Remembering Michael Morsch - This Generation's Foremost Journalist

My friends, it cannot be denied: victory is, at long last, mine.

What tremendous changes a year and a half can bring! The glorious undertaking known as Inta Rightfield was begun as a way to protest the wretched writing, lazy journalism, slipshod editing and overall pomposity of one Michael Morsch. His output, both in print and on his Outta Leftfield weblog, was once prodigious, a tide of dreck that I battled with every ounce of my satiric strength.

As time went by, I received reports that Morsch himself (or Borsch, as I fondly called him) had chanced upon this blog and suspected that one of his disrespectful underlings was behind it. I heard from his former employees and co-workers, who uniformly verified the fact that he was - and is - a blundering, obnoxious clod. In a desperate attempt to prevent my routine ribbings, he even made his Twitter account private. Enthusiastic readers continued to tip me off about his work.

By 2012, however, it seemed as though ol' Mike had run out of steam. His weblog was virtually abandoned, and his print columns had degenerated into stale old re-hashes of his past glories. It was around the time that he self-published a book (it can now be purchased for $0.59, used, on Amazon) that I decided my work was most likely done, and turned my attention to other pursuits.

Then came the news in 2013: Montgomery Media executive editor to become Montgomery County director of voter services. Our boy had somehow wormed his way into a plush $75K political hack position. His qualifications? Meh! Who needs 'em? But it was true - my old foe was finally abandoning the profession of which he had made a mockery for so long. I'm not one to gloat, though. The knowledge that Outta Leftfield was dead was enough for me.

But then a curious thing happened. On a whim, knowing that he had just gone through his first round of real elections, I checked up on Morsch. His Twitter feed is again public, and again filled with inane baseball observations! One recent comment, to a nationally syndicated columnist, states, "The editing on this story is embarrassing." Yep! He's still, to borrow a quote from Dubya, "a Major-League asshole."

I also found a Letter to the Editor in the Ambler Gazette: Former Motgomery Media Executive Editor Michael Morsch will be missed. And at the bottom, nestled there like shining packages on Christmas morning, were two comments:  

Steve - Yeah, I'm sure the Stoogeum and John Oates are also upset about him leaving. Who will be there to constantly write about them now?  

Tex 2670 - Seriously--how about a little spell check???

These comments, ladies and gentleman, made my day and prompted my final post here. The power of Morsch has been broken (he routinely deleted negative comments like these). What's more, this very day, I learned that he had been dismissed from his cushy political appointment, and that the decision "wasn't his."

Of Michael "Mike" Morsch himself, what else can really be said? He was terrible. At his chosen profession - editor-cum-humor-columnist - he was not just awful, but also blissfully unaware of his own incompetence. He was a cliche, his "humor" and "knowledge" culled from Wikipedia and Animal House. He was also a martinet, using his position of authority to abuse his underlings, steal plush assignments for himself, and silence criticism. He was one of a breed of big, dumb bullies that everyone will meet in their lifetime. But as the comments above (and the recent news of his canning) revealed to me, the word was out on Morsch. Other people were watching, laughing, and shaking their heads.

Perhaps Inta Rightfield did a little good after all.

Copy-And-Paste Column

OUTTA LEFTFIELD: Milking a topic for what it’s worth: The Oreo turns 100
Published: Tuesday, March 06, 2012
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor

I should have known.

In the interest of offering you critical information that you can utilize in your everyday life — as this space so often does, especially during the wacky political season — the Oreo celebrated its 100th birthday this week.

Long-time Borsch readers will know that this political season is only "wacky" because it's the Republican primary.

According to a wire service story,

This means he stole 90% of his content from said wire service story.

a woman by the name of Becky Tousey, corporate archivist for Kraft Foods who is apparently also known as the “Oreo historian,” revealed that the cookie has maintained the same advertising focus since its inception — that it is fun to eat.

The story (which I found) uses the phrase "maintained the same theme in its advertising over the years." This is the most effort Borsch will put into his copying from here on out. I really question whether "inception" is the proper word to use when referring to a cookie.

This, of course, raises the question: Kraft Foods actually employs someone as a “corporate archivist” and expert “Oreo historian”?

Cool. I believe I may have eaten enough Oreo cookies over the course of my lifetime to actually qualify as an “Oreo historian.” I plan to revise my resume to reflect such an accomplishment.

