DRAFT Magazine

The French author won the 2008 Nobel Prize in Literature yesterday. It’s quite an accomplishment for the 68-year-old, who wrote a whole bunch of books we’ve never heard of, much less read. The committee called him an “author of new departures, poetic adventure and sensual ecstasy, explorer of a humanity beyond and below the reigning civilization,” which is both impressive and totally opaque.

Le Clezio, who perfectly was reading Stig Dagerman’s “Dictatorship of Sorrow” when he received the call announcing his award, will receive 10 million Swedish kronor, or about $1.4 million. He can obviously afford a beer, but he’ll probably spend it on wine or something silly like that. So the next one’s on DRAFT, monsieur.

(While we’re at it, let’s buy a beer for all the American writers who missed out yet again on winning the award. It’s been 15 years since someone from the United States took home the top prize. C’mon guys and gals, that Great American Novel isn’t going to write itself.)

More than 50 years ago, a man stole a 35-cent toy from a store in Abilene, Kansas. Last week, a letter arrived on the desk of the town’s mayor, apologizing for the theft and containing two $5 bills. The missive, signed simply “Bob,” read: “In either 1943 or 1944 I traveled thru Abelene, Kansas and went into a 5 & 10 cent store. While there I picked up a 35 cent toy car. I am not proud that I walked out of the store without paying for the toy and I have lived with this for well over 50 years.”

City Manager Allen Dinkel donated the money to the Toys for Tots program.

“Bob,” for caring you deserve an ice cold beer. Drink it with a clear conscience.

It seems like just yesterday Matt Damon and buddy Ben Affleck were onstage at the Oscars, celebrating their unlikely Oscar win for “Good Will Hunting,” yet somehow, 11 years have passed. Since then, Affleck has married J-Lo, starred in some truly horrendous flicks, and fallen off the face of the Earth he saved in “Armageddon.” Damon, who turns 38 today, became the new James Bond, had his way with Sarah Silverman, and proved Will had a good head on his shoulders. Different strokes, different folks.

All Damon’s hard work deserves a beer. Being from Boston, a Sam Adams seems appropriate. After all, you can take the boy out of Southie, but you can’t take Southie out of the boy.

(Jason Bourne is one thing, but for our money, though, he’s at his best in “Team America: World Police.” Enjoy the video.)

Maybe it’s just us, but it sure seems like this week has been a hellish one. And amazingly, it’s only Tuesday. Between the stock market, the layoffs, and the endless coverage of the Presidential election (yes, it’s important, but does it really need to be shoved down our throats quite so much?), the bad news hasn’t stopped since… well, we can’t remember when. It’s been a constant assault of falling numbers, dire predictions, and generally miserable conditions, and it’s starting to get us down.

At least we still have beer. And lots of it. So pull up a stool to the bar, take out the credit card, and buy a drink for yourself and the person next to you. Sure, that may be what got us in this mess in the first place, but we all deserve a drink. Besides, if everyone follows suit, we might just simulate the economy. Hey, it’s not like anything else has worked.

Well, that could have gone better. After a regular season that went far and a way beyond anyone’s expectations, Lou Pinella’s Chicago Cubs were swept out of the playoffs yesterday by Joe Torre’s Los Angeles Dodgers. The defeat marks yet another year of failure for the long-suffering Cubbies fans, loyal to a team that hasn’t won a World Series since before beer was invented. (Maybe it just seems that long.)

The good news is that Chicago bars won’t have to worry about suspending beer sales during games when the Cubs could clinch. Actually, that’s not good news at all. That’s just insult added to injury upon injury. So a six-pack is more appropriate. But hey, you could be Mets fans.

Ethan Zohn won Survivor: Africa. Then he decided to save the world. The former professional soccer player used part of his winnings to co-found Grassroot Soccer, an organization dedicated to raising AIDS awareness in Africa by training footballers to teach children about the disease. So far, 250,000 students have graduated from its programs.

Zohn is currently midway through dribbling a soccer ball from Boston to Washington D.C. in support of his cause. Each day, he’s going 15 more miles. We had the pleasure of meeting him yesterday when he stopped in Manhattan to play in a charity soccer game. He’s a great guy championing an even better cause and we wish him the best of luck. If you happen to be anywhere between New York and D.C., buy the man a drink. He’ll be the one with the soccer ball.

Yes, the great Dadaist and Surrealist artist passed on 40 years ago today, but the man who made art from a bicycle wheel and a urinal deserves one nonetheless. At his best, Duchamp was a fun-loving goofball who played upon the ridiculousness of culture. We think he’d appreciate the irony of buying a long gone man a beer.

(Fun Duchamp fact: Did you know he became so obsessed with chess during the 1920s that his first wife glued the pieces to the board? They divorced four years later. He kept the chess set.)

On second thought, getting a whole beer for him seems a little over the top. He’d probably want you to drink most of it. So buy a beer for yourself and pour a little bit out for the Frenchman. In a urinal, of course.

Restart the endless guitar solos: The legendary Vermont jam band Phish is reuniting for three shows next March in Virginia’s Hampton Coliseum. The group broke up in 2004, but singer-guitarist Trey Anastasio, keyboardist Page McConnell, bassist Mike Gordon and drummer Jon Fishman clearly couldn’t stay apart forever. (The fact that none of their solo careers took off probably helped speed the reunion as well.)

Tickets for the shows can be purchased on the band’s Web site, but get ‘em soon as they are sure to sell out. Phish is also reportedly planning to announce more dates in 2009 in the near-ish future.

Given the group’s traditional hippie fan base a joint is perhaps the more appropriate present, but we’re happy to spring for four pints. Since Ben and Jerry’s doesn’t make beer, we’ll go with something from Magic Hat.

Let’s get this straight: These pirates off the Somalian coast saw a Ukrainian freighter ship, highjacked it, and then found out it was loaded with weapons worth $30 million? Really? Actually, it turns out that’s exactly what happened.

“We just saw a big ship,” the pirates’ spokesman, Sugule Ali, told The New York Times. “So we stopped it.” Then said pirates realized it was loaded with tanks, artillery, grenade launchers and everything short of suitcase nukes Jack Bauer spends his days chasing.

That has to be either the best luck of all time or the worst. If we were pirates — not for Halloween, like actual, Captain Jack Sparrow pirates — we would imagine a ship full of weapons would be an ideal bounty… right up until the entire free world started paying attention, decided you couldn’t have them, and that, oh while they were at it, maybe they should do something about the pirating on the high seas in general.

So, yo ho, yo ho. Drink up me ‘earties. The next round’s on us, guys.

(Finally, how great is it that the pirates have a spokesman?)

Last night, The New York Mets completed its second epic collapse in as many seasons, missing the playoffs by one game after a loss to the Florida Marlins (average age: 18.5). The failure reached new levels of pain, even for the terminally depressed blue and orange fan base. Will Leitch, formerly of the sports blog Deadspin, put it best in New York Magazine, writing “I was legitimately worried that someone in the SNY broadcast booth was going to jump out of the booth and kill himself.” Thankfully, that didn’t happen. At least we haven’t heard about it. Yet.

If there is a silver lining (buried deep, more than six feet under), it’s that last night marked the final game ever played in the brutality that is Shea Stadium. Having been to most of the ballparks in this great country, we can honestly say we’ve never enjoyed watching a game less than we did taking one in at the soulless Queens venue. Next year, the Amazins begin again with a new park and a new pitching staff. And hopefully locks on the windows of the broadcast booths.

So for all you Mets fans out there, enjoy one last Bud Light in an overpriced souvenir cup. It’s going to be a long off-season.