It’s time for “America’s National Holiday,” which means watching your favorite animal vermin on video! There is an actual “rat bowl,” but it’s so disturbing — it features three oiled baby rats, all sliding around and being weird, plus it is really a bowl of old cooking oil in someone’s filthy kitchen — that we cannot put it on a family publication such as The Awl. Plus, the “embed code” is turned off. So enjoy this “rat bowling” instead. Do you know the difference between a common rat and a pro football player? The rat has never been arrested for assault or torturing dogs! Also most rats are not homophobic, and none of them believe in Jesus, and many of them can read and write.

Here is something called the “Snakehead Fish Bowl,” with the joke being that the snakehead is very much out of the fish bowl, and breathing on land (a kitchen floor?) and also enjoying some hip-hop. This is why the snakehead fish is banned in America, because of racism.

Oh look, roaches are racing around! They are “well trained roaches.” We hope you enjoyed this year’s super bowl of animal shame. Don’t miss the puppies in lingerie, Sunday at 9 p.m. sharp on your favorite channel.

A Ninja Superstar, From “Jujitsu Rabbi And The Godless Blonde”

by Rebecca Dana

An excerpt from the opening of journalist Rebecca Dana’s new memoir, Jujitsu Rabbi and the Godless Blonde: A True Story. The book tells about the year Dana spent living in a Hasidic neighborhood in Brooklyn, with a rabbi named Cosmo, while working as a fashion writer for Tina Brown.

It’s ten o’clock on a Tuesday night, a light rain is falling on the wide streets of Brooklyn, and I’m in my living room, strangling a rabbi.

This is the first time I’ve ever physically assaulted a man of God, and I have to say, it feels excellent. My fingers, with their chipped red nail polish, are digging into the soft white flesh of his rabbi-neck. My heart is pounding loudly in my ears. Normally, I am the least violent person on the planet — a practitioner of yoga, a shopper for shoes — but in this moment, I’m completely unhinged. I’m a ballerina-assassin, a ninja superstar, a platinum-haired dragon slayer in Stella McCartney vegan loungewear. Watch out assholes: Jujitsu Blonde is in the house. (She lives here, actually. She was trying to read the December Vogue before turning in early on a work night, but then this bearded dude rolled up talking smack, and now she’s on the path of destruction.)

Somewhere off in the distance, someone is blasting the 10,000 Maniacs on a wheezing desktop speaker system, and I can just barely hear Natalie Merchant whining about something, and I make a mental note to kick her ass someday too.

Who is this guy anyway — this Hasid, this pillar of his community, this ginger-haired fucker with the squinty eyes and the placid demeanor and the beige yarmulke the size of a dinner plate bobby-pinned to his head? I want to smack the Coke-bottle glasses off his pale God-fearing face. Has he ever even seen the sun? I can tell he’s wearing tzitzit, a religious garment, underneath his clothes because the fringe is hanging out like some short sham of a hula skirt. And the t-shirt he’s got on over it is a trip: It has a drawing of Calvin and Hobbes on the front and a dialogue bubble with the words “New York Attitude.” I’ll show this gentle Yid some New York Attitude. I’ll show him what two hours a day of Iyengar yoga and a bachelor’s degree in American history and an encyclopedic knowledge of the last eight seasons of ready-to-wear from Paris, New York and Milan and a diet of sushi, soy milk and organic spinach — and, oh yeah, a broken motherfucking heart — can do. I’ll send him back to Russia with a collapsed wind-pipe and no knees!

Because the night belongs to lovers!

You’re next, bitch.

The rabbi twists around forty-five degrees and looks at me with one straining eye. We’re basically the same size, only he has more padding around the middle, and he’s wearing some heinous pair of frayed brown rabbi-shoes that lift him up an extra half-inch. But still I’m thinking: no problem. I don’t care how “chosen” this flabster is, he’s going down. My hands are steel claws. I tighten my grip, taking a moment to contemplate my options: Would it be better to body-slam him down right here in the living room or drag his limp carcass out into the courtyard first so everyone can watch? Then I notice the muscles in his back tense, and — uh oh. There are muscles in his back.