Did you like that "I eat a lot of Oreos" joke? I hope so. You'll be seeing it again. And again. And again.

Here are some other fun facts about the Oreo, according to the wire service story:

This is code for "the remaining 75% of the article is someone else's work."

— The cookie takes 59 minutes to make and consists of 12 flowers, 12 dots and 12 dashes on each side. Each cookie also has 90 ridges.

From the story: "The cookie, which takes 59 minutes to make, consists of 12 flowers, 12 dots and 12 dashes on each side. Each cookie has 90 ridges."

— The cookies are made of 29 percent crème and 71 percent cookie. They are produced in 21 bakeries around the world, and Kraft estimates that more than 500 billion Oreos have been sold since 1912.

You guessed it! From the story: "Oreos are made from 29 percent creme and 71 percent cookie. They are made in 21 bakeries around the world. Kraft Foods estimates that more than 500 billion Oreos have been sold since 1912." Changing punctuation = NOT copying. Kids, take note.

— I believe I am personally responsible for eating at least 1.5 billion of those Oreos, which puts me second on the All-Time Cookie Eater leader board behind, of course, the Cookie Monster. Oddly enough, I’ve never looked at them closely enough to realize that each cookie has a pattern that contains 12 flowers, 12 dots and 12 dashes. What that proves, I think, is that the cookies don’t stay in my hand long enough for me to get a good look at what’s on them.

HA! He eats large quantities of food. Funny. There's an entire, massive paragraph later based solely around this joke, but adds the fact that he drinks a lot of milk to the mix. Double HA!

— Market research reveals that 84 percent of men ate the cookies whole while 41 percent of women pulled the cookie apart.

Per the story: "...market research found that while 84 percent of men ate the cookie whole, 41 percent of women pulled the cookie apart.".

Count me among the 84 percent. I just ate a bunch last weekend and didn’t pull any of them apart. Of course, I’m pretty sure I am practicing the wrong technique there. Even though the women represent only a 41 percent minority of puller-aparters, it’s likely that we men have been doing it all wrong for the past 100 years.

What in hell is he saying here, exactly? Obviously he's doing his usual "men are stupid" thing, but does that mean that 59% of women are also stupid? Does he think that 41% of the entire population, who happen to all be women, pull the Oreo apart? If so, what happened to the 16% of men who do? Really, if Borsch ever reads this (and I know he does), I hope he explains what he was going for.

— Apparently nobody has been credited with coming up with the Oreo idea. However, Ms. Tousey, the “Oreo historian,” believes the name came from combining the “re” in “crème” and the two “o’s” in “chocolate.” I don’t mean to be critical, but that seems like a pretty thin theory for someone with the exulted title of “Oreo historian.” That cookie needs a better backstory.

Borsch says "apparently" because, per the story: "No one has been credited with coming up with the Oreo idea". Tousey's theory about the origin of the name is practically word-for-word, too.

— In 1921, the Oreo biscuit became the Oreo sandwich. In 1937, the name changed to the Oreo crème sandwich. I had no idea is was a biscuit or a sandwich and I’m still not sure why the original bakery — the National Biscuit Co. out of Manhattan — didn’t just name the cookie “The Best Dadgummed Cookie You’ll Ever Dunk in a Glass of Milk.” That certainly could have made for a better backstory if you ask me.

It's been a long time since he's used "dadgummed." And how exactly does a different name for the cookie create a "better backstory"?

— The popular cookie — its Facebook page currently has more than 25 million fans — has had five design changes and been marketed by three companies: the aforementioned National Biscuit Co., which became Nabisco, and now Kraft Foods. I remember is mostly as a Nabisco product.

"I remember is mostly"? Some executive editors didn't proofread!

According to company officials, a limited-edition Oreo with a confetti-sprinkled crème center that tastes like birthday cake has been unveiled for the 100th birthday of the cookie. Swell. Now I have to buy more cookies and milk.

Borsch does a good job of exactly repeating the wire service story again: "...a limited edition cookie with a confetti-sprinkled creme center that tastes like birthday cake."

Now, there might not be anything strictly wrong with repeating your source material word-for-word for the majority of your own column (although I doubt it). But it's further evidence that our favorite author is lazy, slipshod, and unoriginal - and unwilling to admit to it.

