Whereas my Second Team Hall of Namers were football players whose names are merely amusing, these First Team designees are ones whose names seem to independently declare, “this guy is an effin’ football player, my friend!”

I must admit, this one was tough because there are so, so many great candidates. Especially from the mid-century era: randomly looking at the roster of the 1947 Chicago Cardinals reveals such minor gems as Plato Andros, Babe Dimancheff, Pop Ivy, Buster Ramsey, and Walt Szot. With the purely arbitrary nature of this little exercise in mind, here are my favorite favorites.

NOTE: an asterisk after a player’s name denotes a member of the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

FIRST TEAM: NOW THAT’S A FOOTBALL PLAYER NAME

• 
  Eric Bieniemy
  pronounced “bee-EN-uh-mee”RB • San Diego Chargers (1991-94), Cincinnati Bengals (1995-98), Philadelphia Eagles (1999)

  We can all be grateful that Bieniemy chose not to attempt a post-football hip-hop career under the name B-Enemy. I can only imagine the various mockeries he must have heard on the playgrounds of his childhood: “Eric B. Enema,” “Eric B. Anthony” (from women’s suffrage history enthusiasts), etc. ESPN’s Chris Berman probably rendered any other nicknames moot when he famously dubbed him “Eric ‘Sleeping With‘ Bieniemy.”

• Carlester Crumpler
  TE • Seattle Seahawks (1994-98), Minnesota Vikings (1999)

  Who wants to get blocked by a 6’6”, 260 pound tight end named Carlester Crumpler? Not I. His younger brother Alge Crumpler was also an NFL tight end, and a pretty darn good one. It’s fair to say that Alge exceeded Carlester in all but name.

• 
  Larry Csonka*
  pronounced “ZAWN-kuh”FB • Miami Dolphins (1968-74, 1979), New York Giants (1975-78)

  It seems to me that if you’re onomatopoeically named after a concussion, you kind of have to be a football player. Unless perhaps you have the hand speed to be a boxer… nah, football player still feels more appropriate. Especially if you ever watched Larry Csonka run over people.

• D’Brickashaw Ferguson
  OT, New York Jets (2006- )

  I picture him training by pulling a rickshaw filled with bricks. Or a brick rickshaw. Ferguson and whichever athletic label is currently producing the Jets’ uniforms should make that image into a poster. Huge dude charging right at you pulling a brick-filled rickshaw, and underneath that the logo and the large font, all-caps declaration D’BRICKASHAW. You’re welcome, Mr. Ferguson.

• 
  Lou Groza*
  pronounced “GROW-zuh”OT/K • Cleveland Browns, (1946-67)

  There is a general shortage of guys named Lou in the NFL these days. Not to mention offensive linemen who do double duty as kickers, or have nicknames like “The Toe.”

• Bronko Nagurski*
  pronounced “nuh-GURR-skee”FB/OT/LB • Chicago Bears (1930-37, 1943)

  Born Bronislaw Nagurski in 1908, he dominated during the 30′s with his combination of speed, strength and relative hugeness for that time: 6’2″ and 226 lbs. He retired from football before the 1938 season to focus on the more lucrative endeavor of professional wrestling, but was lured back in 1943 by legendary coach George Halas to help fill the Bears’ depleted wartime roster. It worked, as Nagurski was a key factor in Chicago’s winning the ’43 NFL Championship.

• 
  Dat Nguyen
  
  pronounced “WHEN”LB • Dallas Cowboys (1999-2005)

  There’s just something to these two-syllable names that sounds like… impact. Like Emilio Estevez said when he threatened Judd Nelson in The Breakfast Club: “Two hits: me hitting you, you hitting the ground.” Incidentally, according to PFR Nguyen is still the only player in NFL history to have been born in Vietnam.

• Lyle Rockenbach
  
  OG • Detroit Lions (1943)

  Damn — if only because of that name, the guy must have deserved to play more than one year in the league. My googling reveals that he served in the Navy during World War II, presumably after his one season with the Lions. His bach-rockin’ name was then wasted on a career as a sales manager in the chemical industry.

• 
  Jack Scarbath
  
  QB • Washington Redskins (1953-54), Pittsburgh Steelers (1956)

  Yeech, there’s a gory mental image… if only to banish it, a not-gory physical image is at right. “Scarbath” seems more emblematic than threatening on a quarterback, a position much more likely to absorb physical punishment than mete it out.

