TEN THOUSAND PEOPLE, MAYBE MORE:  Billy Bragg had to add his contribution via telephone, but otherwise the Cage Against The Machine all-star recording of "4'33" went off without a hitch yesterday.  Proceeds of the potential Christmas #1 single will benefit, among other charities, the British Tinnitus Association and the Campaign Against Living Miserably

BABA BOOEY BYE BYE: Howard Stern says he's not going to take a paycut from his current $100M/year deal with Sirius/XM to provide his talent, while Sirius/XM says "you're taking a paycut if you want to stay on our airwaves." Now, I'm no fan of Stern (found him far more interesting before he divorced his long time wife and married the hot, much younger lingerie model), but I think it's an interesting question--where does he wind up--does he become the biggest, most expensive, podcast ever? Does he take his act to cable TV? Does CNN want the ratings juice enough that they'd turn over a couple of hours to him? Does he get his own TV network? Any idea on where this is winding up?

FOR CAESAR RODNEY, PUNKIN CHUNKIN AND DOGFISH HEAD 60 MINUTE IPA:  Today is Delaware Day, celebrated annually to commemorate its becoming the first state to ratify the United States Constitution on December 7, 1787.  Back in October 2008, our friend George suggested things the Tampa Bay Devil Rays should do during their unscheduled World Series off-day marooned in Wilmington.

EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE THE A CAPELLA WORLD:  A thread for the debut episode of NBC's The Sing-Off.  My comments below the fold; also, more Jerry Lawson and Talk of the Town.

A COMMENT ON COMMENTS:  You may recall that it was 49 weeks ago that this blog finally upgraded to a new template and, with the demise of Haloscan, accepted Echo's offer of a one-year free trial of its commenting features.

Well, that year is coming to a close, and the piper would like to be paid.  $10/month, to be exact.

There is a lot to like about Echo -- the multiple login options, the use of avatars, the "like" button, threaded comments and the ease of moderation from our end.  At the same time, its synchronization feature is erratic -- yielding multiple days on which comments aren't accessible from many devices -- and we do have issues like triple-posting and the like.

Also, this blog is a hobby and a lark for all of us -- we have never accepted advertising or sought any revenue from this, but nor do we necessarily want to be spending money on it either.  It may be an irrational distinction, but I think to have to start to paying for this would change they way we experience doing it.

Still, I wrote back to the Echo folks, $120/yr is a bit much for the value you provide to us.  How about $50, and if service improves we'll consider a full fee next year?, to which they responded, basically, "That's nice. Here's some other platforms you may want to consider instead."  (They've been quite friendly, in fact.) Intense Debate was one, and obviously we could use Blogger.com's own commenting functions.

So here's where we need your help.  What we're looking for in a commenting host is the following:

• It should be free.
• It should be simple and clean as a layout matter.
• It should not require a complicated login, and must protect the pseudonymity/anonymity of our users.
• It should synchronize with our existing comments, which reach 2,000/month.
• It should allow comment reading and posting from all mobile devices.
• It should allow for easy moderation/editing/spam protection.
• Ideally, it would allow for threaded comments, "like" buttons, etc.
• It should reward its bearer with riches beyond his or her wildest imagination.

So, gang, any advice? 

MORE AMUSING THAN ANOTHER ROUND OF "GAYLORD FOCKER" JOKES: The idea of someone deciding to legally change their name to "Captain Awesome" is amusing enough. That it resulted in a newspaper story including the sentence "That judge — whose name Awesome cannot remember and who is not identified in Awesome’s court records — questioned his seriousness," elevates it.

THIS IS A COMIC BOOK ABOUT FEDERALISM: Have you ever been troubled by whether evidence gathered by Professor X through mindreading is admissible? Whether the Keene Act in Watchmen would pass muster under current commerce clause jurisprudence? The patentability of all those things on Batman's utility belt? Well then, have I got a blog for you. (The only shortcoming? It's not apparently run by Matthew Murdock, who, as we all know, has substantial practical experience with these issues.)