Given the history and popularity of the Oreo, it’s little wonder that it has lasted this long. The cookie has become part of the American fabric.

Which, of course, makes it a fitting topic for the next political debate. It’s about time our politicians started talking about something really important — like the best cookies of our time.

... What? Pathetic, sir. Truly a pathetic attempt to frame your copy-and-paste "column" within the context of the primaries (and how in the world he thinks the two topics should even be tenuously tied together is beyond me).

A reader posting under the name of "Kelly Simmons" left the following comment on Borsch's column: Yummy post! I fear for the future of the Republic.

Material Copied from Website

OUTTA LEFTFIELD: The line between smart and stupid continues to be blurred
Published: Wednesday, May 18, 2011
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor

Exibit A: "Outta Leftfield."

The line between smart and stupid has become increasingly more blurred the past few years. And I’m not referring to just in the political arena.

Gee, to what could he be referring? Hint: he's certainly not calling Obama stupid.

For example, there is the website www.stupid.com, which has been mentioned in this space before.

It has? Is that Borsch's domain name or something?

It features categories like senior gags, office gags, drinking gags, kitchen gags, holiday gags, funny hats and something called the “Poop Shop,” which offers nearly 30 doo-related items. There’s a lot of gagging going on there, and rightfully so, I might add.

For a guy supposedly so grossed out by poop, he finds a way to focus on it in quite a few of his columns.

It’s both stoo and pid. And the folks who run the website realize that by not taking themselves or their products seriously at all.

Is "both stoo and pid" supposed to be funny?

But then I happened across an article titled “Wow, that’s smart!” which was touting some inventions that might make one exclaim, “I wish I’d thought of that!”

Hey, stupid or smart, I’ve had many of those “I wish I’d thought of that!” moments over the course of my life. The closest I’ve ever come to inventing anything, though, was in college in 1978 when I pioneered the “co-ed toga,” a simple bedsheet-turned-toga-for-two inspired by the combination of being 18 and the exposure to mass quantities of alcohol and 18-year-old women. My parents were so proud.

Yet another reference to "coming up with an idea because of beer," a common theme here. And I seriously doubt he "pioneered" that idea.

But hey, going to college in Iowa in the 1970s required us to be creative thinkers because there really wasn’t much else to do, despite the popularity of cow-tipping.

Growing up in the mid-west! WOW! This material is so fresh you can smell it.

Among the smart ideas touted in the aforementioned article were something called “Coffee Joulies,” stainless steal beans about the size of an egg that one puts into a cup of coffee to instantly cool it to a drinkable temperature. I always thought those were called ice cubes.

I don't know what's dumber, the Coffee Joulies or the ice cube remark. You'd think one would displace so much fluid it would spill, and why heat something up just to put ice cubes in it to cool it down?

Another is called a “Cool Wazoo,” a child-protector pad that has five different uses: in a restaurant high chair, on a swing, in a car seat, in a grocery cart or as a changing pad. It sells for $65. I think when my kids were little I used a towel, which means one is spending $65 for the admittedly cool name of the product.

He used a towel as a restaurant high chair and car seat? Impressive. I'm starting to see why none of Borsch's "great ideas" have panned out.

One of the “Wow, that’s smart!” product ideas isn’t really a product at all, which doesn’t necessarily disqualify it from being a smart idea.

This is known as "logic." All smart product ideas are smart ideas, but not all smart ideas are necessarily product ideas.

It’s called the “Poor Man’s Drycleaning” and is accompanied by a picture of a guy with his nose in his armpit. It might be the first recorded image in history of a guy with his nose in his armpit illustrating what’s being called a good idea.

I understand neither the idea itself, nor Borsch's little comment after.

The theory behind this is more along the lines of a home remedy. (Note: Women would never do this, but that is not an automatic disqualifier for guys.)

This is also "logic." Women are not men; therefore an activity that excludes women does not necessarily exclude men as well.

We’ve all seen a guy pick a shirt out of the laundry basket, stick it up to his nose, shrug his shoulders like it’s not too wrinkled and doesn’t smell that bad, and then pull it on over his head. (For the record, I am not one of those guys, which is one of my few redeeming qualities.)

