One Week In, The NBA Exists

Well, this story is starting with the decided lack of a bang, isn’t it? I guess it depends on what you consider a bang to be. For me, my beloved Bucks reverting back to the pre-Skiles era of playing no defense and being absolute loser-faces in every way has sort of taken the “fun” out of this NBA season so far. It looks like I’ll have to look elsewhere for my fun. For example, how is Miami?

Welcome to Miami (eebee eebee ee Meeyammi).

They have played three games, looking like a bitter chemistry set explosion in a game one loss against Boston, a decent team in game two against Philadelphia, and the Best Team Ever last night in a total dismantling of Orlando. At this point, by game thirty the NBA will just hand them the trophy and disband the league. Hey, it will save us a lockout next year, right?

Death talks about unleashing its sickle.

David Stern was so very stern two weeks ago, when he talked about possible contraction of one of the league’s “lesser” and “total loser” teams, such as Minnesota, Memphis, Milwaukee, and other teams that start with the letter M and don’t end in “iami.” He was just kidding for labor-negotiation purposes, I promise. But this doesn’t bode well for the story of NEXT year, which will probably be played out in the media and behind closed doors rather than on the basketball court.

This week, Mr. Stern again repeated what is hopefully not true, which is that the NBA intends to have a 5-team European division within 10 years. It’s odd – 10 years ago, this idea seemed crazy. Now, with the continued popularity of Eurobasket and the yearly infusion of foreigners into the bloodstream of the NBA, it almost makes sense. But still, it’s a stupid idea.

Dwight Howard Gets Baptized

Orlando superduperstar center Dwight Howard, who has been an outspoken Christian since he came into the league, just got baptized in some giant church in Orlando. Score one for the anabaptists. I’m not usually concerned about the public failings of celebrities (being that there’s nothing special about them), but I hope this extra unnecessary baptism keeps him from fathering love-babies and nakedly pursuing former porn stars. And no, I’m not going to link to the stories. What kind of blog do you think this is?

(The truth is, I like Dwight Howard and root for him. But I root harder for Christianity to be set free from the failings of Christians. Sorry.)

Relevant Players Who Are Ungrateful For What They Have And Want To Be Traded.

“Melo,” or Carmelo Anthony, who can’t stand one more minute of being on a pretty good team in the beautiful mountain city of Denver.

“Iggy,” or Andre’ Iguodala, who hates everything about Philadelphia ever since he got to play with GOOD players in the Olympics.

“Rudy,” or Rudy Fernandez, who would rather be in Spain right now, but if he’s going to be forced to make millions in the NBA, he wants it to be in New York, because he “likes being around a**holes.”

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The NBA is starting, and LeBron is on the Beach

The preseason is here.

We need something to distract us from the carnage going on in baseball (with the Yankees primed to purchase some more world series rings) and football (with the Packers’ entire second string about to start, and the Brett Favre still existing).

We’ve never needed the NBA more than right now.

Thankfully, the season is right around the corner.  If you close your eyes and sniff, you can smell it.  The gym socks.  The money.  The betrayal of cities by mega-stars.  Yep, that’s basketball, alright.  Isn’t it wonderful?

Which brings us to what we’re doing with the NBA this year.  Every season is like a sprawling, idiotic novel — full of all-too-human characters, surprise twists, strippers, night-time arrests, and ghost-like corruption that shows up, does its business, then disappears so fast you can’t even confirm it was ever there.  It’s hard to find protagonists in such a mess, but we’re going to try.

So let’s start with the BIG background-defining story that happened over the off-season:

BronBron the Destroyer

BronBron the Destroyer

Lebron-Wade-Bosh in Miami.  Stop for a second and think about how weird this situation is.  I know we’ve all had a couple months to get used to this whole thing, but it bears a refresher:  The league’s best player (LeBron) jumped from his team to the third best player’s (Wade’s) team, along with a fellow U.S. Olympian and budding reality TV star (Bosh) simply because they thought it would be fun to play together and dominate the league.  Think about how anti-competitive that is.  Add a few points for style, sure, but subtract several thousand for ruining the entire economic structure of the NBA.  The whole collective bargaining agreement DEPENDS on players being greedy.  This has never been a problem before.  When a player takes less money to play with friends in an attempt to win championships together, what is NBA Commissioner David Stern supposed to do?