YOU'VE GOT TO KEEP THE DEVIL WAY DOWN IN THE HOLE: There are two ways to tell a zombie story. In the first, there's no hope, in which case the story is an endless tale of attrition, where survival is dependent upon constant vigilance, and inevitable lapses are punished. In the second, there is a solution, and the struggle is less for survival than goal-oriented salvation. These tropes are not unique to zombie fiction (see A Brief History of the Dead for an example of the former; Battlestar Galactica for an example of the latter; Dan Simmons's The Terror for a book that keeps you guessing between the two), but zombie fiction forces the choice. In Zombieland, you know our idiot heroes aren't going to save the world, but you Resident Evil would be a lousy game if your only goal were to escape unharmed.

What was nice for me about this brief, engaging, surprisingly measured and thoughtful season of The Walking Dead is that it postponed that choice as long as it did. (Hopefully, I'm not spoiling the choice the show made.) Alan Sepinwall's summary of this season was that it was more prologue than story, and that seems exactly right: the direction next season is going to take necessarily will be different from the thread of this short season. So bring on next season.

Also, as usual, I will root for the zombies.

YOU ARE LISA SIMPSON:  Josh Kurp's Eight Times The Simpsons Made Me Cry might be my favorite highlight from SplitSider's Classic Simpsons Week.

NUMBER ONE SONG AFTER NUMBER ONE SONG: As a reminder, NBC's "The Sing-Off" returns for a second season of competitive unaccompanied singing this evening. The ten teams are listed here, including collegiate teams from Yale, Oregon, and USC/UCLA. Ben Folds, Shawn Stockman and Nicole Scherzinger return to judge. We all liked this show last season, and we've got some real experts in a capella singing whom I expect to see in our comments as the brief season progresses.

SO IF YOU BELIEVE IN FATHER CHRISTMAS, CHILDREN, LIKE YOUR UNCLE BILLY DOES, THEN BUY THIS FESTERING TURD OF A RECORD:  Last year, Rage Against The Machine's "Killing in the Name" finally broke the streak of X Factor winners of the annual UK Christmas #1 Song competition.  Odds have been posted for this year's battle, and among those hoping to defeat the single from whoever wins X Factor 7 (expected to be their version of Lee DeWyze) is a reunited Take That as well as perennial favorites "Last Christmas" by Wham! and, of course, "Fairytale of New York" by the Pogues with Kirsty MacColl.

Want another oddball winner?  Two chief contenders: The Trashmen's "Surfin' Bird" (yes, because of this) and a celebrity cover (Billy Bragg!) of John Cage's "4'33"" (which will include remixes).

[For those unclear with what we're getting when X-Factor hits the States next fall, meet Jedward.]

... WILL BE ELIMINATED:   Thoughts about the penultimate episode of The Amazing Race 17 after the fold.

YOU HAVE THE LUXURY OF NOT KNOWING WHAT ANDY REID KNOWS:   According to ProFootballTalk.com, Philadelphia Eagles teammates have become so concerned about wide receiver DeSean Jackson's apparent unwillingness to take hits that “Vets were going to give 10 a code red if he didn’t quit being a candy ass.”

DID YOU DO THE MONKEY?  In Sunday's NYT, Steve Martin defends himself:

I'M THE BEAVER, WALTER. AND I'M HERE TO SAVE YOUR DAMN LIFE:  Please attempt to watch the trailer for the new Mel Gibson movie without giggling in ways not intended by the filmmaker, Jodie Foster.

IF I COULD HAVE ONE WISH THAT I COULD WISH THIS HOLIDAY SEASON:  Steve Martin has a new novel out about the art world, a milieu in which he has much personal and direct experience.  So when NYC's 92nd Street Y promoted an event with Martin in conversation with an art critic/historian (who also does the NYT Mag's condensed/edited interview page), you'd expect that most of the conversation would be about that.