I believe Jeff Foxworthy did this exact routine. The originality here is astounding.

It turns out that those who like to wear their shirts more than once before laundering can make the shirt smell fresh and clean by pouring a little vodka and water into a spray bottle and then spritzing the shirt with the mixture. Once it dries, the garment is good to go. Who said bartenders don’t come up with any good ideas?

I understand the idea now. Please note that we're waist-deep in a "someone else's amusing story I read on the Internet" column.

According to the information in the story, this is a common trick used by Broadway actors so that the costumes don’t have to be dry-cleaned after every performance. Also — and this is big-star product endorsement territory — “Joan Rivers swears by it. So does Madonna.”

I wonder how many paragraphs he has started with "according to" in his "writing" career. They probably number in the thousands.

I was wrong. Apparently women would do something like this to their clothes. Seriously, Joan, can we talk? And Madonna, is that anyway to express yourself?

In this context, it should be "any way," not "anyway." Idiot.

So here’s what we’ve got: The smart ideas include “Coffee Joulies,” the “Cool Wazoo” and the “Poor Man’s Drycleaning” theory. The stupid ideas include anything to do with poo.

Back to poop! I had no idea being a published columnist was so easy. You go to a website, copy the information on said website, and presto! Your column is done.

See how difficult it is to tell the smart from the stupid? Maybe I ought to think about bringing back the co-ed toga idea.

I like how he found these ideas on a website called "stupid.com," and his point is that they're stupid ideas. Hey, at least he TRIED to be funny this time and didn't just summarize random events from his weekend.

Compare and Contrast

Dan May’s a ‘Dying Breed’ but very much alive and well: Latest CD recorded in Spring House.
John Conahan to open show at Plays & Players.
Published: Tuesday, May 10, 2011
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor

We've already had a column about Dan May, but I guess you can never get too much of a good thing. As this isn't a true "Outta Leftfield," I'm going to skip around to the best material.

Dan May’s new CD “Dying Breed” features the song “Paradise,” which turns out to be something a little different from what the title suggests.

He says one thing but means another? GENIUS!

The lyrics of the song feature things like America’s addiction to corn syrup, the manipulation practiced by pharmaceutical companies, global warming, plastic surgery, the use of the attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder-treating drug Ritalin and swipes at Fox News, Facebook, the banking industry and bailout and even the Catholic Church.

Aw, man! If he had just thrown in a stab at Sara Palin he'd have just about every liberal cliche in the book! Please note: Borsch will have nothing but praise for May (despite his heavily political material). Contrast this with his reaction to Dennis Miller's more right-wing approach.

Some description of paradise, huh?

“There’s a real connecting thread from song to song,” said May, the Philadelphia singer-songwriter, about his fourth full CD, recorded at MorningStar Studios in Spring House. “It’s a look back at the good old days that maybe weren’t as good as we thought they were.

How original.

An Americana-folk-tinged troubadour whose soft voice and thought-provoking lyrics have graced the region for the past several years, May said he continues to evolve and grow as a singer and songwriter and that “Dying Breed” is evidence of that.

Better be careful there, sir - all that drooling you're doing might short out your keyboard! So no remarks about how you didn't like May's newer music because it's so political? No asides about his height?

The original plan included premiering the video at the CD release party, but it isn’t completed yet. Those attending the soiree, however, will get an idea of what the finished product will look like as a “making of the video” short movie will be playing on a loop on a flat-screen television throughout the evening and after-party.

So the after-party doesn't take place during "the evening"?

May said he chose Plays and Players Theatre as the venue for the CD release party because he prefers theater shows as opposed to clubs and coffeehouses.

“The audience comes in with higher expectations and the experience is better in general,” said May, who had his last CD release party at the Academy of Vocal Arts in Philadelphia, where he had graduated from opera training. “It’s a beautiful old theater [Plays and Players] and it’s in a very cool section of the city, right off Rittenhouse Square.”

I included this section to emphasize what a clumsy writer Borsch is. The [Plays and Players] is only necessary because of how awkward and convoluted the structure of his sentence is. What I find strange is that Borsch probably added those brackets to try and clarify his point - instead of re-writing it to eliminate the confusion altogether.

May, who has used studio musicians on some of his past CDs but used his regular band members on “Dying Breed,” anticipates that his already established fan base will like this album.

