Best Deadly Sin?

Lowbrow Answer: Gluttony
God is basically saying that obese people are going to hell. They could be the nicest people on the face of the earth, but they'll be burning in an eternal inferno once they die from Diabetes or heart failure. Better lay off the donuts, fatty, or you'll be stuck spending eternity with Hitler, Judas, and Scar from the Lion King.

The worst part about this sin is that it doesn't just apply to food. It's basically taking too much of ANYTHING. So if I overindulge and read too much Kafka or Beckett, I'm a sinner? What if I give too much money to charity or do too well in a marathon? What a stupid sin.


Middlebrow Answer: Lust
I don't care what the Christian Right says, sex is great. Wonderful even. It's biology. If we weren't supposed to be craving it, then it wouldn't feel so good. If God were serious about mankind not boning so much, then he would have made the act itself feel like putting your hand in a fire or listening to a Britney Spears album all the way through.

If wanting to bone hot chicks is a sin, then God's an idiot. He's the one who supposedly made them so beautiful, shouldn't he understand if I'm walking around with a hard-on? If the inventor of the Bazooka loans me one and I accidentally blow up a Wendy's, how can he be mad? What the hell did he think was going to happen?


Highbrow Answer: Wrath
Nothing tastes better than vengeance. Wrath is highbrow because it's so open-ended. There's no clear path for this one, you just have to do something that counts as revenge. So, for example, if my roommate Dave poops on the floor of my bathroom in the middle of the night and I retaliate by taking a dump in his water bottle, then I get to tell everyone in hell that I'm there for pooping in a water bottle. Awesome.

Wrath also just sounds scary. Say it out loud. You feel like you're delivering some unholy war cry. It belongs in that collection of words that are terrifying even if you don't know their meaning, along with "Jihad," "Schadenfreude," and "arugula." Yeah, I know that last one is lettuce, but it sounds like some scary spider from The Odyssey.

Best Shakespeare Play?

Lowbrow Answer: Twelfth Night
My god, this play is annoying. I'm all for suspension of disbelief, but this shit where a girl is playing a boy and nobody can tell the difference is frustrating. Hey, everybody, that "guy" has boobs and no facial hair. And when the characters sneak to the edge of the stage to tell somebody a secret, WE CAN ALL HEAR YOU. Come on, Shakespeare. Couldn't you at least have them left the room?

And what's with everybody falling in love with everybody else? Did somebody spike the punch with pheromones or something? The cast of this play is like a group of teenagers on Ecstasy at a rave; everyone is horny and making out with each other and nobody really knows why.


Middlebrow Answer: Romeo and Juliet
Mercutio is the best fictional character ever created. He's the kind of dude that you want on your rugby team or standing behind you if some meat-head is about to kick your ass. He also delivers the best line in the play and gets to die epically. I would have a huge crush on him if I weren't so concerned with trying to BE him.

This play does have its problems, though. Romeo meets Juliet at a party and then falls in love. Boom. Just like that. I'm sorry, but I've met a bunch of great girls at parties and I've never just fallen in love with them. Come on, Romeo. You've got to slow down a bit. What if you get Juliet home and discover that her walls are covered in John Mayor posters and her favorite movie is "Must Love Dogs?"


Highbrow Answer: Titus Andronicus
This shit is crazy. Tongues get cut out, people get baked into pies, arabs are buried in sand and left to starve, and everyone is dead at the end. It's basically "Silence of the Lambs" set in 1590.

The most epic character is Lavinia, who basically spends the whole play getting shit on. First she is raped, then her hands are cut off and her tongue is removed by the douchebags who raped her, and then her own father snaps her neck. How cheerful. Maybe Disney should do an animated version for next Christmas. We could call it, "Eat Your Heart Out," and each of Lavinia's stumps could have a little mouth and play the comical supporting characters.

Best Length for a Woman's Skirt?

Lowbrow Answer: To the Thigh
Trust me, I love vagina's as much as the next guy. Maybe even more so. But I don't need to see them while I'm eating an omelet at Denny's or arguing with the mechanic about why my muffler is suddenly dragging on the ground. There's a time and a place, my love, and that time is not during physics class and that place is not at my grandmother's funeral.

I inherently distrust any piece of clothing that uses less fabric than a scarf. Plus, what's the point of putting in a bunch of work so that a girl will let you see her cash and prizes if she's showing them to everybody every time she goes out to a club. The whole idea of having a girlfriend is that I don't have to share. I didn't buy a flatscreen TV so that all my neighbors could come over and watch it, ya know what I mean?


Middlebrow Answer: To the Ankle
There are few things more elegant than a woman in an evening gown. Makes you feel like we're back in the 1920's, when men wore badass suits everywhere and women didn't look like tramps all the time. We should go back to that era. We could all learn to dance to big band music, Coney Island would be the happiest place on earth, and I could finally change my name to Phinneus without fear of reprisal from my lacrosse-playing fratboy classmates.

