that meant something. The record went platinum, and I was gone and forgotten by Rolling Stone within a year. The music biz, ladies and gents.

Back to the BQT: The Three-Way Finale pitted returning champs Fat Kids vs. Gerard Depardouche vs. Incontinental Congress (under the guise of Genghis In-Khan-tinental). No one knew about the iconic shampoo ads starring Cybill Shepherd, Cheryl Tiegs, Kim Basinger, and Brooke Shields, but the Fat Kids successfully defended their title, winning on "In 1995, what city of many millions of people officially changed its name?" Well done.
The standings:
1. Fat Kids Are Mostly Water Weight
2. Gerard Depardouche
3. Genghis In-Khan-tinental
4. Strippers for Stephen Hawking
5. Fantastic Fournicators/Hulk Hogan's Cunning Stunts

We're back at (Le) Poisson Rouge in two weeks, August 30. And register now for the NYC Clash of the Trivia Champions! $1,000, a trophy, and fucking glory, people!

August 16, 2010

I am Steven Slater's body double

Seriously.

TMZ, that paragon of soul-enriching journalism, has reported on the extremely unsurprising news that JetBlue employee/temper tantrumer Steven Slater has been offered a reality-show TV deal. And to illustrate said piece, they have done this:

Yes, sir. That is my jacket, my shirt, my fake microphone, my body!!!

The original photo here, taken by the great Clint Hild.
Jacket, of course, designed by BQT door girl Sherry.

What I really want to know is, how did they stumble upon that picture of me? Was the photo-composite artist already familiar with me and thought I'd be a good go-to body double? Or did they google a specific phrase and there I was? Interesting, since Slater is not in line to host a game show. Really, my body is pretty irrelevant in the context.

And for the record, I have no interest in watching such a show. Nor will I ever sell that fabulous jacket to the show's costume department. So there.

UPDATE: The world is on my side on this. Or at least The Awl is.

August 15, 2010

The return of THE NOT-SO-SECRET SECRET CLUE

You almost forgot, didn't you? Use this crafty hint at tonight's Big Quiz Thing (Crash Mansion, 7:30pm) when I say the word, and do better than some other people (possibly).

Perhaps the country ran on it.

Wha huh? Well, I couldn't just hand it to you on a silver platter, could I? See you tonight.

Picking Palin at the Fringe

As you're no doubt aware, every year, downtown NYC is overcome by a tidal wave of small-scale theater—some interesting, some unbearably incompetent, some perhaps a little brilliant. The New York International Fringe Festival stages several hundred shows each August, and I make a point of seeing at least one every year, and reviewing it for my day employer (and NYC Clash of the Trivia Champions sponsor), Time Out New York, whose coverage of the event is exhaustively comprehensive. (Emphasis on exhaustive, trust me.)

This year, I sampled something perfectly in tune with my political-horse-race interests, Picking Palin, a dramatization of the intimate inner-circle conferences that resulting in Sister Sarah's ascendance to über-irritant status. Read my review here—basically, it was okay, but I think you'd be much better off with this.

August 13, 2010

Sex! Sex! Sex!

Now that I have your attention… But seriously, this post is about sex. More specifically, sexual positions, which isn't always the same thing. Our culture—our pop culture, more specifically—is suffused with images and intimations of sex, but most of it seems curiously divorced from the sex act itself, with its inevitable fumbling and gracelessness. Sex isn't always sexy. (I'm reminded of the words of a pornography-averse friend who shall go unnamed: "Why in God's name would I want to watch other people have sex?")

So let's talk sexual positions. And let's talk about one of the seminal (heh) trivia books of all time, 1977's The Book of Lists.
I discovered this amazing little volume in the back of my parents' bookshelf at the age of 15, and its clever distillation of information and obscurities rocked my trivial world. (Though I've since discovered some problems with its credibility—it uncritically reports a number of "facts" that are highly unquestionable, including the unkillable rumor that Anne Boleyn, second of Henry VIII's wives, had 11 fingers, three breasts, and, perhaps, the ability to hammer nails into her nostrils.)

