Picks

WEDNESDAYAUGUST 11

MAXIMUM PENALTY

It's hard to imagine that any film's depiction of soccer fanaticism in Colombia could be exaggerated, given what happened to poor Andres Escobar. During the 1994 World Cup, the respected veteran defender accidentally deflected a ball into his own net, sending his team on an early flight back to Bogota. Escobar was gunned down soon after by a "fan." Fortunately, there's a far more endearing side to the insanity of Colombian futbol fanship, a side that director Jorge Echeverry tapped into with his 2000 film, Maximum Penalty. It tells the tale of a man whose obsession with an upcoming match against Argentina takes a serious toll on both his work and family obligations. It is preceded by a seemingly more somber short film, a meditation on the idea of evil, interestingly enough, titled Evil. Socrates Sculpture Park, 32-01 Vernon Blvd. (B'way), LIC, 718-956-1819; 7, free.

THURSDAYAUGUST 12

POLITICAL IMAGE-MAKING AND TELEVISION

If Tip O'Neil were alive today, he might have said: "Politics isn't local. It's superficial." Since the advent of tv and images of JFK frolicking along the Cape's sands, his beautiful wife keeping a watchful gaze, voters prefer their candidates to be easy on the eyes. Whether blessed with good looks or a good botox needle, politicians know that image trumps policy. It's why Al Gore donned earth-tone sweaters. It's why Kerry rides a Harley. It's why Nader tucks in his shirt once a week. The Museum of Television & Radio presents a variety of programs that address this concept. 25 W. 52nd St. (betw. 5th & 6th Aves.), 212-621-6600; 12-6, $10, $8 s.c./st.

GILBERT GOTTFRIED

Fresh off VH1's "What the F*ck?" moment of 1989, Brooklyn's own Gilbert Gottfried will be doing one night only at Caroline's. Gottfried's reputation has been unfairly marred by such misguided endeavors as the Problem Child trilogy, as well as the time he opened for a Debbie Gibson concert, forever corrupting thousands of electric youths with his foul-mouthed routine. He may not be a comic genius, but at the very least he's demented and self-deprecating. And he was the parrot in Aladdin. (That movie's completely worthless without the parrot.) And have you ever seen him on Hollywood Squares? He makes Jim J. Bullock look like a fucking amateur. 1626 B'way (betw. 49th & 50th Sts.), 212-757-4100; 8, $21.50 + 2 drink min.

FRIDAYAUGUST 13

BOWLING COACHING CONFERENCE

USA Bowling Coaching has a mission: to provide quality training programs, instructional tools and services for bowling instructors, coaches and the bowling community. If the words of legendary bowling coach Lowell Lovgren are any indication, then mission accomplished. After attending a recent Bronze Coaching Certification Conference, an excited Lovgren noted, "I have learned very much from this conference." The three-day seminar has finally made its way to the Big Apple, a town currently suffering from a serious lack of bowling-not to mention bowling coaching-with only three bowling alleys open in all of Manhattan. However, please bear in mind that this conference is only a bronze-level conference. For advanced instruction on skills like celebratory breakdancing on the well-oiled lanes, aspiring coaches will need to wait until a silver-level course comes eastward. New Fiesta Bowl, 2826 Westchester Ave. (betw. Mulford & Mayflower Aves.), Bronx, res. req. 800-514-BOWL; call for times, $245.

SATURDAYAUGUST 14

BLACKOUT FILM FESTIVAL

You've seen the hours of poorly lit amateur footage on public access television. Now see what the professionals and their cameras were up to on the day that Canada flipped our switch. Cleverly named Blackout Films presents an evening of selected shorts from the young and upcoming filmmakers lucky enough to have had fully charged batteries. Hopefully, the fond reminiscences will remind everyone how much fun was had and jumpstart a widespread electricity-wasting campaign in the efforts of making this a yearly thing. Why? Because we want a day off, and the homeless were born to direct traffic. Party afterward with DJ Big Willie Shoemaker & Secretariat. OfficeOps, 57 Thames St. (betw. Morgan & Knickerbocker Aves.), Williamsburg, 718-418-2509; 8, free.