That being said, ankle-length has its problems. Why grow a rose to keep it in a cupboard? We're not Amish; we won't pass out or be overtaken by the devil if we see a little calf muscle. Plus, it's got to be hot under there. Nobody wants the equivalent of a sheet wrapped around their legs in the middle of July. Nobody who isn't living in the Arctic, anyway.


Highbrow Answer: To the Knee
This is the shit. Not too hot, not too cold. A knee-length skirt is like good soft-core porn; we get to see some nice sex but we avoid the weird hardcore stuff where people are trying to shove vegetables into each other's buttholes or all the women are dressed like slutty Russian Field Mice.

People today have forgotten the joy of mystery. The pleasure of not knowing. A knee-length skirt lets your imagination run wild. Maybe your lady friend has endargered Peruvian goldfish hidden in her crotch. Maybe she's growing sweet potatoes. You'll never know until you get up there. It's an Agatha Christie novel: "Murder in a Knee-Length Skirt on the Orient Express."

Best Defunct Baseball Team?

Lowbrow Answer: Orlando Juice (Played in the Senior Professional Baseball League from 1989-1990)
"Orlando Juice" sounds like a member of the Wu-Tang Clan or a character on "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air." It does not sound like a professional baseball team. You haven't even told us what kind of juice it is. Maybe it would be better if it were the Orlando Orange Juice or the Orlando CranApple juice. Then we'd at least know the flavor of the team.

This squad played for just one year in a league for old people. No, seriously. The league age limit was you had to be at least 35. I wonder if they had bathroom breaks every inning or if the umpires were also nurses in case somebody broke a hip. No wonder the league itself only lasted a year and a half; I bet most of the players had died of exhaustion after the first 11 months.


Middlebrow Answer: Cleveland Infants (Played in the Players' League in 1890)
Playing baseball in the 19th century is awesome. It's the epitome of "old-school." Realize for a second that 1890 is only 25 years after the Civil War had ended. That means that all the players still had crazy-ass facial hair like this or this, still hated anybody from south of the Mason-Dixon line, and probably used muskets to lay down bunts. Awesome.

No matter how you look at it, though, "Infants" is a terrible name for a baseball team. The name of your team is supposed to incite fear and terror in the hearts of your opponents, not make them say, "Awwwww. Wook at the widdle baby." What was your mascot? A giant baby wandering around the field, flinging poo from its diaper at opposing fans?


Highbrow Answer: Kansas City Monarchs (Played in the Negro League from 1920 - 1965)
It's pretty hard to argue against a team that had Jackie Robinson, Satchel Paige, Elston Howard, and Ernie Banks. That would be like trying to convince me that a band made up of Thom Yorke, Bjork, Beck, Trent Reznor, and Michael Stipe played shitty music; I just wouldn't believe you.

The name Monarchs, too, had a nice dual meaning. On one hand, we're talking about kings and queens and the monarchy. On the other, we're talking about a North American butterfly, one of the only insects in the world capable of making a transatlantic journey. Either way, we're talking about some highbrow. Butterflies rule. I want to get a string of them tattooed on me, starting at my ass and ending in my crotch. Then they'll be going from my butt to my fly. Get it? "Butt-to-flies?" I'm hilarious.

Best Muppet?

Lowbrow Answer: Ms. Piggy
Alright, don't think I'm sexist for choosing the one prominent female Muppet to be the lowbrow choice: I can't help it if the one prominent female Muppet sucks ass. She's blonde, she's spoiled rotten, and she's trying to be an actress; she's the Muppet version of Paris Hilton. I can't wait till somebody releases a sex tape that shows Miss Piggy getting reamed by the Swedish Chef.

Miss Piggy's solution to any problem she can't solve is to karate chop everbody in sight. Real classy. There's nothing more lowbrow than throwing a tantrum when things don't go your way. You're like Hitler, or that kid "Jimmy" who used to sit in the back of my kindergarten class and sniff flavored markers. I'm pretty sure Jimmy is in prison now on an armed robbery charge. Poor, crazy bastard.


Middlebrow Answer: Kermit the Frog
Kermit seems to be the only Muppet who ever makes any sense. He also is the only one that we ever see driving or playing a banjo, so at least we can be sure he has competent fine motor skills. That's more than I can say for alot of Americans, including our last president.

But Ms. Piggy? Seriously? You're the head of the Muppets. You could be shacking up with Janice from Dr. Teeth and Electric Mayhem or Kim Kardashian. What are you doing with the annoying pig? You need to grow a pair, dude. Tell that controlling bitch that you need some space or you're gonna sell her to the slaughterhouse down the street. Oh, also, "The Rainbow Connection" sounds like it was written by Hanson.


