Filed under: Creamsicle, Freakin' Cell Phones, Haggis, Health Foods, Information Technology, Keith Olbermann, Naked Lady, Philosophy, Things That are White, Things to Eat, Tofu, Warren Zevon, Who Maketh My Spirit to Shine
Cristiane writes: “If you could, Mattress, maybe you could get KO’s Closet to ingest those voluminous khakis and white shoes that KO wore on Craig Ferguson’s show, with perhaps a discreet burp, leaving only buttons behind?”
We here in KeithVille are touched by his fans’ concern with his appearance and personal grooming habits. But it seems that everyone has missed the point regarding what has rapidly become known as the “White Pants Fiasco” on Craig Ferguson’s show last Friday.
Keith’s agent, Jean Sage, has secured an endorsement deal for him with the American Soybean Association. As part of the agreement and to increase the National Soybean Awareness Factor (NSAF) Keith will, on occasion, dress as a soybean product. Those who are familiar with the nutritious and highly proteinaceous legume instantly recognized “L’Aura Tofu” (accessorized with black bean sauce) modeled by Keith on last week’s “Late, Late Show.”
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“Tofu with Black Bean Sauce and a side of Haggis”
In the near future Tofu Keith will appear as Smoked Tofu Paella and Tofu Quiche.
Keith’s ASA contract has been beneficial to all parties, although he has balked at appearing as Soybean Falafel. The ASA is attempting to sign Bill O’Reilly for those commercial spots.
Fans concerned with a possible conflict between the ASA deal and Keith’s Creamsicle endorsement with the Popsicle brand (a subsidiary of Unilever US, Inc.) need not worry. His legal team, headed by Bombastic Bushkin, have all the necessary details ironed out.
Mr. Bushkin continues to pursue other endorsement opportunities for Keith, including Dairy Queen and Jet Puffed Marshamallows.
[Two items of possible interest: Store Wars and Paradise Sold. Just because you buy it at Whole Foods doesn’t mean it’s good for you.]
Filed under: Freakin' Cell Phones, Information Technology, Keith Olbermann, Literature, Moby Dick, Nicotine, The Tiffany Network, Things That are White, Tom Wolfe, Vogue
Anna Wintour writes: “Are you kidding me? He would have looked like Moby Dick in a white suit.”
Anna!
Baby! Darling! Sweetheart!
Just love your work!!!
Gorgeous boys and gorgeous girls wearing gorgeous fashion and living in gorgeous style. Who wouldn’t want to just absolutely drown in the waters of such physical beauty?
But — and I hope you don’t mind me saying so — your comment on Keith and the Melville classic is a tad superficial.
No, no, no! Don’t feel bad! Your life is about fashion; you haven’t had time for literature.
So glad you wrote. I was just discussing “Moby Dick” with the coffee table and the torchiere lamp. (Like, what else are we supposed to do when Keith is not here?) There is a lot going on beneath the surface, and I don’t mean just the whale. The book is just loaded with symbolism.
Par example: Queequeg’s coffin.
It’s a coffin, right? Right. He builds it because he is going to die, or someone else is going to die. You’ve got to be one soggy falafel to not know that somebody is going to bite the big one in this book. (I mean, let’s put it up in neon lights, for crying out loud.)
But it is more than a symbol of death. Did you read the book, or the Classics Illustrated version? The latter is good, but it does lack some of the nuance of the actual novel.
At any rate, do you recall what happens at the end? Moby takes Ahab for a swim in the deep end of the pool, the Pequod goes down, yada-yada-yada …. All very sad.
But! Ishmael survives. Yes! He survives by clinging to Queequeg’s coffin, which keeps him afloat until he is rescued. Thus the coffin represents not only death, but life, rebirth, renewal.
Tres Zen, n’est-ce pas?
Back to the White Whale — and may I add that the kitchen appliances are in complete agreement with you that Keith is awfully white, even for a white guy? A real haole boy. He would look better with a tan. All those carrot sticks aren’t really cutting it. I don’t understand why he can’t catch some rays when he’s up at Yankee Stadium.
