Steve Dyer

Here's the note that a pair of pious bigots left in place of a tip for their twenty-year-old waiter:

"Thank you for your service, it was excellent. That being said, we cannot in good conscience tip you, for your homosexual lifestyle is an affront to GOD. Fags do not share in the wealth of GOD, and you will not share in ours. We hope you will see the tip your fag choices made you lose out on, and plan accordingly. It is never too late for GOD's love, but none shall be spared for faggotry. May GOD have mercy on you."

Other local Christians are going to the Overland Park, Kansas, restaurant, requesting the kid's section, and overtipping him to demonstrate that—what's that phrase again? Oh, right: They're not all like that. (Via JoeMyGod.)

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He gets his coverage from his wife’s Goldman insurance policy, which, like all employer-sponsored insurance, is given a juicy tax break. His office does not seem to grasp this elementary fact:

“Ted is on my health care plan,” said Mrs. Cruz, who has worked in Goldman’s investment management division for eight years. Catherine Frazier, a spokeswoman for the senator, confirmed the coverage, which Goldman said was worth at least $20,000 a year. “The senator is on his wife’s plan, which comes at no cost to the taxpayer and reflects a personal decision about what works best for their family,” she said.

No cost to the taxpayer? Nuh-huh:

In fact, the Senator and Mrs. Cruz are probably* getting a bigger tax break than the cost of coverage of a typical, non-elderly Medicaid beneficiary, or even two … (* I don’t know the Cruz’s income with certainty. I think it’s safe to assume it puts them in one of the higher marginal tax rate brackets. A Senator’s salary is $174,000. Ms. Cruz is a managing director at Goldman Sachs.)

Having put the knife in, Austin Frakt wiggles it a bit. Read the whole thing.

Update from a reader:

Ted Cruz released his tax returns during his Senate primary campaign. In 2010, his wife made $360,290 working for Goldman Sachs. Ted made well over $1 million as a partner in his Houston law firm.

So he’s almost certainly costing the taxpayers more than a typical Medicaid beneficiary. Worth knowing.

(Photo by Melina Mara/The Washington Post via Getty Images)

“Copious amounts of constitutionally protected sodomy are occurring in our great state already,” – the state of Georgia in Watson v. State.

(Hat tip: Eugene Volokh)

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Frank was standing in the street on East 10th and Broadway when he asked me if I could spare any change. He was an older man—he’d later tell me 60, but I would have guessed older, living outside will do that, I guess. He was wearing jeans and trainers, a light blue hoodie, a baseball cap. He had a gold hoop in his left ear and a cane. I asked him what was going on, a lame opening line, but I wasn’t sure how else to proceed. He told me he hated asking for money, but it’d been a hard year, he’d just gotten out of the hospital, he’d been depressed. We were still standing in the street. I asked him if I could buy him a sandwich and talk about his life, I wrote on the internet about people’s lives, and I’d like to talk to him about his. He seemed incredulous that he’d have anything to share—”What do you want to know? I was born in the Bronx and my dad was in jail”—but I assured him I was just interested in his life, his day, how he ended up asking me for money on on East 10th and Broadway. He said okay and we walked for a little bit.

About a block away there was a Subway, and he asked if that was okay, he didn’t want me to spend too much money on him. We went inside, I encouraged him to get a large sandwich so he could have some later—he was very concerned about me spending so much money on him, and I was very concerned with assuring him that I wanted to do it and it was fine while also leaving room for me to say no if he asked me for more money later. He got turkey and swiss on flatbread, with a few tomatoes, black olives, the peppers that aren’t the hot peppers. He was thankful in a way that made me feel embarrassed. We sat down and I asked him about his life.

Logan: You mentioned you’d been in the hospital. What happened?

Frank: Yeah, I got out of the hospital nine months ago, I had fallen on the subway tracks. It was the day after Christmas. I was exhausted, I’d been sleeping outside for awhile then. Two days before, my good friend—my girlfriend died. She was sleeping outside and she died. I had to tell her family. So I went to the subway to sleep and I had been given an Ambien, and I woke up on the tracks, my back, hip, and leg broken. A guy in the station said I’d gotten up from the bench and just walked over the edge, sleep walking. I wasn’t trying to kill myself. Two guys came down and got me off the tracks, I was in incredible pain, just screaming. They took me to La Guardia Hospital, this was in Queens, where they held me for a week. Then they transferred me to Bellevue, where I was for two months. I liked it there actually. It’d been such a hard year. A long line of deaths, my girlfriend and before that my brother, my sister. But I’ve gotten so used to it, I don’t think I’ve ever cried. I get depressed, but I don’t cry. If it comes out out here on the street, I’ll get stomped over. So I try my best and I know I’m going to be alright at some point.

Logan: How long have you been living outside?

Frank: The past three months, but on and off for ten years. I’ve had jobs, I have had a job and an apartment. But not in a long time.

Logan: Where do you sleep now?

