Dear Jon Stewart,

I was totally psyched to learn yesterday that you have bought a house in Red Bank, New Jersey, which is the town next to the town where I grew up-Little Silver, New Jersey. In fact, I went to Red Bank Regional High School, which, confusingly, is located in Little Silver. I don’t get back there so often since my mom moved away and I know the place has changed a lot. (So faaaaaancy, as Tony Soprano’s mom would say.) But as a way of welcoming you to this part of the world, I thought I might offer you some recommendations, sort of an area guide, hot spots to check out, that sort of thing.

1. The Front Street Trattoria, 31 Front Street, Red Bank
Good linguine with pesto. And pizza. The guy who used to run the place, David, gave me very first job there, as a dish washer and bus boy. (Come to think of it, I should maybe give him a call.) David was a great guy. He looked a lot like Slash from Guns n’ Roses. And he was a guitarist, too. But a fusion-jazz guitarist. So in the back kitchen, spraying plates in the twin metal sinks, I got way more familiar with music of Spyro Gyro than anyone should ever have to get. Also, there was an older guy who worked with me-grizzled, half-bearded, must have been pretty down-on-his-luck-who would eat the leftovers off the dishes that came back to us. I tried not to look. And halfway through the summer, the owner, Michael said we couldn’t drink any more Orangina for free, we could only drink the less expensive sodas. So that sucked. But it was a fun place to work. You should go.

2) Danny’s Pizza & Subs, 24 Ayers Lane, Little Silver, right across from the train station.
Good pizza, great subs. Get the “Italian” with proscuittini, capicola, salami, provolone. Get hot peppers on it. I worked there, too, as a delivery guy, once I got my license. On one of my first days, one of the older drivers warned me not to accept offers of sex from any of my delivery customers, though he said he had, of course, and that everybody else did. Because it would probably be a set up, he said. That was weird. We used to eat there three times a day. We went there so often that my friend Ted once said, “All roads lead to Danny’s,” which became a sort of crew motto for us. We thought it was so awesome at the time. Because of the way Ted said it, all mock profound and all. You can use that on The Daily Show if you want. Unless you don’t find it as funny as we did, somehow. Oh, I saw Bruce Springsteen at Danny’s once. (He was walking in, I was walking out. Well, actually, I was already in my car, he was in the parking lot. But, you know.) I know you’re about as big of a fawning geek for Bruce as everyone else, so you’ll probably appreciate that he was in the exact same bomber jacket he wore in the video for “One Step Up,” which had just come out around that time. Maybe you’ll see him there!

3) Edie’s, 164 Rumson Road, Little Silver
For breakfast. Excellent eggs, and so many different potato options to accompany them that it might be a little overwhelming at first. Relax. You live here now, you’ll have time to try them all. (The cottage fries are my favorite.) This is a nice place to sit and read the paper, too. Sort of an old-time diner vibe. I think you’ll dig it.

4) The Globe, 20 East Front Street, Red Bank
The Globe is a bar that was a hotel in the 1800s, and it smells like beer has been soaking into the wood floors since then. This a very good quality in a bar, I think. When I used to go there in the early 90s (the 1990s, I mean), it would be filled with beefy guys with goatees in trench coats and backwards baseball hats-guys who looked very much like the famous movie director Kevin Smith, who as I’m sure you know has a comic book shop about a block away. When I went back around ten years later, it was still filled with beefy guys with goatees in trench coats and backward baseball caps. I guess this was because Kevin Smith had gotten famous in the interim, and his look, which was the look of that part of New Jersey around the time he did, had sort of taken root as a local badge of pride. I liked this and I didn’t like it, you know what I mean?

5) Brannigans, 14 Wharf Avenue, Red Bank
Kind of diagonally across from the Globe, is another bar, Brannigans. Nice high ceilings. But a warning: If anyone, particularly an older delivery guy from Danny’s who told you not to have sex with customers, even though he had, ever offers to buy you a shot in Brannigans called a “cement mixer,” DO NOT ACCEPT. This is not a real shot! As it turns out, it is a mix of Bailey’s Irish Cream and lime juice. The lime juice curdles the cream, turning it to a consistency not unlike that of wet cement. Drinking it is not at all pleasant and might in fact make you throw up on the bar-which in turn might make the bar tender very angry (even though it would really have been his fault for making such a not-funny “gag” drink in the first place) and he may kick you out. If your friend Mark who is much bigger than you and very loyal and who has always come to your defense then ends up in a shouting match with the bartender that almost turns into a fist-fight, you might be physically removed from the premises by a bouncer, and for what might be the only time this ever happens to you (let’s hope!) you could be “banned for life” from an establishment. There’s probably a different bartender there now.

