In part one of this epic narrative, Jake James found out he was a demigod, gained a brother, lost his dreamgirl, found a new one, and was tasked by Zeus, aka Pablo, with finding the mythical Golden Fleece in order to restore Olympus.

The next five episodes introduce some great plot twists and some of my favorite characters. What started promisingly actually gets better as events accelerate! So let’s do this.

#6: “I Love Lucy and the Shakespeare Shakedown”

“Snapple, Bill? Really, fucking Snapple?”

In this episode, Lucy and Jake get closer while Scarlett and Cal have a tempestuous love/hate scene. I don’t watch “A God Named Pablo” for the romance, but hang in there, because it all becomes pretty integral to the plot. Unless of course you’re a big fan of romance in your web video, in which case you will love this episode.

To me though, this ep is a keeper because of the introduction of Charles Pasternak’s William “Billy” Shakespeare. So THIS is the mysterious Billy we’ve heard so much about.

Now, it seems utterly random to include Shakespeare in a narrative about Greek Gods in Los Angeles, but I enjoy Pasternak’s performance enough that I am completely willing to suspend my skepticism. His delivery of “That sucked!” gets a laugh from me every time.

#7: “The Forgotten Fable”

“Thank you, talking whisky, for being quite obvious.”

This episode introduces a superb creation, the talking whisky glass voiced by Caleb Claxton. I know it doesn’t SOUND that funny, but the way it’s executed is hilarious.

Incidentally, props to Claxton for directing several episodes of AGNP and consulting on several more. He gives the series a distinctive visual feel and pulls off effects on a limited budget without making them look cheesy. Apparently he worked like a madman to shoot several episodes in a dead sprint during an apocalyptic Los Angeles rainstorm. An Olympian effort! Series creator Jeff Hirbour called his contributions “integral” and I can’t help but agree.

And seriously, he is so good as the whisky…or perhaps as another key character yet to be revealed who is only appearing in whisky form??? TEASER y’all.

Also, someone gets thrown off a roof by the minotaur.

#8: “Spandex, Sonnets and a Sexy Sphinx”

“You crawl into people’s brains and you find out all their secrets. That’s how you diddled my girlfriend — come on! We were bros!”

The intrigue continues as the dudes find out that the Renaissance Hotel is the portal to Medusa’s realm, where the fleece is stashed. There’s a solid bro-session followed by a riddling sesh with a Sphinx. Plus two of the best characters, Hermes and Aphrodite, join the chase at Pablo’s request.

One thing you can’t take away from these guys, they are great at executing binge-drinking montages.

#9: “The Four”

“That’s gonna get really annoying.”

More sweet DIY effects in this one, especially the presentation of the Stone Men who beat down anyone who trespasses into Medusa’s lair. The cinder block shattering over the dome of the bearded one is pretty awesome.

Another great Zeus/Pablo scene — I really enjoy Scott Hartman in this — but is it beyond nerdy to quibble with the suggestion that Zeus, Hera, Poseidon and Hades were “the four” central Olympian gods? Where’s Demeter, Apollo, and Athena? And is Hades even a true Olympian?? Actually, forget that I said anything. I’m so ashamed of my pedantry right now.

In other news, Cheryl Texiera as the Sphinx cracks me up. Her delivery of “I have a van” is a brilliant line reading.

#10: “Perfecter”

“The Green…I’m A Stupid Boring Jerk!”

I know I said this last time, but Tom MacDonald is so funny as the minotaur. His performance in the stakeout scene is awesome. Even behind a mask, makeup or whatever that is, he brings out an amazing personality. His unrequited affection for Megan Sullivan (Laurie Scott) is a great running subplot.

One of the key scenes in this episode is a flashback to the early days of the Scarlett/Cal romance. I initially had a little trouble here because I’m completely anti the cupcake trend that features so prominently. (And it took me a little while to get into “shipping” these two because of the actress change midway through the series, apparently prompted by the original Scarlett departing LA.) That said, Jeff Holden’s Cal and Virginia Welch’s S.C. are very likable characters, entertainingly portrayed by winning performers. By the end of this episode, I was on board. Sure hope these two crazy kids can work it out.

By the way, HUGE plot twist in this episode! I did not see this coming whatsoever!

All this buildup sets the stage for what is sure to be a cataclysmic finale.

Next week, I’ll have the final two episodes of “A God Named Pablo” for your enjoyment!

In the meantime, you can find out more (and watch episode 11 if you simply can’t wait) at their Facebook page.

Thoughout the centuries, artists and writers have turned to Greek mythology for inspiration. Recently, a group of filmmakers and actors in Los Angeles led by Jeff Hirbour have done the same, with superlative results.

In A God Named Pablo, the Olympian gods descend on Los Angeles when a portal briefly opens, offering them the opportunity to obtain the mythic Golden Fleece. There, they reveal to Jake James, the everyman protagonist, that he’s actually half god. And the hijinks begin.

While I haven’t totally figured out the plot yet, its clever twists and turns have kept me completely engrossed. AGNP features a gang of talented and entertaining actors who bring every scene to life and turn even the most preposterous scenario into an occasion for laughs. Hirbour’s entertaining scripts are complemented by quality production values. This is a cut above the usual web series.