• Webster Slaughter
  
  WR • Cleveland Browns (1986-91), Houston Oilers (1992-94), Kansas City Chiefs (1995), New York Jets (1996), San Diego Chargers (1998)

  The only un-badass thing about it was that he was a wideout, and in football terms, a little guy at 6'1″ and 175 lbs.

• 

  The original hothead

  Otis Sistrunk
  DT/DE • Oakland Raiders (1972-78)

  My personal numero-uno football player name in the history of ever. To me, a single-digit-aged kid growing up in the Bay Area, the true personification of the John Madden-era Raiders was not one of the most often-cited figures: not scrappy left-handed quarterback Ken Stabler, nor the gangly star linebacker Ted Hendricks, nor the stickum-slathered wideout Fred Biletnikoff, nor all-pro guard Art Shell, nor the doughy, angst-ridden Madden himself, nor even the ubiquitously track-suited figure of the late Al Davis. No, I liked the big guy in the number 60 jersey. The dude with the shaved head¹ and the gap-toothed smile and the funny name. Otis Sistrunk was as imposing, hard to move, and (in my imagination, at least) generally amiable as the pachyderm his name called to mind. He was like a football-playing Babar. What’s not to love?

• Mac Speedie
  
  E • Cleveland Browns (1946-52)

  His middle name was Curtis, but his first name really was “Mac” and his last name really was “Speedie.” Poor guy was born too soon — he could have made a fortune as a pitchman for mac ‘n cheese in a box. Either that, or become a character on Grey’s Anatomy with, er, stamina problems.

• 
  Jack Youngblood*
  
  DE • Los Angeles Rams (1971-84)

  Played for much of his career alongside his brother, Rams linebacker Jim Youngblood. That’s a lot of blood on the field before the ball is even snapped. I hated these guys, because they played for the arch-rivals of my lifelong rooting allegiance, the San Francisco 49ers. Of course, that was back when L.A. could be bothered to keep a pro football franchise.

Confession time: I wrote the bulk of this post a year ago, at the beginning of the 2010 football season. It grew into a long enough opus to fall by the wayside because of my mercurial re-editing tendencies. Before I knew it, the divisional playoffs were upon us and I decided that the post and I needed some time apart.

But now football is back, baby, attended by two of my favorite ancillary activities: trash-talking my friends in our fantasy league and contemplating the funny names of players. The former I have mentioned in this blog before (although not lately), and the latter is the basis of this post — which is now a series of posts. That’s how many unusual, distinctive, or just plain funny names I have dug out of the annals of American football between the 1920′s and the present. So enough pre-game, let’s kick this thing off!

2ND TEAM (MILDLY SILLY)

• 

  Never played this Atari

  Atari Bigby
  DB • Green Bay Packers (2005-10), Seattle Seahawks (2011- )
  He claims that his first name is Japanese for “attack,” although that doesn’t account for the fact that Bigby is a defensive player. I think it would be cool for Bigby to celebrate his interceptions by forming himself into a triangle, rotating in place and ‘firing’ at larger players with a “pew-pew-pew!” sound. It would probably draw an unsportsmanlike conduct penalty, of course. The refs might even tack on an additional five yards for copyright violation.

• Toi Cook
  (pronounced “Toy”)
  DB • New Orleans Saints (1987-93), San Francisco 49ers (1994-95), Carolina Panthers (1996-97)

  I’ve been giggling at this dude’s name since the early 80′s, when he played college ball at Stanford and I haunted the south end zone bleachers. Too bad I didn’t think of it until now, but you know what would have been awesome? A Toi Cook action figure. A toy Toi Cook. Kids being kids, a lot of them would probably have ended up in the microwave — a messy bit of irony.

• Jerricho Cotchery
  WR • New York Jets (2004-10), Pittsburgh Steelers (2011- )

  He tumbled all the way down the board and eventually went unselected in my fantasy league draft this year. I do, however, recall his name coming up at one point when somebody asked, “is Jerricho Crotch-rot still available?” I imagine if he heard of this, it might make Cotchery crotchety.

• 

  Richie um, …Smith

  Richie Incognito
  OL • St. Louis Rams (2006-09), Buffalo Bills (2009), Miami Dolphins (2010- )
  As pictured at right, this guy fails to honor the legacy of his patronymic ancestors. If he had any sense of tradition, he’d wear a different jersey number every week with a different name above it. Or better yet, no name at all.

