Bradzilla

Bradford Rutter is the biggest winner in the history of Jeopardy! and perhaps its greatest player, having amassed over $3.2 million at the tender age of 27, becoming the biggest quiz show winner in history.

Brad has won the 2001 Tournament of Champions, the 2002 Million-Dollar Masters, and the 2005 Ultimate Tournament of Champions, making him the only 3-tournament winner in Jeopardy history.  When he played Ken Jennings and Jerome Vered in the three-day finals of the Ultimate Tournament, he beat both Ken and Jerome three games in a row.

No one, in fact, has ever beaten Brad.  So, you ask me, he kinda deserves his own interview.

The following was recorded at a small Italian restaurant in Beverly Hills, walking distance from the lush Beverly Hilton, where Jeopardy! bunked him during two of his tournament wins.  I had only begun working on Trebekistan and had no real idea what the book would eventually look like.

Brad: So I can trust you with this, right?  I mean you’re not gonna give away any trade secrets here.

Me: Of course not.  And if something slips, and you don’t want it in, that’s fine.  I’ll be the only one who knows.  That could work to my advantage if we ever play each other.

Brad: So if I say something like [something completely unrepeatable] —

Me: [laughing] I can promise that won’t be in the book.

Brad: Cool.  Y’know, when I heard you were writing this, I thought, "this is the perfect guy."

Me: I see.  So the tape goes on, and the flattery begins.  You’ll go far in Los Angeles, my son.  

Brad: You’re very kind.

Me: First question: that Ultimate Tournament final had to be a blast.  And with the closed set, it must have been a uniquely shared experience.  You stay in touch with your victims?

Brad: Sure.  Ken and I email back and forth, and I gave Jerome a call now that I’m in town.  But you know as well as anybody about how people stay in touch.  It’s like almost the whole Masters group.  It’s fun for us all to get together on the east coast for the regional dinners when I’m out there.  India puts those together, those are fun.  

Me: Speaking of Ken, we’ve emailed a few times.  He seems like a pretty cool guy.  Totally has his head on straight for somebody who pulled off what he did.

Brad: No question.  Although I don’t know how he does that artistic stuff with the light pen.

Me: What’s up with that?  Who wakes up thinking, "today I’ll try out 24-point Helvetica?"

Brad: That’s almost amazing as winning 70-odd games.

Me: Me, I just try to write "Bob," and it looks like I have some kind of disorder.

Brad: Well, that’ll teach me to assume.  [Grins.]

Me: So.  [Pausing, finally catching the wicked glee in Brad

Just Over 20 Questions With Just Under 20 Champions


Since Prisoner
of Trebekistan

introduces a number of other players as eventual friends, I thought you might
enjoy knowing some of them a little better. So I sent out a little game of Twenty Questions to a few of the champs I’m
particularly fond of. (By the way, there
are a few names here you might not recognize from the book; they’re all big
winners on the show, too.)

The following are some representative responses.  I was
surprised by how often our stories are all very similar.  My thanks to
all involved for sharing their experiences, and for allowing me to
share their memories with you.

1. When did you first become a fan of the show, and when did you decide to try out?

Josh Den Hartog: My earliest Jeopardy memory is cheering fanatically
for Eric Newhouse.  See, he was from Iowa, and we were from Iowa, and
it felt good to have one of our own kick the rest of the country’s butt.

Eric Newhouse: I first became interested right around the time Chuck
Forrest came on and dominated the show like no one had before him.

Mike Rooney: When I got back from grad school and was unemployed in
L.A., I had time to sit in front of the TV.  And that’s when I first
saw Dan Melia smile that jolly smile — you know, the one that says
"look, I’m kicking ass and having fun while simultaneously
demonstrating my intellectual superiority."  So I decided to try out
shortly thereafter.

Dan Melia: As things will happen with child/spousal support and the
like, I was seriously upside-down financially for several years and
flirting with bankruptcy as a serious option.  Dara & [son] Daniel
(who was then 11) had urged me to try to get on the show, so I decided
to go down to LA and give it a shot.  When I announced that I was going
to do this, Dara said (with some irony) "So, your plan to get out of
debt is to go on a TV show and win a lot of money?"  I replied, "You
have a problem with that?"

Leslie Shannon: It got to be a family ritual that we would actually
watch Jeopardy! while eating, and eventually our dinners got to
starting right at 7:30 when the show did.

Fred Ramen: In college, people were telling me I should go on the show, but I never thought I was good enough.

Rachael Schwartz: I used to watch the old show with Art Fleming when I
was in grade school.  I would go home for lunch and watch it with my
grandmother.  Amazingly enough, as a six-year-old, I rarely knew any of
the answers.

Leslie Frates: I started watching the show in 1964, during the Art
Fleming days, when I was almost 10.  I even have a 1st edition Milton
Bradley home version of the Jeopardy game that Santa left under the
tree for me at Christmas 1964.  My parents were very accommodating of
their complete nerd daughter.

Eugene Finerman: At age 11, I found myself immersed in questions that
allowed me to test my wits against my vanity.  The onslaught of puberty
did not dilute my devotion; I was perfectly capable of thinking about
both naked cheerleaders and the Punic Wars.

Jerome Vered: I was doing a senior project at USC’s film school,
staying up and piddling around the editing rooms at all hours.  Another
student project was a documentary on the first Tournament of
Champions.  So I’m walking to my editing room and hearing clues being
given by Alex and I’m calling out the answers… The director sticks
his head out of the room and asks me if I’ve seen or heard the footage
before.  No, say I.  Then he says, "You really should try out for this
show. You’d do great."