I highly recommend that you check it out.

The series stars Jake Brown as Jake James, who begins the series as a dorky Los Angeles wannabe without much going for him and zero game with the ladies. But once he meets his half-brother Cal Carr (Jeff Holden), he finds out that his dad was actually the Greek God Zeus. Pretty soon, Jake is chilling with deities, jumping through portals, exploring his powers of indestructibility, and even upping his pimp game. THE HERO’S JOURNEY y’all!

These kind of tales live and die by their lead actors, and Brown is perfectly cast as the naive and upstanding Jake James. His half-brother Cal is an alcoholic DB with a heart of gold who schools him in the ways of the gods, despite making off with his dream girl Scarlett Ray (Virginia Welch).

These two embark upon an epic quest that brings them face to face with a variety of entertaining characters, while they try to carry out the wishes of their dad Zeus — or as he likes to be called these days, Pablo.

#1: “Of Minotaurs and Men”

“This feels like LA. Big flavor of desperation in the air. Also, I can see the Capitol Records building from here…”

At the series’ outset, Jake is taking Scarlett (played in the early episodes by Elizabeth Holcomb) out on what he thinks is their first big date, oblivious to his location deep behind the lines of the Friend Zone. As he proceeds to humiliate himself by giving her a gift of frosting shots, a minotaur bails him out with a sneak attack. He takes an epic beating before Cal shows up to intercede, kind of.

As exciting as it is to find out that he’s a demigod and meet his unknown brother, Jake learns to his dismay that Scarlett used to smash the homie.

#2: “The Last Sons of Zeus”

“Mother is many things. Beautiful? Yes…intoxicating. Faithful? No.”

The second episode is heavy on exposition but it introduces some key characters like Megan Sullivan (Laurie Scott), who harbors an unrequited crush on her roommate Jake, and consequently spends a lot of time player-hating on Scarlett.

Megan turns out to work for the highly memorable villain, Sebastian Eros (Bryant Romo), who’s spent centuries playing Cupid and now seeks the Golden Fleece as the key to Olympian power.

Eros is a millionaire matchmaker with a dashing air and a fondness for alliteration (I feel that, bro). He’s in cahoots with his mother, Aphrodite (the superbly well-cast Aurelia Scheppers) and the minotaur, whose name turns out to be Tori (Tom MacDonald). There’s no shortage of scheming from this posse!

#3: “Action and Opinion”

“UPS can suck on my balls.”

Episode 3 starts off magnificently by introducing Thomas Bigley as Hermes, the profane and debauched messenger of the gods. The dude delivers “Fuck off!” with a singular charm.

We also encounter Scott Hartman as Pablo (aka Zeus) hanging out in a sort of Ghetto Olympus with Aphrodite and her posse of sorority girls. Hartman’s world-weary yet intense performance as the leader of the gods is one of the standouts in Jeff Hirbour’s excellent ensemble.

And I’m just gonna put it out there, every scene with Aphrodite in it is good. Na mean?

So, the plot thickens. Pablo wants the dudes to find the fleece. Cal continues to clash with everyone he encounters, while Jake begins to accept his place in the Olympian drama. The quest is on!

#4. “Hold My Sword”

“Did you really have to put a knife on the end of the arrow?”

In the fourth episode, the boys drink for 10 days straight, and Cal whales on Jake to test the extent of his indestructibility. Meanwhile, Sebastian Eros convinces Megan to join the dark side of the force.

There’s a well-executed binge drinking montage that benefits a great deal from the musical stylings of composer Bear McCans. In fact, AGNP is packed with fine, original soundtrack work. It’s a rare treat in the age of copyright piracy.

Also, Tom MacDonald’s minotaur character gets better with every episode…

#5: “Doorman for 10,000 Days”

“Apparently being a god isn’t enough when you can be all intense and broody, and grow a sweet Commander Riker beard.”

With Virginia Welch making her first appearance as Scarlett in place of Holcomb, we learn more about her past with Cal, including some side action that Scarlett got with the as-yet-unseen Billy, who has been mysteriously referenced throughout the last couple of episodes.

Some of Cal’s shit talking about Billy hit a little too close to home for this viewer: “So he wrote a couple plays, a few poems. Now he blogs about the Jersey Shore.” I see nothing wrong with that!

Meanwhile, Jenny Ashman appears as Lucy in a highly winning performance; she’s an attractive, available doctor/real estate agent who quickly develops a crush on Jake. Love interest alert! Ten bucks says she gets kidnapped by the bad guy before this is all over.

Back in Ghetto Olympus, Zeus/Pablo is bugging out over the years-old disappearance of his wife/sister, Hera. Too bad the other gods are too busy causing mischief and plotting against him to give him an assist on that.

If you aren’t hooked by now, then I cannot help you, you are a lost cause. For those of you with taste, I’ll return soon with another set of eps of “A God Named Pablo,” in which we finally meet Billy, get riddled by the Sphinx, and hear from the best talking-booze character in the history of Youtube.

If you’re desperate for another AGNP fix in the meantime, however, check them out on Facebook.

Maybe you heard the rumors. One celebrity banging another…nothing special, really. Sure, one of ‘em was a married woman and the other one was a notorious cocksman, but what else is new in Los Angeles.