Frank: Sometimes I’m lucky, there’s a place I go to on 42nd street, a quick stay hotel, the kind men usual bring women to, or other men to, you know, whatever. It’s $15 or $18 for 3 or 4 hours. So if I make enough money I can go there and lock the door and sleep for 4 hours.

What I’m wearing right now is everything I own. Every time I gather stuff, get a bag, it gets taken. I have a cheap phone, I try to keep a phone, it’s the only way to contact me. I don’t have credit on it now, but maybe I’ll get some later. I’m 60, I’m getting old, I can’t fight anymore. I used to fight back, if somebody takes my stuff, it makes me want to hurt them. I don’t carry a knife, I’m not a violent person, I don’t want to be a violent person, but yeah, if someone takes my stuff, I’m going to defend myself. My hand is broken in three places, I went to a clinic in Queens and they took a bunch of x-rays. My cheek bones are plastic implants, I had my face bashed in. I’ve had so many concussions. I have some dementia, sometimes I forget what I’m talking about. Maybe it’s the concussions. I don’t know. I used to be on some good medicines for it, but I can’t get them anymore. I used to have Medicaid and I don’t right now but I’ve been trying to get it and I just don’t have it in me. They want 16 forms of identification but I don’t have any, everything was stolen. So I have been going through the process of getting a New York State I.D., but I just don’t have it in me anymore. I’m more successful asking people for money. I hate to do it, I don’t like doing it, but it’s easier.

Logan: Where did you sleep last night?

Frank: Sometimes I take the A train, it’s the longest route in the city and you can stay a long time on that route. But last night I took the 3 train to East New York, New Lots Avenue. There’s a transitional living place there where I used to live, I’m not allowed there anymore because I don’t live there anymore, but I feel safe there and so sometimes I go there and sleep on the grounds. I lived there a couple of years ago, they helped me find some housing, but it was just temporary. So sometimes I’ll go there and leave before the sun comes up.

Logan: How much money have you made today?

Frank: Not much, let me see here, I have $4 and some change today. On a good day if I’m out working, I’ll hopefully make $25 if I can. Then I can get a room, sleep for a few hours, have a few dollars left to get something to eat. I can eat once a day, or sometimes I don’t even eat.

Logan: When you’re working, are you always in the same place?

Frank: No, I move around. I used to be on that corner a lot and some of the people got to know me. But then I got arrested for aggressively panhandling. If you’re just sitting with a sign they will leave you alone. Except in midtown. The police are nasty in midtown because there are tourists and they don’t want you there.

Logan: Do you ever sit with a sign?

Frank: I do better if I approach people and say I’m hungry. Many people are nice. Some aren’t, but many are. But can I tell you one thing that is disgusting?

Logan: Okay.

Frank: So many people, if I’m by a bar, will say, come in with me, I’ll buy you a drink. I don’t drink. I don’t drug. That’s one thing I’m proud of. And I’ll say, I don’t need a drink, I need something to eat, and they’ll keep walking. They won’t give me a dollar, but they’ll say they’ll buy me an $8 beer. But that’s what happens, and it’s insanity.

Logan: Is getting arrested ever a good thing? Food or shelter?

Frank: Have you ever been inside?

Logan: No, I haven’t.

Frank: It’s horrible to be inside. People act like animals, and they choose to. I know I’m being detained for something I did, and I choose not to act like an animal. But that’s always a risk. We could leave here and you could go that way and I could go this way and by the time you got to the park I could have handcuffs on.

Logan: I don’t want to keep you much longer, I know you have to get back to work, but thank you so much for your time. Will you go back to that corner now?

Frank: I might try to find my friend, he’s usually around this neighborhood. I trust him some and he likes to know where I sleep. I think he’s 63. He made a lot of money at one point and had a family, but he lost it all and now he has nothing. He’s trying to learn the streets and I am helping him out. So I’ll try to find him and give him some of this sandwich.

Photo by swami stream

Okay, I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings here, but tomorrow takes us to five weeks out from Thanksgiving, which means that the creeping dread you have started noticing lately isn't just down to the fact that life is full of misery and you're never going to have it as good again as you do now, but is also your mind's way of alerting you that we are beginning our descent into the Holiday Season, where excessive socializing and forced cheer are the order of the day, and things won't get back to normal until well after January because you will still be paying the bill by having drinks with all the people you put off during the busy season by saying, "Let's meet up after the holidays."

Is there a solution? A simple way to, if not eliminate then at least reduce the amount of Seasonal Anxiety from which we all suffer as autumn turns to winter? I have spent the last few years my of life in the lab, dedicating myself to searching for a solution to this terrible burden. Here is what I have come up with:

First, let's stipulate that it is indeed Thanksgiving that kicks off the Era of Bad Feelings we associate with this time of year. If there were some way to change that we would be pushing back the anguish until the middle of December at least.

Second, let's allow that Thanksgiving is a necessary celebration. Apart from Super Bowl it is the one non-denominational national holiday that encourages excessive consumption and is the only event not centered around a specific faith that promotes family togetherness and automatically includes a four-day weekend, presumably to help you recover from the family togetherness.