2. How do you handle pre-show
jitters?  Any green room tendencies you’ve developed?  Chatting
with/avoiding other players?  Thinking/not thinking about the game?
 

Fred Ramen: The first time I was on I was nervous as hell. I got maybe
three or four hours of sleep the night before — pure nerves — and
wired myself up on caffeine in the green room… After the practice
game I was of course raring to go. However, Dan Melia was the returning
champ… then they called out the players for his fifth game. Not me.
Good.

Grace Veach: It’s good that the staff keep us busy with contracts and
stuff to do, or I’d probably be much more jittery.  That was the worst
thing about the day we shared with Wes in the green room — it lasted
forever!  I felt a real bond with you by the time that we’d shared that
whole day, and Wes was incredibly classy as well.

Kate Waits: For the Masters, I brought my crochet.  (I make blankets
for our local battered women’s shelter.)  I didn’t feel all that
nervous, but I kept messing up the pattern.

Leslie Frates: On my first appearance I was a nervous wreck.  When I
walked out onto the stage and saw the lights come on and Alex walk out,
my knees and hands were shaking, and my hands were so clammy they felt
like they were coated with oil from a tuna can.   After the first
break, when Alex interviews the contestants, I felt much more relaxed,
and all the nervousness just oozed out of my fingers, just like when
Novocaine wears off.  Really.

Eugene Finerman: Jitters?  Paranoia.  While in the Green Room, you will
look at your fellow contestants and imagine which of them would
slaughter you.  After all, they are real champions while you, in your
innermost thoughts, know yourself to be only a lucky charlatan.

Jerome Vered: I tend to be chatty.  Not as big a class clown as some,
but I guess I’m more effusive than many.  And bringing candy breaks the
ice.

Ben Tritle: I don’t handle pre-show jitters very well… I encountered
a horrid case of flop sweat and nearly went on stage with an
embarrassing wardrobe malfunction.

Leslie Shannon: For my first five shows, I was so terrified that I was
almost trembling with adrenaline.  But once each game started, I was
able to focus absolutely on the questions… However, for my ToC
return, I was much calmer.  In fact, too calm.  I was very aware of the
supporting role that my adrenaline rush had played in my five wins, and
I started getting worried that I wasn’t freaking out at all.  So in the
Green Room, I tried to make myself nervous.

John Den Hartog: The best advice I have for others on pre-show routine
is: don’t drink ANYTHING that day, or you will have to pee about a
BILLION times.  I learned this the hard way.  Luckily, I was able to
survive it and have been fine ever since. 

Eric Newhouse: Watch out for the coffee in the green room.  The very first time I taped I’d probably downed about half the urn.

Mike Rooney: Frequent bathroom visits.  And Power Bars.

3. How were you lucky?

Fred Ramen: in my first game, I got left off the hook by the first place contestant, and ended up a co-champ.

Leslie Shannon: In one of my tournament games, the clue was something
along the lines of: "He became governor of Louisiana in 1704 after
being the first mayor of Detroit."  Miraculously, I had just read about
this very thing while preparing for the Tournament, and so I actually
knew that the response was "Who was Cadillac?"   Otherwise I would have
had no idea.

Grace Veach: I had an important clue about Gen. George McClellan
running for president against Lincoln.  I had just been reading about
elections and thought it was unusual he would run against the man who
had promoted him.

Josh Den Hartog: I had $3500 riding on a Daily Double once.  And then
it asks some question about a gland that causes some particular
disease.  I have never heard of said disease.  Time starts to run
out… I panic, and start to say in my head, over and over…"Think of
a gland, think of a gland…"  Finally, I just spit out "What is the
thyroid?"  It was right.  Without that money, I lose the tourney going
away.  I’ve been fond of the thyroid ever since.

4. What’s your one big question that got away?

Arthur Phillips: Oh, dear God, the Oranjestad Incident.  We shall not
speak of it further.  Everlasting shame.  I can barely say the name
William of Orange without feeling nauseous.

Fred Ramen: I totally whiffed on a Sylvia Plath question despite having
had three consecutive lectures on her the previous semsester at NYU. 
Also, not being able to get in on the Quotable Coolidge categories that
I could have crushed.

Leslie Frates: In the Masters, in a Final Jeopardy to reach the finals,
they wanted President Kennedy’s Pulitzer Prize-winning book.  I knew it
instantly (Profiles in Courage), and it was the easiest FJ I ever got
in any game I played.   But I had bet puny, and lost.

Leslie Shannon: Bob Verini beat me to a question about the composer of
"Finlandia" (Sibelius, of course) in the Masters Tournament that had me
fuming — I work for Nokia, a Finnish company, and knew that my
colleagues would never forgive me!  However, later in the same game, I
got a question about the SATs, which Bob V. wished he had gotten, since
he used to work for the SAT board.

Jerome Vered: I was playing against Frank Spangenberg and Pam
Mueller… up comes the category "Rossini Operas."  The last one was
about an opera involving the Venetian army.  I ring in immediately, and
then — too fast, too fast — blurt out "Daughter Of The Regiment." 
And I blanch immediately.  I know that was by Donizetti.  I know I’m
f’ed.  Out comes the correct response — "Otello."  I am so pissed.  I
own only one opera on audio cassette.  One.  That opera?  Rossini’s
"Otello."

Kim Worth: Elijah! But I must say; if you’re going to miss a clue, miss
one you could never answer. There’s none of that lying awake in bed
thinking, "I KNEW that!"  No, this was more like stepping off the curb
and getting hit by a cement truck. Fast, quick and painless.

Mike Rooney:  !@#$ing "Crete" Garfield.  And before that, I was bounced
from the 2000 ToC on another FJ, asking for the advisor of Odysseus’s
son, who was of course named Mentor.  I knew what they wanted there,
but drew a hugely frustrating blank.  A few weeks ago, I saw a
biography of James Garfield at the bookstore.  So I flip to the index
and the first reference to Lucretia "Crete" Garfield not only mentions
her nickname but also the fact that before being elected to the
Presidency, the Garfields made their home in… Mentor, Ohio.  And now
you, Bob, who are from Mentor, Ohio, are asking me this.  You bastard.

5. What question did you pull the furthest out of your nether regions?  And how did you get to the answer?

Arthur Phillips: I’ve never seen "The Last Picture Show" and did not
know it was the film that Cybill Shepherd debuted in, so how did I know
from a random video clip that that’s what the movie was?  When you’re
on, you’re on, and knowledge apparently is sent to you from the cosmos.

Leslie Frates: A "Before & After" question, something like "the
dueling vice-president who became the puppeteer who worked with Kukla,
Fran and Ollie."  I remembered once seeing a grainy photo of Kukla,
Fran and Ollie standing next to their creator, Burr Tillstrom.  It hit
me so fast that on the tape my body physically jerks before I ring in: 
"Who is Aaron Burr Tillstrom?".  I’m mighty proud of that one, mighty
proud.

Eugene Finerman: In my second game, I actually was trailing as we went
into Final Jeopardy.  The clue was

Prisoner of Trebekistan: the index

The following is the actual, complete index of Prisoner of Trebekistan.

Eventually, I’ll probably do a reading of some bits of this over some cool tiki lounge music or possibly a soaring heavy-metal power ballad.  I have no idea why.  It just sounds funny.

A Clockwork Orange, 137

Adams, Abigail, combustibility of, 174

Adrenaline, 22, 44, 120, 164, 188, 276, 316

Allen, Woody, 46

Anchoring, 121-22, 124

Asia Minor, 133, 281, 309-310

Baboons, wild, chased by, 196, 273, 276-77

Badgers, ravenous, 124, 128

Bailey, Alan, 291-92

Barker, Craig, 148

Bate, Jeremy, 244, 266, 267, 272

Batman, 35

Bauhaus, 183

Beals, Jennifer, 184

Bell, Alexander Graham, unaware of bed construction, 206, 311

Berkeley, University of California at, 5, 21, 107, 147, 178, 237, 239

Berman, Steve, 303, 321

Bhutan, 4, 240-241, 272, 284, 286, 328

Bioluminescence, 116, 141, 264

Boleyn, Anne, self-portraits of, 39-40

Bones, rearranged surgically, 73, 302, 322

Bonobo chimpanzees, best form of hello ever, 197

Book of Common Prayer, 201, 325

Boone, Daniel, 68

Boong, not buzz or ring, 20

Borchardt, Bruce, 303-04, 307-08, 313-15, 317-19, 321

Borg, the, 118, 162

Brain-freeze, 24

Burnett, Carol, 218

Butterworth, Mrs., 118, 198, 203, 273

Camaros, "his & hers," 127, 129, 132, 142, 197-98, 291

Cameron, Burns, 14

Carroll, Lewis, 67, 102-03, 311-12, 317-20

Carroll, Robin, 16, 236, 245, 264-65, 273, 288

Cement, connected to chickens, 59

Cher, 226

Chernicoff, Steve, 303-04, 320

Chickasaw Indians, link to Elvis Presley’s sex life, 96

Cholinesterase inhibitors, 62, 64

Chumash Indians, 215

Cleveland sports teams, futility of, 9, 173-74, 190-92, 228

Clue Crew, living in van and fighting crime, 16

Coconuts, lovely bunch of, 12, 17, 327

Codpiece, armored, 6

Cognitive dissonance, 83

Concordance of the Bible, 69, 103, 136, 201

Coppola, Francis Ford, 325

Cooper, India, 244, 266, 289, 303-04

Corpses, dancing in cheese, 183

Costner, Kevin, on his knees, 110

Cover Girl, in a blowhole, 25

Cubbage, Tom, 289, 292-301, 309

Cuthbertson, John, 320

Damnation, eternal, 68

Daunt, Michael, 6, 16, 289, 303-04, 307-08, 311-20, 322

Day, Doris, blown to bits, 103

Dead guy, body of, used to signal the cops, 20

Dead Man Walking, 39, 149

DeGeneres, Ellen, 108

Den Hartog, Josh, 148

Depp, Johnny, 184

de Vere, Edward, seventeenth Earl of Oxford, 16, 60, 102-103, 269-70, 300

Die Hard, 20

Dotto, 12

Douglas, Michael, 307

Dracula, 326

Drug lords, Colombian, 75

Dwarf, kickboxing, used to memorize U.N. Secretaries-General, 97

Ebola, 159

Ecuador, place to flee to, 39, 76

Eightfold Path to Enlightened Jeopardy, 25, 28, 29, 38-39, 48-49, 60, 84, 109, 113, 124-25, 145, 151, 155-56, 171, 185, 239, 246, 293-94, 298

Einstein, Albert, 50, 136

Ephesians, disappointing relationship with, 55

Epstein, Frank, 293-95, 297-300

Erythema nodosum, 185-86, 254

Ethic of reciprocity, 200

Ettinger, Bob, 246

Fairy penguins, 284-86, 295

Farrell, Will, 15

Fight Club, 80, 195

Fillmore, Millard goddam, 23, 24, 28-29, 95, 192, 235

Flanders, Ned, cuckolded, 34

Fleming, Art, 13, 14

Flowers For Algernon, basis for film Charly, 215

Forearm, correct amount of, 75, 275

Ford, Harrison, 278, 307

Forrest, Chuck 6, 73-74, 85-87, 99-100, 103, 110-111, 116, 118, 123, 207, 236-37, 244, 264-67, 272, 288, 291, 301, 328

"Forrest Bounce," 6, 73, 85, 87, 149, 187

Forster, E. M., 89, 92

Fosse, Bob, 233

Frates, Leslie, 244, 264-66, 273, 289, 291-92

Freeman, Morgan, voice of, 5, 327

Friedman, Harry, 247, 248, 327

Fuel, discharged from shuttlecraft, 20

Game Show Congress, 220-21, 290

Gandhi, Mohandis K., 136, 157, 200

Gangs, dancing, in New York, 122, 271

Garfield, James, 205-06, 310-11

Garland, Judy, 168, 327

Gilbert, J.H. Company of Willoughby, Ohio, 56, 60-61, 63, 66, 70, 71, 74, 209

Gilbert, Johnny, 7, 14, 31, 152, 198, 234, 250, 292

Gilligan’s Island, 70

Gillispie, Scott 303-04

Glucocorticoids, stress response, 120, 254, 270

Goatskin, bloodstained, 80, 290, 303

Gödel, Kurt, 135, 150

"Go Lights," 35, 40, 50, 157, 161, 179-82, 245, 268, 269, 272, 307-08, 314

Graham, Heather, 214

Grant’s Tomb, 309

Grape jelly, your brain becoming, 48

Greed, 218-19, 221

Griffin, Julann, 11-12, 17

Griffin, Merv, 11-14, 16-18, 155, 158, 317; owns one-third of earth’s crust, 17; reincarnated, 114; keeper of ancient wisdom 114, 327

Gropius, Walter, 183

Gutowski, Paul 148

Hagia Sophia, 281

HAL computer, 244

Hale, Kyle, 303

Halicarnassus (Bodrum), 309-10

Harvard University, 5, 50, 147

Hats, red, various, 69, 241, 285, 322

Havel, Vaclav, 283

Hellman, Dara, 239, 321-23, 324-27

Heston, Charlton, 308

Hiawatha, eight-ton, fifty-foot-tall statue of, 11-13, 17, 145

High Rollers, 72

Hindenburg, the, 39

Hoffa, Jimmy, 313

Hopkins, Anthony, 115, 141, 193, 269, 310

Houdini, Harry, 43, 169

Howards End, 90-92; re-imagined as thirty-foot buttocks, 91-93, 317; actual end of a real guy named Howard, 219-20

"Incunabula," meaningless syllables, 189

Internal Revenue Service, 180

Ironwood, Michigan, 11, 14, 18, 325

Isolation booths, 12

Jackson, Andrew, owed a beer, 308

Jaws of Life, 18

Jell-O shooters, 137

Jennings, Ken 6, 9, 16, 94, 287-89, 295, 304; not giving a spongebath, 94; as Japanese monster movie, 287; penmanship of, 287-88; possible explosion of, 288

Jesus, 200, 281, 295

Jeopardy Mansion, lush, 152

Jeopardy Weapon, 21, 48, 112, 202, 257, 268, 293-94, 315

Jiu-jitsu, 107

Johnson, Kim "Howard," 219-20, 285

Jones, Inigo, 183

Kagan, Glenn, 45, 109, 118, 119, 127, 128, 158, 176, 246, 327

Kampala, Uganda, confused with Kigali, Rwanda, 259

Kazakhstan, many sheep of, 48

Keisters, various sizes, 11, 133, 219

Keller, Helen, 136

Kennedy, George, lack of bad breath, 115

Kenobi, Obi-Wan, 245

Kent, Clark, 22, 47

Kevlar, use by public school teachers, 81

Khan al-Khalili, both the novel and the souq, 314

King World Productions, 14

Knesset, different from Althing, 139, 265

Knickers, rubber, 57

Knutsen, Rick, 303-04, 321

Kung Fu Grip, realistic 21

"Lake effect" snow, 11, 61

Lauderdale, John, 29, 250, 305

Library of Alexandria, 69

Lincoln, Abraham, 19, 23, 137, 178, 190, 192

Lint rollers, 88

Lohan, Lindsay, 214

Lord of the Flies, 70, 128

Loud, Grant, 45, 109, 119, 128, 158, 176, 246, 327

Lowenthal, Mark, 85, 301

Luminiferous ether, 135

Luxor casino, as trans-millennial Dada masterpiece, 245

Mackenzie, Bob and Doug, 182

Mahfouz, Naguib, 314

"Manamana" song, applied to linguistic morphology, 225

Mandela, Nelson 283

Mann, Matt 22-23, 30, 43, 47, 56, 105, 107, 115, 150

Market research, completely useless, 13, 14, 15

Matrix, The, 300, 314

McCullers, Carson 184

McGuire, Jimmy, 314

McKellen, Ian, 270, 300

Melia, Dan, 68, 147, 157, 160, 162, 176, 177-79, 181-85, 187-90, 193, 201-02, 206, 210, 212, 215-16, 234-35, 237, 239, 247, 248, 268, 273, 288, 290, 301, 303-04, 307, 319-20, 321-23, 324-27

Miami Vice, 75

Miller, Arthur, 136

Miller, Chris, 320

Monkeywrenchfish, 189

Moo, 159

Mosquitoes, size of lawn darts, 18; bird-eating, 61; fighting with bare hands, 62; unlike any I remembered, 208

Mouse deer, 277

Mueller, Pam, 320

Muppets, The, 225

Neutron, Jimmy, 56

Newhouse, Eric, 244, 264-65, 267-72, 288, 289, 303, 307, 321

Norwegians, cruel, 83

Nugent, Ted, 186

"One-to-ones," 238, 299, 314

Oooh, the, 114, 152-53, 155, 156, 157, 193, 212, 217, 319

One-True-Eternal-Soulmates

The FAQ

Let’s all save ourselves some time. Organized and hotlinked by subject:

 

Are you the Bob Harris who (choose at least one)…?

(a) makes delicious buttery spreads

(b) posts JFK conspiracy theories on YouTube and Internet forums

(c) hosts a BBC radio show

(d) was played by Bill Murray in Lost In Translation

(e) played bass for Frank Zappa

(f) runs the Decorative Concrete Institute

(g) sought a Colombian wife in Renault car commercials

(h) ministers to the spiritual needs of rodeo clowns

(i) wrote Fatherland

(j) is an expert on mushrooms and flying kites

(k) pitched for the St. Louis Browns in 1939

(l) died skydiving while filming a Mountain Dew ad

(m) does play-by-play for the Duke Blue Devils

(n) etc., etc., etc.

 

Sadly, I have neither Colombian brides nor buttery spreads.

Despite what one may read in news stories written by people too dim to guess that "Bob Harris" is a common name and too lazy to work the Google, the correct answer is (z), none of the above.

We realize that you choose from a variety of Bob Harrises in your surfing day. Thank you for your patronage.

Do you read all of your email?

Eh. Not so much, I’m afraid. I tried to read everything for many years, but it’s just not practical anymore. So names I recognize get first dibs, and beyond that, it’s hit or miss. One in three, maybe. Sometimes none for weeks. Sorry.

Unfortunately, I’ve found that names I don’t recognize are often either spam, long-lost “relatives” asking for money, etc. Delete, delete, delete. If that sounds harsh, well, imagine what emails you might get after you've won a few hundred grand on national TV, written for a top-rated TV series built entirely around morbid crimes, or released a book trying to summarize all the world's major conflicts in impossibly (even foolishly) short essays. My inbox is a real festival sometimes, lemme tell you.

Plus, I’ve also gotten a bit mercenary about blocking addresses. Ways to get me to ignore your email for good:

  • Spam, obviously (I’m looking at you, virgilio.it!)
  • Adding me to your mailing list without asking, no matter how much you’re sure I’ll adore your pet cause
  • Repeated emails of the same content (why do people do this?)
  • Unexpected large inbox-hogging attachments (bigger than a couple of Mb, say)
  • Misguided if frequently amusing rage at a total stranger
  • Be someone who treated me badly at some point, then decided maybe I don't remember. Oh, I remember.

The Blog

How come you don’t write as much political stuff as you used to?

I wrote a lot in the ‘80s and ‘90s, much of which was pretty decent, but some of course was complete crap. Looking back, sometimes I was more interested in finding facts that fit my conclusions and not the other way around. That’s a pretty common thing, and totally human, incidentally — if you’ve ever been in a family quarrel, or heard talk radio of any kind in the last decade, you know the deal — but usually only obvious to yourself after some time passes. (There's a little about why this might be in Trebekistan.) Then I wrote almost nothing political at all for a while, especially during the year I was working at CSI:, although being a low-level staff writer I did manage to slip some unusual stuff into the show occasionally. (Ever see the episode where a poker player drops dead, and the ultimate cause was pollution in West Africa? Hi there.)

I did a slew of political blogginess for for a couple of years over on This Modern World where I guested for cartoonist Tom Tomorrow. Back in those faraway days of 2003 and 2004, believe it or not, there were not yet hundreds and hundreds of liberal-leaning blogs getting significant traffic. A few dozen, tops, I’d guess. So it seemed especially worthwhile, what with the 2004 elections coming up.

Lately, though, there are lots of blogs that write about politics in a way that’s either funnier or clearer or better-informed than anything I’m likely to churn out. Many are all three. Plus, there’s this whole making-a-living thing, and that takes considerable time.

Where did the Sopranos finale analysis go?

A few days after the Sopranos finale ended, I put up a post pointing out about a dozen clear signs that maybe (note the word "maybe") Tony had been whacked — everything from a previous episode's explicit description of what death would look like (matching the end of the show perfectly) to choreography clearly inspired by the killing of Solazzo in The Godfather to elaborate set design in an establishing shot that strongly resembled the Last Supper.

I didn't think it was particularly insightful — frankly, it was all so obvious I originally figured somebody else probably had noticed it all, too — and more importantly, I didn't actually care.  It was a freakin' TV show.  It is not important.

But try telling that to the millions of fans who were left with no idea what happened.  Within days, the Internet found my post, and I suddenly had hundreds of thousands of visitors within the next few days — few of whom, judging from hundreds of emails, were interested in anything but either worshipping what I'd written as the Truth or tearing me a new one despite being unable to contradict the factual content of what I'd written. (I did make a few minor factual errors, which I acknowledged and corrected in the first couple of days the post was online.) 

All this muddle-headed energy over the death of a fictional character, while real wars raged and our own government was still butt-deep in serious human rights abuses, made me want to throw up.

I regretted my own part in the damn thing, and for the first time in the history of this site, I yanked the post. 

What happened to the daily polls you had for like a year or two there?

The answer is in the question. Daily polls. For like a year. Then they became kind of twice a week, then weekly, then sort of monthly…

I’m glad people liked them – we used to get hundreds of responses every day – but when the contract to write Trebekistan came up, I just didn’t have time anymore. I just ran out of gas.

Travel

Aren’t you worried about terrorism/crime/exotic parasites, etc.?

Nah. Most of the world is pretty safe. Some pretty big chunks are much safer than Los Angeles.

Stop watching the news, which is usually at least half rubbish. Get yourself to the airport. I've been to 63 countries now on six continents, eating everything from caviar in Monaco to goat brochettes in Rwanda, and sleeping in everything from the richest hotel on earth (the Emirates Palace in Abu Dhabi) to a tin shack in Dominica. 

Loved it all, too.

How can you afford to travel so much? Aren’t you just rich from (choose one) game shows, TV residuals, wealthy paramours, selling your organs, etc.?

You’d be surprised. Round-the-world, round-the-Pacific, and similar airpasses can be way affordable with planning. Many are even less expensive if you buy them in London, Bangkok, and other places where there are large and competitive markets. But even without leaving the chair you're in right now, you can find some pretty amazing deals. 

When I went around the world in 2003-04, I bought a one-way from LAX to London for about $350 (this is easy unless you’re flying in the peak summer season), then bought a pass offered by an alliance of Virgin Atlantic, Singapore Air, and Air New Zealand for something like $1900, including taxes and stuff. Same ticket would have cost me $6000 or more (possibly much more) here. That got me to four more continents, with the bonus being a final LAX-Heathrow leg left over to start the next trip with.

Granted, even with cheap airfare, if you insist on the classic first-world tourist places (Rome, Paris, etc.), you might still pay through every orifice you have. But if you’re heading to other places, which are often waaaaay more interesting anyway, Americans and other industrialized types usually find most things ridiculously cheap, for the same reason Nike makes shoes in Vietnam and not downtown New York. The difference, of course, is that if you’re careful about it – staying and eating at locally-owned hotels and restaurants, for example, and using the trip as a chance to learn to how others live instead of trying to be an American everywhere you go – you’re often helping the locals by your visit. So everybody wins.

I think finding the time and the willingness to really just go! are much harder to come up with than the cash. I’ve known people who spent enough on lottery tickets in three years to pay for a trip they think they’d need to win the lottery to take

OK, I want to try this. What do I pack?

As close to nothing as possible. For me, it’s usually just extra socks and undies in quantity, plus a limited amount of outerwear I can layer. Sunscreen, toothbrush, floss, basic travel meds, and a thermometer. Lamisil. Digital pocket camera with extra battery, memory cards, and recharger. All-in-one international electrical adapter. Duct tape. (Extremely versatile.) T-Mobile cell phone with international dialing. (I mention T-Mobile because their deal is best, or was when I last looked into it in 2005.) Passport and vaccination card. ATM card and a couple of VISA or MasterCards. (Capital One was the best for avoiding surcharges for international transactions last I looked; they might still be the best deal, but check.) Travel health insurance info. Earplugs and sleep mask for air travel. Pages from relevant guidebooks, ripped out to save weight and space.

Might be missing something, but top of my head, I can’t think of much else.

Where to next?

Good question. Changes constantly. Check the main blog. I'll probably post pics here and there.

Pudus

What’s the deal with pudus?

Um… they’re cute as hell. And while they’re endangered in the wild, they flourish in zoos, so if enough people like them, they’ll probably be all over the place pretty soon. So they’re this site’s mascot. It makes people happy, it makes zoos happy, it makes pudus happy. Everybody wins.

That’s the deal.

I don't post pictures nearly as frequently as I used to, but they're still as cute as ever.

What, exactly, is a pudu?

Smallest species of deer in the world. Full-grown, they come up to your shins. The full species name is, believe it or not, “pudu pudu.” So that’s extra cute.

Almost completely defenseless. Placid little creatures. Affectionate in their way, given half a chance. One in the Jacksonville Zoo, where they run loose in the aviary, came right up to me and let me scratch its head once. People in Paris once tried to keep them as pets in apartments. Other people thought they were a cute kind of dog.

Their habitat in Chile and Argentina is being encroached upon by larger red deer, and as I understand it, both species are getting pushed around by human development. So pudus are now getting killed off by people’s dogs and stuff. It’s not a good deal.

Where can I see pudus?

Zoos, mostly, unless you suck it up and visit the island of Chiloe, off the coast of Chile, where they seem to do OK in the national park there. Or so I'm told. I went, and I didn't see any. So instead I went to Fernando's Hideaway in the Lakes District and saw a ton of pudus.

What’s the proper plural of the word pudu?

I’ve seen both “pudu” (like “deer,” not “deers,”) and “pudus,” which I’ve always used, and was at one time quite convinced was right. Now I’m not sure. It’s remotely possible I may have spread my own mistake so much that it’s becoming accepted usage. Language nazis, it’s all my fault.

Why are so many of your pudu entries not, um, actual pudus?

Too many wonderful animals in the world, not enough time.

Sport

What’s up with all the cricket, soccer, rugby, etc.?

Like any native Clevelander, I’ve been a sports junkie since birth. Lived and died with the Browns for decades. Mostly died. Same with the Indians, whom I still follow closely. Baseball is still my favorite sport, and I’d blog about it more if it wasn’t so redundant, being the national pastime and all.

As to soccer, I started following Arsenal about four years ago, when a Londoner friend turned me on to Thierry Henry. The guy can move a football through traffic the way Michael Jordan used to move a basketball. Even if you’re not a soccer fan, it’s cool, trust me. Then I started traveling more, and once you’re out of the U.S., soccer and basketball are usually the biggies. Soccer stuck more.

I got hooked on rugby three years ago when I was sick one night and the only cool thing on TV at 2:00 a.m. was this weird game between two teams called the Sharks and Stormers on the old Fox Sports World. I got my mind off my discomfort by trying to sort out what the hell was going on. Eventually, aha, rugby in Cape Town. Then I went back to bed. A few months later I visited Cape Town, and passed the giant stadium where I’d seen this odd game. I stopped out of idle curiosity — the South African Rugby Hall of Fame is right there, and that seemed interesting — and believe it or not, a security guard gave me a 90-minute private tour of the whole place, including a walk through the locker rooms and out through the runway onto the field. (Imagine that happening at Yankee Stadium.) It turns out that rugby people have an informal code of general civility toward each other and especially new fans. Nice counts for a lot with me. So I started loving the game before I even understood it fully.

That same security guard then called a coworker, who then gave me another tour — this time of the nearby ground where the Cricket World Cup had recently been played. This was meaningless to me, but the sheer damn friendliness made an impression. Now I lose whole stretches of my life marveling at this baseball-like game I’m still trying to learn. Makes me feel like a kid again.

Anyhow, I blog sometimes about it (a) because sports are a direct route to moments of simple joy, and that’s neat, (b) to ingratiate myself to any Aussies or Kiwis who might be in a position to offer me a writing gig, which I'd take in a heartbeat, as I enjoy both countries immensely, and (c) as a reminder to myself of how much of the world I haven't seen yet.


Prisoner of Trebekistan and Jeopardy!

I think I figured out who the Jane/David/Danny/etc. character is, and it's someone I've heard of from TV. Am I right?

Probably.

For the record, "Jane" is Jayne Mansfield, "David" is David Rockefeller, and "Danny" is Danny Gans, Las Vegas Entertainer of the Year every year since the invention of the billboard, apparently.

And I am lying through my teeth right there. If your guesses seem more reasonable, then they probably are. Rest assured, yes, if you think you know one of the characters from TV, then you probably do.

What kind of a car is Max?

Can't tell you, because I still drive him, and I value my privacy. But people apparently imagine him most frequently as a 1960s VW bug, the kind that sounds like a small aircraft taking off when it struggles to get on the interstate. That's close enough for me.

What’s Alex really like?

That’s certainly not for me to say, since I’ve only spent a few hours around him, usually in the middle of an oddly one-sided conversation while trying to keep two other people from butting in. So I can’t pretend to know, at least in any way glib enough to toss off in three sentences on a website.

That said, I like him a great deal, and I do believe that if you read Prisoner of Trebekistanyou’ll probably feel like you have a satisfying answer to your question by the end.

Isn’t it true that (choose one)…?

  • The players get something to study in advance
  • The tape is edited, and players really have more time to think than it looks
  • Producers tweak the categories to players’ various strengths
  • etc.

Nope. I’d never heard any of this crap until I’d actually been on the show and people started asking me this stuff. The game is exactly what it looks like, as roughly (considering studio audience members plus contestants) 200,000 independent witnesses over the years will happily verify.

Did you study? What kind of stuff?

Yes. Lots. And everything which seemed like it might come up.

I invite you to imagine just how insane that might have been, or whether I actually learned anything out of it, or how. But I think if you read the book, you'll still be surprised at the answers to all three.

What’s Ken Jennings like?

Happily married, loving father, nice to people, way more humble than anybody who did what he did has any right to be. I don’t presume to call him a friend yet, but we’ve emailed a bunch of times, what with our books coming out at the same time, and we hung out a couple of months ago when he was in town. Great guy. I know it's a little craw-sticking for some people that this guy can be smarter, richer, nicer, and funnier, all at once, than about 90% of the population. But there it is. We just have to live with it. And hope he doesn't turn evil.

But didn’t Ken go off on Jeopardy! and write a bunch of nasty, ungrateful stuff?

Nah. That rumor was started by some newspaper reporters too lazy to bother reading what Ken actually wrote. If you go read the actual thing Ken said, he was obviously kidding. But once the idea was out there, it spread around the world in less than two days, apparently because some reporters might feel a lot better about themselves if Ken were a jerk. Too bad for them.

Is Ken the greatest player ever?

Hard to say. Him or Brad Rutter, I'd say. Brad beat Ken pretty soundly in the 3-day final of the Ultimate Tournament of Champions. But then again, Ken had a bye to the finals and thus hadn’t played in months, while Brad was already in fighting shape from several rounds of competition. So who knows? Either way, there are probably about another twenty or thirty players (Chuck Forrest, Frank Spangenberg, Jerome Vered, Dan Melia, Pam Mueller, Mike Rooney, Leslie Frates, Robin Carroll, etc.) who are about as good, just half a notch behind at most, with everyone capable of beating anyone else on a given day.

Incidentally, every single one of those people I just listed is incredibly nice. So are almost all of the ones I didn’t. Honest.

Where do you rank in that list?

Notice that I didn’t mention myself. I might belong in the half-notch down group. Might not. Not really sure, honestly.

Why were you in the 2002 Masters tournament at Radio City Music Hall, and not, say, Dan Melia or Jerome Vered or a dozen other equally deserving folks?

The producers’ decision, not mine. I’ll probably never know for sure. There’s a bunch about how that felt for all concerned in the book, incidentally.

The author's note says that some of the names in Prisoner of Trebekistan are changed. Which ones?

I changed the names of everyone except Jeopardy! personnel, Jeopardy! players, and people in my personal life who are recognizable actors or writers whom you would be able to easily identify anyway. My family, ex-girlfriends, and other friends in the book are portrayed as accurately as I can manage, but their names and many other details are mangled enough to protect their privacy.

Did Jeopardy! vet or approve the text in any way?

Not one word crossed their desks before it reached stores. I kept waiting to come home and find the Sony Law Ninjas waiting for me, but they just seem to have decided to let me do my thing. Pretty nice of them, too, given that as a business the show is worth hundreds of millions, most likely, and they've spent over two decades building the show's reputation.

I guess they’ve been around me enough to know that I like them and wasn’t going to write a savage tell-all. Also, I’m just a contestant, and hardly close enough to the show to write a savage tell-all in the first place. Not to mention that doing so would destroy any chance I’d have to get back on the show and maybe get my shot at Brad someday.

Did you get permission from Alex to bend his last name in the title?

Kind of, but nothing in writing or anything. Last time I was on the set, I mentioned that I had this book deal, and I was thinking of this particular title. Alex fixed me with an amused but measuring look and asked simply, “is it funny?” I mumbled something back like “maybe,” since I hadn’t written a word yet. Then I recall he kind of nodded and half-smiled, which I took as approval. That was the extent of the interaction.

What does Alex think of the book?

I have no idea. I’m not sure I’m even allowed to know. The Sony Law Ninjas might come for me in the night. But he seems to have a really good sense of humor.

Is there any good Jeopardy! gossip that isn’t in the book?

Hmm. Well, I hear Alex still has his old mustache. He keeps it suspended in a vacuum-sealed frozen jar. Sony built him sort of an airlock thingy near the soundstage, and everyone who enters the studio usually genuflects. Some people leave flowers.

Incidentally, if you’re the New York Post or Fox News, I am kidding. Please do not write fake stories about me the way you did to Ken.

Are you Jeopardy! guys really all friends?

Not all, of course not. But groups of us do hang out, clustered in Los Angeles, NYC, the SF bay area, and a few other clots. Some of the local guys and I go up to CalTech every year for a QuizBowl tournament. That’s fun. Every now and again we sneak in unannounced at bar trivia nights. And Dan Melia and his wife Dara were over here for dinner just the other day.

I am incredibly fortunate to have such extremely knowledgeable and yet lighthearted people in my life to call and rely on.

Best game show prize ever.

Who Hates Whom

What qualifies you to write a book like this?

As I say in the foreword, positively nothing. I'm just some guy. (Then again, so are nearly all of the talking heads setting the terms of public debate in the United States, sad to say.) It just seemed like a book like this should exist, and as far as I could tell, it didn't. As to whether the content is credible, that's your call, of course. But, my occasional fallibility aside (see the errata page for that), you should be able to verify pretty much everything in the book in a couple of Googles.

When were the essays completed?

Generally speaking, about six months before publication, give or take. Which, given the nature of war, is a bit like doing an oil painting of a fireworks display. For high-flux situations like Iraq and Afghanistan, I tried to squeeze in updates as late as possible in the process. (My editor can tell you how much extra work I kept making for him.) But even those had a lead time of months. Still, as I write this on the eve of publication, as far as I can tell, most of the thing holds up pretty darn well. Much better than I expected, to be honest.

Why isn't [insert your favorite civil war / insurrection / international stand-off here] included?

Believe it or not, my publisher originally wanted the book to be only 30,000 words long. Which was, of course, impossible. As it is, most of the essays are short enough to read on the can, which seems a bit unjust, given that we're often describing situations in which countless nice human beings have lost their lives. The risk of trivializing anything haunted me every waking minute while writing this thing. Ultimately, we convinced the kind publisher to extend my word and page limit up by about fifty percent (which costs money out of their pocket, mind you), and then I spent most of the month of March 2007 cutting and slashing every spare word, and in a few cases, entire chapters.

Cigarette companies apparently cranking up the nicotine

Here’s a way to enhance customer loyalty: make your product potentially more physically addictive — from the Washington Post:

The amount of nicotine in most
cigarettes rose an average of almost 10 percent from 1998 to 2004, with
brands most popular with young people and minorities registering the
biggest increases and highest nicotine content, according to a new
study.

Is this just an quirk, an accident?  Um… probably not, according to a
federal judge, who apparently spent just a little time on the issue:

[I]n a 1,653-page opinion released two
weeks ago in a landmark suit against the major tobacco companies by the
federal government and several anti-smoking organizations, the judge
found that cigarette makers adjusted nicotine levels with great care.

"Brands most popular with young people and minorities registering the biggest increases."

Nice.

Update: this Slate piece (found via boingboing) disputes the above, possibly persuasively.  Your call.