What does the fact that he's not using studio musicians have to do with the rest of that paragraph? Really, can you slip these little asides in anywhere you please? "May, who drips hot candle wax on his genitals to achieve satisfaction, thinks the release party will be a hit."

“I call this one organic and Americana, which are words I throw out there when I don’t know what I’m talking about,” he quipped. “Americana to me, it’s not country and it’s not folk but it has those influences. It’s that kind of American sound with a touch of folk.

... But I thought it wasn't folk. Didn't he just say that in the previous sentence? It's not folk, but it has a touch of folk.

Fort Washington resident John Conahan, who teaches music at Wissahickon High School, will open for May at the CD release party. Known for his audience interaction, Conahan’s award-winning songs have been featured on television, in film and promotional campaigns as well on syndicated radio programs. He is a regular at the Tin Angel, the World Café Live, the Living Room, the National Underground, Rockwood Music Hall and the Kimmel Center for the Performing Arts in Philadelphia.

BOOM. The end.

If you can't say anything nice...

Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Miller time at The Keswick

"Miller time." How original.

Dennis Miller wasn’t as tall as I thought he would be. But he’s got a great smile and laugh, and he seemed genuinely flattered that people wanted to meet him and get a picture taken with him last week prior to his show at the Keswick Theater.

So by this logic... a short person is less likely to smile, laugh and be flattered? If Miller had been taller, the fact that he was cheerful and friendly wouldn't have been a surprise?

I was fortunate to be among a group of about 20 people who got the opportunity to shake Miller’s hand that evening. He introduced himself to each person individually with a “Hi, I’m Dennis,” almost like we didn’t know who he was.

Wow, shaking hands! The true hallmark of a gracious celebrity. And we already know he took the unheard-of step of posing for photographs.

There was some brief backstage banter before Miller suggested we all go out on stage and take the pictures, with the Keswick seats steadily filling about 15 minutes before show time serving as the backdrop.

That was a poorly-written sentence. Keep in mind, this man makes a living on his presumed skill with the English language.

Unfortunately, the pre-show stage lighting — a kind of a dark blue — played havoc with my photos and they all came out with a dark blue tint, making the images almost indistinguishable, even when using a flash. I wonder if any of the other folks with cameras had the same problem.

Well, that last paragraph might have been completely uninteresting and unnecessary, but at least it was jam-packed with madcap humor!

As for the show, I didn’t laugh as much as I would have liked, but not because Miller wasn’t funny. Between watching his last HBO special and the phone call interview I had with him to preview the appearance, much of it was repeat information.

Yeah, isn't it boring having to see the same material over and over again? The same jokes and puns? Imagine how your readers must feel, sir.

In fact, at the end of the interview, I had asked him what the Keswick crowd could expect at a Dennis Miller show. “This phone call for about an hour,” he said.
And that’s what it turned out to be. One can’t quibble that Dennis Miller didn’t deliver the kind of show that he had promised to deliver.

A good writer - or editor - would have replaced that clumsy second "deliver" with "he would" or something of that nature.

He is very hesitant to say good things about Miller. When he does, he adds a caveat. Miller was friendly - but short. He was funny - but not up to Borsch's high expectations. Borsch isn't coming right out and saying so, but Miller's conservative politics are the root cause.

One other observation: Political humor is a tough gig right now, given the polarization in our country.

I knew it! He couldn't resist.

I grew up with the humor of George Carlin, who I thought was both funny and brilliant. But in the latter part of his career, Carlin became more political and more anti-government, anti-religion and just about anti-everything. And it just wasn’t as funny as his other stuff.

Miller's humor has always had political elements - "Weekend Update," anyone? The only difference is a shift from left to right.

Miller strikes me as being on a similar path. His stories about taking his mother to meet Frank Sinatra, the shenanigans during his stint as a Monday Nigh Football commentator and the craziness that was the early days of Saturday Night Live were all enjoyable and funny bits. The political stuff, not so much.

Because you don't agree with it. It's okay - I find it hard to laugh at Carlin and his ilk. But just admit it. The disappointment Borsch felt over Miller's swing to the right is palpable in each column he's written, but he keeps trying to weasel out of it.

Maybe the comedians haven’t changed over the years. Maybe it’s the politics that just isn’t funny anymore.

