IT'S ABOUT THE BIKE:  Lance Armstrong will be stripped of his seven Tour de France titles, as well as other prizes and awards, as he has chosen to no longer fight the allegations of doping levied against him by the United States Anti-Doping Agency.

As I suggested a few years back, to me there is a threshold of philanthropy which excuses just about any sin in one's professional life, and Armstrong (like Jerry Lewis) assuredly has passed it for me. If he doped in a sport in which everyone was doping,** it's not something about which I feel terribly worked up. Just don't let him host SNL again.

** Dave Zirin: "Of the seventy top ten finishers in Armstrong’s seven Tour De France victories, forty-one have tested positive for PEDS, Armstrong is a hell of a lot more than just number 42." And:

No adult male saw Mark McGwire or Sammy Sosa in 1998 and thought, “Someday I’m going to hit 70 home runs.” No adult female saw Marion Jones and thought, "Someday I’ll win gold at the Olympics.” But legions of adults have watched Lance Armstrong and thought, “Someday, I’m going to beat this damn cancer.” That’s a deeper connection than fandom or even the virtual-world of fantasy sports could ever provide. If Lance Armstrong has been able to further the connection because he’s white, photogenic, and politically connected, (and did I mention white?) then to his credit, he’s leveraged those advantages to raise over $500 million for cancer research and access to treatment in poor and minority communities across the United States.

CONVERSELY, THAT MEANS THEY'VE NEVER LIVED IN A WORLD IN WHICH TPE AND I DID NOT KNOW EACH OTHER:  That Kurt Cobain has always been deceased in the lives of the Class of 2016 (good luck, Cat!) is just one of the "crap, I'm old" realizations from this year's Beloit College Mindset list.  (The other one which hurts?  They've never known tan M&Ms; replaced with blue in early 1995.)

TRANSTROMER, MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE:  Ladbrokes has posted its odds for the 2012 Nobel Prize in Literature, with Benner's choice Haruki Murakami topping the board.  (I remain on Team Stoppard.)

IS VLAD SOMEHOW INVOLVED?  In what seems like something custom-made for The Soup, Discovery Health will soon debut a new series--I Was Impaled!

MEEP MEEP MEEP MEEP MEEP: Time for a YouTube rabbit hole!  Fun with Dr. Bunsen Honeydew and Beaker, including the gorilla detector (sadly, no Beaker in that one), fireproof paper, the multiplying machine, and elevator shoes.

HUMAN NATURE COMES WITH THE CAPACITY TO DRAW A LINE, TO HOLD FAST AGAINST THE DEHUMANIZATION AND INCREMENTAL TEARING DOWN OF THE SOCIAL FABRIC, EVEN IF THIS NEVER-ENDING ONSLAUGHT OF REALITY TELEVISION SUGGESTS THAT’S A LOSING EFFORT: THR's Tim Goodman does not care for Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.

I WANT PEOPLE OUT THERE. I WANT REPORTERS OUT THERE. THEY'RE WHAT'S KEEPING ME ALIVE:  Forty years ago today, John Stanley Wojtowicz, a gay Vietnam War veteran, along with 18-year-old Salvatore Natuarale attempted to rob a Chase Manhattan branch in the Flatbush section of Brooklyn, to obtain the $3,000 he needed for his partner's sex change operation.

If it sounds familiar, well, it is, and the NYT has a nice set of articles (overview, interview with hostage, photos) commemorating the anniversary. Among the links therein is the Life Magazine article which formed the basis for Sidney Lumet's masterful film:

“If they had been my houseguests on a Saturday night, it would have been hilarious,” Shirley Ball recalls. “Especially with John’s antics, the way he hopped around all over the place, the way he talked. John called me ‘mouth’ because I was the talkative one. It was, ‘Hey, mouth, do this’ and ‘Hey, mouth, do that.’ I really liked them both. They tried to be nice—except when they were cornered. Such aboveboard guys, they even told us they would kill us if they had to.” 

“I’m supposed to hate you guys, but I’ve had more laughs tonight than I’ve had in weeks,” bank manager Barret tells John Wojtowicz.