But the single greatest list was on pages 315–16: "6 Positions for Sexual Intercourse—In Order of Preference." Sure, it was taken from the famous Kinsey Reports, specifically the surveys of married women, so the stats were at least 25 years old and collected by a weirdo. Some of the commentary is frustratingly vague, but the details here were a major psychosexual revelation for me and the dozens of classmates I passed this around to. Let's jump right in.

Intro
We're told that one sexual expert estimates 4 million possible positions for intercourse between men and women (presumably one man and one woman). The Kama Sutra lists many of these, in many imaginative ways and under many fanciful names, such as "Two Dragons Exhausted by Battle." In other words, odds are your sex life is fucking boring.

And the rankings:
1. Man on top: In Kinsey's survey, 100% of married women reported this as their favorite position (and the only one used by 9%). Until I was about 13, I don't think I could even conceive of any other position, so this pretty much makes sense. But there's nothing inherently superior about it—as its nickname, "the missionary position," suggests, it's not very popular among non-Western cultures. What this blurb ignores is that even within the broad rubric of "man on top," there can be a lot of variation—there are a number of different things you can do with the lady's legs, for example. Also, I have no evidence, but I like to think the position has decreased somewhat in its ubiquity since the 1950s, as American women have generally become freer in expressing their sexuality, and thus probably not as many feel like it's their wifely duty to lie perfectly still and just take it. The book says chances of man-on-top conception are good, which tons of unfortunate teenagers have discovered over the years.
2. Woman on top: Popular among 45% of married women. It says that idiots don't like this position, since it seems to make the woman more masculine and the man more feminine, which is only slightly less stupid than the myth that going down on a woman makes a man gay. This one was really big among ancient cultures, judging by surviving works of art. It says it's good for women in that the man can caress her, and she's got a better chance of reaching orgasm, but it may be "too acrobatic for some women," which relies on an often broad definition of acrobatic. Chances of conception are "not good," perhaps because of gravity.
3. Side by side: Popular among 31% of women. "Good for tired or convalescent people, and premature ejaculators, as well as pregnant women." On the downside, "Doesn't allow for easy entry." As I say, sex isn't always sexy. (Chances of conception: "OK.")
4. "Rear entrance (or 'dog fashion')": That's how they term it. Frequently used by 15% of married women in the survey, though keep in mind this was in the early '50s, before watching TV became the constant leisure activity. This is the No. 1 position among our primate brothers, which leads some Americans to reject it as too animalistic and lacking in intimacy (though I bet plenty of other people love it for the same reason). Some nice notes about how it's "good for males with small penises, women with large vaginas," and that it's "exciting for men who are turned on by women's buttocks." Unfortunately, the "penis tends to fall out." Good chance of conception, though, despite the fact that Snoop Dogg has only three kids.
5. Sitting: Popular among 9% of married women. Learned by a lot of people while making out in cars, it says. (It puts "making out" in quotes.) Good one for intimacy, and apparently helps the man hold off orgasm. It also says it's helpful for pregnant women, though that can't possibly be the case if you're sitting in the backseat of a car, unless it's a limousine, and I don't think too many pregnant women fuck in limousines. The position can be tiring, and penetration is too deep to make for good odds of conception.

6. Standing: Used by 4% of women. The commentary here seems to think this is an especially "exciting" position, using the word twice (1) "Exciting, can flow from dancing, taking a shower." (2) "Has echoes of 'quickie' against alley wall with prostitute, therefore exciting." To each his/her own.

August 11, 2010

Recap: Music was indeed spectacular in Philly




Hello, or aloha, as they say in Philadelphia (hmm…). Last night, the BQT made its sophomore appearance in our nation's maiden capital, another All-Music Spectacular at the fine, fine World Café Live. The lovely Sherry (NYC door girl and linchpin of team Jefferson Davis Starship) was my guest sidekick, and the show was the culmination of a very sweltering but somehow very pleasant couple of days in the city. I hadn't spent time in the city of my mother's birth in a decade and a half, but like NYC and like Boston, Philly is the way a city should be: real, charming, historically interesting, lots of character, and reasonably walkable. And not teeming with idiots. I will die before I do the Big Quiz Thing in Phoenix or Plano or Fresno or wherever, I swear.