Oh and here’s Bruce, so you can spot him. He really is the best, isn’t he?

We already knew that London’s Olympic Stadium would be literally made of knives. Now the London 2012 chairman Sebastian Coe has hinted at the identity of the mascots for these coming Olympics: they will be “made of steel” and they will be “aimed at children.” Oh dear. Let’s take a look at the proposed designs for the stadium and the mascot!

It’s a good start, I guess, but I wish they’d paid a little more tribute paid to glassing, which, as the black sheep of the knife crime family, never really gets its due. A few scattered shards is all I’m asking for.

This is much more promising. Sure, Little Englanders will be upset by its European characteristics, but they’ve hit all the major points, right down to the hoodie-style helmet. They should call him “Mr. Shanky,” just because.

Overall, I’m very impressed. Blades up, Britain, the games will be here before you know it! Just keep dodging those daggers.

RELATED: Guardian readers have some suggestions of their own. Be sure not to miss the crack-smoking squirrel.

Installation artist Justin Lowe will recreate the everything-encrusted bathroom of the defunct Bowery club CBGB at Hartford’s Wadsworth Atheneum next month. The bathroom will be one part of an installation that has a “classic werewolf transformation scene that plays out metaphorically throughout,” which makes me wonder if he’s going to somehow trigger the smells of that infamous loo so as to make people get all howling-at-the-moon mad. Fun fact: Lowe was born in 1976 — three years after the club opened, 30 before it was shut down and replaced by a clothing store-slash-venue for intimate Axl Rose shows. [Via / Pic via]

by Halle Kiefer

Due to Ramin Setoodeh’s uber-dumb Newsweek article from a few weeks ago, “My Head Is Filled With Diarrhea, and Other Musings,” in which he questions gay actors’ ability to play straight characters (which apparently is a real thing that adult humans besides the author actually think?), I’m sure more people than usual were scrutinizing Neil Patrick Harris as he guest-starred as a straight man in this week’s episode of “Glee.” Who wasn’t busy analyzing his wrist-limpness or lip-gloss application count or unconscious eye rolls of disgust at naked ladies’ bodies, or however else we are judging perceived gayness in FICTIONAL CHARACTERS these days? However, if my PANTS have anything to say about it, I’d say NPH nailed his Glee debut. His Bryan Ryan is the exact mix of camp and swagger that spells Glee perfection, a female Sue Sylvester served up for our delectation. And like Sue, Bryan took great pleasure in ripping apart the club for which Will Schuester had sacrificed so much (his marriage! His Spanish classes! That complementary [OKAY, COMPLIMENTARY!] mattress he slept on that one time!) to build.

This week’s theme is dreams: dreams deferred, dreams realized, dreams wherein I meet NPH in real life and somehow convince him to make-out with me (I promise you will be only slightly disappointed!). Threatening budget cuts as the douche-iest member of the school board, NPH straighted it up as Schue’s former glee club rival, a one-time musical theater star and current Hummer dealership owner (MMM HMMM. Girlchild, please!). Bryan rips into New Directions for foolishly having hopes of stardom, turning their dreams to shame with his true-life experience with the triple-threat of failure. Dream Crusher, you’ve got the best of me! And you keep on crushing dreams in-ces-sant-ly! Having his ambitions crushed makes him want to do the same to the glee-sters. “You can’t feed a child sheet music,” Bryan snarls at Schue: “Well, you could for a while, but they’d be dead in a month.” Let the Battle of the Has-Beens BEGIN!

On the way out of practice, Hot Topic hot mess Tina picks up the crumpled piece of paper on which Artie had scribbled his dream, which says only “dancer.” O Artie! Lordy lordy, this plot line was devastating for sure. As Artie struggles with the idea that he will have to give up his life-long ambition due to his disability, Tina suggest they choreograph a dance they could both perform. Growing frustrated with his limitations (“My tap wheels suck!”) and thwarted by an early face-plant while using crutches, Artie pushes Tina away in anger. O Artie, aren’t all of our dreams just so many sucky tap wheels on the stage of life? And aren’t our tap wheels often so insufficient that we can’t even appreciated our superhuman upper body strength and the beautiful Goth that loves us no matter what? Tina encourages Artie to look into new therapies for his spinal cord injury, telling him to never give up his dream of walking. Can’t see how this could possibly end in heartbreak! Good job, TINA.