The stories began in blind-item format on the niche gossip blogs, then migrated to the national blogs. Gossip hounds like me took our turns guessing at the identities of the people involved, but nobody knew for sure who the principals were.

Then one of the name-brand tabloids took it to the next level. They splashed the rumor across their cover, naming and shaming the people involved. Angry denials were issued by the married celebrity, but the tabloid stood by its story.

What happened next was never printed anywhere, until now — and it’s the most shocking part of the whole tale.

Recently, I was contacted by a reliable source with excellent contacts within the gossip industry. He told me the inside story behind the married celebrity’s showdown with the tabloid. I can’t go into too many details here, but suffice it to say that his story was explosive.

Here’s what I can share. When the reports came out about this lusty lady’s extracurricular activities, she vehemently denied them to her husband, her management and anyone else that would listen. She ordered her legal representation to throw down, and they contacted the tabloid to threaten a lawsuit.

The tabloid replied coolly that they had four different sources who saw the married celebrity and her lothario lover circling each other at a posh hotel lounge, hooking up together in a secluded nook, then sneaking off to a hotel room together, pawing each other all the way. A couple of hours later, she was observed leaving the scene of the crime looking quite rumpled indeed.

Moreover, another source reported that the lady in question was later heard boasting of her exploits over a meal with a galpal.

Her discretion had been less than exemplary, to say the least.

This mountain of evidence didn’t faze her legal team, who continued to protest on behalf of their client. She had a family and business interests to protect, and demanded a retraction.

So the tabloid pulled out its trump card.

As my source explained, the tabloid benefited in this case not just from its sources who saw the affair go down, but from an illicit practice largely unknown to the public but well-known in the gossip world:

“They work with a source who is in the hotel industry and he does some very illegal video work (spy cam) when celebs are staying with them. This person has never been instructed by the magazines to shoot video on anyone because of the risk of criminal prosecution. He chooses to do this on his own. What happens is the magazine will look at the video and, in a covert way, have someone not affiliated with the magazine purchase the video and keep it under wraps, usually for $100,000 or more.

The reason for this is to keep a celebrity under their thumb. Maybe that celeb can provide some dirt on other celebs. Or maybe they can force the celeb to work with one of the other publications owned by the parent company…like, say, a few lifestyle pieces or something of that nature in the future.”

The tape in question showed our “happily married” heroine smashing a non-celebrity, on another occasion entirely. Every position in the Kama Sutra was on display and the supposedly family-friendly celebrity was revealed to have a truly filthy repertoire of utterances. According to our source, this was a Jekyll-and-Hyde type of deal, in which the usually classy celebrity frolicked like a paid professional in the sack.

Not only was this a sex tape for the ages, but after the deed was done, the celebrity declaimed on her history of illicit bonetime with a variety of other people, including celebrities and no-names. Put it this way: if you saw this tape, you’d never view the celebrity in the same light again.

The tabloid obtained this tape in advance of running its explosive story — it actually won a bidding war with another tabloid in order to do so. And with this tape in hand, they made a threat that forced the lawyers to back down.

“You want to sue us?” the tabloid asked? “Sounds great, we’ll put your client on the stand and question her in detail about every one of her affairs.” They sent along a little snippet of their video evidence to drive the point home.

Within an hour, the celebrity’s representatives had abandoned all talk of a lawsuit.

Instead, they were hard at work on a deal that would bring the celebrity on board to be featured in — and maybe even do some guest-editing for — one of the lifestyle magazines owned by the tabloid’s parent company.

(No, it’s not Kate Beckinsale. Unfortunately.)

So consider this a warning, married celebrities.

If you opt to bone outside your marriage, and you don’t want anyone to find out about it, avoid hotel room trysts.

You never know who might be watching.

In the world of sports, it’s obviously critical to have the best possible players on your team in order to win.

It’s essential to have the right coaches and trainers on board, to help those players do their best, and to put them in a position to triumph.

It’s vital to have the right management team in charge: scouting, hiring, and acquiring the players and coaches that a team needs to be successful.

All those things are important, clearly. But without principled, moneyed ownership to pay all the bills, choose the right lieutenants to call the shots, and provide all the ingredients to make the championship pie — without sticking their fingers into it as it’s cooling — a sports team will be hard-pressed to win championships.

That’s why Frank and Jamie McCourt’s ownership of the Los Angeles Dodgers has been a complete and utter disgrace.

This pair of Beantown parking lot magnates flew cross-country to purchase one of baseball’s greatest franchises in 2003. They’ve since given themselves full West Coast makeovers, and their egos have ballooned up to Hollywood standards.

For reference, this is what they used to look like:

The McCourts have used the Dodgers as their own personal cash cow and id vehicle, acquiring washed-up Red Sox players and dealing away top prospects for cash as they go on ridiculous spending sprees and jet around the country in Gulfstream IVs.

Now the McCourts are getting divorced, and feuding like children for all to see.

The resulting fallout could cripple the franchise, because neither is rich enough to own the team in the aftermath of a costly split, let alone invest the money the Dodgers need to get stronger.

Of course, they don’t care a whit about that, because Frank and Jamie McCourt are narcissistic boobs.

