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"A rollicking ride of intellectual discovery and emotional growth... unlike his buzzer skills, his comic timing never fails"
-- The Wall Street Journal
"Pulls you in like a good sports story"
-- The New York Times Book Review
"Endearingly frank... jubilant... lighthearted and fast-paced"
-- New York Newsday
"A surprisingly touching memoir"
-- Entertainment Weekly
"Hugely funny"
-- Mental Floss
"Like Jeopardy! itself, it covers a lot of ground and in snappy and informative fashion"
-- Associated Press
"Down to earth and entertaining, even for non- Jeopardy! fans"
-- The New York Daily News
"A very funny writer... the book works like gangbusters."
-- Ken Jennings, 74-time Jeopardy! winner, holder of numerous other Jeopardy! records
"Effortlessly funny and informative... tender, human, and very wise... A must for anyone who loves Jeopardy!, or has ever seen it, or is breathing."
-- Joss Whedon, creator, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
"I haven't seen Jeopardy! since I was a kid, and yet I was charmed and amused by Bob Harris's fascinating and surprisingly suspenseful book. Through sheer force of personality, he takes this brainy TV show and makes it funny and easy to relate to."
-- Ira Glass, creator and host, This American Life
"Eccentric, energetic, and engaging"
-- Publishers Weekly
"The perfect gift for any Jeopardy! fan... I was thoroughly entertained"
-- USA Today, "Pop Candy"
"Surprisingly compelling... a funny and in-depth look at what it takes to win"
-- Long Island Press
"Wise, honest, and very funny... I wish I'd written it. Then again, I wish I'd won $127,000 and his-and-hers Camaros on Jeopardy!, too."
-- Jeff Greenstein, writer/producer, Desperate Housewives, Will & Grace, Friends
"Cleverly executed... solid entertainment"
-- Kirkus Reviews
"Answer: A hilarious, engaging and highly entertaining book. Question: What is Prisoner of Trebekistan? (All right... that was sort of a lame Jeopardy! joke. But what can I say? It's a great book.)"
-- Paul Feig, creator of Freaks and Geeks, author of Superstud and Kick Me
"A surprisingly intimate, entertaining book."
-- Orson Scott Card, author of Ender's Game
" Prisoner of Trebekistan is funny, enlightening -- and just might help you win a million bucks on Jeopardy!"
-- A. J. Jacobs, author of The Know-It-All
"If you don't buy this book -- this funny, learned, charming, and surprisingly moving book -- I will make it burst into flames in your hands."
-- Arthur Phillips, author of Prague and The Egyptologist
"A keeper for anyone who's even remotely a fan of Jeopardy!"
-- TVSquad.com
"If you enjoy... self-aware, geeky good humor, this could actually be your favorite book of the year."
-- The Stranger
"Highly entertaining... laugh-out-loud, absurdist funny... hilarious"
-- Akron Beacon-Journal
"Hilarious... a true treat for all Jeopardy! fans."
-- Strand Bookstore
"Everything you'd hope for... surprisingly compelling... deftly woven together... this sweet, fascinating book is a great read."
-- Book-blog.com
"If super-intelligent space aliens invaded our planet and demanded to interview one member of our species to ascertain whether or not we human beings were logical, bright, kind, and entertaining enough to be allowed to continue, I would nominate, with all my powers of persuasion, Bob Harris."
-- Emo Philips, comedian
"A masterful job of describing the feel of Jeopardy! in the heat of battle... I knew that Bob was a great guy and a fantastic Jeopardy! player. Now I've found that he's also a wonderful writer. I think I'm starting to hate him."
-- Brad Rutter, top money-winner in Jeopardy! history
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“Revelatory... wryly funny about some very serious subjects... Harris's sly wit and infectious curiosity make understanding world chaos fascinating... witty, horrific, and necessary.”
— Boston Globe
“Only Bob could make a user’s guide to our increasingly hostile world this absorbing, this breezy, and—ultimately—this hopeful.”
— Ken Jennings, author of Brainiac: Adventures in the Curious, Competitive, Compulsive World of Trivia Buffs
"Brave... irreverent... charges into the thick of the globe's myriad simmering wars... hilariously relaxed."
— New York Observer
“Fascinating, enlightening, and surprisingly: NOT TOTALLY DEPRESSING. A gimlet-eyed look at the world we endure that’s also suitable for enjoying with a gimlet.”
— John Hodgman, author of The Areas of My Expertise
and correspondent for The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
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Main
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Travel
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Wednesday, 07 May 2008 |
If you've read about that Chaitén volcano that just went kablooey in Chile, it's one of hundreds down there. It's an amazing part of the world.
That's Villarica, a couple of hundred miles north of Chaitén, but it gives you some of the flavor. Of course, you have to be ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.
In the town of Pucón, they even have a Volcano Alert Signal on the town hall. You can tell the volcano is exploding when the little red light comes on.
Alternatively, you can also look for the 20-mile plume of ash darkening the sky. Which makes it easier to see the little red light.
The only picture I have of Chaitén is this one, taken on the ferry to the island of Chiloe, from which the view of Andean peaks stretches literally across the entire horizon. (There's no way a jpg on the Internet can do this vista justice, but here it is, anyway.)
I'm pretty sure Chaitén is one of the prominent white peaks closest to the camera on the left. If this picture were taken today, there would be a monster ash plume extending high above those clouds.
Very lucky that the explosion was in a relatively remote area. There are similar volcanoes near Santiago and Quito.
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Voting & Debates
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Tuesday, 06 May 2008 |
Clinton just celebrated a short-term victory -- precisely as everyone else is starting to see she can't possibly win.
Say, who does that remind us of?
I wrote here on the very day she announced -- while she was still the presumptive frontrunner and the best-financed candidate by a wide margin, months before it was clear who might rise up and win instead -- that her campaign would probably founder largely on liberal opposition to Iraq, and rightly so. I had no idea Obama would rise so soon and so strong, but the math on Hillary's White House prospects seemed clear before this all started. (Of course, if grade-school arithmetic were held in higher esteem, the nomination fight would have been recognized as basically over weeks ago.)
Bonus: thanks to her increasing desperation to win, Clinton's record now includes Tuzla, threatening Iran with genocide, bold lies about NAFTA, and dozens of other future campaign ads for the opposition. All while she has alienated much of the activist base of her own party in the process.
Clinton not only can't win this trip to the White House -- now she probably can't win one, ever.
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Media
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Tuesday, 06 May 2008 |
Suddenly, the big touch-screen electoral map of the US goes kaplooey, for no discernible reason.
You go to live election coverage with the technology you have.
Full disclosure: I'm an Apple shareholder. Not hard to see why, though. |
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Travel
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Friday, 02 May 2008 |
The only snack that really seems appropriate.
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Pudu
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Friday, 02 May 2008 |
Horniest little pudu you may ever see. And smiling about it, too.
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Travel
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Wednesday, 30 April 2008 |
I'm no expert, so I may be misreading things, but this image from Santiago seems to sum up the competition between expanding social welfare and international investment, not just in Chile, but in much of the developing world:
That's Salvador Allende, the elected Marxist overthrown in 1973 after years of actions against his government by the CIA and several U.S. multinationals (ITT, Anaconda Copper, etc.).
Allende's memorial is right outside the presidential palace -- and right in front of Citibank.
Perhaps not quite what he had in mind. |
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Travel
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Wednesday, 30 April 2008 |
Also on the side of the road north to Santiago: possibly the strangest billboard ad I have ever seen.
I should begin by noting that IANSA is a Spanish acronym for "National Sugar Industry," although it was privatized toward the end of the Pinochet years.
 There is nothing sweeter.
That's probably true -- because Mom here is serving her daughter an entire bowl of pure white sugar.
While sitting on the kitchen floor, no less. No chairs in sight. Hey, I know what's sweeter -- buying some damn furniture, so your poor kid doesn't develop diabetes and lose all feeling in her butt in a single meal.
Can somebody please call Child Protective Services? No one even looks surprised. This is just how they roll. I mean, look closely -- does that kid even have any teeth? Mom does -- grinning like it's a pepper filet broiled with minced scallions and stone crab claws in lemon butter, and not weapons-grade glucose in a kitty dish.
Um, Mom? Can you get this kid, I dunno, a piece of raw beef, just for balance?
The artist has done interesting things with the details, too. That box has shadows and floor reflections as if it's actually in the photograph. Which means Mom keeps a box of sugar in the house almost as large as her own child.
The weirdest thought, to me: that this image, which actually gets more psychotic the longer you look at it, actually sells sugar. Successfully. Not, say, an urgent national commitment to children's nutrition, mental health advocacy, dental hygiene, and, I dunno, gift certificates to IKEA.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm making breakfast, and I need to get another oil drum of syrup to go with my pallet of Bisquick. And where did I leave my casket of jam...? |
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Travel
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Tuesday, 29 April 2008 |
Unbeatable Cydectin -- against the most resistant parasites.
I only pray the picture means that Cydectin is for parasites that attack cows -- not parasites the size of cows, wearing special protective headgear and gloves.
Because those would be some pretty damn resistant parasites.
Been meaning to post a ton of fun pics from South America. Will try to trickle them up here regularly, maybe one a day or so for a while, now that I have a minute. Regular visitors, thank you for your patience. |
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Pudu
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Friday, 25 April 2008 |
Long time since I've pudublogged. Pudublog backlog. I must catalog. Meanwhile, camouflag:
Sometimes it's hard to see the pudu for the forest.
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Maverick, Schmaverick
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Friday, 25 April 2008 |
John McCain's visit to New Orleans, in the style of VH-1's old "Pop-Up Videos":
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Stuff I like
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Friday, 04 April 2008 |
 UPDATE: I wrote the below before I was sure how public my friend and his family were with his sudden, bizarre case of cancer; I've previously been close to people who didn't want similar stuff to be public, since previous illness can wrongly affect their ability to get future work.
But my friend Mike Irwin is perfectly happy with everyone knowing his family could use your help. You may recognize him from frequent TV appearances during the cable comedy boom of the early 1990s. Whether it was Evening at the Improv, Carolines Comedy Hour, MTV's Half-Hour Comedy Hour, and so on -- Mike did them all. Now it's later in the story, and his family could use all the help, love, and support they can get. Fortunately, not only are comedians already starting to line up to do benefits, there's also the Mike Irwin Cancer Fund if you'd personally like to chip in with a donation right now.
Incidentally, Mike never smoked a cigarette in his life, nor is there any other obvious cause to point to. This could happen to you or me just as easily. Just, bang, cancer, stage four, and good luck.
But I just came back from a few days with Mike in the hospital in upstate New York, and he has some serious crap to deal with -- stage four bone cancer is even harder than some of the stand-up one-nighters we went through together back in the day -- but if there's anybody I'd be willing to put money on right now, it's Mike.
My love to him, his wife Esther, and their large menagerie of offspring.
A personal thing.
I got some hard news last week. A guy I've known for 22 years -- half my life -- somebody I started out with in comedy, a guy who was my best friend for a while and whom I remained close to for a number of years... has cancer.
Last night comes the news that it's pretty advanced.
Won't mention the name here, but he's a dear friend, just a little older than I am. Good marriage, three boys, great attitude toward life, the sort of fellow who takes responsibility for his own mistakes and faces adversity with a shrug and a smile and a can-do attitude. I've seen him plow through some serious crap in this life. And now this.
Right this minute, he's in a hospital somewhere going through seventeen kinds of emotional and physical hell trying to plow through this latest -- and if anyone on earth can, he can, I assure you (and myself) -- and his wife is either right there next to him or home trying to get a few shreds of sleep before going back to on hope patrol. I've been through that vigil with loved ones myself a few times, sometimes with good outcomes, sometimes not. What her husband, my old friend, is going through, I can only try to imagine.
And here's the thing: I'm ashamed to realize that as much as I care for and admire this guy, we've been in gradually diminishing contact, geez, ever since I moved out of New York fifteen years ago. Adulthood and jobs sneak up, we move around, relationships change, and old friends sometimes phase nearly out of our lives unintentionally before we even realize it.
Now suddenly I'm here, and he's there. Somebody hit the fast-forward button when nobody was looking.
But we were young together.
The things that stick in mind are things that mattered for no damn reason I can think of, other than the sheer daily fact of friendship. There was this barbecue on his porch on a clear spring night on the south side of Chicago, him and his first wife and a bunch of other young hopeful comedy people, back when I couldn't afford my own place yet and they let me sleep under their stairs on the second floor. It wasn't much -- hell, it was barely anything -- but thanks to them, it was home for a while. Or doing stand-up comedy together, early in our careers, in this giant barn-like building in a small farm town in western Ohio, with picnic tables for the seats and a lone spotlight that was as blinding as the sun. In New York, finding a bowling alley in Brooklyn that had ancient lacquered lanes so we could spin the ball from gutter to gutter, often whether we wanted to or not. Working on our acts in the back of a Howard Johnson's hotel in St. Petersburg Beach, wondering where the odd life we'd chosen would eventually take us.
Strangely, as much as I find myself feeling fear, worry, and all those things for my friend right now -- what I also feel, maybe more than anything is... gratitude.
I hope he knows how much I love him. Even if I've been out of touch.
I told his wife that if they need me to pack up and go live under the stairs again, I'll go.
And when he makes it through this, I am so gonna drag his butt back to that bowling alley in Brooklyn.
Meanwhile, my point for you, whoever you are, and whenever you may visit:
If you're reading this, and you have a few old friends you've lost touch with, maybe you want to find a minute and say hey.
Call them. For no damn reason. Be young with them, as young as you are right now while you're thinking of them.
And be grateful. |
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High Weirdness
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Saturday, 19 April 2008 |
Among the many reasons this blog has slowed to a crawl of late is the intrusion of a bunch of fun projects all at once, the sort of stuff I'd never have imagined I'd even try.
 One of them, El Pantera, is a Mexican action/drama series whose first season has recently begun airing in the United States on Univision every Sunday night at 8.
I've been in Mexico City a lot recently, acting as sort of a creative story consultant as they enter the second season. Not sure when the second season episodes will air in the U.S., but for those of you who hablan the español, you might still enjoy a peek in the meantime.
I had nothing to do with the current episodes, mind you; what you'll see for the moment is simply the deep end of the pool I dove into. Y no podía hablar español mucho mejor que usted, lo prometo. So this was fascinating and challenging and fun beyond words. In either language.
Obviously, it's a completely different kind of storytelling than anything I've ever tried. El Pantera is a major departure in many ways from the telenovela format which has dominated Mexican airwaves ever since they first got airwaves, but it's still steeped in various cultural traditions and expectations that I'm only now starting to appreciate. I was brought in to help the producers push the show further toward North American norms, but I'd give you pesos to panes dulces that they did most of the teaching.
I'll probably mention this again as a heads-up when the second season starts airing here, whether that's in a couple of months or sometime next year.
I'll miss it, to be honest. The folks there were as fun to work with as anybody in my whole career.
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Sport
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Tuesday, 01 April 2008 |
Here's the local newspaper's idea of a fun flash-animated baseball game:
No, this isn't an April Fool's joke.
Use the arrow keys on your keyboard or the buttons on the game to move the tarp out as low clouds bring snow, and back in again as the snow goes away.
Don't let the field get too wet or the ump will call the game. But don't leave the tarp out too long or there won't be enough time to finish!
This is really what April is like for Cleveland baseball fans.
I wish they'd win the World Series one of these years. The fans deserve it. They really do.
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