Highbrow Answer: Gonzo the Great
Two dollars to anybody who can tell me what species Gonzo even is. He looks like a cross between a turkey and a mosquito, but I can't be sure. On The Muppet Show, Gonzo had a bunch of jobs, including conductor and bomb technician. Badass. The guy must have been in grad school for 35 years to earn both those titles.

Gonzo is also romantically involved with Camilla the Chicken. Now THAT'S a woman. She doesn't nag or complain, she's a cheap date, and she'll make you an omelet any time you want one. Literally. Plus, she's got a whole gaggle of friends who look just like her if you're ever feeling a bit kinky.

Best Beatle?

Lowbrow Answer: Paul McCartney
What a toolbag. McCartney is responsible for all the dumb, poppy bullshit that the Beatles put out. You know the songs I'm talking about. It's all the ones with "love," "baby," or "your hand" in the title. And hey, people who keep trying to convince me that Wings is a good band; you're wrong. They blow. McCartney going from the Beatles to THAT is like Hugh Grant going from Elizabeth Hurley to this.

And what's with McCartney still playing? He's been at festivals all over the place and was even the headliner for Glastonbury in 2004. Dude, just quit. None of us twenty-somethings even know who you are. You're trying to get thousands of people to feel nostalgic about "Hey Jude," a song you wrote about twenty years before any of us were even born. Get off the stage, we want to see the Ting-Tings.


Middlebrow Answer: John Lennon
He's responsible for what are, in my opinion, the three most amazing songs in the Beatles catalog in "I am the Walrus," "A Day in the Life," and "Across the Universe." Plus his glasses are cool and his hair is sexy. He's like an English, musician, seventies version of Zac Efron. Dreamy.

Of course, all I really have to say to negate all of that are the words, "Yoko Ono." Come on, Lennon. Didn't you learn anything from World War II? What are you doing cavorting with the Japanese? You're a Beatle. You can have any girl you want, and you chose her? Seriously? That's like me having a whole library of good pornography and choosing to masturbate to golf instead; it's just not making the most of my options, ya know?


Highbrow Answer: George Harrison
Anybody who is good friends with the cast of Monty Python earns instant kudos. In particular, Harrison was close with Eric Idle. Here they are performing together. So, let's see. Your friends work in low-level white collar jobs, taking orders from wealthy, boring republicans and spending their weekends cheering for the Red Sox and doting on their future children, and his friends are comedy legends who pushed the boundaries of art and censorship and will be revered by the entertainment business FOREVER. Hmmm. Who wins....

Harrison is also basically responsible for introducing the world to the sitar. When travelling in India, he decided to contact Ravi Shankar to learn the instrument. Remember back in the day when young people actually devoted themselves to learning something hard instead of playing guitar hero all day and texting each other? Harrison wrote "Within You Without You" on the sitar, which went on the Sargent Pepper's album. Give it a listen; who knew a white guy could shred the sitar with such gusto?

Best Movie about Robots?

Lowbrow Answer: Transformers
I can't even tell who is fighting who in most of these battle scenes. It's just a big mess of machinery and yelling and explosions. I feel like Michael Bay's answer for any problems during shooting must have been "just blow something up:"

Producer: Michael, there's a huge plot hole on page 45.
Michael: Let's drop a Ferrari onto the Eiffel Tower. That should clear things up.
Producer: ...Okay. And what about the final love scene?
Michael: Have a locomotive crash through an entire squadron of Marine tanks.
Producer: But there are no trains in the script.
Michael: In that case, let's ram a space shuttle into The Lincoln Memorial.
Producer: ...What?


Middlebrow Answer: A.I.
You and every critic in America may hate this movie, but anything that Stanley Kubrick had a hand in creating automatically rises above lowbrow. This film isn't as bad as everyone thinks it is. It's got cyborg gigolos, aliens, fake children, weird talking teddy bears, Ben Kingsley's voice, and all kinds of neon lights. Sounds like one of the sex dreams I've been having lately.

Of course, it does have its problems. It's way too long, the ending is crazy, and I keep expecting Haley Joel Osment to start pointing out dead people. I also don't quite understand the sudden appearance of aliens in the end. It makes about as much sense as a two-legged dog with the head of Martin Van Buren. See what I'm talking about?


Highbrow Answer: Bladerunner
Oh, Ridley Scott. You were so awesome before you got senile and started making movies like "Body of Lies" and "A Good Year." Bladerunner is totally money. It's basically Harrison Ford wandering through shadowy, rainy backdrops contemplating the difference between human and artificial life. Harrison Ford makes anything awesome. They could film him cooking a pot roast for 2 hours and I'd watch.

The movie ends with the famous "Tears in Rain" monologue, which is basically pornography for the highbrow elite. It's raining, it's dark, and a cyborg is speaking his last words before his systems shut down and he is dead forever. BONER. I think maybe only Adorno and Marx tag-teaming Hannah Arendt would give me more of an erection.