It's been a pretty depressing week so far.

Everyone has idols, be they graven or real, and this week mine have taken a bit of a pounding. Folks I held up as examples of various qualities have, for whatever their own selfish reasons, seen fit to show complete disregard for my mental well-being and carry on as if their lives were their own.

Let's start with the Super Bowl. Unless you've just awakened from a coma, you're aware of the "wardrobe malfunction" that resulted in Ms. Jackson's carefully framed nipple being exposed for all to see. According to photos sent to me by no less than two dozen of you sweaty-palmed readers out there, some with captions bordering on disturbing, the "frame" was a metallic sunburst which, according to a tattoo-shop owner in Houston, is designed to work with a body part that's been pierced.

Listen! I've never heard several thousand "Too Much Information" alarms going off at the same time! It's like a symphony of madness.

How was Ms. Jackson (if you're nasty) one of my idols, you ask? Why on earth would a huge, lumbering hulk of white guy make one of the most famously limber African-American women in the world an idol?

Well, in order to remain in a family that is comprised of such bright lights as the alien-possessed Michael and ever-verbose Jermaine, she must have a sense of humor to rival Sid Caesar or Redd Foxx in their prime.

So why a sunburst? Why not a clown face with a nose cutout?

And then there's Joe Lieberman. Lord love a duck, I wanted Nutty Joe to become president. The only thing that would have made it even more perfect would be if he had convinced John McCain to be his vice president. Lobbyists would have run in fear, and what would be known as the Golden Age of the Soundbite would have begun.

I liked Lieberman because he was conservative enough to tick off Ted Kennedy, but liberal enough to make Rush Limbaugh froth. To me, if you can accomplish both those things at once, you're golden.

Unfortunately, Joe just wasn't telegenic or smarmy enough, and he had that annoying habit of speaking his mind. If there's one thing we've proven we can't stand, it's a leader who speaks his mind ... or who has one at all, for that matter.

And then, there's the unkindest cut of all. This betrayal by one of my icons just about sent me into the sort of tailspin you don't get out of without one of those happy pills with the laundry list of side effects that get advertised during all the television dramas.

In an interview with the BBC, Patrick Stewart, known to millions as Capt. Jean-Luc Picard on "Star Trek: The Next Generation," said that he doesn't believe in the concept of manned spaceflight, that it's too expensive and the money should be kept earthbound. Throwing a bone to us space nuts, he at least supported the idea of unmanned probes.

Now, don't get me wrong. I KNOW Patrick Stewart is his own man. I know he's not really a member of Starfleet ... but dangit, it stung. If there's one person on the planet who could do wonders for the cause of manned spaceflight, who could be the kind of spokesman who'd get checkbooks opening and engines firing, he's the one.

At this rate, I'm NEVER going to get to Mars.

Commercial Break

Could someone please enlighten me: in the current run of Quizno's Sandwich Shops commercials, what the bloody blue blazes are those singing and dancing lumps of vaguely meatlike matter supposed to be? They're just flat frightening.

And now, our weekly look at what's weird in the world at large:

Like Taking Candy From A Felon

Police in Nashua, N.H., arrested a 19-year-old man and accused him of taking a bag of candy from a 7-year-old girl in a mall pet store. The girl's mother identified Thomas Kane on mall security cameras and the cops picked him up from where he was sitting in the mall food court.

Kane reportedly confessed to taking the candy, but claimed it was part of a scavenger hunt.

I wonder if I can use that line the next time I hold up a liquor store. I'll only take the rarest single-malt Scotch.

It Can't Get Any Wurst

In a halftime move that shouldn't involve the removal of any clothing, Bundesliga, a German soccer club, has asked the sport's rules-making body to add five minutes to the halftime intermission in its games.

The extra time would allow patrons more time to get to concession stands and purchase beer and bratwurst, generating an estimated $375,000 annually for the club.

Goodness knows, you wouldn't want to miss a minute of the lively soccer action, which is exceeded in its ability to induce sleep only by cricket. No, scratch that. At least cricket is kept interesting by its complete lack of resemblance to anything approaching rational game play to the idle observer.

Soccer fans, send all your hate mail right here.

Just Winging It

A few years back, it was the Japanese, led by Takeru Kobayashi, taking over the world of American competitive eating. Now, it appears that a woman is elbowing her way into the previously male-dominated ranks of the professionally beefy.

At the Wing Bowl, the globally famous wing-eating competition that takes place in Philadelphia around Super Bowl time every year, "El Wingador," Bill Simmons, was stomped thoroughly by 99-pound Sonya Thomas, whose name you'll recall from our article on the fruitcake-eating contest.

Sonya is making quite a name for herself in the professional eating world, having beaten or at least made sweat through their XXXXL T-shirts some of the biggest names in the sport.

Keep an eye on the Coney Island Hot Dog Eating Contest on July 4 this year. Sonya may be the one to bring the mustard-yellow championship belt back to American shores.

I welcome your comments, complaints, stories and professions of undying love. Large cash grants are also accepted. Just click here, type and send.

Previous Stories:

• Jan. 30, 2004: Surviving The (NFL) Experience
• Jan. 23, 2004: I'm Eating, Here!
• Jan 16, 2004: Disturbing The Peace
• Dec. 27, 2003: The Weird Year In Review
• Dec. 12, 2003: Time's Running Out!
• Dec. 5, 2003: Gone Fishing
• Nov. 21, 2003: Weird: Revolutions
• Nov. 7, 2003: Fattening UP The Menu
• Oct. 31, 2003: Going Ghost Hunting, Part 2