Next, let's consider what it is exactly about Thanksgiving that activates so many of the stress feelings we begin to experience roughly a month before and do not fully get over until Arbor Day. Making travel plans are, to be sure, a precipitating factor, but what really incites the tension is the amount of time leading up to the holiday that you have to pre-plan how upset and angry you're going to be.

Nobody, as we all know, makes you quite as crazy as family. Whoever you have turned yourself into in your life's journey decides to wait in the car as soon as you step into the door of whatever home you are all gathered together in to tolerate Thanksgiving that year, reducing you to an easily-baited caricature of whoever you were when you were twelve. The taunts, insults and shames of childhood are all readily available to the other participants, who reach for them at the first sign that they might be victims of similar slings and arrows. You find yourself playing out roles that none of you want to reenact, and knowing that it didn't have to be this way and yet here you are makes you even angrier at yourself and those around you.

What's worse is how you have already played out these fights in your mind. Your sister is going to be drunk and angry. Your brother is going to be morose and whiny. Your dad will gently rib all the kids at the table about exactly the wrong thing and then be shocked and hurt when people choose to take offense. Let's not talk about your uncle. Your mom will be freaking out the whole time and the only element of surprise in the entire holiday is what will be the precipitating event to actually make her break the glass this year. You have spent a good six weeks seeing all of this transpire in your mind and now it's happening live, plus why is the heat on so goddamn high, it is perfectly warm out.

But what if there was a better way? What if we could fix Thanksgiving so that we could once again embrace its original purpose of eating until you puke and spending just enough time with your family that you are equally glad to have seen them and to not have to see them again for a while?

How about… Surprise Thanksgiving?

Listen to my plan with an open mind, because it is wildly unorthodox and nobody likes change, but as the result of years of thought and consideration I have anticipated all the issues attendant to it and am unveiling it now because I feel like it is finally time for America to come together and embrace it. It is much too late to put it in place for 2013, but I feel like if you all read it now and have the possibility sitting in your minds somewhere, by the time you emerge from the wreckage of this year's holiday, wishing you were never born and cursing the horrid creatures who somehow emerged from the same wretched womb from which you sprung, you will see its wisdom.

So: In an office in the White House there is a concealed wheel with 52 chambers. At the beginning of each year the President of the United States drops an orange ball into the wheel in a televised national ceremony that begins the process of Surprise Thanksgiving. He or she spins the wheel and walks away.

Every Monday thereafter, on TV and the Internet for everyone to see, the President walks to the wheel, cranks it, and we all wait to see if the orange ball drops down into the tube directly below it. Most times, it won't. 50 or 51 times a year, depending, there may be no ball.

But the Monday on which the orange ball drops down, the President tells the nation that she or he is happy to announce that this year Thanksgiving is this Thursday.

Cue the panic as everyone scrambles to make travel arrangements. Plans are rescheduled. Launches are put off. Projects that are due on a certain date are bumped back. Tests are canceled. You have four days to make it to Thanksgiving and that is all that matters.

In the rush and craze to get yourself to your destination, are you thinking about what your cousin who hates [insert ethnic group here] is going to rant about this year? You are not. You are focused solely on figuring out how the hell you're getting home and what you're going to do about everything you've had planned for that Wednesday, Thursday and Friday now that they are off the calendar.

And once you get home? Who is angry at anyone else? At worst you all have airlines to complain about, but most of the holiday is spent with each person trying to top the one before on how difficult their own arrangements were to make, how arduous their trek and how much it meant to them to come home. Mom keeps the stemware intact, and Dad gets to ask you all kinds of questions about which highway you took to which other highway and why didn't you use a different route, which you are more amused than irritated by.

There are, to be sure, small considerations that make this plan impractical initially. What do we do if Thanksgiving is in a warm weather month but we like to have turkey? (Rotisserie.) What happens if Thanksgiving encroaches on another holiday? (Extra day off.) What if we really don't like our family and can't stand to see them? ("Ugh, you know how it is with Surprise Thanksgiving, everything was booked solid. Maybe I'll catch up with you guys on Christmas," and then you get to go hang out with all your other friends that feel the same way.)

Again, do not say yes or no to this proposal immediately. Roll it around in your brain for a little bit, coming back to it once a week or so until Thanksgiving is upon you. I think as the dread grows and the holiday approaches the wisdom of this idea will become more and more obvious. It is my strong belief that by the end of this terrible time there will be a huge groundswell to institute Surprise Thanksgiving, or, as I hope it will come to be known, Thanksgiving. It is my gift to all of you. And if you're having a hard time coping with the Thanksgiving we're stuck with until we get it together to put my dream in place, here is some advice that will help you through the horror.

Photo by Andy Dean Photography, via Shutterstock

The post Let's Make Thanksgiving Better appeared first on The Awl.

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"A French bank has been slammed after posting an image on Facebook of a squirrel with its testicles trapped in a bird feed stand." Sigh, yeah, there's a photo, but I mean, really?