In an instant, everything changes. He reaches up and grabs my wrists and performs some freaky Mortal Kombat maneuver, nearly stripping the delicately exfoliated and moisturized skin of my forearms from the bone. He pulls me toward him, into his damp right armpit, and holds me there for just one second, just long enough that I can see the fire in his eyes, just close enough that I can smell his breath: pizza. And then without warning I go down, I don’t even know how, like one big bag of elbows clattering against the wood floor, blinkered and speechless, while above me, Cosmo the Rabbi grins madly.

Everyone has a fight-or-flight response, but in this case, both impulses strike me simultaneously. I want to run away, and I want to clock him. Fight and flight. Maybe it’s a Jew-thing. Observance-wise, Cosmo and I are opposites, but in the technical aspect, we are the same: Equal in the eyes of God and the S.S., we are both genetically Jews, both members of a tribe that has been chased around the world, kicking and screaming — fighting while fleeing — for the last three thousand years. Millennia of genetic imprinting and a lifetime of poor impulse control nearly propel me in two directions, at him and away, but in the end both lose out, and I sit there, motionless, holding back tears.

“At this point I would stomp on your face,” he says cheerfully. “Or kick you in the head, at least.”

That’s what happens when you fuck with God.

Rebecca Dana is a former reporter for Newsweek, The Daily Beast, the Wall Street Journal and the New York Observer. She lives in Manhattan.

“The opera is a score in search of a story. Dantine has gone from narrator to bit player; the tension between him and Disney, Old World and New, has vanished without being replaced by another drama. The book’s most striking set pieces — Disney’s dialogue with an animatronic Abraham Lincoln; the unexpected arrival of a frightening girl in an owl mask — retain their mysterious power onstage but don’t connect to their surroundings.”

More bits:

by Michael Macher

The mobile revolution has made portability an indispensable part of our lives. For better or worse, we do most of our work, communicating and computing on our tablets and phones. And for those of us who crave high quality audio there are now a plethora of portable speakers hitting the markets. And if you happen to be looking for a portable speaker, we recommend you check out the new AMP SP1. We recently had the opportunity to take the SP1 out for a test run on our mobile devices.

Here are the vitals: The SP1 allows you to stream all of your digital media from your Bluetooth-enabled device including your phone, tablet, computer, and mp3 player. It features a built-in microphone to pick up or place calls through phone, Skype, GoogleVoice, Viber, and more 30 feet of wireless connectivity and up to 10 hours of playback time. Sounds promising!

Here’s how AMP has positioned the SP1:

Whether it’s listening to music, watching movies, or playing games, Antec Mobile Products’ SP1 portable Bluetooth speaker will let you hear your media the way it was meant be heard. And with built-in microphone and controls, you’ll never miss a call; easily switch between your music and phone functions with the touch of a button. For even more convenience, pair the SP1 with your laptop and stay in touch through Skype and Google or pair it with your smart phone and use it with Viber.

And here are our impressions.

The Design

The SP1 features a clean, minimal design that tastefully incorporates unique color elements without looking over the top. The speaker has a perforated metal grill and is encased by a protective, tight-gripping rubber outer layer. The SP1 only has three buttons: volume up, volume down, and a pairing button for connecting the unit to your mobile device. We can definitely get behind this “less is more” design philosophy.

The unit is small, measuring out at 2.4″ x 6.2″ x 1.6″ and weighing just under 1 lbs. We found that the compact size and lightweight design allowed for easy transportation, and we were easily able to fit the speaker in our jacket pockets and small backpacks with minimal issues. As an added bonus, the SP1 is available in black, green and white, so you can choose based on your own design sensibility.

Audio Quality

Overall we were impressed with the quality of the audio coming out of the small SP1. We were able to easily connected the speaker to our bluetooth enabled Nexus 4 and start playing music. The speakers gave us loud, clear sound that feels surprisingly big. While we did experience some minor low end distortion while jamming on 2 Chainz at higher volumes, the audio held up surprisingly well for a speaker of its size.

