Some observations and predictions from Galley Brother B.J.:

I’m trying to reread years 1 through 6 before year 7 comes out. I’m about half way through year 2 and I’ve noticed a couple of interesting things:

Everything used by Malfoy to try and kill Dumbledore in year 6 shows up in year 2. When Harry accidentally ends up in Borgin & Burkes, he hides in the vanishing cabinet (although it’s not named as a vanishing cabinet and he doesn’t close the door all the way). The necklace is spotted and it is mentioned that its cursed and has killed its last 19 muggle owners. The candle that only give light to its holder also shows up. I’m pretty sure those are the only items that get described during the visit. And later, when Harry is in Filch’s office, Peeves breaks the Hogwarts vanishing cabinet. It is identified as such.

Interestingly enough, Year 2 takes place in either 1992 or 1993; which we know because Harry, Ron, and Hermione attend the 500th anniversary of Sir Nick’s deathday. The party takes place on Halloween and the cake states that he died in October of either 1492 or 1493). I’m fairly certain this is the only time you find out exactly when the Harry Potter books take place. I think this is noteworthy because the book is copyrighted 1999. Why was this date chosen? No clue.

Finally, I notice that Deadalus Diggle comes up a lot. He’s the first wizard who’s full name you hear in year 1. And he shows up two other times before Harry makes it into Diagon Alley for the first time.

Some wild theories:

Mrs. Weasley dies in year 7. I’ve been claiming this one for a while, but now I’m willing to bet on it. Why?

* She’s the only mother figure for Harry.
* Harry has already lost 2 father figures.
* She always worries about everyone else.
* And there’s dramatic necessity. A Weasley is always placed in peril. (Year 1: Ron with the giant Wizard’s chess set; Year 2: Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets; Year 3: Ron abducted by Sirius; Year 4: Ron at the bottom of the lake; Year 5: Mr. Weasley in the Ministry of Magic; Year 6: Ron with the poisoned mead and Bill during the battle at Hogwarts.) It’s become such a common occurrence that there’s no suspense left when one of them is in trouble. To make year 7 dangerous, it makes sense to put a Weasley in danger early on and then kill them–just so J.K. can let readers know that she isn’t fracking around.

I go with Mrs. Weasley instead of Ron because you just can’t kill Ron at the start of year 7 and I think this death needs to come early on in order to make the rest of the book feel dangerous. Everyone knows a big death is coming; most people expect it won’t come until the end. Kill someone early and the stakes have been upped for everything that comes afterward.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xsQ-KzDRFCI]

That. Just. Happened.

There seems to be some agitation over a new Marvel statue of Mary Jane, pictured below.

It’s unclear to me if people are bothered because M.J. is washing Spidey’s costume or because she looks like she’s on loan from the WWE’s “Diva” squad. That said, there’s a long, proud history of comic book cheesecake, much of which has even made its way into the comic statuette business as of late. Check out, for instance, this insane recent Supergirl:

Frankly, I’m surprised she’s not depicted here fighting off an attack from some randy tentacles. But the most ludicrous serving of cheesecake in recent years has been DC’s continuing fetishization of Power Girl, who has become something like a combination of Wonder Woman and 1995-era Pam Anderson.

Anyway, no matter how advanced and sophisticated comic books get, one suspects that they will never completely outgrow their pin-up roots. So if M.J. is getting the same treatment as the super-heroines, then I suppose there’s no harm in it.

Surely you remember the Vanderbilt hoopsters? Well, courtesy of Redskins Super Fan P.G., here’s a crew of guys doing a dorm room dunk contest. It’s pretty sick:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wra8iY3SGpI]

Now that’s just the appetizer, check out this “in memorium” sequel, complete with grainy, sepia footage.

Charles Barkley–who might as well be Cincinnatus in my book–now claims he isn’t a Republican (and never was). He says some beautiful things.

I wonder if we’ll be seeing more of this in the next couple years: People who are basically conservative being repulsed from the Republican party in general by the incompetence of the Bush administration?

First Chuck Liddell makes the cover of ESPN Magazine and now NBC sports has an interview with him. If you follow this stuff at all, the proposed Tito Ortiz-Dana White fight sounds a bit too much like Vince McMahon stepping into the square circle. I’m glad it didn’t happen.

So I’m reading a story from an April WSJ on the rise of militant atheism in Europe and the lead subject is a celebrity philosopher named Michel Onfray. In what may be the most damning line ever used to describe a subject, reporter Andrew Higgins give us this gem:

“Mr. Onfray, 48 years old and author of 32 books . . .”

Really, after that, what else do you need to know?

Last political post of the month, I promise.

Slate‘s Emily Blazeon writes of a certain person seeking the Oval Office:

This is a man whose life is filled with poisoned intimate relationships and who appears to be responsible for much of the poisoning. It’s not only the religious or the uptight that can be put off by an utter lack of personal morality in a presidential candidate.

Really? I seem to remember a time not very long ago when a political party for which 99 percent of Slate‘s staff seems to vote every year insisting that exactly the opposite was true.

I say this not to chastise my friends at Slate–goodness knows this change in worldview can only be positivie–but merely to welcome them to the Land of the Unsophisticated Prigs.

I can only hope that they’ll still think this way after Giuliani loses the GOP nomination and Hillary wins the Democratic one.