At any rate …. Where was I? Oh, yes: symbolism.
Take a look at this. It’s a pretty good summary; emphasis is mine:
The White Whale is one of the best known symbols in American literature. What it represents depends entirely on who is noticing. To Starbuck, Moby Dick is just another whale, except that he is more dangerous. Early in the novel, Starbuck challenges Ahab’s motives for altering the ship’s mission, from accumulating oil to killing the White Whale. On the quarter-deck in Chapter 36, Starbuck calls it “blasphemous” to seek revenge on a “dumb brute … that simply smote thee from blindest instinct!” If Starbuck sees anything beyond that in the whale, it is that Moby Dick represents the captain’s madness and a very serious diversion from the ship’s proper mission. The Samuel Enderby’s captain, who has lost an arm to the White Whale, sees it as representing a great prize in both glory and sperm oil but seems very reasonable in his desire to leave the whale alone. He says to Ahab, “There would be great glory in killing him, I know that; and there is a ship-load of precious sperm in him, but, hark ye, he’s best let alone; don’t you think so, Captain?” (Chapter 100) Ahab points out that the “accursed thing is not always what least allures.”
To some, the White Whale is a myth. To others, he is immortal. But one significant question is, What is the White Whale to Ahab? Ishmael grants that Ahab views the whale as an embodiment of evil. Ishmael himself is not so sure. The narrator often sees both sides of a question, never more so than in Chapter 42, “The Whiteness of the Whale.” There he tells us that Moby Dick’s whiteness might represent good or evil, glory or damnation, all colors or the “visible absence of color.”
For Ahab’s interpretation, it is helpful to consider the captain’s comments in the pivotal Chapter 36. There, the captain says he sees Moby Dick as a “mask,” behind which lies a great power whose dominance Ahab refuses to accept.* Ahab sees that inscrutable power as evil. Some scholars argue that it is not the whale, or the force behind the whale, that is evil; the evil is in Ahab. Others see the captain as simply insane. Ahab is out of control as he rants about attacking the force behind the façade of Moby Dick. He wants to kill the whale in order to reach that force. Ahab seems to want to be a god.* As great and charismatic a man as he can be in his finest moments, the captain is destructively egocentric and mad for power. To Ahab, we might conclude, the White Whale represents that power which limits and controls man. Ahab sees it as evil incarnate. But perhaps it is just a big, smart fish.
[*Who knew Captain Ahab is a branch in the O’Reilly family tree?]
Thus, what you see in the Great Whale is determined by your perspective, your frame of reference. The sofa points out that this is another tidy example of Einstein’s Special Theory of Relativity, i.e., how an observer’s point-of-view can skew what is seen. (Such a show-off! Just because he was a desk at MIT in a previous life.) It kills me to say this, but he does have a point: EinsteinLight. More specifically, the Inertial Frame of Reference
So, yes: Keith in white could represent Moby Dick. And he could also be evil/damnation, good/glory, an immortal myth, a very large soft-serve vanilla ice cream cone, or the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. He is a many-faceted fellow.
If you have the time, download “Moby Dick” from Project Gutenberg. There’s even an audio version.
May I ask a favor? You have many friends in the publishing business. Do you think you can get me an interview with the Times? I’d love to do the Sunday Book Review. If not that, then articles on baseball for The New Yorker once Angell retires.
Kiss-kiss, hug-hug.
Ciao, babe.
Filed under: Creamsicle, Fun Things in the Bathroom, Haggis, Health Foods, Information Technology, Keith Olbermann
Anonymous writes : “I love your uniquely intimate view of Mr. Olbermann’s life, KO’s bed. This has become one of my daily blogs.”
I thank you for your kind comment.
But if you think this is good, you should hear what the shower caddy has to say.
I hope Ferguson conducts a good interview tonight. Leno wasn’t so hot. It was almost like he was afraid Keith would say something controversial.