Part of me, and not an insignificant part, wants to root for these guys.  It’s always refreshing to see a guy take less money to stay with his team like Wade did.  If I were a dominant NBA player, I’d see myself totally wanting to play with my NBA friends, and taking less money to do so.  Also, they didn’t go to New York, which is always a plus.  So why do I think they’re the main antagonists in this year’s NBA story?  Well…

Enough has already been said about ESPN’s “The Decision.”  It was a terrible idea for everyone involved — let’s just leave it at that.  But because it was a bona-fide TV “event,” we will forever remember the EXACT moment LeBron James betrayed Cleveland.  We know precisely what that looks like.  It’s impossible to look at LeBron as anything other than a clueless selfish bastard after “The Decision.”  It made him look like the Brett Favre of the NBA, only in his prime and (if this is possible) even less justified.  Actually, the parallels between LeBron and Brett are numerous and interesting.  But we’re not going to bring up that Randy Moss-loving piece of doo-doo here.  This is a family blog.  My mom has to read this.

Bottom line: NBA stars are so far-removed from 99% of NBA fans that it’s nearly impossible for there to be any understanding between the two.  This is a theme that’s going to pop up a LOT.  For example, when LeBron says that his mother told him to “just do whatever he wants to,” so he did, I’ll bet he expected that to resonate with people.  Lots of moms give that kind of advice. But the average NBA fan’s mom would have the good sense to advise their son AGAINST betraying an entire region of fans that idolize him, especially if he grew up there. So this whole “did what would make me happy” thing looked less understandable and more like, as Homer Simpson would say, “Pro athletes — always wanting more.”

And I’m tired of LeBron’s statements since the betrayal, which have ranged from vague threats to media members who (rightly) called him out about this whole situation to the most generic “haters gon hate” talk you could imagine.  If I could pick one thing about America in 2010 that I would change, it’s the emergence of the umbrella term “hater.”  Apparently taking responsibility for one’s actions and apologizing for hurting people are weak, undesirable traits that needed to be done away with.  Too often “haters” are just people who get in the way of one’s selfish insanity or myopia.

ANYWAY.  The Triple Entente (as good a nickname as any I’ve heard — beats The Triple Axis Powers) also decided to gather in Miami, a city that doesn’t care about basketball because drugs and boobies are so readily available there.  Putting this great storyline in Miami is such a waste.  It’s worse even than LA, which doesn’t care about anything but fame but at least has a rich NBA history.

So yes, I’ll be rooting for massive Miami failure just like everyone else.  But can anyone beat them?  The defending champion Lakers have a couple-year head-start in terms of chemistry, and their players have a complimentary skill-set.  They also have the second-best player in the league, and a better coach.  So it’s looking more and more that this will be one of those grim “foregone conclusion” NBA years, where everyone knows what’s going to happen but we still have to play the season.  If Miami meets LA in the NBA Finals, this story’s ending will be a complete failure.  There’s nobody to root for in that pairing, only two bad basketball towns that got good because they happen to have nice climates and beautiful citizens.  Screw warm weather.  They have, as of this writing, invented things like “coats” to deal with the cold.  It’s true, look it up on Wikipedia.  NBA players are such wimps.

But seriously, LA is only this good because of the extremely fishy Pau Gasol trade of a couple years ago.  And we’ve already covered the Miami thing.  So we’ve definitely identified a couple of our villains.  Unfortunately, the story seems stacked decidedly in their favor.  Can anyone stop them?  Will anyone even try?  If they do, will the NBA rig the playoffs so they get a Miami-LA Finals?

In that case, I will hate.  You betcha.

