I just came across this headline:  “Massive Air Spill at Wind Farm Threatening Nothing”

Story to follow.

The good news: Some hoteliers in San Diego have banded together to commit a $500,000 inducement over five years to keep the Comic Con in San Diego.

The bad news:  The money is going to come from people who stay in those hotel rooms, in the form of a 2% tax on top of  the 10.5% hotel tax.

In other words, about 7,000 of us who stay in Comic-Con block hotel rooms will be paying 2% more to keep 126,000 people who come to the Con and spend their money in hotels and restaurants and on cabs and so forth.

That doesn’t sound like much of a contribution from the city — and, technically, it isn’t any contribution from the city. Moreover, it sounds suspiciously like a regressive tax.

At least this book is from someone who has read a book.

In addition to being a terrific actor, my good friend Darrell Kunitomi is an avid fly fisherman (and, to my family and me, a nature guide of sorts). Courtesy of the Sierra Club, here’s a slideshow of what he recently found while fishing in the Angeles National Forest. It involves spraypaint, and it isn’t pretty.

Take a look.

If you’re tired of hearing a patient or family member’s private conference with a doctor misconstrued as a “death panel,” you may enjoy this:

Public radio’s Ira Glass, on his show “This American Life,” devoted his show this weekend to a fact-based analysis of California gubernatorial candidate Steve Poizner’s book “Mount Pleasant,” which details Poizner’s semester as a volunteer teacher at a high school in  East San Jose. Here’s part of what he found:

“I’ve been in great schools, I’ve been in dangerous schools — urban schools, suburban schools. Mt. Pleasant is definitely one of the better public high schools I’ve ever visited. And I know it may seem like I’m belaboring all this, putting this book under a microscope point-by-point, but so many of the political discussions in our country seem so disconnected from reality. Every year there are egregious examples of politicians and commentators who believe if they repeat some non-fact over and over, it becomes true. And the more I looked into Poizner’s book, the more it seemed like one of those rare cases that’s so obviously and provably untrue. “

I’m looking forward to Poizner’s response to this. (And I’m surprised we don’t already have it.) Here’s my prediction: This is another example of “liberal media bias, made worse because this is public radio, funded by taxpayer dollars.” Or something like that.

Here’s the LA Times’ coverage of this fun episode, where you can download the transcript or click to listen to the broadcast.

Would you read a book by someone you’re not sure has read one?

How about a “candid account” by someone either relentlessly confused or flat-out lying?

How about a book about how “key decisions” were made, even though every single one of them was the wrong decision?

If so, here’s the book for you.

The new official Comic-Con iPhone App is out. Here’s the link.

Also, you may have heard that there’s a pernicious campaign to move Comic-Con out of San Diego; suitors include Anaheim and Los Angeles. I’ve been to Anaheim more times than you can imagine lately, and can attest that it completely lacks the scenic charm of  San Diego. San Diego features the Gaslamp Quarter, walking access to the bay for strolling and dining, and a clean, warm, sunny atmosphere for the Con. By contrast, Anaheim is an endless parking lot for Disneyland. There are more hotel rooms, yes, but that’s about it. As for Los Angeles, I’ve become a huge fan of the new LA Live center downtown, with many attractions and restaurants in a central walking location. But I don’t think the Con should — or will — move to a city teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. And speaking just for myself, I’d rather go away — to San Diego! — than commute to the Con. If you agree, you might want to join the Facebook group “Keep Comic Con in San Diego.” There’s also a website.

Finally, longtime readers of this site will recall the frenzy every year as we approach the date and time when group hotel reservations go on sale for the Con. It’s a frenzy because 126,000 people attend the Con — and only 7,000 rooms are made available at the Con rate. That’s enough rooms for only 5% of attendees, meaning you have about the same chance of getting a room as  Ron Paul has of becoming president. (Well, getting the room is probably fifty times as likely. But still.) Finally, someone has set up a scam. Here’s a recent notice posted on the Comic-Con website:

BEWARE!

It has come to our attention that a company identifying itself as Elite Locations is advertising that it can book local hotel rooms during Comic-Con.

First and foremost, San Diego Comic-Con is not affiliated with Elite Locations in any manner.

ALL of the hotels listed in their advertisement have indicated that Elite Locations does not have the right to book rooms on their behalf!

We also checked with the Las Vegas Better Business Bureau. The BBB rating given to Elite Locations (based on the BBB A-F scale) was an F — the lowest possible rating.

While we have had our own issues with hotel bookings, the best way to secure a hotel during Comic-Con is to:
1. Contact Travel Planners,
2. Contact the hotels directly, or
3. Book through a reputable, known travel agency or website.

This doesn’t surprise me. I only wonder why it has taken this long, in an age where the “$30” concert ticket costs $100 or more through  ticket brokers who buy up all the tickets. It does dismay me for one reason though:  This year my group and I were able to get two suites reserved — and before I could convince my friend to hold onto that second res and list it at ticket-broker rates, he released it. The markup on that suite could’ve paid for the whole trip.

When television and rock ‘n’ roll and the legal system were invented, did anyone foresee that one day the lead singer of the Sex Pistols would appear on “Judge Judy” to defend himself from charges made by his tour drummer? Surely, this must rank with the meeting between Nixon and Elvis.

The choicest moment for me: When Judge Judy, philosophizing about the relative merits of artistic works and therefore stretching back to theories originating with Aristotle, notes to the once and former Johnny Rotten “Jimmy Dorsey, Tommy Dorsey — now that was music!” A close second: when she scolds the unhappy that clearly he is in the wrong line of work. (Most of us would know what we’re getting into when we go to work for someone with the last name of “Rotten.”)

Last night I went with three other playwrights to see what I thought was a pretty dull play, David Hare’s “The Blue Room.” Whenever you find that you’re more involved with the lights and the sound and the music and watching the set changes (all of them admittedly pretty interesting in this production), then you know that the play isn’t working. I kept debating whether it was the script, the actors, or the direction, and landed finally on the script. Sex has never been so uninteresting, and every line sounded written, not spoken.

Afterward, the  four of us went out for a drink. I sat there, determined not to be the first to dig into the play. Maybe because I was so drained by seeing it. The experience was so enervating it had me wondering again whether the balance in quality between theatre and television had permanently shifted. When television is producing shows like “Breaking Bad” and “The Wire,” and you can carefully select what you want to see and when you want to see it with your DVR, and nine out of ten plays are a disappointment and every experience is a crapshoot and it all costs more, the argument for getting off your couch becomes harder. And no, you cannot imagine what it feels like to say this here.

One thing the theatre will always have over television is this:  drinks afterward. We had some fun at the expense of the show — I offered my usual analysis of why a play in question was 90 minutes with no intermission:  “So no one can leave early” — and somehow we got on the subject of drink and drugs. And then we got the quote of the night, something far better than anything in the play, something that I’ll be putting in a play of mine unless the playwright who said it beats me to it:

“I smoked weed. I didn’t like it. It made me feel like part of the wallpaper. Drinking is better. Alcohol is like me, plus.”

It’s so perfect a bit of dialogue that it sounds written. If only anything approaching that level had been in the actual play that night.

Imagine if the Tea Party was made up of black people.

The coverage of armed people showing up near the capitol threatening the president would be a little different, wouldn’t it?

Here’s how it might go.