ROTI issued our first takedown of the McCourts last offseason, when we accused them of pinching pennies and not doing what it took to bring back stars Manny Ramirez and Rafael Furcal.

Those jerks shut us up by getting both players under contract. The Dodgers got out to a great start, won the NL West (not without a fight, though), and made it to the playoffs.

However, before the team was even eliminated, Frank McCourt fired Jamie from her position as CEO of the Dodgers, accusing her of insubordination and an inappropriate relationship with an employee!

Jamie retorted, “You can’t fire me – I OWN this team!”

This immediately kick started a divorce court battle that centered around the question “Who owns the Dodgers?”

Major League Baseball insists that one controlling owner be determined for each franchise, and in this regard, Frank McCourt is the owner of the Dodgers. He’s also got Jamie’s signature on a document to that effect.

However, it seems possible that the team is part of the couple’s community property, and thus subject to 50/50 division in California divorce court.

Further complicating matters is that the team was purchased in a highly leveraged deal. The McCourts were never that wealthy to begin with (by sports team ownership standards).

A new blog called Dodger Divorce, written by Joshua Fisher, has done a brilliant job of breaking down the couple’s purchase of the team. It concludes a wrapup of the evidence with these damning statements:

So, if you’re counting at home, the above adds up to $421 million in financing…for a $371 million purchase. That, friends, is a little scary….

We know that the McCourts aren’t worth anything close to the $1.2 billion Jamie suggests. At most, the couple seems to have something approaching $750 million in total net worth ($400 million in “other assets plus ~$350 million in equity in the Dodgers). However, it is my guess, based on the loan balances due on the residences and their history of operating heavily-leveraged businesses, that the couple’s net worth is under $600 million.

If the team is determined to be an asset of the marriage, either partner would have to become heavily leveraged to take the other out. If no agreement can be reached and the court orders the Dodgers to be sold to a third party, expect a bit of a discount on the purchase price, leaving both McCourts with even less…

What I really want to emphasize is that the McCourts aren’t worth as much as you think, and breaking up this marriage is going to cost them both dearly.

Not only that, but it’s going to cost the Dodgers dearly.

If you want evidence, just take a day trip south, where the San Diego Padres have suffered immensely after their owner, John Moores, divorced his wife. Moores was utterly strapped for cash and had to sell the team; in the meantime, the franchise floundered.

What makes this so much worse than the Moores/Padres situation is that the McCourts’ divorce is not merely harming the team’s bottom line — it’s playing out in the papers on a daily basis, overshadowing the club and humiliating Dodger fans.

Where to begin…let’s start with Jamie’s divorce filing…

ShysterBall did an absolutely glorious job of summarizing Jamie’s opening salvo.

There’s no way I could recap it all here, so check it out when you get a chance. For true legal junkies, there’s also this link to the filing itself.

She wants $320,967 in monthly spousal support if she gets her job back with the Dodgers. If she does not get her job back with the Dodgers, she wants $487,634 a month.

Jamie led a push to have the environs of Dodger Stadium given its own zip code and the name “Dodgertown, California.” That’s so lame I’d expect to see that as an accusation in Frank’s filings, not a supporting point in Jamie’s. Jamie made $2 million a year when she worked for the Dodgers. You can look at this one of two ways: as an awful damn lot of money to pay a person for coming up with stupid stuff like “Dodgertown, California” or as a total steal considering she made 1/6 the money Jason Schmidt did and actually, you know, did stuff.

Description of lifestyle: more on the private air travel (private jets at $12K an hour) fine hotels (always over $1000 a night) and nice dinners out ($400+ a pop). Good for them. What kills me though is that the next time there’s a labor impasse, Joe Fan is going to side with the owners and complain that the players are the greedy ones who make too much money to play a kid’s game.

Jamie wants her job back as Dodger CEO, but even if she can’t get that, she wants all the “perquisites, emoluments and benefits” that come with the job and with co-ownership of the Dodgers. That’s perks and fringe benefits to peasants like you and me. The list of perks is long and includes all of the sorts of things you might expect the owners of a billion dollar company to have: Private jet travel, five star hotels wherever she goes, use of the “Dodger credit card” and the like.

The only one that has me scratching my head is “private security when traveling in dangerous locations.” By that I can only assume she means road trips to Queens when the team plays the Mets.

Actually, what it means is that she wants Frank to foot the bill for the companionship of her personal “bodyguard,” Jeff Fuller. Also known as her road beef.

Here’s an AP report on Frank’s divorce filing:

Los Angeles Dodgers owner Frank McCourt on Wednesday filed papers opposing his wife’s demand to be reinstated as the team’s chief executive, citing insubordination and an affair she allegedly had with her bodyguard.

The documents were submitted one day after Jamie McCourt filed divorce papers seeking to regain her $2 million-a-year job.

In a filing submitted by the Dodgers that opposes her return to the team, Dodgers attorneys allege that Jamie McCourt took a trip with her bodyguard, Jeff Fuller, in early July to Israel on team business, but then headed to France for 2 1/2 weeks and billed the Dodgers for the trip. Jamie McCourt is also accused of not giving her husband any information about her assignments as chief executive and not providing the team with her schedule of public appearances.

In a declaration filed by Frank McCourt, he references Fuller as well, saying before his wife went on the trip she asked him for three things — one of which was to have Fuller be her driver.