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Sita Sings the Blues

I’ve got a standing rule:  If a piece of entertainment features a monkey army, I’m in.  So when I saw this clip on the Onion’s AV club:

Naturally, I needed to see the whole movie, because that is some crazy imaginative monkey-based animation right there.  Thankfully, the movie it came from — Sita Sings the Blues — is distributed by its creator, Nina Paley, under a creative commons license.  It’s available for free download at sitasingstheblues.com, or for streaming at countless other sites (the full movie is even on Youtube). So I clicked some stuff and within seconds was watching a movie that I just found out existed.  This is how the internet should always work, right?

Anyway, Sita Sings the Blues is an animated musical retelling (and at least partial satire) of the Ramayana, an ancient Sanskrit epic tale where an “Hindu Ideal Man” and “Avatar of Vishnu” named Rama loves a “Hindu Ideal Woman” and “Avatar of Lakshmi” named Sita, which results in all sorts of ancient drama like kidnapping, war, and tearful break-ups.  This epic tale is interspersed with Nina Paley’s own tearful break-up with some guy named Dave.  Nina’s story is told in sparse squigglevision animation, while the Ramayana parts are given life through three different styles of animation.  Since it’s free to copy, here’s a 10-minute clip with examples of all three styles. plus some Nina stuff at the beginning:

So you have the modern shadow-puppets trying to recall things about the story, the painted figures giving the characters a voice, and, most importantly, the crazy flash-animated exposition of the story where Sita sings with the words of 1920s jazz singer Annette Hanshaw.  All of this flows together to create an irreverent but somewhat respectful version of the Ramayana, at least for the first two-thirds of the movie.  The stars of the show are clearly the otherworldly animation sequences and the voice of Hanshaw, whose constant devotion to “her man” fits Sita’s thoughts perfectly.

Things take a darker (and more controversial) turn about an hour into the film, when Dave breaks up with Nina via e-mail and the newly crowned King Rama has his brother abandon his pregnant wife Sita in the woods because his subjects can’t respect a man who takes a woman back who has lived in another man’s house, even if that woman was only there because she was kidnapped.  It’s at this point that the movie gets a little prickly and feminist, though still cartoonish and funny.  For an example, take my favorite scene, which is delicious but (as Homer Simpson would say) also a little sacrilicious.   The bouncing sing-a-long ball is a nice touch:

So clearly Sita Sings the Blues is questioning the idealness of Rama, the Hindu Ideal Man.  It’s this part that has hardcore Hindus up in arms, taking to internet comment boards to deride and threaten Paley.  It’s also the part that apparently has hardcore academic postmodernists up in arms (if they even can be said to have arms), because they think that a white woman artistically questioning a non-white culture is inherently racist neocolonialism, and should be forbidden.  Thankfully, nobody really cares what postmodernists think, and we can move on and actually explore the questions.

Are human feelings universal, and if so, in what way?  Is feminism a universal value?  Ok, then, what values are universal, if any?  When feminism and Hinduism clash, who does the Baby Jesus root for?  Is it ok for an outsider to suggest that a religion is wrong about something?  These are not easy questions, but we’re not going to stop trying to find answers just because postmodernism has.  Obviously, there are some humongous issues involved here.  Which is exactly why Sita Sings the Blues is “good” art — because it makes you consider issues like this.  Also, it’s very funny.

Bonus:  The part hardcore Hindus really hate is where Rama walks all over Sita, who makes squeaky noises.  Enjoy the sadness:

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Back to Basics

Well, my website has been blacklisted — which you already knew if you’ve visited using Firefox — and I don’t know why.  I mean, I know why, but I don’t know what happened.  I’d apologize for infecting people with the spyware, but it wasn’t me.  It was the hackers.

So we’ve removed the old theme and put a picture of the dog back up, for now.  This is as it should be.  This feels right.  Maybe I’ll get un-blacklisted, and maybe I’ll get hacked again.  Who can know?

I do love that dog.

Posted in Apologies, Epth Blog Network | 2 Comments

Three Things I Learned About The NBA Last Night

I was watching the NBAtv replay of game 3 between the hapless Jazz and the eventual champion Lakers last night, the one where the Jazz blew several great opportunities to win the game and ended up down 0-3 in a series they never had a chance to win in the first place.  The game was in Utah, so it appeared to be refereed fairly.  It was then that I realized (or relearned) several things about today’s NBA:

1) Even in the playoffs, teams are not very well-coached.