Or wave “Yoo hoo” to someone in the audience.
(Am I the only one who thinks these guys got cojones for putting “Nutritional Information” on their Web site? Yoo-Hoo nutritional?)
I take back everything I said about the brown suit.
After browsing some fashion sites I realize that I prefer to have you look like a 6’4″ Hershey bar rather than …
Rather than …
Well, you look at them:
The Pringle of Scotland stuff isn’t half-bad. You might want to ask Craig Ferguson about it.
Filed under: Baseball Cards, Keith Olbermann, Martha Stewart, Oriental Paper Art
(Leno is pretty funny, but there will never be another Johnny.)
Not the brown suit!
You looked like a 6-foot, 4-inch Hershey bar!
What was wrong with the dark blue one? Or the grey one?
“For a long time, brown suits were out as business wear, but they seem to have made a strong comeback, thanks to stylish black men and President Reagan.” From men.style.com
Note to Keith: You are not black and you are not President Reagan.
These are nice, and not a brown one in the bunch.
Since it is summer you could have gone with something like this:
Of course, it would have made you look like a Cuban drug lord or Ricardo Montalban on “Fantasy Island.”
You need a fashion coach. I hear Martha Stewart is out of prison. Perhaps she can help. But you’ll have to keep an eye on her so she doesn’t go all origami with the baseball cards.
Filed under: Electronic Arts, Information Technology, Keith Olbermann, Sex Partner Solicitation Program, The New York Times
NEW YORK (Dissociated Press) … “I regret to announce that following several altercations taking place at this event, I have decided to cancel the Keith Olbermann Sex Partner Solicitation Program,” …
I had a bad feeling about this from the start.
You get massive amounts of estrogen and progesterone concentrated in one location and all heck will break out. All heck, I tell you: Why women are nuts.
Oh well. Keith will have to rely on his own devices to find dates. He’s got to come up with a better pick-up line than “So, what’s your opinion on slugging percentages in the Dead Ball Era, the post-WWII era, and the Steroid Era?”
At least things are quiet now. I’ve been able to experiment a little with the server; it would be useful in managing a database of Keith’s baseball card collection as well as one for his ties. I could use up half a gig of space on his striped ties alone.
But it might also be fun to set it up as a game server. Electronic Arts is interested in developing a series. If we do this right we could challenge the Madden franchise:
He’s off to California for a few days on a business trip. Stirring up trouble, no doubt. Nice to not have to wrestle him for the Sunday Times crossword puzzle.
What’s a five-letter word for “Norse poetry collection?”
I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,
When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;
Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:
The shapes a bright container can contain!
Of her choice virtues only gods should speak,
Or English poets who grew up on Greek
(I’d have them sing in chorus, cheek to cheek.)
How well her wishes went! She stroked my chin,
She taught me Turn, and Counter-turn, and stand;
She taught me Touch, that undulant white skin:
I nibbled meekly from her proffered hand;
She was the sickle; I, poor I, the rake,
Coming behind her for her pretty sake
(But what prodigious mowing did we make.)
Love likes a gander, and adores a goose:
Her full lips pursed, the errant note to seize;
She played it quick, she played it light and loose;
My eyes, they dazzled at her flowing knees;
Her several parts could keep a pure repose,
Or one hip quiver with a mobile nose
(She moved in circles, and those circles moved.)
Let seed be grass, and grass turn into hay:
I’m martyr to a motion not my own;
What’s freedom for? To know eternity.
I swear she cast a shadow white as stone.
But who would count eternity in days?
These old bones live to learn her wanton ways:
(I measure time by how a body sways.)
Theodore Roethke
(Some commentary.)
Filed under: Information Technology, Keith Olbermann, The Horizontal Boogie
Whose bright idea was it to organize Keith’s sex life?
Is it possible to “organize” his sex life?
Do worms have shoulders?