Many harsh words have been exchanged in a public back-and-forth waged daily in the Los Angeles papers between the McCourts’ divorce lawyers.

The guys they brought on board to do battle are extremely experienced LA attorneys with storerooms full of high-profile celeb divorce paperwork. Suffice it to say, their billing rates are ample, and every cent comes out of the Dodgers’ bottom line.

Some of the harshest rhetoric surrounds Jamie McCourt’s role as President/CEO of the Dodgers, and whether her efforts helped or hindered the team in the first place.  (BREAKING: As this item went to press, the court denied Jamie’s attempts to be reinstated as CEO.)

Bill Shaikin of the LA Times has been a clutch journalist on the case, and here’s his wrapup of Jamie’s side of the story:

Jamie McCourt claims she was actively involved in the ownership and management of the team from day one, detailing her involvement in executive meetings, hiring and planning decisions, and marketing and community relations initiatives.

“I was the face of the Dodgers,” she claims.

Frank’s attorneys beg to differ:

The two sides also revived their debate on how integral Jamie McCourt has been to the success of the Dodgers’ operations, with attorneys for Frank McCourt belittling her assertion that she was “the face of the Dodgers.”

“There is no ‘face of the Dodgers,’ ” his attorneys wrote, “and, even if there were, dozens of Dodgers figures would rank ahead of Jamie McCourt. The conflict between Jamie McCourt’s focus on her self-image and the values of the Dodgers’ organization is irreconcilable.”

Dodgers President Dennis Mannion has opposed her reinstatement, alleging that Jamie McCourt seldom showed up for work on time, missed meetings and put her interests ahead of those of the team.

And furthermore…

Mannion denied Jamie McCourt’s claims that he had instructed team employees not to work with her and excluded her from management discussions and decisions. He said he would have welcomed her involvement had she shown up for work more often.

Mannion further alleged that Jamie McCourt focused on initiatives “designed to cultivate and promote her image as the highest ranking woman in Major League Baseball,” even when those activities “were not financially successful ventures and did not fit the strategic needs of the organization.”

The filing in particular cited DodgersWIN, described in her biography as a program that “brings women closer to the game, brings the game closer to women’s lifestyles, and helps inspire women to use their voices.”

That sounds like one of the stupidest ideas in the history of the game, second only to race-based discrimination. The game is the game, we don’t need to spend money making it “closer to women’s lifestyles.” Seems to me that plenty of women enjoy the game of baseball already without Jamie’s useless efforts. Are you kidding me with this??

Maybe if Jamie hadn’t wasted so much money on first-class accommodations and ludicrous programs like DodgersWIN, the team wouldn’t have had to essentially sell blue chip prospect Carlos Santana to the Indians — the SMALL MARKET CLEVELAND INDIANS — in order to save money in the acquisition of role player Casey Blake.

The sad fact is, while the Dodgers have won a fair amount of games in the McCourts’ tenure, those victories have been owed largely to ex-GM Dan Evans, who ran the team back when Rupert Murdoch’s News Corp was the owner.

Virtually every star Dodger was drafted during the Evans regime, or acquired with prospects drafted by Evans. That includes Matt Kemp, Jon Broxton, James Loney, Andre Ethier, Russell Martin, and Chad Billingsley. Manny Ramirez was acquired by trading Evans’ pick Andy LaRoche.

There’s one notable exception — star lefty Clayton Kershaw was chosen by the McCourts’ GM, Ned Colletti — but with the 7th pick in the draft you’d damn well better get yourself a guy with huge upside.

Under the McCourts’ penurious regime, the Dodgers have gutted their once-robust commitment to international scouting.

The result of dealing prospects for cash and skimping on bonuses is that the Dodgers’ once-stellar minor league organization (this is a team that once churned out five straight NL Rookies of the Year) is now one of the worst in baseball.

[T]he Dodgers have done relatively little to replenish the organization. Baseball America last spring ranked the Dodgers’ farm system 23rd among the 30 teams.

Gordon and pitcher Chris Withrow emerged as elite prospects this season, but the minor league depth is limited by the Dodgers’ limited investment in it.

The Dodgers have paid $8.5 million in signing bonuses for draft picks over the last two years — the lowest figure among all major league teams, according to Baseball America.

The Dodgers, so proud of their heritage in Asia and Latin America, today are a non-factor in bidding for top amateur players abroad. In 2008, according to Baseball America, major league clubs combined to sign 115 such players for bonuses of more than $100,000. The Dodgers did not sign one.

“They’re definitely not the pioneering team they were,” Baseball America editor John Manuel said. “They’ve squandered that advantage.”

Dodger Divorce points out that improvements to Dodger Stadium will surely be sidelined by the accelerating court proceedings.

Other observers, including Shaikin and LA columnist Bill Plaschke, accuse the McCourts of blowing a chance to acquire ace Cliff Lee — last seen mowing down Yankees in the World Series:

It has been written here countless times since the end of July that the Dodgers would have been a serious World Series contender if they had been able to trade for an available ace starter like Cliff Lee.

The Phillies acquired Lee instead, and it is the Phillies who are in the World Series this week, using Lee to steal a Game 1 victory from the New York Yankees.