That night Bryan and Schue bond over their mutual despair and sizable pomade budget, serenading the Saddest Bar in Ohio (I’m joking; they are all this exact same bar) with a “Piano Man” duet. Bryan breaks down over his faded dreams of performance glory. “I have a box of Playbills in a box in my basement…like porn!” he confesses through his tears. The regular in the corner sips his Ohio Sunset (Lysol and blackberry brandy) and wipes away a single tear.

Meanwhile Jesse returns from SPRING BREAK (a spring break of one’s own, he calls it) just in time for classes to keep happening like they happened the entire time he was gone, and redoubles his efforts to sabotage and/or canoodle Rachel. Jesse is seriously so, so cute; I just want to eat his little marzipan face! He’s like a koala with better hair. I’d also like to offer his scenes in this episode as Defense Exhibit 1 Billion that gay actors can make convincing straight characters. “But Halle,” I can hear Mr. Setoodeh whining from the sewer grate he lives under, “you’ve dated at least 2 guys who later came out as gay, so maybe you aren’t the best judge of what’s straight-acting…” WILL. YOU. JUST. SHUT UP. ALREADY? Get your tentacles off of my Glee, please! Anyway, Jesse nudges Rachel to open up about her real dream of finding her birth mother, whom she has narrowed down to Bernadette Peters or Patti Lupone (“Was Mandy Patakin involved in this?” Jesse teases) (WELL, WAS HE?!?!?). As they search through her fathers’ files about her birth, Jesse slips in a fake tape for Rachel to find and think is from her mom. Uh oh, Kurt is going to have to give up his crown of human hands; we have a new psycho in town!

Filled with the bruised ego of a man who is mocked incessantly by a cheerleading coach and whose wife once tricked him for months with a fake pregnancy belly, Schue encourage-challenges Bryan into trying out for a local production of Les Mis, for which they both plan to audition for the role of Jean Valjean with Aerosmith’s “Dream On.” Seems like maybe you would want to sing a song from the show, but then again, I am not the community musical theater guru you might take me to be. Due to time constraints (“I need to spend more time with my pies!”), the director has them sing what turns out to be an awesome duet, and they leap exuberantly around the unfinished set like vest-wearing gazelles. And, look guys, just because their “Dream On” duet made me want to see NPH and Schue kiss each other, locked in a sweaty embrace with bomber jackets and v-necks in a pile on the floor as their fingers run through acres of overly poofy light brown hair, that doesn’t mean either of them is gay in the show. It just means both of them are gay in my mind. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

We rejoin Artie and Tina at the mall, where she has to separate from him to run upstairs for a pretzel, because apparently this is one of those old historical malls that don’t have an elevator. Can we be real for a second? If there was a mall in America where people had to climb actual steps to get to an Auntie Anne’s, the protest would be bigger than the entire Tea Party movement. Anyway, before she can climb the rock wall between them and the pretzel stand, Artie stops her and reveals that due to multiple “treatments” that he started “yesterday” he was now miraculously able to walk. Ho boy. For a few seconds I actually thought they were going to do this, and just cure him of his paraplegia in order to facilitate a dance number. I mean, it would have been the only logical reason to cure him of it, but still, continuity. Unfortunately we soon realize that we are inside Artie’s day dream, but not before he rocks a be-sweater-vested “Safety Dance,” joined by the mall-going crowd on what appears to be Most Attractive People Ever to Be in a Mall At One Time and Also Somebody’s Aunt Day (aunts get a free pretzel if they make it to the top of the Agro Crag!).

Sue chews out Bryan for changing his mind about budget cuts to New Directions, and they have a delicious snappy back-and-forth about the merits of the arts vs. sports programs. “Have you ever heard the term ‘anger sex’?,” NPH growls. “The only kind I know,” Sue shoots back, and off they go to get their hate-fuck on in Sue’s secret Letterman sex room. YES, GLEE-ASE! Not sated by what I assume was incredibly angular love-making, Sue grabs her chance to kill two dreams with one stone, ferreting out the information that Schue has landed the role of Jean Valjean over Bryan, causing NPH to fly into hysterics and take back the three glee essentials he had purchased the New Directions just moments before: Broadway sheet-music, bedazzled jean jackets and tear-away dance wear. Later when Schue finds him nursing his wounds, I loved the touch of NPH reading his one line in the play (“Hurray!”) in the voice of definitive Broadway Jean Valjean actor Colm Wilkinson. Flaw to the less. Being the doormat he is, Schue gives up the plum role to Bryan in order to guarantee that there will be no cut-backs to the club’s budget. That’s how casting works, right? If an actor doesn’t like a part, he or she can just bequeath it to whoever is standing near-by, which is actually how Rob Schneider got his entire career.