I just placed the order for the database server. I hope the Red Hat OS and the ten 73GB hard drives will be enough. If there’s any excess capacity I can organize his baseball card collection.
I’m not sure how to set up the database. I created a draft template and will check with Keith to see if he wants any modifications made to it.
For crying out loud. I’m a mattress, not an IT guy!
I’ll bet O’Reilly’s mattress doesn’t have to go through stuff like this.
Jean is going to be signing up women at Columbus Circle on Saturday. I have no idea why she didn’t just outsource the job to TicketMaster. That way the girls can register online, and we can rake in a few bucks to pay for all the ties, pillowcases, and other KO-memorabilia they walk off with. It’s going to be awfully hectic at 59th and Central Park West on Saturday. I mean, Springsteen sells out the Meadowlands within minutes after his concert tickets hit the market. I envision the Keith Olbermann Sex Partner Solicitation Program reaching that level.
Yet why we’re doing all this now is beyond me. Things are really hopping at Countdown, what with the change in management and the news coming out of the Middle East. Plus being forced by the high-muckety-mucks to cover Brit and K-Fed, Brangelina, TomKat, etc. Plus plus the radio gig with DP. And — the most critical point — we are smack dab in the middle of baseball season! It’s almost like he doesn’t have time for sex right now.
I said “almost.”
WOW! What a fun weekend!
I love being Keith Olbermann’s mattress!!!
This is even better than my previous life as a Coney Island rollercoaster!
But you know this last one stole a pillowcase. She wanted a tie, but the closet door didn’t let her get in there.
Why do you get these Cargo Cult types? What do they do with all the stuff they take out of here? Build a Keith Shrine that they can genuflect before? Sell it on eBay? Golly-gee-whiz, who would do something like that?
Oh, well. At least she didn’t sweat that much. And she didn’t seem like one of the Scalp Collector types: “A nice roll-in-the-hay with Olbermann, cross him off the list, and then run off to nail Geraldo.”
One word for those:
Ick.
You should give some thought to installing a metal detector outside the bedroom door. She brought a cell phone in here and called a friend when you went back to the kitchen to get more wine. The friend told her to use the phone to take some photos or videos. You’re lucky the bedspread swallowed it so she couldn’t reach it when things got hot and heavy. What? Like you want to show up naked on YouTube?
And she wasn’t at all happy about having to go to the Yankee game with you yesterday afternoon. “How the f*** am I supposed to know what the infield fly rule is???” she asked no one in particular. The table lamp was going to respond, but I told him I didn’t think she was a keeper, and so to save his breath.
She also mumbled something about ” … f***ing stupid probablity graph!” You didn’t bring up Appelman’s All-Star game analysis, did you? I keep telling you: Probability and statistics are definite off-limit topics for a first date. Anything related to math, actually. You always lose them when you start talking OBP, OBS, and RBI. Of course, she thought you were a wonderful feminist when you mentioned Farnsworth’s ERA.
Oh. And she thinks Geraldo is related to Mariano.
Oops. Gotta run. Just got an email from O’Reilly’s mattress. Sounds like it was another quiet weekend in The No Spin-or-Thrills-in-Bed Zone.
I hate to complain. But:
Again with the popcorn.
I hate being covered with salt and unpopped kernels. It’s very uncomfortable. I don’t see how you can stand it. This is your bedroom. This is not Yankee Stadium.
And when is someone going to clean up underneath me? That pile of lingerie has gotten pretty annoying. Don’t your friends know enough to clean up after themselves? And I think there’s a Mantle rookie card under me, too.
I’d also appreciate it if you would move all those baseball books off of me. I’m getting smothered by that ESPN Baseball Encyclopedia, the Baseball Prospectus, and all those Bill James tomes.
You can leave the New Yorkers. I enjoy leafing through them when you’re not home. I particularly like the cartoons. Here are some of my favorites.
[Registration on cartoonbank.com required. It’s free and I promise you it will be well worth it.]
Champ_des_Reves 
