What’s the best reason to have a fake reporter shilling at White House press conferences?
Fake crises, fake news — why not fake reporters?
845   72.9%
Totalitarianism is the sort of thing you want to taste first before you dig right in
187   16.1%
Only thing keeping Scottie McClellan from breaking down and recanting all
74   6.4%
All the kissing up from regular reporters kinda pales by comparison
53   4.6%

Ah, yes, but there’s a joyful new bit of lunacy on the wires — personal vehicles twice the size of Hummers.

And there’s a new poll at top left.

Actual entries from the NYT Almanac’s "Chronology of U.S. History" (not online that I can find, unfortunately; you’ll have to take my word for it), with verbatim quotes next to the year:

1636     New Englanders massacre hundreds of Indians in Pequot War.  Harvard College established.

1656     First Quakers arrive in America; imprisoned in Boston, beaten, and deported.

1842     U.S. accidentally seizes California, then returns it with apology to Mexico.

Some unknown NYT editor is either utterly oblivious… or (I prefer to think) has a deliciously bleak sense of humor.

No, not politics, not on the weekend…

Spent much of the weekend at the L.A. stop of the IRB Sevens rugby tour, which may become my favorite sporting event of the year.

Imagine world-class athletes from 16 countries running their brightly-clad kiesters off — and fans hailing from every one of them, all gathered in one place for a solid weekend of overeating, flag-waving (not necessarily your own — whomever you’re rooting for at the moment will do), and good-natured screaming unto hoarseness.

This time around, a bunch of Aussies were the best to drink with (gee, there’s a surprise), the Argentinians were the most organized singers, and (as always) the Kenyans had the most interesting cheer — a kind of accelerating, over-the-head, back-and-forth arm wave deal that rapidly devolves into a bunch of kathwaping and giggling.

The level of high-density good-sportsmanship among the fans is something I’ve only encountered at the Olympics, and even it’s not quite the same — people just aren’t crammed together the same way, drinking and screaming together in the same venue for a cult-building solid weekend of sport.

If you ever, ever have the chance to attend one of these — whether here in L.A. next year, or if you cross paths with the tour somewhere else in the world — go.