We stayed with an old friend, proprietress of the excellent Sazz Vintage, a clothing store in Old City where I bought a new frilly shirt and a soon-to-be-blinged-out-by-Sherry new stage jacket. We saw the Liberty Bell (smaller yet more interesting than you'd think) and what Sherry deemed a world-class museum gift shop. Best stop: the Mutter Museum. Basically a gigantic exclusively medical-themed cabinet of curiosities, the Mutter is famous (I'd heard of it years ago), and famously creepy. Giant tumors, plaster and wax casts of hideous lesions, informative models of conjoined twins (Chang and Eng definitely represent; see above), and a crapload of skeletons of everything from deformed giants to aborted fetuses (that was the most disturbing part for me). Fascinating and fun, though it would take a will of battleship iron to not get either the heebies or the jeebies from this place.

But back to the quiz: The Philly trivia geek—a hardy breed, I've discovered—is also a slippery one: Last time we were there, our questions were pitched at a far too easy level for them. This time, it felt too hard, which is probably better, all else remaining equal. And besides, a few frighteningly hard-core squads were up to the challenge, and seemed appropriately appreciative (more on that below).

But as I do with gigs like this, I whipped out some of the greatest hits. On the video tip, we did both "The World's Ugliest Musicians" and "Rock Logo-A-Go-Go." For the former, I upped the challenge by demanding that spelling counted, which definitely threw a wrench into the works. (Yes, really, it's Flavor Flav.) For the latter, I will say this: The nigh-on-impossible logo depicted below stumped everyone, but several New Yorkers were able to name the band in question back when. NYC forever!
Audio round was "Three Degrees of Musical Separation" (a.k.a. the "R. Kelly/Kelly Clarkson/Sonny and Cher" game), which is always fun, especially now that I've mastered sound-equalization technology. (Try this; it's fun.)

The three-way finale: We had Squirrel, You'll Be a Woman Soon; Naomi Campbell Blood Diamond; and, a full seven and a half points behind the second place team, Smart-Ass Points superstars Shell Shock. To be fair (and dramatic), I deemed that SS had to score three points before the others scored two, in order to come out on top. But no luck. Shell Shock did manage to know "In 1974, music critic Jon Landau wrote: “I saw rock & roll’s future and its name is BLANK," but SYBAWS was just too smart and claimed the prize with "In an incident that inspired a 1979 hit song, what did a 16-year-old San Diego girl say after she shot several teachers and students at an elementary school?" And thus:
Plus, oh-so-exciting: The champs told me that they're keen to journey NYC-ward and crash the New York City Clash of the Trivia Champions on September 27. Seriously, people, if an out-of-town team wins the $1,000 grand prize, the stain of shame will never be erased.

Very good chance that we'll be returning to Philly, though the venue has expressed interest in something a little different, a movie quiz rather than a music one. Oddly, I've never done that, but I'd be eager to try (bank on "The Bipolar Movie Challenge"). Like/friend/fan/tolerate us on Facebook to stay updated.

August 8, 2010

Presenting…The Archnemeses


From "Ideas That I Can't Believe No One Had Before" department: I recently became acquainted with an interesting new comedy film project: The Archnemeses. Check the website to get it directly from the source, but a crew of Brooklyn comedic types are creating a Web series about a pub-quiz team, seeking to defeat their rivals and perhaps solve a few mysteries along the way. Of course!

The first episode is up now—not a whole lot of quizziness apparent yet, but I'm intrigued; see below. They're raising funds for the complete shoot as we speak, including a nifty-sounding fund-raiser at Littlefield on August 25, 7pm, that I just may show up at; they're also planning to come to August 16's BQT at Crash Mansion for research (or maybe just to have fun, I'm not sure).

And especially exciting, I've got The Archnemeses on board as a sponsor for the New York City Clash of the Trivia Champions, because really, how could they not?

First episode below; I'm intrigued, will definitely check out episode two, and will finally consider Netflixing Shutter Island.