The Dodgers finished second in the Lee sweepstakes this summer because the Cleveland Indians judged the Phillies’ prospects to be better. It turns out that the Dodgers didn’t improve their offer because the McCourts would rather invest in the cheaper lower-level minor leaguers than pay the remainder of Lee’s $6-million contract this year, plus his $9-million option next year.

Go away, McCourts. Now.

Sell the team and go live in one of your many mansions, or even better, pitch a tent in a parking lot.

(Oh, I forgot. News Corp foreclosed on those.)

Dodgers fans are being robbed blind by these two carpetbagging hedonists, and it’s only going to get worse from here unless they find a way to unload the team and do it soon.

Los Angeles deserves far better ownership than these two chumps.

This past week, an temporarily-anonymous Los Angeleno decided that a new century requires a more intense and public level of blasphemy.

So he climbed atop a rusty, sagging cross affixed to the West Bethel Presbyterian Church on La Brea Boulevard, stripped off his clothes, and smeared his caca on the cross.

Move over, Piss Christ.

Navid ______ presents his new work of performance art, Poop Cross.

Actually, news reports like the one from the LA DAILY NEWS suggest that this individual was disturbed and suicidal, not an artist, but sometimes people with mental problems make the very best art of all…

LOS ANGELES – A naked, suicidal man clung to a rusted roof cross on top of a large two-story church in the Fairfax-Park La Brea area of the city for seven hours Sunday before negotiators were able to convince him to come down.

The unidentified man, believed to be 25 years old, climbed up on top of the rusted metal cross about 8 a.m., Los Angeles Fire Department spokeswoman d’Lisa Davies said.

Los Angeles Police Department negotiators and Fire Department personnel responded at 8 a.m. to the church located at 5284 W. 9th St. in an attempt to talk the man down from the cross about 50 feet up in the air, Davies said.

They had an air cushion on scene in case he jumped, Davies said. The department also used two aerial ladder trucks with the ladders extended to try to talk him down.

She said the cross was rusted and the firefighters didn’t want to add any additional pressure on it. The man came down just after 3 p.m. and was taken into custody for mental evaluation, Davies said.

Photographer Jonathan Alcorn was there and captured it all with his lens:

The identity of the crazy man / artist is still unknown, although some intriguing comments on LAist suggest his name is Navid something:

RamonDestroys said:

Um. That looks A LOT like my friend Navid that I haven’t seen in a couple of years…

After checking the photos on Jonathan Alcorn’s site, I’m fairly certain that is my friend.

I really hope he is alright.

Panasonicyouth said:

Yep, that is definitely Navid, Ramon.

WHAT THE FUCK. I just spoke with him three weeks ago!

Defacing a church is a felony, and apparently this young man will face the charge.

Hopefully he works out whatever issues are troubling him enough to risk life and limb in such a manner, deal with the criminal charges, and get the help he needs.

But in the meantime, we’ve got a new artistic masterwork on our hands.

If it turns out this guy received any grant money from the government to smear poop on religious symbols, expect the Moral Majority to go ape tits anytime now.

The LA Weekly has a fun piece about “Case # 2:06-bk-11205-VZ,” the bankruptcy auction of Death Row Records’ property.

This collection of detritus from the former headquarters of the West Coast gangsta rap movement was ordered sold by the US Bankruptcy court in the aftermath of Suge Knight’s financial default.

MISSINFO.TV reported on an email that announced the sale:

-The Actual Death Row Records Electric Chair

-Suge Knight’s Cigars & Engraved Cases

-Snoop Dogg, Dr. Dre’s ‘Source Awards’

-Original Paintings & Framed Portraits

-Tupac Shakur Collectables

-Framed Gold and Platinum Records

Also included in the sale:

Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Versace & Cartier Items

Fitness Equipment (The Complete Gym)

New & Personal Clothing

Office Computers & Furniture

Promotional CD’s, Posters, Stickers, Flat’s Etc.

300,000 Saleable CD’s in Original Packaging

OWN A PART OF HIP HOP HISTORY
THIS AUCTION IS OPEN TO THE PUBLIC
INSPECTION: FRIDAY, JANUARY 23RD FROM 10AM TO 3PM

As the Brandon Perkins piece tells it, this was a pretty interesting collection of first-time auction buyers, gathered to divvy up the decaying remains of a once-potent hip hop empire:

Officially dubbed “Case # 2:06-bk-11205-VZ,” the day’s festivities were ordered up by the US Bankruptcy Court on behalf of Suge Knight and Death Row Records. As the staple of Los Angeles music and definition of gangster rap for nearly a decade since its 1991 inception, the controversial record label and its fearsome owner ran their pop culture course into the ground shortly after its flagship star, Tupac Shakur, was gunned down in Las Vegas in 1996.

But for nearly 200 bidders at the auction, the spirit of Death Row was still relevant in 2009. The specifics of that relevancy remained varied. For some, it was a chance to make a quick buck. Where else could you buy 17,000 CD copies of Snoop Dogg’s Tha Doggfather for four cents a piece? Others were looking for deals…like a pallet full of dated (but working) television sets that sold for $15. And in accord with many of Death Row’s notorious business practices, some people were just trying to get their stuff back.