• Jamaal Fudge
  DB • Jacksonville Jaguars (2006-07), Atlanta Falcons (2008-09)

  Almost sounds like he should be a Harry Potter character. I think his name was originally Jamaal Fuck, but they made him tone it down for television.

• Chip Glass
  TE • Cleveland Browns (1969-73), New York Giants (1974)

  I guess he never fully recovered from the initial injury. All wise-assing aside, if your last name is Glass, why would you allow yourself to be called by the nickname “Chip?” His given name was Charles; if he didn’t like “Charlie,” I’d think “Chuck Glass” at least sounds slightly dangerous.

• 

  Cliff Marker
  (photo: Flickr/urbaer)

  Cliff Marker
  E/DB¹ • Canton Bulldogs (1926), New York Giants & Frankford Yellow Jackets² (1927)
  Pictured at right. No word on how effective he was in the single-wing offense of his era; still, he was certainly a good guy to have around if only for safety purposes.

• Guy Whimper
  OT • New York Giants (2006- )

  Just a delightfully incongruous name for a 300-pound offensive lineman.

• Izzy Yablock
  RB/LB • Brooklyn Dodgers³ (1930-31), Staten Island Stapletons (1931)

  A football version of the “Who’s On First” routine waiting to happen. “Hey, Izzy! Ya block?” “Yeah-block.” “Good, so you lead the sweep and pick up the linebacker.” “No, I mean it’s pronounced ‘Yeah-block’.” “Yeah. Block. Ya gonna block for me, right?” “No, that’s not what I said.” “Hey coach, izzy a blocker?” “Yeah he blocks.” “No no, it’s just ‘Yeah-block’. Just one ‘block’.” …&etc.

Stay tuned in the upcoming days for the revelation of my First Team hall of namers.

Genealogy is a hobby similar to fantasy sports: the most interesting thing in the world is your own data/team, and the most boring thing in the world is hearing about someone else’s. With that in mind, I’m only bringing the subject up here on the blog because I found an angle that may be good for a few cheap laughs. That’s me, keeping it classy.

The silly aspect is that the 17th-18th century New England Puritans from whom I descend often gave their children first names that, suffice it to say, didn’t quite catch on. They’re strange or comical by present-day standards — but then again, we have been known to indulge in some creative nomenclature ourselves.

After the jump are a few of my favorites; let it never be said that my ancestors can’t take a joke (although I’ve found that dead people tend to be pretty good about that).

Salmon Treat (1673 — 1746) of Preston, Connecticut; first cousin 9 times removed. The man for whom the tidbits you feed to your cat are named.

Cornelis Lambertsen Cool (c. 1585 — bef. Dec 30, 1643) of Gowanus, Long Island,¹ New Netherland Colony; 10th great-grandfather. A misnomer if ever I heard one. I don’t claim to speak for the rest of my family, but I have never been one of the Cool People.

Experience Strong (born c. 1650) of Northampton, Massachusetts; 8th great-grandaunt. She married Zerubbabel Filer, who probably worked his whole life to take the edge off his own first name. Her married name of Experience Strong Filer only compounds the hilarity. These two take the Couples Award, hands down.

Freelove Gillet (born Aug 10, 1729) of New Haven, Connecticut; half second cousin 7 times removed. That name… I do not think it means what you think it means.

Preserve Lippincott (Feb 25, 1662/63 — Feb 6, 1688/89) of Shrewsbury, New Jersey; 8th great-granduncle. Alas, he only kept for about 25 years.

Gerrit Wolfertsen Van Couwenhoven (c. 1610 — c. 1645), of Midwout, Breuckelen,² New Netherland Colony; 9th great-grandfather. This name isn’t particularly odd, I just wanted to throw in one that was really long and Dutch. The “Wolfertsen” part means what it looks like — in fact, his father’s name was Wolfert Gerritsen Van Cowenhoven. Fortunately, Gerrit Wolfertsen didn’t name either of his sons Wolfert, so the mirror-like naming madness stopped there. Over the course of succeeding generations in America down to the present day, the last name Van Couwenhoven has been streamlined into “Conover.”

Waitstill Hotchkiss (born c. 1740) of Cheshire, Connecticut; 5th great-granduncle. Jeez, what a bummer of a message that sends. They might as well have called him Dontholdyourbreath Hotchkiss.