Here we are at the pinnacle of basketball civilization, where giants and comparative midgets get paid millions of dollars to put a ball through a metal ring in front of an audience of millions.  You would think that two of the best teams in the game would be able to plan and execute a strategy that made sense, but you would be wrong.  Plain and simple:  The Jazz lost game three because on the the three most important Laker shots of the last three minutes, they made huge defensive tactical errors.  On two of them, NBA supahstar and pond scum Kobe Bryant was single-covered and ended up with a wide-open shot over a shorter defender.  On the other, noted white boy and bad defender Kyle Korver was running out to stop the Lakers’ elderly three-point specialist Derek Fisher, but instinctively stopped short when he thought Fisher was going to dribble-drive instead of shoot.  Now you must understand, Fisher has made about 1000 huge late-game threes over the course of his career; he also hasn’t driven the lane since 2001.  It was a huge mistake that led to yet another buried three by the Lakers.  It’s like the Jazz didn’t even scout their opponents or something.  You might want to double-team Kobe (or at least put a bigger guy on him), and you might want to prevent Fisher from shooting money threes in the last two minutes of a game.  And Jazz coach Jerry Sloan is one of the most respected coaches in the game*.

2)  The power of evil can make the difference between a win and a loss.

Even after those three errorsf, the Jazz had a chance to win the game in the final seconds.  The Lakers inexplicably let the Jazz’ best player get free for an open look from about 20 feet.  OF COURSE it didn’t go in.  Why?  Because of the Lakers’ evil power, that’s why.  You might think I’m crazy, but check this out:  Not only did the shot fail to do in, but Jazz player and former Marquette star Wesley Matthews Jr. had a perfect opportunity to tip in the miss, but it careened harmlessly off Carlos Boozer’s ego as time expired.  He was in such great position because the entire Laker team fell asleep and failed to box him out.  Which leads us to…

3) The team that wins the game is not always the team that deserves to win.

I know nobody wants to hear this.  We want our sports clearly defined into winners and losers, but we are wrong.  The fact is, both the Jazz and the Lakers deserved to win and lose, and the game was decided by a muddled cocktail of successes and failures and blown calls and mental mistakes and strategy and etc.  If I’m going to cover the NBA like a storybook, it’s going to be an honest storybook, and that means the narrative can’t follow the pattern the NBA wants — starting with the draft and ending with the championship, with the winners being the heroes.  No, the winners are rarely the heroes.  The winners are those who have more points at the end of the game, that’s all.

But for nearly all some people, that’s the only thing that matters.  For the people involved in playing basketball, the “W” means everything.  The W can get you money and everything your heart desires.  As I try to wring some meaning out of this sweaty old sock of a league, I hope the trappings of the W don’t turn out to be the most important thing in the story.  Sadly, I know they will.  Oh, and by the way,

4) Carlos Boozer sucks.

Way to go to Duke, Carlos.  Way to sue Prince.  Way to be the original Cleveland betrayer.  And way to throw the ball off the bottom of the rim in the last minute of a must-win NBA playoff game, then yell that you were fouled when nobody touched you. A class act all the way, this guy is.

*He being the same dude who refused to double-team Jordan in the NBA Finals.  “I think Bryon Russell can stop him” is one of the stupidest thoughts ever uttered to oneself by an NBA coach, ever.

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Something To Get Me Interested In Sports

As always, I have good news and I have bad news (depending on your perspective).

The good news:  I’ve figured out something to get me interested in blogging again.

HOWEVER, It’s really really sportsy.  And possibly a huge waste of time.

Let’s set it up this way:

The LeBron James Betrayal Episode got me thinking about the upcoming NBA season, and how I could not possibly be more cynical about it. For example, these are some of the things I believe about the NBA:

  • The playoffs are rigged by the refs.  Therefore, NBA championships mean nothing.  Kinda takes the point out of watching games, doesn’t it?
  • The players, almost to a man, don’t care about anything except themselves.
  • The owners, almost to a man, don’t care about anything but the money.

