I don’t know if you’ve ever watched Important Things with Demitri Martin on Comedy Central, but it is actually a very funny show. When I first saw the promos for it, I was a little put off by the hipster vibe that Demitri gives off, what with his primary-colored wardrobe choices and shaggy hair.

But I got past that one night, and it is definitely good for some laughs. Each show has a central theme, and this one is “Coolness.”

Check out some dads who refuse to give up on being cool just because they happen to be carrying their babies around.

I don’t get it.

Jon Gosselin has a semi-popular (and I do mean semi) popular reality show that is based around his family life, and when his family life implodes, dude goes nuts. And yet, he is followed around by the tabloids as if he were Brad Pitt. In fact, I think he is actually getting more tabloid coverage than Brad, if one can believe that.

Is it because he’s dating young blondes? Is it because he always looks so very clueless? Or because he has essentially abandoned his children to go partying and gallivanting about on other people’s yachts?

As I said before, I don’t get it.

But what flummoxes me (flummox being my third-favorite word in the English language) is why the women are dating him at all. He has left the state his children reside in and gotten himself a bachelor pad! So much for placing importance on his kids! In my eyes, he isn’t even remotely intelligent, or handsome, or witty, or any other criteria that most people have for a boyfriend. And at this point in time, certainly isn’t behaving like prime dad material, which is supposed to melt women’s hearts.

Maybe it’s the earring?

For some reason, though, he is being celebrated and courted by the media. And the blondes.

But you know that if a mother did the same thing, left the state and went around hooking up with hot young boy toys, she would be excoriated as a horrible mother from coast to coast. Now that I think about it, with eight young children, I’m betting there wouldn’t be many guys even willing to go out with her on a lunch date.

Based on the Jon Gosselin experience, it’s still definitely a man’s world out there.

Especially when all the chicks can apparently overlook the fact that he is wearing sneakers with no socks.

God, I hope his name was James. He bought me lunch, you’d think I could make a point of remembering. At this point in Blogathon, however, 20 hours in, I’m lucky if I can remember how to use the alphabet.

In any case, James, while appreciating a good snark and laugh as much as the next man, specifically requested that I post something genuinely moving tonight, and as I was sifting through my Tumblr for blog fodder, I found this video, and played it.

And I started to cry.

So here, James. This aught to do it even if you HAVEN’T stayed up all night. Behold one of the living natural treasures of the West Coast, Shane Koyczan, performing his spoken word poetry on Beethoven.

This is a Blogathon post. Don’t just sit there, SPONSOR ME!

I’ll just let him say it, since he does it so well.

From his speech to the NAACP’s annual meeting, via Gawker.

They might think they’ve got a pretty jump shot or a pretty good flow, but our kids can’t all aspire to be LeBron or Lil Wayne. I want them aspiring to be scientists and engineers, doctors and teachers, not just ballers and rappers. I want them aspiring to be a Supreme Court justice. I want them aspiring to be president of the United States of America.

Amen.

I know a great many children of late-in-life parents who wish their Dads could be a little more Action Man and a little less Reaction Man.

That’s a physics joke, right there. No, it’s totally hilarious if you’re an old-skool Newtonian, I’m telling you.

Someone should build a game around this premise, and the one who dies in the Barcalounger with the most remotes wins.

And here’s our quote of the day, from Paul Drielsma in the NYT, via Kottke:

Scour the parenting forums on the Internet and you’ll find the common lament that “DH” (darling husband) expects a medal whenever he “babysits” junior for a few hours. I have little sympathy for DH in these cases, but maybe a step in the right direction would be to stop using language that suggests hired help — to stop referring to DH’s job in the same terms as somebody who could legitimately stick his hand out at the end of his shift and demand a tip. DH isn’t babysitting, he’s parenting, and just changing that one word changes, for me at least, all sorts of connotations.

Perhaps a few learning aids would help?