Which, as you probably know by now, caused something of a shitstorm on the Upper East Side, with angry emails during the event prompting an organizer to interrupt the talk to, basically, demand that the band stop promoting the new album and play "Freebird" already, as Linda Holmes put it:

It is exactly — exactly — like demanding your money back because Elton John didn't play "Rocket Man." Too bad, so sad. Nobody promised you the cookie-cutter experience that every other audience seeing every other similar event has ever seen. When you see an artist perform — and even more so when you hear an artist interviewed — there is no guarantee of the content; that's the exact point of going. Why would you go to hear someone speak if you already knew what he was going to say? If you want to read about how Steve Martin feels about acting and comedy, couldn't you find several looseleaf binders full of that stuff? The guy is not a recluse.

Worse, the 92nd Street Y wholly undermined Martin and Solomon by offering refunds to the disgruntled, essentially saying "your talk was worthless."  That's just something you don't do -- it's basically a Pander Or Die notice to every future speaker, and a red flag against doing anything challenging or new.  Even if the interview in fact wasn't going well, that's just the risk you take as an audience member at a live event.  Sometimes Springsteen's going to play the hits; sometimes it's all "Devils & Dust" and "Dream Baby Dream" on the pump organ.  You might not love it, but you can't ask for your money back either.

I saw a lot of standup comedians live growing up, and I was always disappointed when they'd just do the same routines from their HBO specials and tv.  I didn't want that; I wanted to hear something new.  If you want to attend events where you know exactly what you're going to receive, go see Gallagher.  Steve Martin is not Gallagher, and he's not going to smash the watermelon every night. Thank goodness.

WELL, YOU COULD ALWAYS ADD BILL MURRAY: Could the current Tommy Hilfiger commercials be any more Wes Anderson-y? (I suppose you could also replace the Vampire Weekend song with a British Invasion one, but tonally, the song is very Anderson.)

THAT'S ENTERTAINMENT! Although the eternal child Bart Simpson was EW's first Entertainer of the Year back in 1990, this year's Entertainer of the Year is Taylor Swift--the youngest real person to ever obtain the title--and in my view, it's certainly a defensible choice, given that she's had achievements in music (the armload of Grammys, Speak Now), film (Valentine's Day, which wasn't terribly good, but I found her hyperactive performance interesting), and TV (hosting SNL surprisingly well) over the course of the year. Unsurprisingly, the comments at EW are ablaze with how this is horrible, with folks arguing for (among others) James Franco and Jon Hamm. Make your arguments.

WHATEVER DRAGONS SHE'D BEEN CHASING, SHE CHASED THEM AND TRAPPED AND SLEW 'EM BETWEEN ACTION AND CUT:  After a few years away from the business, Kirsten Dunst is back.  Thank goodness -- between Dick, Bring It On, The Virgin Suicides, Spider-Man and, for what it's worth, her stint on ER, this is an actress with a remarkable ability to convey sincerity, who draws your sympathy every time -- and I am rooting for her comeback.

EGOT WATCH:  Among the nominees for Grammy Awards announced last night, in the category of Best Spoken Word Album for Children, is Emma Thompson for Nanny McPhee Returns.  She's already got the "E" for her guest spot on "Ellen" and the "O" for starring in Howard's End and for adapting Sense and Sensibility.

[Feel free to comment about the nominees in any of the 109 categories here.]

CORRECT ME IF I'M WRONG. IS THIS THE CRAFTIEST [TWELVE-LETTER WORD FOR INCEST] WHO'S EVER BEEN ON THIS SHOW?   Sometimes, Anthony Bourdain doesn't need to be fancy.  Sometimes, all he needs to say is "Didn't look good. Didn't taste good.  Wasn't cooked right," and as much as one might have expected a different outcome, this first Top Chef All-Stars result certainly makes a certain amount of sense.

That said, Bourdain's blog is already up.  As to the dish I thought seemed the worst, he wrote: "Whatever the f--- it was, was diabolical. A pu-pu platter from Hell. If Hell was a bad tiki bar in a Long Island strip mall."

I'm already ready to be rid of the subject of the title quote, as well as Mikey, and Sepinwall's right that Fabio's got a nasty case of Rupert-itis. Count me on Team Blais for now, but there are plenty of chefs (Somerton's Own Jen Carroll, Angelo, Hootie Hoo and Jamie) for whom I'm rooting.  Welcome back to the kitchen.