The post If You Need To Get "Squirrel Testicles," "Facebook" And "French Bank" Into The Same Sentence It Is Your Lucky Day appeared first on The Awl.

"Scientists have discovered that all mammals urinate for roughly the same amount of time, regardless of their size. A study carried out by researchers at the Georgia Institute of Technology in Atlanta found that animals of various sizes – from an elephant to a rat – take around 21 seconds to relieve themselves. The team, who collated their findings using videos of animals going to toilet and combining them with data on mass, bladder pressure and urethra size, were able to come up with what they are calling the 'law of urination'." There is indeed video.

The post Ignorance Of The Law Of Urination Is No Excuse appeared first on The Awl.

Discover Magazine linked to a new study that suggests that no matter what their size, it takes most mammals about 21 seconds to urinate.

Using high-speed fluid dynamics videos and flow-rate measurement at Zoo Atlanta, we discover the “Law of Urination”, which states animals empty their bladders over nearly constant duration of average 21 seconds (standard deviation 13 seconds), despite a difference in bladder volume from 100 mL to 100 L. This feat is made possible by the increasing urethra length of large animals which amplifies gravitational force and flow rate.

If you're into that kind of thing, here's video proof. (NSFW, if slow-motion animal peeing is not allowed at your workplace for some weird reason.)

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We have new rankings in the Wow This Website Is Abominably And Panderingly Stupid list—with a huge upset in the number one slot!

9. Gawker Dot Com
8. Probably a tie between The Bustle and The Daily Caller and The Blaze and Tumblr
7. Twitter Dot Com
6. Twitchy Dot Com
5. The Traffic-Getting Half of BuzzFeeᴅ Dot Com That Is Manipulative And Gross (Well?)
4. Elite Daily Dot Com
3. Weather Dot Com
2. Upworthy Dot Com
1. Viral Nova Dot Com

It's a crazy day when Business Insider can't even make this list. Thought Catalog? MORE LIKE PULITZER CATALOG.

Congratulations, Viral Nova! You're HORRIFIC, ILLITERATE and MONSTROUS. You're also named V I R A L N O V A. Which is hilarious! (via and via)

The post Are These The Worst Sites On The Internet? appeared first on The Awl.

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Scandal star Kerry Washington will host Saturday Night Live on November 2, NBC announced today. It will be her first time hosting the show, and she'll be joined by musical guest Eminem, who will be making his sixth appearance. Though primarily a dramatic actress, Washington has some experience in comedy, including co-starring with Chris Rock in 2007's I Think I Love My Wife. She also, intriguingly, appeared on PBS's educational sketch series Standard Deviants in the 90s, which has been described as Sesame Street meets Saturday Night Live. Hopefully her sketch comedy skills are still sharp.

I was her first mark.

The first time she mentioned the all natural beauty products, she was sharing a new discovery. She came out of her office and leaned on my desk. Casual, just shooting the breeze.

“You know how I’ve been really into health and wellness lately?” she asked.

I did. She had been very into health and wellness for the past six months. We’d worked together a year, she my boss, I her assistant. I got her coffee, and then, after the switch, green tea. I answered her phone. Edited her blog posts. Signed her up for spinning classes. She’d always been healthy, one of those people that takes care of herself, loves to run. Didn’t want bread with her salad. Always wanted the dressing on the side. But then she started ratcheting it up. Juices instead of salads. Marathons instead of 5Ks. And then, PrettyFace.

“So I’ve been doing some research, and it’s just crazy how toxic a lot of things that we put in our bodies are.”

Yeah, I read the internet.

“Do you know makeup contains heavy metals?”

I did.

“It’s just awful,” she said. “We are poisoning ourselves trying to be beautiful.”

I told her that was the reason I don’t wear makeup, because it’s dangerous. I laughed after, because I’d made a joke. I don’t wear makeup, because I don’t care to wear makeup. I am unmotivated to paint my face. It’s not for me. She told me this was really serious stuff. And it’s not just makeup. Facewashes, face creams, body creams—it’s all killing us. I don’t use those things either, but I smiled and nodded. Terrible.

She wasn’t done. “We are literally leeching poisons into our bodies with every product we put on our skin, in our hair, on our nails. It’s really upsetting,” she said. I kept nodding. “And that’s why I’m so excited I’ve discovered PrettyFace, a chemical-free, all natural, European line of cosmetics and skincare products.”

She sounded like a commercial.

“In Europe, they have strict regulations about what can go into products that go on our bodies, and so these are the most natural and safe products on the market. I’ve been using them for a few months and I’ve seen such a difference. I’ve decided to start selling them.”

She was a commercial.

“You really should look them up.”

Two days later she sidled up to my desk again.

“Did you have a chance to look at PrettyFace?” Beat. Did I lie or did I tell the truth? I lied, and told her it seemed they had a lot of really great stuff. “Did you happen to notice their anti-aging line? I think you would really like their anti-aging line.”

I’m two years younger than she is.

“It all looks really great,” I said.

“I’ve been using their rejuvenation line for months. Doesn’t my skin look great?” It did look great. I said, your skin looks great. And then I said, but it’s always looked great. Wrong. “No, it was terrible before, dark circles, wrinkles, dullness. It’s only since I’ve been using these all-natural products that I’ve seen a difference. I feel like me now.”

The phone rang and I answered it. She walked away.

A few days later I came back from lunch and a stack of printouts about PrettyFace’s anti-aging line was on my desk. She’d printed out pages from the website and stapled them together. A Post-it note on the top said, “Just wanted to share this with you! I really think you’d love it.”

On her way out that evening she paused at my desk. “Have you had a chance to look over that information I gave you?” I hadn’t. “I really think you should.”

So I did. The products sounded great? They looked pretty in their little jars? The branding was very well done? I was not going to buy an anti-aging skincare system from my boss.

The next morning she had an idea. “I just realized you are probably reluctant to inquire more about the products because they are costly. But they really aren’t, they’re cheaper than a lot of products on the market today! Then, the real pitch: “You know, I could get you even more of a deal if you wanted to get some friends involved. Just call up some friends, tell them about this great line of products you’ve found. All you need is a few people to buy it and then you’ll get such a great discount. I mean, I’m selling these products because I love these products. Sharing them feels so great. You’ll see.”

I told her my friends didn’t have money to spend on fancy skincare products.

“You’d be amazed what people spend their money on.”

I decided I was sick of talking about PrettyFace. I missed the days when we didn’t talk except for her to ask for more green tea. I decided I’d buy a lip balm or something, get her off my back. I told her I had $30 to spend and wanted to try something, what did she recommend?

“That’s tricky, you know, we have so many great products. You know, right now we’re having a special, on the anti-aging line, and it’s the whole kit for $150. It really is an amazing savings, crazy even. Like, it should be like, $300. But it’s only $150.”

Yeah, I don’t have $150.

“You just have to prioritize. I mean, is having beautiful skin free of toxins and poisons and heavy metals important to you? You have to decide what is important in your life. What’s more important than your body?”

I said okay. I couldn’t say no anymore. I was too tired. She went and got her order form. I went and got my credit card. My products will come in a week. “And then we’ll get you on the makeup.”

Molly Lorz lives in New York.

Heads up: This story is out there. Hover over the link to familiarize yourself with the URL in case you come across it in the ether, but DO NOT CLICK unless you are in a safe space for crying and will not see anyone for about an hour beyond that, just in case you have a couple of emotional aftershocks.

The post Story Sad appeared first on The Awl.

Cord Jefferson’s essay on gaslighting and crazymaking of minorities in America—mentioned: Kanye West, Jimmy Kimmel, Trayvon Martin, stop and frisk, and his own dark skin—is perfect. Everyone should read it. Let’s get everyone to read it. Print it out and leave in on your kitchen table. Leave it open on all of your tabs, then invite your friend to use your computer. Rent a small plane and drop copies from the sky.

(“There’s a form of mental torture called “gaslighting,” its name taken from a play in which a man convinces his wife that the gas lights in their home she sees brightening and dimming are, in fact, maintaining a steady glow. His ultimate goal is to drive her into a mental institution and take all her money, and soon the woman ends up in an argument with herself about whether she’s losing her mind. American race relations have a similar narrative: An entire set of minorities confident that the everyday slights they’re seeing are real and hurtful, and an entire set of other people assuring them that they’re wrong.”)

Rejoice, for Tina Fey and Amy Poehler are returning to host the Golden Globes for the next two years, according to The Hollywood Reporter. The two hosted this year's ceremony in January, garnering the event's highest ratings in six years as well as critical acclaim.

“Tina and Amy are two of the most talented comedic writer/performers in our business, and they were a major reason the Golden Globes was the most entertaining awards show of last season,” said NBC president of alternative and late night programming Paul Telegdy. “We’re elated they wanted to host together again and that they committed for the next two years.”

Below, check out their amazing monologue from this year:

You're wrong about "cum," Dan. Linguistically and historically cum is shortened from scum. A condom was a "scumbag," hence the derogatory term. You'll find a tiny little bit of Internet evidence—with actual citations—here. So using cum (or scum) is perfectly OK, and if anything come (as a noun) is the more recent/improper use. Just figured I'd tell you as it is a fun bit of trivia.—HH

NOOOOOOO! I hate you, HH, you and your facts and your citations. More reader thoughts on cum v. come... after the jump...

You're a journalist; do you find the alternate spelling "lede" repellent? After all, there was a perfectly cromulent word, "lead," that existed long before.

I understand that you find the "cum" spelling off-putting (I do too... it's just silly and faux-dirty, with immature overtones). But your examples are flaccid at best. The erotic meaning of "suck" is hardly different from its regular meaning. The word "dick" sounds sexual no matter what, evoking the male member no matter the context (let's face it, the forename is a thing of the past). Moreover, neither word is integral to everyday speech, and both are certainly avoided in "polite" conversation. (Well, depending on your vocation!)

The word "come," on the other hand, is one of the most essential words in the English language. Its sexual meaning bears absolutely no cognitive relation to that of the locomotive action. I think the alternate spelling is a defense mechanism: there are many who might not want the sexual act to enter one's consciousness every time they read this innocuous, utterly necessary verb. When I'm in church and hear the words "...until Christ comes again," well, let's just say I'd rather have purer thoughts on my mind. (My friend Joy tells me she feels the same way.)

Plus, there are far more entertaining topics which meld the subjects of language and sex, such as, the proper plural of "dildo." (I'm fond of "dildi" myself.) And is it proper to use "buttocks" in the singular, as in "he has a nice buttocks"? And can we please, PLEASE eradicate all use of "penis" except in a medical context? It's such a puny, diminutive word, antithetical to thoughts of sexual arousal.

G.E.

P.S. My partner Jim, who was raised Catholic, just reminded me of the "ejaculations" he had to learn and recite in grade school. I think they're now just called "prayers."

In response to this comment in your most recent column:

"Cum" is not a word. We don't have three-letter alternate spellings for other four-letter words that have double meanings. You wouldn't write "I know this guy who sucks and he's a mean dick, but he's so fucking hot, I want to suk his dik." The proper spelling of "come" works just fine too.

Nor does English require that all homophones be spelled the same. There are many examples of homophones that could be called "three-letter alternate spellings for other four-letter words".
Aid/aide, beau/bow, earn/urn, flew/flu, four/for, knot/not, etc.

Annoyed With You

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After Justin Bieber hosted SNL last season, I concluded that SNL will never quite be the alternative comedy show we'd like it to be. There's no denying the show would be much funnier if producers only booked the heroes of comedy nerds to host the show, as it did last season with Louis CK and last week with Tina Fey. I've made the case several times that the show would be far better if only former cast members hosted — indeed, SNL has enough star alumni to fill a few seasons' worth of episodes.

But SNL isn't that show. The ongoing inclusion of performances by a musical guest in every episode tells us that SNL will always be a classic, network late-night variety show, where ratings and cultural relevancy remain top priorities.

So despite the ire of fans, a couple of times each season, we will have to deal with whatever pop culture sensation currently controls the zeitgeist. Sometimes, this mainstream pandering ends up being a good thing, as it was with Jon Hamm or Justin Timberlake. More often than not, however, we're stuck with a performer who, frankly, has no place on SNL: Justin Bieber, Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Donald Trump, and now, for a second time, Miley Cyrus. To the writers' credit, they shot for the moon with some pretty ambitious ideas — a post-apocalyptic flashback cold open and cheerleaders getting abducted by aliens, and the cast members (namely Taran Killam and Vanessa Bayer) gave some of the best performances of their careers. But the early sketches had so many moving parts — and so much Miley — that the show felt rushed, with little breathing room for the cast and no time for jokes to land. That might be an unfair criticism for a show that is hastily thrown together last minute, but SNL normally pulls off the feat with a finesse that was noticeably absent this week.

If you didn't enjoy this episode — and I'm sure there were many of you — you shouldn't blame the writers, who got the most out of their hot button host while managing to address some big news events, or the cast members, who have stepped up remarkably so far this season. Nor should you blame Miley Cyrus, who improved on her hosting stint in 2011, left it all on stage, and happily poked fun at herself — even if it played right into her strategy to dominate every aspect of pop culture. Some of the blame can go to SNL's booking producers, who should recognize that the show is popular enough that it doesn't need to play within the toxic publicity machine that buoys stars like Cyrus and Bieber.

But mostly, we can only blame ourselves, for it was our obsession over Cyrus's VMA performance, our purchases of tabloids, our clever quips on Twitter, our hundreds of millions of views on YouTube, and our watching and talking about the singer on SNL that opened the door for her to host the show in the first place. If we learned anything from our country's tumultuous relationship with Sarah Palin (or from The Simpsons' "Attack of the 50-foot Eyesores"), it's that if we simply ignore the monster, it will disappear.

"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves."

Miley Cyrus Cold Open. The episode opened with the image of Kenan Thompson and Noël Wells huddling for warmth in the ruins of post-apocalyptic New York City in the year 2045, then flashing back to the moment that caused it all: Miley Cyrus' performance at the 2013 VMAs. This interesting, high-concept framing device devolved into a standard SNL impression sketch, with the young, Hannah Montana-era Miley (Vanessa Bayer) warning present-day Miley (herself) about the dangers of her controversial gig, followed by appearances from Robin Thicke (Taran Killam), Will Smith (Jay Pharoah), and Bobby Moynihan as an upset backup dancer in a huge bear costume: "We shouldn't be doing this! This is for kids!" I enjoyed the bold premise, the impressions were solid, and I didn't mind Miley getting the VMA references out of her system early on… only she was just getting started.

Monologue. The monologue was so short and dependent on more VMA jokes that it's barely worth mentioning here, except for the lovely image of naked Bobby Moynihan straddling a wrecking ball. I am endlessly amazed at the lengths SNL's prop department will go to to pull off a three-second sight gag.

50 Shades of Grey Auditions. I am surprised SNL would call attention to the recent departure of Bill Hader with one of these screen test impression pieces, which Hader more or less carried in recent seasons. Since there's really no joke here other than "Look how funny our impressions are!" the fact that most of the impressions fell a little flat made this piece a bit of a downer. Taran Killam's Christoph Waltz, Kate McKinnon's Jane Lynch, and Jay Pharoah's Tracy Morgan seemed to hit the hardest… expect those three to emerge as the cast's go-to impersonators.

Girlfriends Talk Show III. Although I was excited to see one of my favorite sketches from last season make a comeback, this premise has lost a bit of its luster for me. Before, the focus was on the relationship between Aidy Bryant's Morgan and Cecily Strong's Kyra, but in this instance, Miley Cyrus' Lil' Teeny stole the spotlight (despite not doing much with it) while Morgan stuck pretty closely to the bit about helping her mom's friend through her divorce (which was funny, but didn't need to last longer than a beat) and Kyra mostly parroted "Awesome!" for 90% of her lines. Bryant still had her moments, such as her camp nickname being "Night Crier" and a self-written song with several rounds of "hoo-hey-ho's."

We Did Stop. The night's most memorable moment was this shot-for-shot parody of Miley Cyrus' "We Can't Stop" music video, featuring a tanned John Boehner (Taran Killam) in Cyrus' skimpy underwear, grinding and twerking with Michelle Bachmann (Cyrus), about the government shutdown. The bizarre imagery from Cyrus' original video made for some fun visuals here, but what impressed me most was the piece's flawless execution, which has always been the strength of SNL's music videos. A big win for writers Erik Kenward and Colin Jost, but mostly for Killam, who's all-business dancing has apparently made him the show's new star.

Piers Morgan Tonight IV. This sketch encapsulated the night in a nutshell: An interesting concept (different networks' takes on Hillary Clinton biopics) bogged down in poor execution, Miley Cyrus awkwardly infused with politics, an unnecessary reliance on familiar characters and an abundance of impressions, and Miley nearly drowning a sketch and Taran Killam saving it. One thing that stood out to me was the casting of three different actresses as Clinton: Vanessa Bayer, Kate McKinnon, and Noël Wells (in one of the stills). While I would have preferred to see one actress showcase her versatility here, it is interesting to see SNL weigh its options prior to Clinton's decision of whether or not she'll run in 2016. (My money's on McKinnon for the gig.)

Weekend Update. The news segment seemed to run a little long this week, with four desk pieces slowing the momentum of some of the segment's later punchlines. After a so-so "Winners and Losers" bit about the shutdown, Kate McKinnon appeared as GTA5-obsessed soccer mom Pat Lynhart: "I was supposed to run the carpool yesterday, and you know what I did instead? I shot a hooker in the boob for sport!" McKinnon's aggressive delivery is always welcome at the Update desk, but her jumping out of her seat made her bit at times uncomfortably kinetic… an energy that boiled over when Jay Pharoah stopped by as hyperbolic NFL commentator Shannon Sharpe. I'm not too familiar with Sharpe, but Pharoah stirred up the studio audience into a frenzy — which I'm not sure was a result of the accuracy of his impression, or his constant tongue-flicking. Finally, Vanessa Bayer reprised her always-enjoyable Jacob the Bar Mitzvah Boy (IV), with the bonus thrill of seeing the nervous kid who sticks too closely to corny, rehearsed jokes absolutely lose it when he caught sight of Cecily Strong at the desk.

Cheer Squad. Certainly the strangest sketch of the night was this one about cheerleaders who get abducted by aliens during practice. I love such a bizarre idea and applaud SNL for going for it, but the complicated technical setup and the awkward cutting around green screens and crew people rigging fly wires resulted in disjointed timing, leaving Miley Cyrus appearing a little confused. By the time Kenan Thompson showed up as a rapping alien and the sketch ended with a toy spaceship stealing the moon, the only thing that made sense was Taran Killam's shrieking, "WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"

Mornin' Miami. Things finally slowed down to a comfortable pace during the episode's back stretch, starting with this enjoyable sketch featuring Miley Cyrus, Bobby Moynihan, and Kate McKinnon as hating-life morning show hosts recording stupid promos: "Jeff Dunham's puppets are in studio, but Jeff Dunham is not. We'll find out how funny those puppets really are." The long, angry pauses between each take worked beautifully here — not just to punctuate the high energy deliveries and hilariously odd copy, but to give the episode as a whole a chance to catch its breath. And I don't know what it is about Moynihan saying, "And I'm BF!" over and over, but it got to me. Best of the Night.

Poetry Class. Vanessa Bayer received another big character break as charismatic substitute poetry teacher Miss Meadows. Bayer's voice was hilarious — the little "ahknowwhatI'msayin"s and sudden barks gradually won over the studio audience. And despite Mike O'Brien's limited role in this sketch, I was impressed at his ability to score some big laughs: "Is everything OK? I thought I heard a seal." Hopefully we'll see more of him in episodes to come.

