A controversy has arisen recently when Jeopardy clearly, without any doubt, made an incorrect ruling on its Final Jeopardy answer. No big deal there. People make mistakes. The big deal is that they have stubbornly lied to cover up their mistake, even weaving the sainted Alex Trebek into their lies.

A contestant listed her answer as “Barry Gordy” instead of of the correct “Berry Gordy.” By their own rules, this is clearly a correct answer, with no possible other interpretation.

Their rule says:

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Their recent ruling not only contradicts their own rules, but also appears to be inconsistent with all of their past interpretations of those rules.

Nobody can seem to figure out why they have not issued an apology, and that becomes even more mysterious when you realize that the ruling did not determine the daily winner. (I.e., if the contestant had been deemed to have given a correct answer, she still would not have won.)

They (including Trebek) are stubbornly holding to this response: “When a contestant adds incorrect information to an otherwise correct response, they are ruled incorrect.” That is just as ludicrous as their original ruling, in fact even more so, since nothing has been added, so it’s not only incorrect, but also irrelevant. If the contestant had answered “Barrie Gordy,” they might conceivably (but still incorrectly, by their own rule 5) have ruled that the contestant added information in the form of extra letters, but no such thing occurred. Nothing was added. The contestant merely transposed an “a” and an “e.”

Jeopardy has always held its head high as a bastion of reason and intelligence, but we seem to live in a world where nobody can ever admit they were wrong, no matter how obvious their error.

So says their prime minister, Franz “Papa” Smurf, from the tiny stump he lives in.

Personal note: I have lived in both Austria and Wisconsin. They are extremely comparable. Both locations have about 45% of their land forested. Both places have crappy weather and both populations are pretty much always drunk on beer.

The major difference is that Austria is far more densely populated in the non-forested areas, so Wisconsin has a higher ratio of trees to people. Despite that, you may be surprised to learn that Wisconsinites do not live like Keebler elves in forest cities. That would imply that Austrians do not live in forest cities either, given that they are actually more urban than we are in Wisconsin in terms of population density.

You might think that. You would be wrong.

Austrians do live in quaint forest cities, mostly inside of hollow logs, or in hastily constructed tree houses made by clumsily lashing together the rotting wood they sweep up from the floors in their forests. They spend the day getting drunk under rickety wooden bridges where they hope to capture a passing billy goat to eat for dinner. Those are just the irrefutable facts, as pictured in the photo of the Vienna skyline seen below.


There is regular flat earth and now extreme flat earth

“Australia is not real. It’s a hoax, made for us to believe that Britain moved over their criminals to someplace. In reality, all these criminals were loaded off the ships into the waters, drowning before they could see land ever again. It’s a coverup for one of the greatest mass murders in history, made by one of the most prominent empires… Australia is not real. It’s a codeword for the cold blooded murder of more than a hundred thousand people, and it is not okay. We will not, accept this. Stand up for the ones who died. Let it be known, that Australia does not exist.”

Scoop’s First Law of the Universe is this: No matter how stupid any idea is, there will be many people who believe it, and even take credit for it.

Since 1982 the Bulwer Lytton Fiction Contest has challenged participants to write an atrocious opening sentence to a hypothetical bad novel.

“She sauntered into his smoke-filled office with legs that, although they didn’t go quite all the way to heaven, definitely went high enough for him to see that she was a giraffe.”

“Handsome French policeman, Andre Poiret, grappled with the puffed-up albino hitman, who was about to shoot the beautiful high-class call girl, Gigi Lamour, who was taking a shower in her apartment, with his big gun.”

“When Sir John of York fought in the crusades, he killed many Saracens with great dispatch, and was likened unto a whirling dervish of steel and Christian might—minus the dizziness from constantly spinning in a circle, and the fact that he was on a horse that couldn’t do that.”

You think of him as a right jolly old elf, but he was more than that. There are many things you probably didn’t know about him:

Santa was a life member of the Tri-Boro Sportsman Club and was extremely well known for his trap shooting accomplishments. He was an original member of the Panchos Villains for the Centennial in Hellertown.”

Santa Claus ain’t comin’ to town no more.

Not even to Hellertown.

That’s funny.

John Oliver has recently been engaged in attacks on Danbury. Unlike some of Oliver’s other satirical condemnations, this lambasting has no basis. His comments are seething but entirely generic. They could just as easily apply to any town anywhere, in the same spirit that I always bash Fond du Lac – although I know nothing about it and it seems indistinguishable from every other boring, medium-sized midwestern city, including the one I live in. Oliver apparently just pointed his finger at a map, and it happened to rest on Danbury.

In fact, although his Danbury invective was laced with profanity, the concrete references to Danbury have actually been complimentary, using such terms as “charming railway museum” and “historic Hearthstone Castle,” and noting that “USA Today ranked it the second-best city to live in 2015” – followed of course by “Danbury, Connecticut can eat my whole ass. If you’re from there, you have a standing invite to come get a thrashing from John Oliver, children included, fuck you.”

In response, Danbury has proposed that the official name of its sewage treatment facility will be the “John Oliver Memorial Sewer Plant.” Danbury’s distinguished mayor declared, “Why? Because it’s full of crap, just like you, John.”