And so when the most popular player conceives* and produces an hour-long self-serving TV special just so he can stab his hometown in the back on live TV, and he doesn’t even seem to realize the implications of what he’s doing, there’s something truly noteworthy about that, even when viewed in the cynical context of the regular NBA.  It was like Leborn hadn’t ever considered that his once adoring fans could possibly turn on him, and that to me is amazing.

And turn on him they did, in spectacular fashion.  The world divided itself into frontrunners (those who switched their allegiances with LeBron, and now are Miami Heat fans) and haters (those who now view Lebron as weak and/or disloyal).  Jerseys were burned.  The Cavaliers owner wrote a scathing public personal attack on LeBron, mostly in all-caps.  Everybody had a hot sports opinion on it.  Lebron had become the NBA’s Brett Favre.

This LeBetrayal thing is a story worth following, I thought to myself, if only to see the fun ways the Cavaliers’ fans’ bitterness will manifest itself.  Also, how will LeBron react to being booed in every city?  Will he care?  Will he crumble?  Will he come to regret his decision and how it played out, or is he so far removed from reality that he’ll actually enjoy becoming LeBron the Evil King of Miami?

So I thought about all this, and then I thought, who better to document the NBA’s season of stories than me, a guy who has given up on sports altogether?  There are as many stories as there are players (and coaches and refs and owners and fans), and all of them deserve to be seen in the distant light of cold reality.  I’m not an ex-athlete.  I’m not a member of the media.  I’m not a journalist.  Heck, I’m not even really a fan.  I’m just a guy who knows a little basketball and who has a blog.  If that doesn’t equal “qualified” in this day and age, I’m a woodchuck.

You see, every NBA season is living literature.  You may not have realized that, but it’s true.  There are heroes, villains, falls from grace, redemptions, betrayals, scandals, romances, and yes, even death.  It’s time that someone saw the NBA for what it truly is: A giant cyclical storybook.

Once upon a time, there was a King who loved his rich friends more than his subjects…

*Actually, it was reportedly Jim Gray’s idea, which makes perfect sense.  The lesson:  If Jim Gray suggests you do something that involves him, RUN.

Posted in Apologies, Sports, Stories | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

And The Winner Is…

I’m writing a bunch of books right now.  The problem is, every time I get going on a book I like, I think of an even better idea for a book I haven’t written yet.  Some of them turn into short stories, and some of them sit there like sheep waiting to be herded, staring at me and my pen as if I know where they should be going.  So I’ve got a bunch of stray sheep glaring holes in me, and it’s a bit of a burden.  But thinking about this burden keeps me sane and unbored, so I suppose I should be thankful for it.

I’ve decided to actually finish a book now, so we’ll see how that goes.  It’s a bunch of short stories that pretend to be questions, but are really challenges to our current U.S. worldview.  Yeah, like all my ideas, it’s hard to explain until you see it.  I’ve shown a couple of these to some friends and got pretty much the reaction I wanted, so I’ll keep plugging along.  Do you want to read one?  Ok.

(some of you have already seen this and been offended by it, so forgive me all over again…and if you want it in Microsoft .doc format — here you go.)

There is a man who successfully wins a public office…let’s say he was just elected as Dog-Catcher. He has all these new and exciting ideas on how to best catch dogs, and he narrowly edged the incumbent DC using a platform based on these ideas. It’s not going to be easy to get his ideas implemented, though; the Netists are lurking around every corner, and this defeat has made them more vocal and partisan than ever before.

Perhaps a brief explanation and history of Wayward Dog Redemption (WDR) methods is in order, not that it really matters. There are people in this unnamed city who believe without reservation that the only appropriate and effective way to catch dogs is with a net. They self-identify as Netists, and for many of them, it is their life’s passion. Their symbol is a Net flanked by a wild boar on the left and a beaker on the right, which symbolizes their frontier spirit and unassailable reason, respectively. They’re a pretty tight-knit and well-connected bunch, keeping in touch and in spirit with radio shows, newsletters, and nightly meetings in the Old Town Hall’s chilly basement. What the election of this new dog-catcher means for them is the probable end of the dog-catching world. Their goals with the radio show, newsletter, and meetings are mainly (a) to research legal challenges to the election; and (b) to speculate and articulate re: the demise of dog-catching, and with it, society as a whole.