So Carlin never made any Nixon jokes? Never did any bits on Reagan? Morsch doesn't crack wise about Trump and revel in the wit of Keith Olbermann? Please.

To summarize this story by paragraph:

Meeting Dennis (he was short) - 2 paragraphs
Taking pictures (poor lighting) - 2 paragraphs
Show wasn't very funny - 2 paragraphs
Political humor wasn't funny - 4 paragraphs

So what, in his mind, was the true thrust of this post? By the way, none of the paragraphs contained a joke.

Labels: Dennis Miller, Keswick Theater, Mike Morsch, Montgomery Newspapers, Outta Leftfield

Media Bias Ahoy!

Per a Borsch Twitter preview for a news story:

Rep. Josh Shapiro and Leslie Richards kick off the Dem campaign fo Montco commish. They're gonna win, you know.

Nice to see that our newspaper group editor maintains his journalistic neutrality, isn't it? Only a liberal douche like Borsch would flaunt his political bias so brazenly.

Sadly, he's right. Montgomery County PA has gone from Republican bastion to Democrat cesspool in one generation. Why? Because the vast majority of the GOP leadership share a number of similar traits:

1.) Old. These guys make Kirk Douglas look youthful. They have an undertaker on 24-hour standby. Their biggest special interest group is Depends Undergarments.

2.) White. Country-club white. Finding a black Republican in Montco is like finding a sober Irishman in March.

3.) Aggressively Passive. The idiots do nothing, and they're hostile about it. They don't do outreach because it wears out the batteries of their Rascals.

Update: He Still Hates Palin

Russia gets 2018 World Cup. Does that mean that Sister Sarah now has a front row seat from her porch?
about 22 hours ago via web

Nothing beats years-old references to out-of-context quotes.

@KeithOlbermann Russia gets 2018 World Cup. Does that mean that Sister Sarah now has a front row seat from her porch?
about 22 hours ago via web in reply to KeithOlbermann

Nothing beats sucking up to a pompous twit who nobody watches.

@billmaher Before you leave Peoria, go to an Italian place called Avanti's and order a "gondola." And bring one back to Philly for me.
about 14 hours ago via web in reply to billmaher

Nothing beats living up to every single stereotype of the modern newspaperman (dumb, hopelessly liberal, and thinking that celebrities are your personal friends).

Case in Point

The Phils are getting ready to play so the Tood Palin email hoo-ha with the other jamoke is insignificant. Just like Todd's wife.
about 1 hour ago via web

Use of the Morsch standard "jamoke"? Check.

Orienting entire life around a baseball game? Check.

Hatred of Palin? Check.

For someone so "insignificant," I think Morsch has devoted more space in his Twitter account to Palin than any other human being.

Morsch Uses Two Jokes

Women attracted to men who cut a rug more than those who wear one
Published: Tuesday, October 05, 2010
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor

I'm surprised that he references a toupee, since he himself doesn't wear one. This is going to be one of those self-deprecating columns about how Morsch is a clumsy boob and can't dance, spills things, etc. It's also a bit of a shock that he's doing a full-length column rather than a blog post on a Tuesday.

A new study reveals that women are more attracted to men who have a wide array of dance moves, which only reinforces the notion that I should consider myself lucky that I already have a wife.

Or so we're told. Any confirmation that this quote unquote wife is actually real?

Now if women were attracted to men who stomped on their open-toed shoes when dancing, then I would near the top of the list and women would be lined up around the block for the opportunity to cut a rug with me.

Ah, Morsch, ya big galloot! This "humor" doesn't even work in a printed column - imagining reading it out loud and trying to get a laugh. That's two uses of the phrase "cut a rug" so far.

By the way, according to the website wisegeek.com, there are several theories surrounding the origin of the slang phrase “cut a rug.”

That's three. Have history's great humor writers regularly relied on internet research for so much of their material?

The most reasonable suggests that skilled dancers who danced so well that they wore out the carpet were said to have “cut a rug” or “cut a mean rug.”

Four. And DUH.

I could find no slang phrase for stomping on the toes of one’s dance partner, so I can only rely on personal experience here to coin a phrase based on what I’ve heard in the past, something along the lines of, “Hey jerkweed, we’re not making wine here. We’re trying to dance!”