Hackaliah Preston (Apr 9, 1643 — Nov 20, 1692) of New Haven; 8th great-granduncle. Twin brother of my only slightly more fortunate 8th great-grandfather, Eliasaph Preston (1643-1705).

Mehitable Hurlbut (Nov 23, 1690 — Jan 8, 1743/44) of Middletown, Connecticut; first cousin 9 times removed. Is it me, or does that name look like a car crash of letters? Even to pronounce, it ain’t pretty. I looked up the name “Mehitable” and discovered that it apparently is an earlier version of “Mabel.” I’d say the latter is an improvement… you gotta pare down those extraneous letters.

Lettice Underhill (died Mar 21, 1673) of Portsmouth, Rhode Island; 9th great-grandaunt. Aww. Isn’t that a quaint little bucolic image? Lettice was a sister of my 9th great-grandfather, the controversial military ass-kicker Capt. John Underhill.

Submit Strong (born Feb 23, 1689/90) of Northampton, Massachusetts; half 7th great-grandaunt. An oxymoron of a name like that will make a kid wonder if she’s coming or going. In case you’re wondering, she was the niece of the previously-mentioned Experience (Strong) Filer. As if the name itself wasn’t enough, get this: her father Thomas Strong had five kids with his first wife, before being widowed. He married again, and with his second wife he had eleven more children. Submit Strong was the last of her dad’s 16 children — and, he died before she was born. If that’s why they named her Submit, I think it was way uncool.

And My All-Time Favorite…

Silence Hand (born Nov 12, 1679) of Middletown, Connecticut; 8th great-grandmother. Talk to the Hand.

Jeff Chen recently asked, “Since everybody else is making lists of their top ten films of the decade, does that mean I have to, too?” I wouldn’t presume to speak for him, but my own answer to the same rhetorical question is a sheepish “yes.” Jeff ended up making his list, too, although I don’t know how sheepish he felt about it.

Anyway, here are my top ten…nah, screw it—twelve favorite movies of the decade just completed, i.e., 2000-2009.

1. Dogville (2004)

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   Mike D’Angelo, The Man Who Viewed Too Much:

   Inevitably, von Trier’s spartan aesthetic has American critics citing Our Town, but in both method and spirit Dogville has much more in common with Brecht’s The Good Woman of Setzuan (written in Denmark, ironically), another sorrowful disquisition on the mercenary aspects of human nature. Anything this ostentatiously artificial demands to be read as allegory, of course, and charges of anti-Americanism aren’t entirely groundless — certainly the film is very, very critical of the way that the U.S. treats its underclass, and to argue that Von Trier isn’t entitled to feel that disgust without having set foot in the continental 48 is patently absurd.

2. Capturing the Friedmans (2003)

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   Jonathan Rosenbaum, Chicago Reader:
   

   If Capturing the Friedmans were less shapely and less of a masterpiece, I’d find it less troubling. Both times I’ve seen it I’ve felt that by the end practically everyone associated with the film seems tarnished in one way or another: the ostensible subjects (the Friedmans, an upper-middle-class Jewish family in the Long Island town of Great Neck), the members of their community who helped destroy much of their lives, the filmmakers, and the audience. We’re all tainted by the graphic exposure of family wounds, diminished by what we think and feel–and by what we don’t think and don’t feel.

3. The Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001-2003)

   
   Trailers: Fellowship Towers Return
   Netflix: Fellowship Towers Return
   Jeffrey Chen, LVJeffrey’s Window to the Movies:

   Thinking about this trilogy, I ponder over the strange dynamics of its journey to the screen. Peter Jackson and his team of wizards had already set themselves up with the first two movies — they were instantly beloved, receiving more praise from critics and public alike than most movies could ever dream of having. Naturally, the demand would be for the third episode to match the same heights. Even if Jackson only needed to deliver a movie that simply met expectations, he’d already have to create something quite special. Thus, the successful effectiveness of the final film should be an astonishing feat — we anticipate nothing less. It’s like putting Jackson on a golf course and telling him 18 hole-in-ones is par for the course.

   But he did it.