We also ran a few calls through the SP1. If you’re looking for a speaker phone solution for your home or office, this is a great option. Calls came through consistently and sounded great through the SP1. The rich, full audio quality of the SP1 actually made my interlocutors sound more like themselves, and less like the bizarro “phone voice” versions I’ve become accustomed to.

Conclusion

Overall we were very impressed by the design and performance of the SP1. Not only is it remarkably portable, but the versatility of use and quality of the audio make this unit a clear choice for people seeking to enable high quality audio on their mobile devices. And with pricing hovering around $90, the SP1 won’t break the bank.

Here are the specs.

Tech Specs
Bluetooth: Bluetooth Ver 2.1 +EDR
Connection: Bluetooth or 3.5mm Stereo Cable
Bluetooth Range: Up to 10m (33ft)
Battery: 1500mAh Li-Ion Rechargeable Battery
Playback Time: Up to 10hrs*
RMS (Watts): 3W + 3W (THD 10%)
Frequency Response: 2.402~2.480 GHz
Support Profiles: A2DP, AVRCP, HFP, HSP,
Microphone: Yes
Color: Green
Controls: Talk, Volume Up/Down, Power/Pairing
Unit Dimensions: 62mm x 158mm x 41mm; 2.4″ x 6.2″ x 1.6″
Package Dimensions: 84mm x 184mm x 58mm; 3.3″ x 7.2″ x 2.3″
Net Weight: 0.83 lbs / 0.38 kg
Gross Weight: 1.3 lbs / 0.6 kg

by Vijith Assar

16. Liz: She’ll be like, “Whaaat?” (41:48)

15. Jack: Wait, you’re Sam? (42:16)

14. Grizz: Wait, you’re Sam? Don’t even say it. (41:26)

13. Kenneth: So the whole show just takes place here at 30 Rockefeller Plaza — is that right, Ms. Lemon? [Yes sir…] I know, and I love it. (42:28)

12. Dot Com: Tracy is exactly where you think he is, Liz. It’s the closest thing he has to hiding out in a church. (30:50)

11. Elisa: Thank you, you two, for blowing my brains. (14:04)

10. Lutz: Blimpie’s! (31:22)

9. Josh: Cupcake sandwich! Cupcake sandwich! Cupcake sandwich! (34:58)

8. Toofer: Cupcake sandwich! Cupcake sandwich! Cupcake sandwich! (34:58)

7. Frank: Cupcake sandwich! Cupcake sandwich! Cupcake sandwich! (34:58)

6. Tracy: My dad finally came back from getting cigarettes. (42:02)

5. Jonathan: You’re no longer special to him! Get out! Get out of our lives! Yes! Hahaha! (19:46)

4. Cerie: Cupcake sandwich! Cupcake sandwich! Cupcake sandwich! (34:58)

3. Pete: Who’s Pete? I have amnesia. Aw, damn it, I practiced this. Hi, buddies! (42:20)

2. Jenna: See you later, suckas! Meep meep! Pewwwww! (41:41)

1. Nancy: Oh, Jack, porking in that prison basement was wicked awesome. (13:59)

Vijith Assar’s favorite line was: “You frustrated me and you wore me out, but because the human heart is not properly connected to the human brain, I love you.”

Tomorrow sees the 25th anniversary of the release of one of the greatest works of art of the 20th century, Brenda Russell’s “Piano In The Dark.” Some of us were slow to see its power, perhaps due to its incessant repetition on the broadcast media of the time, but as is the case with most true classics the mixture of memory and distance reveals its true worth to even the initially skeptical. Because I have been misinterpreted by some in the past I’d like to make it very clear that I am being completely sincere here: This is an amazing song, and if your friends are irritated by the fact that you play it on repeat and bellow-sing the chorus over and over that is a small price to pay for giving proper tribute to an inarguable example of genius. I imagine it works equally well at karaoke, but I don’t go to that; you’ve got to draw the line somewhere.

It’s February again! Guess what that means!

“A Southwest Florida woman accused of kicking people’s genitals has been charged with battery on a law enforcement officer after punching him in the face, according to the Manatee County Sheriff’s Office. The deputy responded about 2:45 p.m. Tuesday to a dispatch call of a ‘female in the street kicking people in genitals and running around,’ according to a police report.”