For more info, check out archnemeses.com.

August 6, 2010

Shake Shack vs. Roscoe Conkling

Sorry for the longish absence, but I'm ready for more.

Last night, finding myself with a spare hour and being in the vicinity, I stopped in Madison Square Park, specifically at Shake Shack. A beautiful summer night, so you can imagine what I encountered: a line stretching back to Western Samoa, full of eager New Yorkers clamoring for a taste of St. Louis–style comfort-food trendiness.
I'm always bemused by this. I mean, Shake Shack's burgers are pretty good, the shakes are tasty, the concretes are interesting, but this is hype of an egregious order. Especially in New York, where we have plenty of superior burger options, sans the pack mentality. (If you never have, try this place. Now. Seriously.)

No monster wait for me: I wasn't particularly hungry, so I took a place in the "B line" express lane (about one fiftieth the length of the A) and ordered a small lemonade. And I sat, and enjoyed my very tasty lemonade, and watched the line, still reaching intergalactic proportions at 9pm. And I noticed this:

It's a statue of Roscoe Conkling (1829–1888), the most powerful figure in New York State politics in 1860s–1880s period. Here's a better look:
Nice facial hair, keeping with the American-statesman archetype of the post–Civil War period. Conkling was the leader of the "Stalwart" faction of the Republican party in those years, opposing the "Half-Breeds," led by your homie and mine, "the Plumed Knight" James G. Blaine. And what a battle it was: Conkling & Co. were more in favor of the machine-style patronage politics that we all know and hate, while the Half-Breeds made halfhearted stabs at civil-service reform. On the other hand, Conkling's team was considered more "radical," in that they favored full equality for African-Americans (well, male African-Americans, at least) and harsher punishment for the defeated South. The Democrats didn't matter much at the time, having backed the wrong horse in the war.

Conkling did it all: mayor of Utica, member of the House of Representatives, enthusiastic backer of Ulysses S. Grant, major deal-making U.S. Senator, dark horse candidate for President in 1876 (he ended up throwing his support behind eventual winner and even darker horse Rutherford B. Hayes, a Half-Breed who was a compromise candidate over the hated Blaine). Conkling was even nominated for the Supreme Court and confirmed, yet declined to take his seat, which makes me wonder why anyone would go through all that trouble. Plus, he helped to write the 14th Amendment to the Constitution, which anti-immigrant wackos are currently talking about repealing, so if they really want to make that happen, they'll have to go through Conkling's ghost first.

Basically, if you wanted to get anywhere in the Republican party in the 1870s and '80s, you had to genuflect at the feet of Mr. Conkling, and his legacy among the political trivia of that era in our country's history is broad. To placate the the Stalwarts, the party made Hayes take as his running mate a nobody upstate New York congressman named William Wheeler; four years later, a similar maneuver gave the VP slot to Conkling's protégé, Chester A. Arthur, "the Mutton-Chop King."
In fact, Conkling and Arthur were so tight, when James Garfield was murdered (by Charles Guiteau, easily the most interesting assassin in American history, though don't get me started), some believed it was a plot engineered by Conkling to put his boy in the big chair. It wasn't, and when Arthur turned out to be a somewhat competent chief exec dedicated to civil-service reform, the two had a serious falling out and never made peace.

I'm rambling here, hopefully interestingly so, but the point is this: That statue of Conkling directly overlooks the interminable Shake Shack line, and I have to wonder if this bothers anyone. Despite all he did for our state's history (good or ill), his most prominent legacy now is that thousands of people stare at him while grumbling about tourists and lead-footed burger flippers. Is there a Conkling Historical Society somewhere that has protested this, a monumental (pun!) trivialization of his life of distinction? Did Danny Meyer consider this before he built the Shack at this exact place? And, to get a little supernatural for a moment, what if the soul of Conkling is trapped in the statue, and he is forever fated to watch the slothlike movement of yuppies and hipsters awaiting greasy slabs of meat? Is this his private hell for fattening his own and his buddies' coffers at the expense of the public good? Stop chewing that Burger Joint burger, then discuss.