Man-o-Manechevitz, are we glad we didn't go to Roskilde! Can you imagine, traveling 5,000 miles and Oasis goes and cancels! That said, we feel really bad for Eddie & Co. (not to the mention the families, etc.), but look on the bright side: Pearl Jam have always wanted to be the Who . . .

One good thing about being back in America: Caught a great episode of 90210 on FX -- Steve kisses a trannie, Brandon gets busted with Valerie's doobie and Ray pushes Donna down the stairs. Classic . . .

We've hit the Year 2000 halfway point, and Michael would like to declare Chris Starling's Planet Painkiller to be the Best Record of the Year Thus Far, followed by Doves' Lost Souls and Science and Nature from the Bluetones, of all people. Jason is far too important to listen to pop music, though he quite likes "The Thong Song."

Important Cultural Moment of the Week: Beck turns thirty. We hear he's a Scientologist. What's up with that? In other What's Up With That? News, why are the girls in mint commercials -- Certs, Smints, all of 'em -- so damned hot? One more: Have you people seen John and Greg Rice, the little tiny "real estate personalities" and official smallest three-foot-tall identical twins in the Guinness Book of World Records? WUWT?

The other day Michael stopped by Cellophane Square to pick up a copy of the David Johansen and the Harry Smiths album (which is most excellent, PS), and with their computer's assistance, was able to find a used copy filed under J in the blues section. Here's the scary part: The staff had no idea whom he was talking about. The problem with you kids today is you've got no damn sense of history.

Munchausen By Proxy. That's some fucked up shit right there . . . You know what was a good tune? Reflex's "The Politics of Dancing." Somebody ought to cover it, though we suppose Smash Mouth will get to it eventually . . . One of these days we're going to crack and actually buy one of those "Spring Break/Mardi Gras/Girls Gone Wild" videos. The pain, the pain . . .

Observations from Jason's recent road trip with Larry King: Is there a better soundtrack for the hills of Wyoming than Pavement's Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain? Plus, when you cross into South Dakota, Box Elder is but an hour away . . . It's very fucked up that the directions for something in Yellowstone National Park can include the words "next to the IMAX theater" . . . A sign you are not necessarily happy to see when you're in the most nowhere part of Nebraska: "Now Entering Hooker County" . . .

We leave the country for six damn months and E! has sunk to Celebrity Profiles: Maury Povitch. By Xmas they'll be down to, well, us. Kewl!

Oh how we hate those guys in the Enchirito commercials. Also, the whole idea of saving the chickens in Chicken Run by eating not one but two Whoppers is really fucking twisted, yo . . . Have we mentioned that they all die at the end of The Perfect Storm -- except for that son-of-a-bitch Christopher McDonald, goddammit!

Kelly on The Real World is easily -- easily! -- the hottest roomie in the show's nine-year history. She makes Michael woozy. Plus, she actually seems to be an OK chick for a sorority girl . . . As for Jason, he's got a woman he can't stand to be more than two feet away from, but he loves to fish . . .

We recently noted that The Family Guy is the Best Show Currently on TV. The other Best Show Currently on TV (sort of) is Action, which is just fucking brilliant. Don't miss it . . . The politics of, ooh ooh, feelin' good . . . Buttercup rules, as do Coldplay, Kingsley Amis and Commissioner Foley. Come to think of it, Bubbles pretty much rules too . . .

Last week we asked you folks to name your favorite Canadian. Well, despite a couple of Nice Tries, we're a little disappointed in the responses. The correct answers -- and remember, there are always Correct Answers -- are Rod Brind'amour, Robertson Davies, Edge & Christian, and Neal Fuckin' Peart!

Now we've decided to make this contest thingy somewhat official. As you must know, we self-important social commentators receive a whole mess of free stuff in the mail. If your responses to our queries -- huh huh, queries -- amuse us, we'll personally send you one of the many crappy CDs that we would otherwise hock for $2 or so. The only rules are that there are no rules. Entertain us and win a prize. Fail, and we'll mock you mercilessly right here in this very ring.

This week's contest: Who else haven't you kids heard of?

Contest responses -- as well as mash notes, hate mail, simple melodies, and, of course, tasty recipes -- to: sqwubbsy@aol.com

MICHAEL KRUGMAN and JASON COHEN
(July 7, 2000)