“It is a nutty winter for the state’s only bear rehabilitator, Ben Kilham, who is caring for a record 27 orphaned bear cubs who will not go to sleep.”

Ed Koch was mayor of New York City for the entirety of 1978 through 1989. He was the city’s third three-term mayor. The thing about mayors is they don’t actually do all that much, and what they do takes forever to get done, but their personality infects the entire city. “Mr. Koch governs in large part through style, personality and the perception created by his enthusiasm,” wrote the Times in 1986. This is true particularly in a three-term mayor and particularly true in hindsight, of course — but any survivor of the endless Bloomberg era would have to agree.

Koch was in Congress from 1969 to 1977, but even then was never too far from New York City, rarely spending weekends in D.C. He despised John Lindsay, who was mayor from 1966 to 1973, with tiny Abe Beame serving for one term between them. Lindsay, whose legacy has recently been recast into the heroic mode, took all of Koch’s umbrage for the decline of New York City. Beame’s mayorship was a brutal one, slashing and reorganizing city spending to reconfigure the city’s finances from a massive deficit to a surplus, a situation Koch inherited when Beame didn’t even place second in the Democratic primaries for a second term. “John Lindsay mortgaged the city’s future,” Koch later said. “What am I supposed to do — shut up and pretend it never happened? Lindsay fought back, but the damage was done.

Koch, as well as being a hilarious person in general, was also an oddball. After a trip to China, he wanted to populate New York City with bike lanes. In 1984, in the Times, he wrote an emotional appeal in favor of the death penalty. It concluded: “’The law is a ass,’ Charles Dickens wrote nearly 150 years ago. No, it is not the law, it is the people who created the law who should be so described.” Due to his mouthiness, he was once officially uninvited to visit Greece.

In 1972, Congressman Koch was told by a panhandler that Koch should give him a quarter or he’d be beaten up. Koch hunted down a cop, who complained that the paperwork for arresting the guy would be too much. Koch insisted, the panhandler was arrested, and they all went to the precinct house and then to the court, where the panhandler was fined $50. Fortunately for him, he’d given a fake name, and he slipped away, never paying.

Koch was also perhaps the single most pro-Israel politician of our time. In October of 1977, when he was the Democratic primary candidate for his first term for mayor, he handed President Jimmy Carter a letter — in a staged event, regarding which he’d alerted the media — protesting the very mention of Palestine in peace talks at the United Nations.

In 1981, he called the United Nations ‘’a pack of fools’’ and ‘’hypocrites.”

In 1983, John B. Oakes denounced Koch in the Times, for his “latter-day McCarthyism.” Koch had given a speech which said that any Jew who didn’t fully support the current policies of Israel were essentially anti-Semites. That same year, an invitation to Beirut was withdrawn by the government, because he’d entered Lebanon in an Israeli helicopter, without permission.

Koch was also a warning about the spoilage that happened to a mayoral machine in its third term. As early as 1986, the city was awash in scandal. Although the city government imploded throughout much of his third term, it was most likely through no active fault of Koch’s except inattention. At one time, he met monthly with the head of all city agencies. In early 1988, such a gathering was notable, because it had not occurred in at least five months. His inattentiveness to AIDS was at least part of this third-term removal from the day-to-day running of the city.

But then, he was also criticized for spending $7 million on his reelection campaign, a number that seems laughably small now.

Bizarrely, Koch released a memoir while still in office, in 1984. (More bizarrely, it was made into a Broadway musical. Characters in the musical included Cardinal John O’Connor, Leona Helmsley and New York City hero Sue Simmons.) The memoir came under attack from people such as Bella Abzug, who called him a liar. He also used the book to pit blacks against Jews, one of his favorite tactics.

Among his successes was the actual creation of low-income and middle-class housing, a project that has not met with any success since. And Koch, unlike all the mayors to follow, only became rich late in life. In 1980, his tax returns said that he paid $29,333.75 in taxes on income of $70,753.92.

Ed Koch ran for a fourth term, in 1989, but lost the Democratic primary to David Dinkins by almost 100,000 votes.