This Monday: RAWK!

A video-round preview for Monday. We're doing "Rock Logo-a-Go-Go" (not unlike "Sports Logo-a-Go-Go" we did many moons ago). I've futzed with a few well-known rock band logos, you must ID the band (yeah, band—thought about using a few solo artists, but I ended up not). So…what's this?

Too easy? Eh, maybe. Let's see how smart you are Monday, smarty!

Plus, EDP will be out, but we'll see the return of Comical Claudia Cogan as our guest sidekick. Watch this…

June 22, 7:30pm, Crash Mansion. Twang!

NT's greatest hits, No. 14 (of 34)

Back again, continuing the series of posts about your quizmaster's favorite songs…"Strawberry Fields Forever" by the Beatles

Want to get a quick, superficial idea of someone's personality? Ask them these three questions:
1. What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?
2. Whom do you identify with more: Superman or Batman?
3. What's your favorite Beatles song?

All can be determined from an individuals answers. Mine are (1) mint chocolate chip; (2) Batman (I'm a little dark); (3) "Strawberry Fields Forever." There, now you know me. You can stop reading this blog now.

One of the things that made the Beatles so very, very great—the best rock band ever, an unbiased observer has to admit—was how they fully embraced the "experimental" side of rock music, during its first mainstream flowering, without losing sight of the melodies, rhythm and colorful lyrics that make so much rock & roll so much fun. "Strawberry Fields Forever" is a hella weird song—the title refers to a mental institution—but the playful, lilting tune can keep any listener engaged. As I've mentioned many times in this series, I love the weird, so long as the weird is in service to something that can enjoyed without the use of a slide rule and a Nietzche text.

I think of rock acts that spiraled too far down the weirdness road—Captain Beefheart is a handy icon of that. Interesting, sure, but I can't feel any of that in my soul. On the other end of the spectrum, take the Rolling Stones, whom I've loved at various points, but who have spent way too much of their career flogging the same decomposed blues-rock-decadence horse. The Beatles found the sweet spot in the center, and applied a ridiculous amount of talent to creating something of value in that place. Many things of value; "Strawberry Fields" may be my favorite Beatles song, but there's a long and lovely list of runners-up.

And yes, check out the creepy musical reprise at the end of "Strawberry Fields." Used to scare the crap out of me, especially the "Cranberry sauce"/"I buried Paul part" at the end. In my more susceptible moments, I still wonder if Paul really is dead, if Billy Shears formed Wings, and if the Beatles were really Satanic lunatics bent on destroying the youth of the Western world. Those are the days I should really leave the apartment more.

When worlds collide

Just wanted to pass along this great video from Slate (a favorite time-wasting site).

Yes, yes, it makes me want to do drugs more. But I'm more fascinated by the concept of the crossover: all the various characters owned by disparate companies teaming up for the same project, appearing together in a shared universe. I've always been of two minds about these projects. I mean, it was a thrill to witness Superman and Spider-Man clashing…
…but what are the implications? All of the DC and Marvel characters inhabit a single world? What does that mean for long-term continuity? Do the Teen Titans confront Galactus when he threatens Earth? Does the Punisher try to murder the Penguin? Is the Doom Patrol jealous of the X-Men's resources and cachet? Yes, it's just a story, but for a true comic geek, it raises too many necessary questions to answer in a single one-off publicity event.

Other times, the crossover is a neat fit, and adds a welcome richness to a series's back story. Like how it was established The Golden Girls and Empty Nest occurred in the same fictitious Miami…

(Sorry for the poor quality; a car burglar stole my Empty Nest DVD box set.) Despite the discomfiting humor here, there don't seem to be too many major reverberations to this. Blanche, Dorothy and Rose are ensconced quietly down the street. The middle-aged Floridian crises are small enough that nothing would necessarily draw the attention of unseen characters (except when it does, as in the well-handled "Hurricane Saturday" crossover event, which is woefully underdocumented on the Internet). Nice and easy.

Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue avoids any pitfalls (or benefits), of course, since the characters coexist only in the young man's pot-addled dream mind. In fact, as Slate's commentator points out, that's a fairly realistic scenario, someone blitzed on weed and dreaming about Bugs Bunny, the Muppet Babies, and the animated version of Alf all at the same time. This is genius.

Pimpin' for the day job

I scored a 63 on Time Out New York's big quiz this week: I belong here "only until [I] age out." Among the least surprising news I've gotten in many a moon. Although I disagree with the usage of the word temporary; it certainly doesn't feel like I'm just making a pit stop here.

Click on the bottom link to take it yourself. You have only yourselves to blame.

DO YOU BELONG IN NYC?
Only until you age out.
Sorry to say it, but you're a temporary New Yorker. Sure, this city is awesome for running around and enjoying your youth, but you came here to work and play hard and plan on jetting at the first signs of crow's feet or when your parents stop financing that party lifestyle of yours. Plus, if you ever decide to settle down and have kids, there's no way you're bringing them up in a studio. Click here for suggestions about how to really enjoy NYC.