On the other side lie the progressive-minded techno-thinkers who couldn’t come up with a suitable name for themselves, so the world has adopted a monker for them: Non-netists. They believe that Netists are borderline fascist barbarians whose destiny is the same as all barbarians — namely, extinction. They communicate primarily in buzzwords designed to make themselves feel smart. It was they who started referring to dog-catching as WDR, and the Dog-Catcher as the WDS (Wayward Dog Saviour, always with the British “u.”). It’s not that they hate nets, it’s that there’s so many better (and more humane, and cooler-looking) ways to redeem wayward dogs these days. The newly-elected Dog-Catcher promised to deploy things such as drugged water bowls and dog hypnosis, which are the very cutting edge of WDR technology right now. The Non-netists have taken their victory as a literal and figurative blank check to pursue newer and better things, which has only increased the vitriol of those who believe in the redeeming power of Nets. This is pretty much where we stand right now.

You are a fly on the wall of one of the Netist chilly closed-door anger-festivals under Old Town Hall. Everyone is wearing coats and frowns. Even though you are a fly, you can understand English. If this seems weird, just say to yourself, “It’s just a question, I should really just relax.” The Netists are trying to determine the motives of the technology-rich but (to them) morality-poor Non-netists. The new Dog Catcher’s plan is pure insanity to them — 1.3 times as expensive, but almost certainly less effective than the Old Way of doing things. Plus, he’s planning on renaming the very sacred office he holds! At least that’s what someone heard someone else say once. They discuss his arrogance, his messiah complex (they might have a point — “dog saviour” anyone?), and his Orwellian future plans.

It’s your job, as a fly on the wall, to decide which of their ideas with regard to the motives of the Non-netists and their new Wayward Dog Saviour is correct. You have three choices:

A) They actually think the new technology is better, and want to catch dogs more effectively and humanely.

B) They hate the city.

C) They want the new DC’s methods to fail so that the city is overrun by wild, unkempt, ownerless, and potentially rabid dogs so that the citizenry will have no choice but to accept their sweeping diabolical “Plan B,” which involves state ownership of all dogs, mandatory feeding times, food rations, free veterinary care (for which it takes weeks to get an appointment), government-employed dog-walkers, compulsory spaying and neutering, and ultimately, the complete annihilation of dogs from the face of the earth1.

At the same time as this orgy of disillusionment is going on, the winners are having their First Annual Dog Saviour’s Ball in the Old Town Hall’s Grand Ballroom, which happens to be directly above the ceiling on which you are sticking. We could have you fly up there, being a fly and all, but I’d prefer to just give you directional super hearing, otherwise known as Super-Fly Hearing. With your fly ears, you can make out everything the people upstairs are saying. In between commenting on how nice everyone else looks, the Non-netist elite are trying to determine the motives of the old-school but (to them) anachronistic Netists. The old way of doing Dog Redemption seemed like pure insanity to them — more expensive in the long-term and unfair to the very dogs being redeemed. Plus, the whole concept of Dog Catching conjures up terribly barbaric images of uniformed men with nets chasing poor orphaned mutts, which is why they think the name must be changed to something less offensive.

It’s that time again, only this time you’re determining the motives of the cellar-dwelling Netists, as communicated by the well-dressed denizens of the Grand Ballroom. Why are the Netists so obsessed with nets?

A) They think nets are a time-tested and cost-effective way of dealing with stray dogs.

B) They hate anyone who isn’t exactly like them.

C) They want to return the city to the Old Age of Dog Ownership, where dogs’ well-being was solely the concern of their owners. What does this mean? Well, the government would be powerless to stop the rampant and inevitable dog abuse required by strict capitalism. The Dog Catcher would be merely a puppet, catching dogs with nasty nets and then funneling his prey to rich corporate interests. From there, the dogs would either end up in the “care” of some rich unworthy family (since they’re the only ones that could afford them), or find their way to the processing plant, where they would eventually become hamburgers, glue, artificial sweetener, or any of thousands of other products2.

