From Salon:

In a conference call with reporters just now, Sen. Joe Biden, who has been under fire since this morning for statements he made about fellow Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama in an interview with the New York Observer, was forced to do some damage control; what he gave was essentially a nondenial denial.

Biden had told Observer reporter Jason Horowitz that in Obama “you got the first mainstream African-American who is articulate and bright and clean and a nice-looking guy … I mean, that’s a storybook, man.” The conference call, which our own Walter Shapiro participated in, was supposed to be about Biden’s recent reannouncement of his candidacy, but he found himself repeatedly sidetracked by his earlier comments.

All told, Biden got four questions on the subject. After the first, he told reporters that “I regret that some may have taken out of context my use of the word ‘clean.’” After the second, he started to get testy, mentioned his long support of the African-American community in his home state of Delaware and finally likened his comment to his mother’s use of the phrase “clean as a whistle.” After the third, he said, “I have spoken to Sen. Obama and I recommend that you call him. He understood exactly what I meant and I have no doubt that Jesse Jackson and every other black leader (Al Sharpton and the rest) will know what I meant. I have a long, long relationship with these folks. And we have been allies — and no one is going to misunderstand it.They know what I was saying. What you all know and everybody else knows: This is a very special guy. This is like catching lightning in a jar. This is a guy who has come along in a way that has captured the imagination of the country in the way that no one else has. That was exactly the point of everything I was saying.”

This is hardly the first time Biden has made a gaffe like this; in July, he was caught on tape saying, “In Delaware, the largest growth in population is Indian-Americans moving from India. You cannot go to a 7-Eleven or a Dunkin’ Donuts unless you have a slight Indian accent. I’m not joking.”

Eek. I remember when Biden made that comment about the Indian workers at the 7-11. I don’t care what excuse he uses, dude just doesn’t get it. I don’t know that it makes him a racist, per se, but it sure shows that he has no idea what you should or should not say in public.

All right, I swore I wouldn’t say this, but I must: sorry I haven’t posted in so long. Ack. There, it’s out.

To make up for it, here are some time wasting links:

Donnie Davies: Matt turned me on to this last week. If I was a good little blogger I would have posted it immediately, but I am not. By now, you’ve probably seen it. Here’s the synopsis: dude records a song called “God Hates Fags.” A web search reveals that he has a few different websites promoting his “C.H.O.P.S.” program (Changing Homosexuals into Ordinary People) and his “Love God’s Way” ministry. Seemingly, however, the dude didn’t exist before last week.

I assumed it was some kind of marketing thing, but the Internets are still abuzz with people who think it’s real. You can judge for yourself. Start at the bottom of the link above and work your way up. To me, his acting, dialogue, and writings seem more stilted than a Christopher Guest character, but maybe you’ll have a different opinion.

8th Graders do OK Go: This warms my heart.

Greg Kotis in LA Times: This is the best thing I’ve read about writing, maybe ever, by the guy who created Urinetown. I cut this article out of the newspaper so that I can save it for posterity. That’s a lie. I didn’t cut it out yet. I did save it from recycling, though, which should count for something.

A fine website about quality design in everyday objects. I like quality designs. I also like everyday objects. A winning combination!

From the AP:

President Bush has authorized U.S. forces in Iraq to take whatever actions are necessary to counter Iranian agents deemed a threat to American troops or the public at large, the White House said Friday.

“It makes sense that if somebody’s trying to harm our troops, or stop us from achieving our goal, or killing innocent citizens in Iraq, that we will stop them,” Bush said. “It’s an obligation we all have … to protect our folks and achieve our goal.”

The aggressive new policy came in response to intelligence that Iran is supporting terrorists inside Iraq and is providing bombs — known as improvised explosive devices — and other equipment to anti-U.S. insurgents.

“The president and his national security team over the last several months have continued to receive information that Iranians were supplying IED equipment and or training that was being used to harm American soldiers,” National Security Council spokesman Gordon Johndroe said.