FASHION & MUSIC EXTRAVAGANZA

Last time we made it out to Lot 61, we were greeted by a linebacker bouncer acting not unlike Suge Knight in a bad mood. And we were cut off from the open bar 15 minutes early for some reason. That's pretty much what you'd expect from an overrated club that caters to the shirttails-out, collars-up crowd. Expect more of the same tonight as Mickey Dread, Troy Kristoff, Paul Diamond and others perform for a music/fashion/birthday party for Wannabes-producer Rob Dale, whoever that is. 550 W. 21st St. (11th Ave.), 212-243-6555; 10, $20.

SUNDAYAUGUST 15

NAS

He excels, then prevails. The mic is contacted; he attracts clientele. His mic check is life or death. Breathing a sniper's breath, he exhales the yellow smoke of Buddha through righteous steps. And all before most people get out of bed in the morning. It's true-just ask Kelis. Who is this Parks Department, that's so scared of a half-million convention protestors trudging their boots on the fresh grass, only to turn around and arrange a free Sunday afternoon of blazing-hot insanity with none other than the Afrocentric Asian, half-man, half-amazing? Early predictions have attendance in the low billions, so revelers should consider arriving (days, weeks) early. But that's assuming it's the beloved Nasty Nas that's showing up, and not that Nastradamus guy. That dude sucks. Central Park SummerStage, 72nd St. (midpark), 212-360-2754; 3, $10 sugg. don.

HELLO KITTY DAY AT SHEA

Possibly the best promotional giveaway for Mets fans 12 and under since 1993, when Vince Coleman distributed lit fireworks from his car window to kids in his way at the Shea parking lot. Fewer injured children are expected this time around, although fighting and tantrums are always a possibility. After all, this is Hello Kitty we're talking about, and only the first 12,000 kids will receive the adorable stuffed feline. Hello Kitty brings the same style and grace to Flushing as she has throughout her career, sporting the vintage pinstriped Mets uniform with the matching blue cap balanced nicely over her token red bow. It's a wonderful way to celebrate Hello Kitty's 30th anniversary, as well as Kazuo Matsui's many fielding errors this season. The Amazin's will be playing Arizona, in case you give a shit, but so long as the playoff run is over, can we talk some more about that Vince Coleman thing? Firecrackers! Shea Stadium, 123-01 Roosevelt Ave. (126th St.), Flushing, 718-507-TIXX; 1:10, $14-$48.

MONDAYAUGUST 16

THE NAKED OLYMPICS

Nothing is the way it used to be, especially the Olympics. As Tony Perrottet points out in his new book, ancient atheletes used to compete in the nude, covered with olive oil. Games sometimes ended in death. And literary events were part of the mix: Herodotus debuted his History at the games in 440 B.C. 2500 years later, Half King is at least reviving the last tradition with a reading by Perrottet, but we bet most of the patrons will really be dreaming of those naked, oily Greeks. 505 W. 23rd St. (10th Ave.), 212-462-4300; 7, free.

TUESDAYAUGUST 17

THE ART OF THE COCKTAIL

Face it. There's nothing more worthy of your patronage than this chance to drink for free (on a Tuesday night) alongside tipsy soccer moms searching earnestly for the latest in copper cookware. Sure, you had plans, but these broke down irreparably with your fourth Sea-Breeze at happy hour. Plus, you're dead broke. Solution? Head to Williams-Sonoma, where bartending geniuses will whip you up the latest in cutting-edge concoctions. Time Warner Center, 10 Columbus Circle (Central Park W.), 212-823-9756; 7, free.

JOHN MAYER

"Over you/I'm never over/over you/something about you/it's just the way you move/the way you move me." I defy anyone to write worse lyrics than these. Unless your name's John Mayer, it's impossible. Mayer is worse than a discount Dave Matthews or a face plastered up on sorority walls; he's a fountain of songs oozing with pseudo-sensitivity, a radio star that video forgot to kill. Not to mention that the 26-year-old is an NYC arriviste. (Hey Mayer, heard of our Most Loathsome issue?) Fitting that Maroon 5, the worst band out of Los Angeles' grunge-pop scene, is opening. If your sister's going, kick her ass. If your friends are going, kick your own. PNC Bank Arts Center, Exit 116, Garden State Pkwy., Holmdel, NJ, 732-203-2500; 7, $35.50 & $46.50.

Contributors: Laurel Angrist, Lionel Beehner, Priya Jain, Jim Knipfel, Dan Migdal.