4. Before Sunset (2004)

   
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   Scott Tobias, The A.V. Club:

   When Hawke first beckoned Delpy off the train in [this film's 1995 prequel] Before Sunrise, he lured her with a half-sincere, half-smoke-and-mirrors speech about how she should take a chance or else feel some doubt in her romantic future. Though it seemed like a harmless come-on at the time, those words carry an achingly ironic resonance in Before Sunset, when the renewed pleasure they take in each other’s company only deepens their regret about where life has steered them. Shooting in long takes, [director Richard] Linklater and his actors (who get co-screenwriting credit) allow the conversation to curlicue effortlessly from literate banter to matters of the heart, and sometimes to places in between. And, in the spirit of the original, Linklater closes with one of the best endings of its kind since George Romero’s Martin.

5. Das Leben der Anderen (The Lives of Others) (2006)

   
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   Kenneth Turan, Los Angeles Times:

   [Writer/director Florian Henckel] von Donnersmarck has set his film in the East Germany of 1984, five years before the Berlin Wall collapsed. It was a time when the terrifying Stasi, the secret police, made it their business to use an extensive network of spies and surveillance to know every secret thing about their citizens. Unlike other German films, most notably 2004′s landmark Goodbye, Lenin, Lives is hardly an exercise in what’s called “Ostalgia”–nostalgia for the good old days of the East. Instead it is an inside look at how a surveillance society, set up to discover and prey upon human weakness, has the ability to make everyone a potential suspect and destroy everything it touches. The Lives of Others does all this beautifully, but it is too well-acted a film, too meticulously plotted and carefully directed, to be satisfied with that alone. It’s also finally too smart to be content with telling anything like a familiar story.

6. Y Tu Mamá También (And Your Mama Too) (2002)

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   Peter Rainer, New York Magazine:

   We’ve all seen (or consciously avoided seeing) plenty of Hollywood comedies about horny teens, but the two Mexican 17-year-olds in this film, Tenoch (Diego Luna) and Julio (Gael García Bernal), are perhaps the freest and most closely observed of their species to ever grace the screen. Y Tu Mamá También is like a Bill-and-Ted movie made by a true artist, and this in itself is a great joke.

7. Mulholland Dr. (2001)

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   Bryant Frazer, Deep Focus:

   Mulholland Dr. could be described as a movie about a dream about Hollywood. The audio design, credited to [writer/director David] Lynch, throbs with amplified ambient sound that suggests not just the ever-present noise of the city, but also, by literally surrounding the viewer, the expansive and unexplored spaces inside one’s own head. The helicopter shots peering straight down between skyscrapers as the booming sound of the city fills the movie theater are incredibly eerie, capturing the uneasy feeling of being alone, downtown, in the middle of the night.

   In collaboration with cinematographer Michael Deming, Lynch bathes his images in unease. His camera can best be described as floating, often moving vertically within a scene and looking down upon the characters, or sucking us forward into a point-of-view that we’re not sure we want to share.

8. Traffic (2000)

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   Jeff Vorndam, AboutFilm.com:

   What Traffic achieves, and what makes it a great, landmark film is that it acknowledges our culpability and how at odds we are with the avowed intent to eradicate drugs. Our society creates this problem with its insatiable demand for drugs, be they heroin, alcohol, tobacco, or diet pills. We love the stuff, and refusing to look ourselves in the eye short-circuits any plans to attack the side effects. One should ask, after viewing the film, if the side effects should be attacked at all, or if efforts are better spent treating the necessary ills that accompany our thirsts.

   I’m speaking in this broad sense because that’s where the film is strongest. I’ve read the complaints about the story timeline and the portrayals of certain characters, and they are not without merit, but in the end they make little difference to me because the totality of the film is so utterly moving. Some have said it’s not telling us anything we didn’t already know about the War on Drugs. Well, The Insider didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know about smoking–which is to say, it’s beside the point.

   Traffic isn’t a message movie, it’s a movie about a state of being. It’s about being hopelessly incapable of affecting real change. It’s a state of besiegement, frustration, and resignation. Finally, it is a state of dogged optimism.

9. Bloody Sunday (2002)

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   MaryAnn Johanson, The Flick Filosopher:

   On a gray January Sunday in 1972, in Derry, Northern Ireland, British soldiers opened fire with live ammunition on unarmed, peaceful demonstrators, killing 13. Shocking and visceral, writer/director Paul Greengrass’s documentary-style re-creation of the horrifying events of that day pulls no punches, bluntly depicting the powder-keg atmosphere of the city: the disquieting enthusiasm of the British troops on the streets, tired of taking the brunt of local ire and itching for a fight; the disdain of the British major general on the scene (Tim Pigott-Smith, weaselly perfection), dismissing civil-rights protestors as “hooligans”; the zeal of the people of Derry, led by the local MP (James Nesbitt, energetic and passionate), unwilling to back down in their own city.

10. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)

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    Vern, Then Fuck You, Jack: The Life and Art of Vern:

    To me the highly acclaimed picture Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is not so much about fighting as it is about love and woman empowerment and graceful movement. It’s more like a musical or one a them tapdancing movies they made back then with all the singing and umbrellas and what not. And I ain’t making excuses like the other critics, because I’d RATHER say it was a kung fu movie, and I loved it. But facts are facts, and this is a tap dancing movie. I ain’t complainin though cause it’s the best tap dancing movies I seen in years.

    My man [Chow Yun] Fat gets to perform stunts like I never seen him before, because he’s doing all kinds of kung fu and great swordsmanshipping. In case you don’t know not all chinese dudes know kung fu, and I never seen Fat do it before. Always using guns. Maybe a punch now and then but very rarely kicking. Here he’s flyin around like a god damn superman, flippin the swords around like WHISH WHISH WHISH and who the fuck even KNOWS what some a those weapons are called that he’s using. These guys know how to USE the things, we americans can’t even NAME them. That’s how far ahead of us Fat is.

    But like I said, this is a tapdancing movie. Not a Badass movie. And Fat is one fuck of a tapdancer.

11. Almost Famous (2000)

    Trailer
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    Dana Stevens, New York Times:

    In Almost Famous, a loose, affectionate look back on his earlier career as a teenage music journalist, [Cameron] Crowe has devoted a whole movie to the love of rock ‘n’ roll. The soul he lays open — a sweet, forgiving and generous one — is his own. The movie follows the adventures of William Miller (Patrick Fugit), a San Diego 15-year-old whose fairy-tale ascendance from nerdy schoolboy to Rolling Stone reporter mirrors Mr. Crowe’s own life story. But Mr. Crowe is less interested in biographical or historical literalism — he freely mixes real and fictional characters and prefers period atmosphere to period detail — than in evoking the joyful, reckless, earnest energy of rock in the years between 60′s idealism and punk nihilism.

    He may be the least cynical director working in Hollywood today. In his hands this coming-of-age story is as much about the preservation of William’s innocence as its loss; the music William loves protects him even as his involvement with it introduces him to all manner of worldly corruption.

12. You Can Count on Me (2000)

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    Nick Davis, Nick’s Flick Picks:

    Have I failed at all to make You Can Count on Me sound like the warm, hilarious, moving story it is? It is the sort of film which I so poignantly hope people will see that I wish there were a sure-fire way to motivate you. I could go on about the wonders worked by [Laura] Linney, [Mark] Ruffalo, and even the young [Rory] Culkin, who is easily the least precious and therefore most winning of his brood. They disappear so completely into their gorgeously written parts that no one seems to be acting, just being. The cast is so confident with their roles that Lonergan, a playwright and screenwriter (Analyze This) making a very assured debut as a director, takes them everywhere with equally persuasive results: broad comedy, light romance, fisticuffs, apologies.

A Few Stats About the Top 12

• Movies released 2005-2009: 1
• Single year with most films on the list: 2000 (4)
• Movies in a language other than English: 3
• English-language movies by non-US filmmakers: 3
• Movies I currently own on DVD: 6
• Of those, sweetest and most tricked-out DVD: The Lord of the Rings Platinum Series (Special Extended Edition)
• Cheeriest: Almost Famous
• Least cheery: Dogville
• Most likely to have been seen: The Lord of the Rings
• Least likely to have been seen: Probably Dogville, and will probably remain so (see above, “least cheery”)
• Baddest muthafucka: Yu Shu Lien (Michelle Yeoh) in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
• Longest above-the-line name: Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, writer/director of The Lives of Others
• How arbitrary the numerical rankings feel to me upon reflection: very
• Reportedly awesome 2000-2009 movies I haven’t seen: dozens
• Close, but no cigar: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Rachel Getting Married, A History of Violence, A.I. Artificial Intelligence, 25th Hour, No Country for Old Men, Memento, The Hurt Locker, Little Children, The 40 Year Old Virgin, All the Real Girls, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, Letters from Iwo Jima, Brokeback Mountain

So, how wrong am I? How suspect is my taste? Lay it on me in the comments.

You know, just… pop it in the mail slot.

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