“I wanted to see what the prices were going to be on the some of the pieces that actually belonged to my son, Jay Jenson. He worked for Suge Knight,” Diane Jensen said. “I’m trying to buy them back. They actually belong to him, but the bank has them now.”

Before the auction began, bidders carefully eyed each other. It was easy to imagine Snoop or Dre sending surrogates for their platinum plaques and VMAs, or even that Suge commissioned troops to make sure certain things stayed unsold. But when the auctioneer commenced the dizzying affair with cases of “Death Row Water” — for less than the cost of water, to people who clearly had never attended an auction before in their life — it was apparent that the majority of the day’s bidders were there for one thing: Nostalgia.

[...]

But the same guy that snagged my beloved Nate Dogg portrait also won everything else he attempted, including two of the day’s biggest prizes: the “Notorious P.I.G.” original painting and Death Row’s actual electric chair. His name was Dale and his tattoos spoke louder than he did, explaining that he was a fan of “big businessmen like Suge” and that, yeah, he did have a few good spots to put all this artwork.

Dale’s seemingly bottomless wallet may have left a few fellow bidders bitter — he’d just hold his arm in the air until everyone else bowed out — but if bullying wasn’t the mantra of Death Row, then nothing was.

As Perkins explains, the piece above – part of Dale’s take – featured loving revisions from Suge himself, added after Nate left Death Row…

Check out a slideshow of images from the Death Row auction here.

The LA Dodgers are one of the most storied franchises in baseball history, and they play their games in the second-largest city in America.

Unfortunately, their owner would be better suited for a market like Florida, because he has little in the way of baseball knowhow and lacks the requisite money to represent LA with any consistency.

While Frank McCourt made his fortune, such as it is, by developing parking lots, he still managed to royally screw up the parking situation at Dodger Stadium – just when you didn’t believe it could get any worse in gridlocked Chavez Ravine.

Most big-city owners rely on experienced baseball minds to run their franchise, but McCourt has installed his wife Jamie as Dodger President, despite her utter lack of credentials. Just to fully affirm that he believes in the power of nepotism, he’s also hired his son as marketing director.

McCourt first tried and failed to buy the Red Sox, before zillionaire John Henry and his merry band swooped in and outclassed his bid. Now the ex-Bostonian desperately grabs every former Red Sox he can get his hands on: witness the conga line of Nomar Garciaparra, Derek Lowe, Bill Mueller, and for the love of God, he actually thought it was a good idea to hire Grady Little!!

McCourt’s evident Northeast bias hasn’t been ALL bad for the Dodgers in the McCourt era: McCourt made a decent move by hiring Joe Torre after the should-be Hall of Famer was let go by the Yankees, and the Manny Ramirez trade carried the Dodgers into the postseason.

All that’s well and good, until you realize that the Dodgers basically got Manny for free, and now that it’s come time to pay up for a playoff-caliber MVP, they’re pinching pennies again.

The perma-grumpy TJ Simers gripes today,

I think I understand why CC Sabathia wanted to play for the Dodgers, then talked to Frank McCourt on the telephone and signed with the Yankees.

It will be five years next month since the Boston Parking Lot Attendant bought the Dodgers after a failed attempt to buy the Red Sox and told everyone at a news conference the Dodgers have the best fans in sports.

I immediately followed that up with a question: Had you been successful in buying the Red Sox, what would you have told Boston fans?

Never have trusted much of what the guy has to say after that, and he hasn’t given much of a reason the last five years to change my mind.

We’re not talking mistakes here, the hiring of Lon Rosen and his plans for loud music and a Dodgers mascot, or the Tipper Gore Lady, $2 Tuesdays, the wife’s sudden affection for Little League fields or flip-flopping on Paul DePodesta and Grady Little.

It really doesn’t have anything to do with the ridiculous chants of “Hee-Seop Choi,” or J.D. Drew’s escape clause. This isn’t about Jason Schmidt, Andruw Jones or Jason Phillips.

And it’s more than keeping the poor folks from using the new concession stands and restrooms on the field level once the game has started, or the decision not to upgrade the concession stands and restrooms everywhere else this off-season.

It’s a matter of trust, McCourt promising five years ago at a packed news conference to be “transparent” in everything he does, while saying, “I know what it takes to inspire and to lead,” and “I’m not afraid to spend whatever it takes to bring a world championship back to Los Angeles.”

Now that you know him, do you believe him?

Do you believe he’s not afraid to spend whatever it takes to bring a world championship to Los Angeles?

Do you think he knows what it takes to inspire and lead?

Do you feel McCourt is transparent, as the dictionary defines it, “open, frank and candid?”

OK, so I’ll give you “Frank.”

Hey theah buddy, how does an incentive-based one yeah deal sound to ya?

Despite getting a playoff run for the price of disappointing prospect Andy LaRoche, the Dodgers refuse to pony up for Manny, sticking to their guns on a 2-year, $45-50 million dollar deal. This is almost assuredly not enough to get the job done, yet McCourt and GM Ned Colletti seem to naively believe that their efforts are sufficient.

“I just find it curious,” Colletti said. “We made a [contract] offer and never heard back. We made a [salary] arbitration offer and never heard back. Maybe we have to look into the communications we’re using.”