Do you belong in New York City?

Big crowds, big noses, other big appendages

That's that Ripley's Believe It or Not museum wax model I was telling you about at last night's show, apropos to the question "An 18th-century British circus freak named Thomas Wedders was famous for having a seven-and-a-half-inch what?" No idea why Maggie Gyllenhaal is in the photo, though.

Ah, last night: The hottest looks and the biggest stars were in attendance at Crash Mansion for the triumphant return of the Big Quiz Thing! We played "The Flag Day Fashion Show"—saucy!

Seriously, last night was the best BQT in a while, but that's partly because it was the only one in a while. We're back on every other Monday for the summer, so have no fear.

What did we learn?

-- EDP and I have a disagreement over whether there needs to be more camaraderie among the audience. I say yes—I'm a community builder—EDP says no, let them battle it out. The crowd seems to take his side. But here's the rub: I love questions like "What word describes both of the following: An expensive type of marbled Japanese beef, and a legally challenged L.A. Lakers star?" Because while it might be easy (a "lay-up," as B-Cutie Nicki coyly put it), it's fun. Besides, you gotta throw a bone to the non–trivia geniuses.

-- Huey Lewis, apparently, is well endowed (this we learned during the question "What 1984 Huey Lewis and the News hit song mentions in its lyrics New York, L.A., D.C., San Antonio, Boston, Baton Rouge, Tulsa, Austin, Oklahoma City, Seattle and San Francisco?"). True? Debate, discuss. Or better yet, completely don't care.

-- It's pronounced "ka-PREE pants," not "CAP-ree." Like the bags of juice.

-- Someone out there was cheating, apparently. Whether it was reading off of Touched by an Uncle's answer sheet or bringing a book of flags, someone scraped the bottom of the lameness barrel. Brav-o!

The top five:

1. Cash Cab for Cute: A return to greatness. But for how long? How long!!!
2. Birds of Ill Omen 2.0: Not bad for their first quiz in a while.
3. Fantastic Fournicators: Always within spitting distance, if not the ones being spat upon.
4. Fat Kids Resort to Incest: I cannot believe I just typed those words in that order.
5. Strippers for Meredith Viera: Why the name change? Some mysterious were not meant to be answered.

Gerard Depardouche, of course, did not make it five in a row. They came in tenth place!

We're back on the 22nd. In the meantime, I'm going to try to get back on the frequent-blogging tip; I've been too busy tweeting trivia, which, let's face it, is a shitload easier and rather more au courant.

Sad, but leads me to an interesting discussion…

The death of David Carradine is unfortunate, of course—reminds of why my short-lived plan to to do an "Artists Who Killed Themselves" audio round was idiotic—but I can't pretend that I was ever a fan. I've never seen Kung Fu (for shame, I know), and I have to confess that I often confused him with his half brother Robert Carradine, star of one of my favorite movies in my callow youth.

And really, I have a bone to pick with Mr. Carradine, or at least one of his characters. In Kill Bill Vol. 2, he gives the following speech:

Interesting, but there's a problem with this that rankles my geeky soul. Yes, true, Superman didn't become Superman, he was born that way, Clark Kent is his commentary on us pitiful earthlings. But the comparison (however brief, or merely implied) with Batman is false. Batman is the same way: The costumed hero is who he really is, "Bruce Wayne"—or at least the rich dingbat that the public believes Bruce Wayne to be—is the disguise. (This point was slammed over our heads in Batman Begins.) When his parents were murdered, he essentially became Batman, even if he'd yet to concoct that specific identity; he constructed the Wayne facade to throw people off the trail. (At least, according to most continuity; you know how it is with comics.)

Silly, of course, to blame this in any way on Mr. Carradine; he didn't write that speech, and his performance was spot-on. But really, isn't flinging arrows at Quentin Tarantino just way too '90s at this point?

Super Mega Answer: Oh, Happy Days!

Back from vacation (or at least en route). Last week's Super Mega Ultra Hard Question has been answered, and the correct response is…

(Richie was played by Ron Howard. Richie's dad's name was Howard Cunningham. I cannot begin to recall how/why this popped into my head.)

Congratulations to Greg of Strippers for Stephen Hawking, who got it right and won the drawing for free admission. As a bonus, Greg posed to me the following question.

What first and last name combination is shared by a character on one TV series and an actor on another?

He also says "the shows are linked in two different ways." Any guesses? I'm stumped, but I'm probably not trying that hard. Though I do suspect that there's more than one valid answer.

As another bonus, the extended version of the Happy Days theme song (the post–"Rock Around the Clock" one). Cheesilicious goodness: