As
careful
and
certain
as
we've
attempted
to
be
in
our
deliberations,
we're
humble
enough
to
admit
that
there
is
a
very
real
danger
of
ill-advised
selections.
The
most
effective
ejudicators
know
when
to
admit
their
misjudgements,
(or
at
least
to
accede
to
the
wishes
of
a
vocal
majority,
in
the
hopes
that
God
will
eventually
have
His
way
with
the
originally-selected
bitch
or
bastard).
Or
perhaps
they've
redeemed
themselves
in
some
way,
and
deserve
a
second
chance
at
life--say,
if
Yanni
were
to
set
fire
to
all
of
his
CDs,
tapes,
LPs,
and
mini-discs
live
on
national
television,
or
if
Celine
Dion
hit
a
piercing
high
note
that
ruptured
both
of
Rosie
O'Donnell's
ear
drums.
Aside
from
Jimmy
Hoffa,
practically
nothing
is
set
in
cement,
and
we
offer
our
"Reconsidered"
section
for
when
we
need
to
show
a
proper
degree
of
humility
for
our
prior
hasty
selections.
Pass
the
honey
mustard
sauce,
please.
|
IMMUNITY!
DA2k3
PASSENGER
MR.
BLACKWELL
(SEAT
14C)
GRANTED
SIX-MONTH
STAY
FOR
PICKING
5
DEAD
AIR
GUESTS
FOR
HIS
ANNUAL
WORST-DRESSED
LIST |
1.12.01:
While
we
freely
admit
our
fallibility
and
that
we
may
now
and
then
err
in
bequeathing
our
luxury
air
death
sentences,
as
a
rule
we
don't
believe
in
the
flexibility
and
self-improvement
potential
of
human
beings--especially
those
who
aren't
us.
Every
now
and
then,
though,
a
doomed
passenger
will
turn
around
and
do
something
admirable,
and
what
kind
of
rancid-hearted,
callous
pigs
are
we
if
we
don't
at
least
acknowledge
their
good
faith
effort
to
be
givers
rather
than
takers?
When
compiling
our
initial
manifest
in
August,
2000,
we
fell
over
one
another
vying
for
the
honor
of
nominating
the
Mesozoic
feminine-curmudgeon
hag,
Mr.
Blackwell.
.
|
 |
SHIT
SANDWICH:
DA2
PASSENGER
DAVID
LEE
ROTH
REPLACED
BY
HIS
FORMER
BANDMATES |
 |
 |
Off |
On |
1.12.01:What
were
we
thinking???
We
grew
up
on
this
man.
If
it
weren't
for
him,
canned
beer,
and
recreational
drugs,
who
knows
what
kind
of
gainful,
prosperous,
well-adjusted
and
successful
lives
we'd
be
forced
to
endure
right
now?
We
regretted
this
pick
almost
immediately.
Way
back
when,
morning
in
Ronald
Reagan's
America,
all
the
guys
wanted
to
be
him
and
all
the
girls
wanted
to
do
him.
Sure,
his
ego
ran
amok,
and
he
refused
to
show
any
humility
as
he
stumbled
through
a
dismal
post-Van
Halen
solo
career
that
should
have
shamefully
portrayed
him
as
a
pathetic
former
ensemble
player
who
was
desperate
to
prove
he
could
survive
on
his
charisma
alone
without
the
talent
that
had
once
propped
him
up--the
lack
of
which
just
reaffirmed
the
suspicion
of
his
critics
that
he
was
all
sizzle
and
no
steak;
a
90s
Vegas
stint
that
should
have
been
an
embarrassing
attempt
to
reclaim
his
"Just
A
Gigolo"-era
macho-camp
throne,
as
painful
as
watching
Rip
Taylor
on
Def
Comedy
Jam,
trying
to
wow
a
new
generation
of
fan
that
he
doesn't
realize
has
long
since
moved
past
his
dated
brand
of
entertainment.
But
not
Dave.
He
rolled
with
the
punches
like
a
champ
and
the
cock-of-the-walk
court
jester
that
won
us
over
way
back
when
we
were
sporting
bad
hair,
Lawmans,
and
blackheads
and
he
was
cartwheeling
and
caterwauling
his
way
through
the
turgid
marijuana-alcohol
fog
of
our
teen
consciousness.
His
demise
wasn't
only
not
a
career
suicide,
it
was
,
but
not
the
end
of
him
at
all.
But
his
former
bandmates?
Alex
and
Michael
have
held
on
for,
as
one
PDX
DJ
succinctly
put
it,
"the
longest
free
ride
in
the
history
of
rock
and
roll",
and
Eddie
has
gone
from
guitar
hero
to
rock-and-roll
CEO,
forgetting
how
to
spell
"aesthetic"
much
less
honor
one,
and
hiring
and
firing
lead
singers
like
they
were
Company
Presidents,
whenever
he
felt
he
needed
a
different
flak
shilling
his
long-since-arrested
musical
genius.
 |
SHIT
SANDWICH:
DA2k3
PASSENGER
DAN
AYKROYD
(SEAT
21B)
WITHDRAWN |
11.06.00:
Nominated
and
strenuously
lobbied
for
by
B.
Kelter,
Aykroyd
originally
won
his
seat
based
on
the
suspicion
that
his
comedic
capabilities
went
into
a
box
in
the
ground
with
John
Belushi
eighteen
years
ago.
His
abysmal
cinematic
track
record
has
included
dreadful
turns
in
Nothing
But
Trouble,
The
Coneheads,
Summer
Rental,
Spies
Like
Us,
Dragnet,
and
far
too
many
more.
He
was
shameless
in
resurrecting
The
Blues
Brothers,
and
Trading
Places
stands
(Bill
again)
as
one
of
the
most
overrated
movies
ever.
However,
a
recent
viewing
of
his
brilliant
Saturday
Night
Live
work
has
given
his
nominator
pause,
as
have
the
valid
protestations
of
fellow
committee
member
Lori
S.,
and
the
consideration
of
his
few
and
far
between
but
still
outstanding
roles
in
Grosse
Pointe
Blank,
Neighbors,
and
Chaplin
have
made
his
nominator
concede
that
he
probably
doesn't
deserve
to
die
a
fiery
death
over
a
suburban
commercial
zone
in
Florida
next
summer,
and
it's
likely
enough
punishment
that
he
live
a
long
and
physically-healthy
life
tormented
by
the
indelible
memory
of
every
movie
he
participated
in,
save
the
aforementioned
three.
|