1Before you answer, I feel compelled to point out in the spirit of fairness that this very plan was laid out in a book by a certain radical Ivy-League Professor of Dogology, one who has been seen speaking with the newly elected DC at least three times in the past 20 years.

2Before you answer, I feel compelled to point out in the spirit of fairness that this very thing happened in a slightly smaller city in the same state. Not only that, but the incumbent Dog Catcher whom the new WDS defeated was once a business partner of one of the executives of Dogron, the corporate interest at the center of the smaller city’s scandal. The unpleasant image of processed dogs, as well as his personal connection to the company involved, probably cost the incumbent the election.

Posted in Apologies, Stories, This Insane World | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Look At Me As I Sit In a Coffee Shop And Update A Blog

Delurking to say:  The problem is, I haven’t posted in so long that I have like 1000 things to say.  Kids, don’t blog.  It’s just a thankless hassle.

I’m just kidding.  But here’s a bulleted list.  I wish I could make this a mulleted list by giving the dots little mullets, but I just can’t.

  • Since we last talked, I shaved all the hairs (more than you might think) from my head.  I’m going with the shaved head look for a while, so you better get used to it.  Thankfully, it doesn’t really affect you, my blog readers.
  • The World Cup is here.  I think I wrote the definitive piece on the World Cup and American’s reaction to it four years ago.  Here’s a link to it.  Yesterday, France played to a tie with Ecuador.  I’m a big believer in the Monroe Doctrine as it pertains to soccer, and so I’m very happy that big bad France got tied by the swarthy Ecuadorians.  That’s a good first day.  Also, I always root for the African teams, except of course for South Africa.  We will not forget, South Africa.  We will not forget.
  • ESPN has come out with something called “ESPN3.”  We’re moving ever closer to “The Ocho” becoming a reality.
  • Man, Milwaukee is Brewer-crazy.  I had forgotten what it’s like to live in a real sports town.  And the Brewers aren’t even good!  I don’t care about the team at all*, and yet I know all about their players and their hopes and dreams and contracts and failures and Steakhouses.  For example, did you know the Brewers have a guy named Corey Hart who’s a total hillbilly?  Also, he’s stick-thin and has an absurd Amish beard.  Also, he totally sucked last year but is currently leading the NL in home runs.  These are some of the things I know, for no dang good reason.
  • I’ve developed a lot of theories about God and Life and The Universe and Everything, but I’m not quite willing to share them.  Perhaps if someone were to get me drunk, that would unloose my tongue.  These theories have helped me a lot, actually, in my day-to-day life.  I still hate talking to people, but I’m not as burdened about it now.  And it’s not like my theories are some sort of secret, a la The Secret — they’re right there in the Bible, and other places.  Perhaps I’ll just start a cult and have done with it.  Can you have a cult with no followers?  Isn’t a cult with no followers just a crazy person?
  • With regard to camping/hiking, I have purchased:  1) A cool tent, 2) a Wal-Mart brand (technically “Ozark Trail) camping pad, 3) a tarp, 4) a point-and-shoot camera, 5)  a sleeping bag.  Now, if I could only purchase something that stops it from raining.  Any evil geniuses out there with a weather machine I could borrow?
  • I like coffee shops.
  • The USA plays the England in soccer today in what some people are calling “The Dixie Chicks Revenge Game.”  C’mon USA, think about how much Natalie Maines will hate it if you win!
  • What the heck — Nebraska in the Big Ten?  Colorado going to the Pac-10, which might soon be the “Pac-16?”  The Big 12 becoming the “Big Five?”  Nobody wants Rock Chalk Jayhawk anymore?  Things like this are why the NCAA needs a commissioner who manages which teams are in which conference.  They need me to be that commissioner, actually.  I’ll set them straight.  My first edict?  Notre Dame is disbanded for being snooty.
  • I’m not delivering pizzas right now, which is weird.  My real job has become a real job, and that means real busy.  You would not believe how busy I am all the time.  That’s ok though, I like it.  It gives me something to do during the day.
  • Oh, and LOST ended.  I don’t have time to deal with my feelings on that right now, I got too much to do.