So what are the chances that Ramirez will be a Dodger next season?

“If he shows up in spring training, we’ll find him a hat, we’ll find him a shirt and we’ll play him in the field and figure it out then,” Colletti said. “But I can’t wait until the day he shows up to go after a third baseman or a shortstop or another reliever.”

Huh?? Is this some kind of a joke?

The only reason the Dodgers got a free trial of Manny being Manny is that the two $20 million per year options held by the Red Sox were not sufficient compensation in the eyes of Ramirez and his agent, the nefarious Boras.

And now they don’t understand why a contract offer of the same length and only slightly more per year isn’t inducing the wacky outfielder to sign on the dotted line?

Without Manny, the Dodger offense in 2008 was limp; with him, it was potent. Sure, it’s never good to overpay for an aging slugger, but it’s ALSO never good to give away one of your top prospects for a half-season rental. A reasonable, market-price contract offer to Manny is the difference between the Dodgers competing for the playoffs in 2009 and disappointing their fans for another year.

Apparently in this time of economic apocalypse, 3 or 4 years at $25m per is out of McCourt’s reach.

The lowlight of the Dodgers’ flaccid pursuit of Ramirez was when team prez Jamie McCourt suggested that the megabucks it would take to sign Manny might be much better spent on a bunch of charity baseball fields:

Would Dodgers fans react negatively if the team were to pay big money to free agents when the nation’s economy is in sharp decline and many Americans are losing their jobs?

That was the question posed by Dodgers President Jamie McCourt as she made an appearance with her husband, team owner Frank McCourt, Tuesday at an event where it was announced the club’s charitable foundation would help build 42 youth fields around Southern California.

“If you bring somebody in to play and pay them, pick a number, $30 million, does that seem a little weird to you?” Jamie McCourt asked in an interview at the Evergreen Recreation Center in East Los Angeles. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. We’re really trying to see it through the eyes of our fans. We’re really trying to understand, would they rather have the 50 fields?”

The Dodgers recently made a two-year, $45-million offer to slugger Manny Ramirez that they later withdrew, and the McCourts seemed to be hedging against lavish spending during a time of such great economic uncertainty.

Jamie McCourt said the fact that the majority of contracts were guaranteed was a significant issue.

I think, oddly enough, maybe if things weren’t guaranteed, then we could pay for it,” she said. “If people can’t play anymore, it’s like, ‘Oh well, see ya.’ Different story. Whatever money they are guaranteed could be money that we could otherwise have given to community.”

HUH? What is this, Moot Point Debate Society?

If you hate guaranteed contracts so much, you shouldn’t have purchased an MLB franchise, lady.

There’s certainly a strong argument to be made that signing Manny to a 4 year deal will result in overpaying him for one or two seasons.

But Dodgers fans have been overpaying to see a mediocre team for the last 20 years.

Yet, as Simers goes on to point out, the Dodgers have had no hesitation about laying out dollars and/or years to some pretty crappy players:

We’ve all been trained here in the Entertainment Capital to know better, never thinking of the Dodgers as big-time bidders, and doesn’t that say something about the McCourts’ ownership reign?

Maybe if Teixeira is free, McCourt pounces — the acquisition of Ramirez and Boston’s agreement to pay the remainder of his salary the highlight so far of the owner’s time on the job.

As for offering money, the Dodgers gave a five-year guaranteed deal to Juan Pierre a few years back and recently a three-year guaranteed pact to [Casey] Blake.

But they have offered only two guaranteed years to Ramirez, the only player in the last 20 years to put the Dodgers within a sniff of the World Series. The Dodgers pick the oddest places to play hardball.

Now maybe McCourt and Ned Colletti have already put their heads together and come up with a winning plan, and for the record, I did not laugh out loud while typing that sentence.

But as transparent as McCourt and Colletti have been to date, one wonders if they have anything in mind other than waiting and picking through the leftovers.

One player who they won’t be retaining is shortstop Rafael Furcal, who’s apparently agreed to a three-year pact with the team he originally came up with, the Braves.

After Furcal had an injury-plagued 2008 season, the Dodgers decided to offer him an insultingly incentive-laden contract. The Braves, meanwhile, noticed that when Furcal’s back wasn’t bothering him he played tremendously well, and they got the deal done.

While the Dodgers delude themselves, making idiotic decisions like inking Andruw Jones while spurning far more useful options, the Artists Formerly Known as the Anaheim Angels have made big signings like Vladimir Guerrero and Torii Hunter, have been perennial playoff contenders, and won a title in the not-too-distant past, which makes it a lot easier for their fans to accept when players like Francisco Rodriguez get poached by Northeastern baseball titans.

The big-market West Coast teams will never have the endless sums of money that the New York and Boston franchises can draw upon, but they have no excuse for not making SOME quality snags in the free-agent market. If 36-year-old Manny is deemed to be too big a risk, then there are – or at this point, WERE – other middle-of-the-lineup or top-of-the-rotation options available.

Casey Blake ain’t one of them, though.

Hey, it could be worse – the team could still be owned by FOX.

UPDATE: Clearly stung by our criticism, the Dodgers have reportedly re-engaged Furcal’s representatives even as a deal with Atlanta was imminent! That’s more like it, McCourt!