Wow, apparently the people Morsch steps on are even less funny than he is. And that's the second "I step on feet while dancing" joke.

Somehow, I don’t think that’s gonna catch on like “cut a rug.”

Five.

But alas, the older I get, the less I can dance. This would concern me if I was actually able to dance when I was younger.

Not that I didn’t try. There is a color slide of me at about age 3, dancing in my undershorts next to the record player. It appears I may have been doing a version of The Twist, given the contortions of my body, captured forever in that image.

Can I take this opportunity to say how much I hate the word "undershorts"? I've never heard anyone else say that, and it strikes me as obnoxiously archaic.

(Remember color slides? My dad, like all the other dads from that era, used to take color slides of everything. It seemed highly entertaining at the time for adults to get out the projector and screen, turn out the lights, and view slides from the vacation to Pike’s Peak or kids dancing in their undershorts. It could not have been more boring to me as a youngster.)

Wow, that was one long and pointless aside. Gotta fill up that blank space somehow, I guess.

I believe I danced a little bit in high school in an attempt to attract the girls. Given that I was a jock, I at least had a sense of coordination, and I recall one high school dance my junior year where I thought I actually knew what I was doing on the dance floor.

He was a "jock"? Maybe he means he was a "Jacques," like he belonged to a Jacques Cousteau appreciation society or something.

But subsequent dances proved that I was indeed no John Travolta, as evidenced by the bandaged feet of my then-girlfriend.

There's number three.

By the time I got to college, alcohol had been introduced into the dancing equation, at about the same time that Travolta introduced us to flamboyant moves and white suits. That proved to be a winning combination for me in the dancing department as I became adept on the disco dance floor. Fortunately, there were no cell phone video cameras back then and there is no evidence to the contrary, so I’m sticking with that story.

But wait - he's saying that in college, booze and Travolta appeared at the same time and he became "adept" at dancing. Yet when he was a Junior in high school, he had already proved that he was "indeed no John Travolta." So what's the true story?

As an adult, I did once win an American Legion dance hall contest with my first wife. But it was a fluke.

What was, the dance contest or your marriage?

We were living in a remote rural area of southern Iowa at the time and I believe our only competition in the contest were a cow and a couple of chickens. As I recall, our winning dance moves including stepping lightly around that dance floor.

... Okay.

I never really knew how much I couldn’t dance until actual proof was presented to me sometime in the mid-1990s.

Except that dance in your Junior year, when you yourself realized that you couldn't.

We had taken a trip to DisneyWorld and for those of you who have been there, you know that there is always happy music playing in the theme parks while the Disney characters roam the grounds, posing for pictures.

In every photo — me with Tigger, me with Donald, me with Goofy — there I am pointing my index finger skyward, just like Travolta in “Saturday Night Fever.” Well, at least I didn’t have my finger in my nose when the camera was around. Guess I should have stuck to dancing The Twist in my underwear.

Absolutely disgusting. A nose-picking joke, and another reference to Morsch as a child in his underwear.

Nowadays, my dancing experience is limited to twirling around in a circle with The Blonde Accountant during slow songs and to watching “Dancing With The Stars.” (I am, however, boycotting DWTS because the professional dancers are bigger stars than some of the wannabe jamokes on this year’s show.)

He's referring to Bristol Palin, obviously. One of the many things that bothers me about Morsch's writing style: his reliance on catch phrases like "jamoke" and "knucklehead" and "undershorts." Like he thinks he's famous enough that their use will delight his legions of fans.

According to the study, men who are bad dancers can improve their chances of attracting women if they work on their core body moves around the head, neck and trunk areas. Just to be clear: Women prefer men who can indeed cut a rug rather than men who wear one.

But the study didn't mention anything about men who wear hairpieces. What if a man who wears one also is a good dancer? Where did Morsch make this connection? Use of "cut a rug" number six, by the way.

But it appears at this age I am past the point of worrying about attracting anything more than enough time to work in a nap.

You can't attract time. This doesn't make any sense.

These days, I should stick with what I know when it comes to dancing, which is, of course, wine-making.

"Stepping on toes" joke number four, folks.