Miley Sex Tape. Kyle Mooney's big debut came in the 10-to-1 slot, which may be a good place for him while viewers warm up to his Andy Kaufman-style delivery. Here, he attempts to record a sex tape with Miley Cyrus, but finds himself blocked by his own insecurities, despite the moment being perfect. The video had a definite Good Neighbor vibe to it, and although it didn't get huge laughs, it was nonetheless an enjoyable introduction to Mooney's type of humor.

Additional Thoughts:

• Vanessa Bayer was the MVP of the night, with appearances as Miley Cyrus, Hillary Clinton, Jacob, and Miss Meadows. Newcomer John Milhiser was on the low end this episode, with his Jon Cryer impression as his only memorable cameo.
• I'd love to know who wrote Mornin' Miami. Some of the best lines of the episode came from that sketch alone: "Are ghosts real? It turns out, no. Here to talk about it is Topher Grace."
• Man, were there a lot of impressions in this episode. Before we even got to Weekend Update, we saw the following: Miley Cyrus, Robin Thicke, Will Smith, Seth Rogen, Emma Stone, Scarlett Johansson, Christoph Waltz, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Kristen Stewart, Rebel Wilson, Steve Harvey, John Cryer, Jane Lynch, Aziz Ansari, Mary-Louise Parker, Tilda Swinton, Tracy Morgan, Shaquille O'Neal, Kristin Chenoweth, John Boehner, Michelle Bachmann, Piers Morgan, Arianna Huffington, Hillary Clinton (two of them), Bill Clinton, Barack Obama, and Sway Calloway. Save some for the rest of the season, SNL!
• With John Mulaney's pilot being ordered to series by Fox, our days with Nasim Pedrad may be numbered. Her appearance as Arianna Huffington reminded me how few recurring characters she has on the show. Mulaney may have come at just the right time for Pedrad.
• Also from Mornin' Miami: "It's a bird, it's a plane, it's an… ugly rabbit? The worst looking rabbits in the state of Florida strut their stuff in Tampa's 23rd Annual Bummer Bunny Contest."
• Jay Pharoah and Kate McKinnon obviously joined the cast largely because of their impersonation skills, but watch out for Taran Killam. His Eminem and Brad Pitt made the rounds in previous seasons, and tonight, he stole the show with Christoph Waltz, Piers Morgan, and John Boehner. (Another impressionist worth keeping an eye on: Noël Wells.)
• I was happy to see Beck Bennett as Bill Clinton. Although the role isn't as lucrative as it once was, it must have been pretty cool for the guy to don the costume worn by Darrell Hammond and Phil Hartman. His impression wasn't bad, either.
• Last one from Mornin' Miami, I promise: "No show Thursday because it's a leap week."
• KYLE: "Is that my brother?" TARAN: "Hey bro, you wanna play catch? Sup, Beck?" BECK: "What's up, Ricky!"
• New additions to the Season 39 Stupid Name List (all from Mornin' Miami): BF, Bill Spinx, Yolanda Natalie Portman, Jill Amockingbird, and Bitch Fantastic.

I'll see you next week, when Bruce Willis will host with musical guest Katy Perry.

Erik Voss is a writer and performer living in Los Angeles. He hosts the Evil Blond Kid podcast and performs improv on the Harold team The Cartel at the iO West Theater.

Kera Bolonik puzzles over the ongoing use of laugh tracks in sitcoms, noting that “fake laughter is like a fake orgasm — it’s not infectious”:

In fact, we’ve had them imposed on us since the fifties, when sound engineer Charley Douglass started “sweetening” the audio, inserting laughs at failed jokes, editing down yuks that went on too long, to regulate the comic beats. But what is louder than the din of disingenuous laughter when a joke isn’t funny? It’s a hand hanging in the air, waiting for the high five slap that never comes, that loud silence of one hand clapping. But bad jokes are like tripping over air currents — you’ve gotta catch your fall and keep moving.

Network sitcoms have become less reliant on laugh tracks — Parks and Recreation, Glee, Modern Family, and the new Brooklyn Nine Nine, for example, don’t use them. But these are mockumentaries, musicals, and/or single-camera shows. Laugh tracks tend to signal to an audience that they’re tucking into more conventional fare, by which I mean, a show that, as Joseph Winkler described in “A Sitcom Even a Nihilist Could Love,” features beleaguered straight-man (or woman) protagonist at work surrounded by zany colleagues, and at home, where he or she juggles a fraught relationship with an overbearing or neurotic parent, a partner or an ex (or the ever-present absence of no love life at all), and a resident smart-alecky kid. And the laughs punctuate every sentence like an exclamation point.

(Video: a laugh track-free clip from The Big Bang Theory)

Miley Cyrus was the only guest on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon last night, and once again The Roots demonstrated that they're the most gifted musicians in late night, if not all of television. This a cappella rendition of "We Can't Stop", which features the band as well as Miley and Jimmy in a Brady Bunch-style split screen, is simple but undeniably charming. Though for my money, it'll never rival their cover of the Sesame Street theme.