I am so HUMILIATED that I didn’t realize that Idina Menzel’s rival glee coach Shelby Corcoran was Rachel’s Mom! DUH TO THE NO SHITH DEGREE. Ugh. I feel like such a maroon for not putting that together sooner, especially considering Rachel looks like Idina Menzel time-traveled back to her adolescence and kidnapped her high school self to play her own daughter (that is going to be the season finale reveal; I’m calling it!). So it turns out that Shelby’s plot to get Jesse close to Rachel was not a terrifying, invasive means to sabotaging New Directions; it was a terrifying, invasive way to get close enough to let Rachel discover who her mom was! Or it is BOOOOOTH? I hope it’s both. My only question is, so where are those two dads?

See, this the problem with having a family headed by two gay men; statistics prove that eventually there will be a family where both parents are traveling salesmen. What a lonely life! Sitting there, night after night in cheap motels with your sample case of scrub brushes or quality knives, holding a thumb-worn picture of a husband and neurotic offspring you can barely remember. My god, what year in school is she now? Already? It is all slipping by you so fast. So fast. Rachel presses play on the planted tape, and she and Idina duet to “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Mis, and let me just say, it was Fabulous and Devastating. Fabulating. Devestabulous. However much I think the character of Rachel is often limited to that of a glassy-eyed songbot, she and Idina kill it here, without a doubt. Their version makes Susan Boyle look like a pile of puke (Ahhh…you know what, you’re right; I’m going to put that one down and walk away from it).

AND INTRODUCING MIKE CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG! Trumpet Fanfare, Mike Chang! SQUEEEE! I literally shrieked with glee…with joy when Tina finally called his name as her new dance partner. Rejected by a momentarily defeated Artie, Tina finally bequeathed Hot Asian Dude with a name, after which he immediately stepped forward to deliver this season’s best line-FADE TO BLACK. FADE IT. TO BLACK. JUST CUT TO SOMEONE ELSE. We let him have a name; let’s not get all crazy and start giving him lines, for god’s sake! Mike and Tina do a charming dance as Artie and the gang sang “Dream a Little Dream,” a number seemingly more about the life Artie wished he had than the life he could have with Tina in reality. Sad! Touching without being maudlin! Marry me, Artie!

Overall an adorable and well-done episode that is definitely one of my favorites, even if that is based largely on my love for Neil-io. Yay! I feel like this ship is finally steering away from the iceberg and headed toward the continent of Funlandia. I’d also like to end this review by mentioning that Tuesday was my birthday, so I in essence spent it with you, watching Glee and then drinking enough Dunkin’ Donuts coffee to give me heart palpitations so that at 4:00am I can figure out a synonym for the verb “squee” (the correct answer is: squirtle). Thanks again for spending time with me and Glee on this never ending road to Calvary. And next week? Well, I already wrote the review, and it is three words long: LADY GAGA EPISODE. But according to the preview they also do a KISS number? Please, please, I BEG of you, Glee, do not waste precious Lady Gaga time with that business. Not that I wouldn’t also love a Kiss song at some point, but seriously, if my eyes aren’t bombarded every second of that hour with the sight of Brittany with silver lobsters on her face, my soul might die. I also heard that Idina and Rachel will sing “Poker Face,” which already has me sputtering Moolatte across my computer screen in excitement. I did not live until today.

Halle Kiefer is another year younger.

This week is a ridiculously good one for new albums that you can acquire via legal means — LCD Soundsystem’s pain-suffused This Is Happening, Tracey Thorn’s brilliantly meditative Love And Its Opposite, and Janelle Monáe’s next-level debut The ArchAndroid all landed in stores yesterday. Last night, Monáe made her network-TV debut on Late Show With David Letterman with this raucous performance of her tightly wound new single Tightrope. Be sure to watch her amazing footwork at the 2:51 mark! (And don’t mind the cameo by “Sean” at the end.)

With speculation about Connecticut Attorney General Richard Blumenthal’s “misstatements” about his military record focusing on the question of whether he did it to make himself look better or whether he was just crazy enough to believe it, the more interesting part of the whole thing, to me, is the role of Republican Senate candidate Linda McMahon’s campaign (McMahon is in a primary race with former Rep. Rob Simmons) in giving the story to the New York Times, which broke it on Monday evening. As you will recall, the McMahon campaign reposted a story on her website giving her credit for feeding the information to the Times, then quickly withdrew it. How does the Times address her involvement in the whole thing?