From Twitter:

Christine O'Donnell is not a witch. Really, she isn't.
about 14 hours ago via web

Richard Nixon: "I am not a crook." Christine O'Donnell: "I am not a witch."
10 minutes ago via web

Morsch saves his harshest and most obsessive attacks for female politicians. Interesting, isn't it?

Email Scams = The Tea Party (Apparently)

Monday, September 27, 2010
Email scams? Must be an election year

Uh-oh - the reference to an election year makes me fear that this blog entry will be political in nature. I'm predicting at least one Sarah Palin reference.

It appears that I could be a millionaire several times over if only I would answer unsolicited correspondence from people I don’t know.

Woah, what's the deal with these email scams, huh? Prince of Nigeria, what's up with that? Did Morsch jump in a time machine and make this posting from the year 2002?

A flurry of emails from people with names like Mr. Nyejiowanaka Gogo, Mr. Bangu Mali and Mr. Kabore Umaru have informed me that all I need to do to collect is to provide all my personal information.

See, THEIR names are different than OUR names. Thus, they are hilarious.

Mr. Gogo — a creative enough name but it would have been more believable if he had called himself Mr. Whiskey A. Gogo or Mr. Wakemeupbeforeu Gogo —

We are officially back, people! Classic Morsch ethnocentrism on full display.

is particularly adamant about getting my name, cell phone number, age, sex, occupations, city and country. If I provide that information, I can take home 40 percent of $25 million that was left to him by a relative who died in a plane crash in 2000.

Is this a joke? He couldn't pick a topic more painfully dated if he tried.

Mr. Mali, on the other hand, went so far as to identify the relative in his email, one Andreas Schranner, who along with his wife died in what we left to assume must have been a different plane crash, this one on July 31, 2000.

Up next: Morsch does an in-depth analysis of the comedy of Mr. Jeff Foxworthy!

Neither Mr. Gogo nor Mr. Mali reveal the details of the aforementioned tragedy occurred.

This sentence doesn't make any sense. Where did the "occurred" come from?

(A Google search reveals that Mr. Schranner and his wife did perish in a tragic Concorde plane crash from Germany to New York that killed all 109 people aboard.)

While you're on Google, why don't you run a quick search for "things even remotely topical"?

But Mr. Mali, that shyster, is only offering 35 percent of $10.15 million.
Mr. Umaru is offering a 60/30 split on $10.8 million — again from the same plane crash — but is deducting the remaining 10 percent for his expenses. In addition to all the other personal information, he also wants my address.

Stop, you're killing me. The only way this could get even more gut-bustingly funny is if he printed each email, in its entirety, for us to enjoy.

And then there is Ms. Judy Jones, who would like to give me $1 million pounds from a United Kingdom National Lottery promotion. Ms. Jones isn’t asking for any personal information yet, but apparently I didn’t even have to buy a lottery ticket to win. The winner is chosen through a free email drawing.

Wow, he saw right through this one, didn't he?

These are all fun names being used on old email scams.

Wait, so what's his point? Is it the email scams themselves, or the "fun names" being used? What makes them "fun"?

But apparently some people think other people are stupid and gullible and that’s why these emails keep popping up. And with an election in November — which features a bevy of unqualified mopes and mopettes running for elected offices across several states who have been bamboozling the citizenry — they may just be right.

Aaaah, so we come to the crux of the issue... in the last paragraph. Several issues here:

1.) Urban Dictionary defines a "mope" as "a person of any race or culture that is presenting themselves as uneducated (either by mannerisms or the clothing they are wearing)." The grammar in that definition is so bad I suspect Morsch wrote it himself. That aside, his use of it doesn't make sense.

2.) The blog idea itself is preposterous. We all know you hate the Tea Party, Mr. Morsch.

3.) That Morsch thinks he can criticize anyone for a supposed lack of brains is actually the most amusing thing I've seen in this column. Ever.

Labels: Mike Morsch, Montgomery Newspapers, Outta Leftfield

And a brief Twitter bonus:

That right there folks is why you always take your ballglove to the game.
about 14 hours ago via web

The use of "ballglove" really pisses me off. Morsch loves to say "ballgame" and "ballpark" and such, but now "ballglove"? Where does it stop? Announcers do this too: "If they get another run they're right back in this ballgame." Gee, really? I know what game I'm watching, dumbass, and I know it involves a ball. Now stop it.