A couple of questions: 1 - how the Hell are US soldiers supposed to know who’s Iranian and who’s Iraqi? 2 - why would they need to get George Bush’s permission to shoot people who were trying to kill them? 3 - where is this information coming from? Iranians are building improvised bombs and giving them to Iraqis?

Why would they do that? And why should we trust anything that comes from this administration? Apparently, the AP still seems to think they’re on the level. According to the article, this “new policy” (apparently soldiers were NOT allowed to shoot at people who were trying to blow them up before) is a response to “intelligence that Iran is supporting terrorists inside Iraq.” This is not alleged intelligence, mind you — it is 100% certain, according to the ever-inquisitive AP, that Iran is supporting terrorism.

Watching this painfully slow build-up to war with Iran is like watching a dog trying to get to a bone on the other side of a fence. Even though he can’t climb under the fence, he keeps sticking his snout under anyway, hoping that maybe this time it will be different.

As I’ve reported before, there are few things I love more than a bulletin board discussion filled with idiotic comments. My man Com$tock dissects a choice discussion happening over at The Weather Channel. Goddamn, that guy is smart.

Okay, I lied. I am posting one thing. Mediabistro today features an interview with my friend and business partner Jessica Dukes about our publishing venture, Contemporary Press. Jessica did a great job of representing what we believe as a company. I feel inspired. If you feel inspired as well, you should pick up a copy of Danger City II, our new short story collection that is finally available. It features a short story by me that is completely with merit or redeeming social value.

I am in the middle of a ton of freelance work right now and I will not have time to post anything new. It will all be over soon, and I will be back to give you the rest of my Best Of Lists. A little hint at what’s going to be topping the movie list: it’s Children of Men.

I’m fascinated and repelled by Fergie in equal measures. There is something very alien about her, as though she was sent from Mars to inhabit the stereotype of what Americans find attractive, yet they forgot to give her that crucial, nearly imperceptible something that separates the humans from the Martians.

I heard this song on the radio the other day and I think it is pretty much the ultimate representation of the Fergie character made into song-form. Will.i.am, the dude from the Black Eyed Peas who produced this track (and guests in the video and molded Fergie from the clay surrounding Mount Olympus) has painted a master aural portrait of the artist. Just like Fergie, this song is missing something that I can’t put my finger on. Everything about it points to it being a totally catchy pop single, but somehow the negative amount of substance makes me feel as though I’m not actually listening to anything. From the title–(”Fergielicious”??? For real, is that a joke?)–to the bite of “Supersonic” on the verses to the phoned in will.i.am cameo to the strange, unnecessary stutter at the beginning of the second verse, it all seems methodically planned to result in a track that’s as vacant as the Baghdad HoJos.

Of course, you are all wondering what I was into this year. And like a kindhearted grandpa with a bowl full of Pepto Bismol-flavored candies, I am here to give you what your greedy little goblin hearts desire.

Let’s start with music, shall we? And a caveat: the following list is partly bullshit. It’s bullshit, because I am a gentleman of not inconsiderable age (31) who realizes he is teetering on the age of irrelevance. There are plenty of bands that won acclaim in the year-end lists that I have not heard. I no longer have the inclination to seek out every band with a little buzz behind them and listen to their records obsessively until I am able to spew back large chunks of their lyrics and write meaningful paragraphs detailing their unique and powerful abilities to add something new to the long, repetitive history of three-chord pop songs. Many of these records, I haven’t even listened to more than three or four times apiece. Some of them were not even released this year.

Instead of calling these the 12 best albums of the year, let’s say they are the 12 albums that I either liked the most or fully intend to like the most, given the possibility that I will someday have the time to sit down and really enjoy them the way that God has intended. If you are willing to accept all of these conditions and are still interested in my opinion, then please, read on.

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As much as I would like to hate everyone involved with the Bush administration, I gotta admit, Tony Snow is pretty quick. Someone please send me video of this incident.