That’s all I got.  Sorry.

*obvs, that’s not completely true.  But it’s baseball, and baseball doesn’t care about me, so why should I care about it?  I’ve been less and less passionate about sports lately, because it all seems so silly.  Also, the Yankees, the Lakers, and the Blue Devils keep winning championships, we might have to disband the whole sport world and start over.  Thank God for the Saints, right?  Literally.

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My Name Is Michael And I’m An Introvert

You can tell she's introverted because she's looking down.

Maybe it was all those Meyers-Briggs personality evaluations that said the exact same thing.  Maybe it was my overwhelming sadness when I’m around lots of people.  Maybe it was my new favorite blog, Introverted Church.  Whatever it was, I have come to realize a very important fact:  There is a word for what I am, and it’s not a disorder.  It’s just introversion.  Lots of people are this way.  Who knew?

Seriously, our culture seems to place a much higher value on extroversion right now.  If there is a problem people have in their life, the answer we’re given is almost always something extroverted.  Don’t like your job?  Go out and find a new one — it’s up to you!  That job not making enough money for you?  Get a second one!  Need more attention?  Sell yourself!  Don’t like your marriage?  Communicate more!  Life is boring?  Find something you’re passionate about and do it!  Follow your heart and don’t care about what other people say!  Need something?  Don’t take no for an answer!  In a funk?  Do something and think about it later!  Live a better story, for Pete’s sake!

See what I mean?  I’m oversimplifying here, as always, but that’s totally what we hear every day, right?  Is there any other way to make it in this world besides constantly “putting yourself out there”?  Is it even a worthwhile question?  Isn’t introversion just another word for not taking responsibility for things?

No.  I wrote a while back, I think as a Facebook status message, that I’m learning the valuable lesson that not everything in life is my responsibility.  In fact, as I go through life, I’m quite surprised at what my actual responsibilities are, in comparison to what I’ve been led to believe.  It doesn’t help that people are fighting to hold me responsible for things every day — at my job, in my interactions with people, and in ads for some worthwhile cause.  It’s easy to make a case that something is important, and nearly impossible (not to mention socially suicidal) to prove that case wrong.  Take, for example, the current BP oil disaster in the Gulf of Mexico.  If we didn’t drive cars, none of this would have happened.  It’s our responsibility, therefore, to clean it up.  Just because we drove cars.  I cant think of a way to defeat this argument without taking some sort of political stand against government involvement in private business, something that seems beside the point right now.  So…

Wait.  I’m not really responsible for that, and me contemplating doing something about it is wasted thought.  You know what isn’t wasted thought?  Thinking about the implications of drilling in the ocean, and whether or not the risks are worth it.  Is it time to all get electric cars?  How about mopeds?  Introverts can solve these problems if allowed enough time to themselves, but we’re making them Do Something rather than Do What They Do Best.

I’m just discovering what it means to be introverted, and others have waxed far more eloquently on the subject.  But I would remind you that it’s not a disorder or even a way of looking at the world — it’s a personality type.    Let me chill out in my own way, ok?  Jesus went away by himself all the time.  Look it up.

I’ve also figured out an important truth from the Bible that really does sound insane, but is nonetheless true.  But that’s for another post.  How’s that for a tease?

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No Pegasus

I wrote this.  Not sure what it is, but it’s short:

Creatures of unbridled energy, like horses nobody could tame, they ran wild and free and without stopping, even for a second, because they thought that there was a race, but there wasn’t, and all those who followed them they viewed as competitors, and they were all alone, and as leader and follower passed and repassed each other and traded places repeatedly all either could think of was the upcoming cliff and how they might want to slow down, but since they had no mechanism to express that to each other, the race went on and ended as one might predict, and they fell covered in sweat and mud to whatever was below, and that’s a chance they took and wish they had back, but still, they were all alone but ultimately ok, despite passing by all possible points for an unwinnable race, but don’t tell them that, because they think they won. No, seriously. Don’t bother.

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