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[caption id="attachment_3908" align="alignnone" width="550" caption="At the apex of Tebowmania, a \'halo\' appeared over Mile High Stadium during a playoff game."][/caption] Over the last few weeks the nation has been gripped by the saga of young Tim Tebow, who led the Denver Broncos to the NFL playoffs despite a singular lack of proficiency at throwing the football, normally considered a prerequisite for a quarterback. It was suggested in some quarters that this surprising development might have a supernatural explanation: Tebow is known as much for his religiosity as for his athleticism. So prevalent did the Tebow phenomenon become that it added a new verb to the English language: "to tebow," meaning to kneel and rest one's head on one's fist in a pose of manly supplication. He became the subject of songs, sketches, and innumerable conversations — every sports fan was required to have an opinion. Those of us who are skeptical of the relationship between one's belief in Jesus and success in sports found this annoying. Plain-speaking pundit Charles Barkley called it our "national nightmare." But last week things got weird: Tebow and the Broncos made a very unlikely comeback against the Pittsburgh Steelers, then won the game on an 80-yard touchdown pass on the first play of overtime. Tebow, a big fan of John 3:16, passed for 316 yards, averaging 31.6 yards on 10 completions. So yesterday the Broncos faced the mighty New England Patriots and their quarterback, Golden Boy Tom Brady. Had they been able to pull that one off, it might have been time for me to seriously reevaluate some of what I think about the way the world works. Instead, the Pats beat the Broncos like a red-headed mule, 45–10. This means one of two things: Either Jesus loves Tom Brady more than Tim Tebow (a distinct possibility if you consider Gisele Bundchen), or He does not really get involved in the outcome of football games. In any case, we're unlikely to hear about Tebow quite so much in the next few months, which will be nice.

I was looking for this classic just now and it was distressingly hard to find on the internets. Unacceptable.

Untitled by Steve Martin I have spoken of indigestion and garlic! I have spoken of small round beads! I tell of years untold in somewhat starry cities of light! I am telling Of crowned sparrows and ceilings lights and magnets and flakes and wreckless winters eating cornflowers! I am a fish of the sky! a cloud of the sea! blue is to fish, as sky is to me.

Mr. David Bowie turns 65 today, so now he can officially retire — though he seems to have done so already, with no new album since Reality in 2003. Well, never mind...we got plenty from David...I just hope he is enjoying his Golden Years. Here's an underappreciated Bowie gem from back in the day: 1967, to be exact.

Every New Year's I make the same resolution: Everything I Do Gonh Be Funky (From Now On) And I never keep it. But I have a good feeling about 2012. This may finally be the year.

One of my Christmas presents was a book called Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman, a somewhat intimidating tome that I am tackling on sheer momentum after successfully conquering Anna Karenina over the last few months. Confidence is high but this is exactly the sort of book I start with great enthusiasm and get bogged down in after 95 pages, not unlike Brian Greene's The Fabric of the Cosmos, currently propping up a window in my bedroom. 12 pages in I mostly feel like I'm following what Kahneman (a Nobel prize winner in economics who is very fond of the word "heuristics") is saying. But whether I go the distance or not, here is a sentence that I loved and that seems worth remembering for its own sake:

When faced with a difficult question, we often answer an easier one instead, usually without noticing the substitution.

How is today different from any other day? Because not only is it Christmas Day – when we observe the birthday of the man who, in the words of Douglas Adams, "said how great it would be to be nice to everyone for a change" – it is the first day of the NBA season. There were there five games back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back, but I have been pacing myself because for some inexplicable reason the nightcap features My Golden State Warriors hosting the L.A. Clippers. I only had a couple drinks today, so I'm pretty sure I didn't imagine Justin Bieber singing "Little Drummer Boy" to open the broadcast. I guess this is what it means to be in the big time. As of this writing the W's are beating the Clips 43–41 and it is approaching midnight EST; it's pretty touch-and-go as to whether I will make it all 48 minutes, so...merry NBXmas to all, and to all a good night.

"Many Christmases ago, I went to buy a doll for my son. I reached for the last one they had, but so did another man. As I rained blows upon him, I realized there had to be another way." —Frank Costanza

I am quite fond of the winter solstice, signaling as it does that the days are finally going to start getting longer again. Which is funny, because it also signals the beginning of winter, of which I am not so fond. Conversely, I love the summer, but have bittersweet feelings about the summer solstice, cause it's all downhill from there. You wonder how primitive man must have felt this time of year, with the sun disappearing more and more...and how long it took people to figure out that it was just a cycle, that this happened over and over, that all you had to do was wait and eventually things would start moving back in the other direction. And I also wonder, if I can get all heavy and metaphorical for a minute, why we don't apply this kind of thinking to more areas of life. Cause if there's one thing you can be sure of, it's that whatever life is like now, it's going to be different three months, or six months, or nine months from now. Things are fucked now? They will change. Things are great now? That's not going to last forever. So why worry? Just live as best you can in accordance with the time and wait for the next thing to happen. Thus endeth the sermon.

I just wanted to post this so I would be sure to never ever, lose it. The key line comes 1:13 in: "He's been consistent since he changed his mind." Priceless.

[caption id="attachment_3845" align="alignnone" width="420" caption="Little Drew"][/caption]

• The screenplay of Altered States is credited to Sidney Aaron, a pseudonym for Paddy Chayefsky, who wrote the script based on his own novel but asked that his name be removed from the final product. Janet Maslin had an interesting theory about this: "It's easy to guess why (Chayefsky) and Mr. Russell didn't see eye to eye. The direction, without being mocking or campy, treats outlandish material so matter-of-factly that it often has a facetious ring. The screenplay, on the other hand, cries out to be taken seriously, as it addresses, with no particular sagacity, the death of God and the origins of man."

• This was the first movie for both William Hurt and Drew Barrymore, who was 5 at the time and appears very briefly as one of the Jessup kids. A young John Larroquette has one scene as an X-ray technician. And Hurt's right-hand man is played by the great Bob Balaban, veteran of everything from Midnight Cowboy to Close Encounters of the Third Kind, but perhaps best known as the NBC executive on Seinfeld whose love for Elaine causes him to lose his mind and eventually his life.

• An isolation tank also appears in the tragically underrated Simon, where Alan Arkin plays a philosophy professor who's tricked into believing he's from another planet. IMDB calls Simon's tank scene a "parody" of Altered States, but seeing as both movies were released in 1980 and Altered States came out on Christmas, I don't think that's the case. Perhaps you'd like to judge for yourself? Unfortunately, Simon remains out of print. To the YouTube!

http://youtu.be/PMHWOI2JyR4