PLEASE GO ON. REGALE ME WITH A STORY, WOMAN:  Oh, Survivor.  No, we've never quite seen that before.

I'VE BEEN TO HOLLYWOOD; I'VE BEEN TO REDWOOD: In Los Angeles, we aspire to be scandalously sexy. In DC, unscandalously sexy. In San Francisco, scandalously unsexy. Discuss.

(I've been traveling a lot.)

YOU CAN'T STOP THE BIEBER: Tonight, the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences will announce the nominees in the 109 categories for the Grammy awards. For reasons explicable only to someone who's not me, the eligibility year is September 1, 2009-September 30, 2010, meaning that big recent albums (Speak Now, The Incredible Machine, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy) are not eligible, though early release singles may be ("Mine" would seem a safe bet for nods in at least the country categories), and older albums are (Susan Boyle, Michael Buble, Jay-Z's most recent). HitFix has a preview, suggesting we're in for a big year for Gaga, Lady Antebellum, and Eminem. Anyone you're rooting for or against?

HOOTIE HOO: We don't blog about every permutation of Top Chef here, but its first All-Star season? Hells yes. Starting tonight, we'll be seeing the return of the following folks who didn't win, but sure seem like fun to have around again:

Season 1: Tiffani Faison, Stephen Asprinio
Season 2: Marcel Vigneron, Elia Aboumrad
Season 3: Dale Levitski, Casey Thompson, Tre Wilcox
Season 4: Richard Blais, Spike Mendelsohn, Dale Talde, Antonia Lofaso
Season 5: Fabio Viviani, Jamie Lauren, Carla Hall
Season 6: Michael Isabella, Jennifer Carroll
Season 7: Angelo Sosa, Tiffany Derry

WEDNESDAY MORNING, 3 A.M. (EXPERIMENTAL INTERNET ENTERTAINMENT EDITION): Hey. Got 10 minites? How about 8 minutes and 53 seconds? If you're still up, man, there's no reason not to give it that much longer.

First, open this DJ QBert YouTube scratch freestyle in a new tab, but just for the audio (no need to watch DJ QBert throw down at this time). Then, while he works over Kool G Rap, go here, and scroll down through the cornucopia of variously compelling artworks, faster or slower as interest dictates.

Mabye click some links. Maybe read some of the titles. Ponder the pretty pictures. Relaxen und watchen das blinkenlichten. Waxin' and milkin' all of y'all squareheads. Mmmm... that's good internets!

Sweet dreams, sleepy people.

ECONOMY OF (FOUR LETTER) WORDS: Baby. That'll do, really.

I was sitting here trying to express my frustration and disappointment with the just-concluded season of Sons of Anarchy. The screed was getting longer and longer. The tirade was getting more and more torrid. The rant was veering from the vaguely literate to the indulgently vulgar and consuming punctuation conspicuously (primarily of the parenthetical and interrobang varieties).

Then I remembered a comment from one of our worthy readers (Amber, here) that adequately captured the general disappointment with Shoot 'Em Up a few years ago. It seems to me that it applies equally well to the Sons of Anarchy situation this season: simply put, it had too many babies in it.

Cut Abel The Kidnapped Wonder-MacGuffin out of the storyline and it could have been perfectly serviceable run of episodes. There would have been time for so much more of the good stuff about law vs. order, practice vs. principle, love vs. lifestyle, that previously threatened to make this show more than a bad soap opera dressed up in black leather and dirty denim. In fact, if Jax Teller hadn't gone all Sally Field on us this season, it would have saved cast, crew, audience, and production company the time, expense, strain, and embarrassment of that thumpingly ill-scripted and implausible trip to Ireland. None of that was remotely necessary, and it was all done at the expense of more interesting themes, plot lines, and characters--the very things that drew me in last season.

Really, my list of gripes is profanity-laced and never-ending, but that sums it up: too many babies.