Yesterday, a spokeswoman for the paper told Politico that “[A]nyone reading it can tell that it was the product of extensive independent reporting — including our FOIA of his military records,” which doesn’t exactly resolve the situation. But what about today? In its only mention of McMahon in its Blumenthal follow-up story, the paper today notes:

The Republican Party’s state convention is also on Friday, and Mr. Simmons is in a fight for delegates with Linda McMahon, the professional wrestling impresario, who has said she will spend as much as $50 million to win the seat.

Ms. McMahon’s campaign sought to claim credit for aspects of The Times’s article, apparently in a bid to impress Republican delegates that her resources would give her the greatest chance of defeating Mr. Blumenthal, who had seemed invincible.

Okay, that clears things up!

The grease purveyors at KFC have sold nearly 10 million bread-free Double Downs since the conglomeration of bacon, chicken, and special sauces made its debut a mere five weeks ago. The “promotional sandwich” was supposed to be removed from the chain’s menus on May 23, but executives — clearly realizing that the only innovation that can get as much ink as the Double Down is a potentially horrifying one involving a blended drink that’s named after a pun on the old percussion term “chicken shake” — have decided to keep them around at least through the end of the summer.

For those few who actually care (and I suggest that you should, if you want to progress in understanding the current American mania about Evil Wall Street!), here is Goldman Sachs’ brutal response to today’s rather wacko Times article. Setting aside the whole part where Goldman rather wildly describes the story as full of “grave inaccuracies” and as being “fundamentally misleading,” there’s at least one really great point made.

[QUESTION FROM THE TIMES}: At the Congressional hearings in April, documents were produced showing that Goldman’s mortgage department put on short equity positions in securities of four big clients in the mortgage arena: Bear Stearns, National City, Washington Mutual, Countrywide Financial. Were these clients aware at the time that you were betting against their stocks? Because of Goldman’s dealings with these companies in the mortgage area, was Goldman using nonpublic information (the ‘mosaic’) about these companies’ weaknesses when the firm put on these negative trades? Does Goldman have internal guidelines about when the firm can and cannot take short positions in a client’s stock? How does shorting a client’s stock or buying puts on it comport with Goldman’s goal of putting clients’ interests ahead of the firm’s?

[GOLDMAN ANSWER}: One of the important functions we perform is to allow clients to increase or reduce various types of risk and we need to stand ready to allow them to accomplish that objective. Another very important obligation for any financial institution is to ensure its safety and soundness. To that end, it is essential that we appropriately manage our risks. It is only by doing this that we can continue to provide liquidity to a market place. Clients understand this. What is important is that we have the policies and procedures in place to ensure that we are conducting ourselves in an appropriate manner. Our goal is to always be best in class in this regard.

Shorting stock or buying credit protection in order to manage exposures are typical tools to help a firm reduce its risk. [Bolding original; indicates the remark was quoted in the Times story.] The intent is not to disadvantage anyone. In this regard, it is important to note that many institutions have long exposure to Goldman Sachs and it would be entirely consistent with prudent risk management practice if they bought credit protection or had a short position on our stock.

This is particularly hilarious, and is actually a good point! Clients, investors and institutions that are heavily into Goldman should also have themselves arranged (or you know, should “bet against,” in Times parlance) so as to deal with the risk of being exposed to Goldman-a firm that did, let’s remember, get hosed to the tune of $1.2 billion in the mortgage market in 2007–2008. And that is what financial institutions do! They attempt to manage risk so as to more likely make a profit!

Notion Of “Haute Stoner Cuisine” Brings Back Unappetizing Memories

“The Rusty Knot is the most stoner of all my places. It’s kind of like the basement we all had when we grew up where we first smoked pot.”
–Manhattan restaurateur Ken Friedman describes his black-light-poster decorated west side spot in a way that does not make me want to eat there. I remember that basement. The pot was kept balled up in an old sock behind a radiator. There was a mother cat with a litter of new kittens in a box in the corner. And the featured entree was cold Beefaroni scooped straight out the can with green plastic army men figures. (Oh, hey: internet research shows that, first of all, “Beefaroni” is spelled without hyphens, but also that Chef Boyardee now has a product line called “Forkables.” This is a hilarious word in its own right. But it makes me wonder whether marketing execs are missing an opportunity in not creating an “army-menables” version.)

Fifth Avenue and 22nd Street, New York city. Photo by Mark Armstrong.