Archive for December, 2010|Monthly archive page

kettle’s on

in case you got caught sleeping, or forgot:

next year is in twentythree hours and thirty minutes. everybody in the picture above is still kicking. so with that, I say god bless America. and see you on the other side.

me and Mar at Cracker Barrel

okay, so here’s how it shook out:

Minnesota beat Philadelphia on Tuesday night, surprising everybody and guaranteeing Chicago a bye in the first week of the playoffs. they’ll get the second seed, at the very least.
they’re still in the running for the first seed and home-field advantage: I believe Atlanta would have to lose, at home, to the goddamn Panthers, which is pretty unlikely. and the Bears would have to beat Green Bay in Wisconsin. the ATL/Carolina game will be decided before kickoff in Green Bay, so they’ll know beforehand what they’ll be playing for. so they could rest their starters.
they could rest their starters. the coaching staff has said they don’t plan to, that they’ll be going full-bore on Sunday afternoon, but teams often say one thing and do another; what’s said to the press in the run-up to the game should be taken heavily salted. a lot of it’s bullshit. so I’ll just say that I really, really hope they don’t sit the starters. I don’t care if the Falcons decapitate Jimmy Clausen on the goddamn 50-yard line and take the fumble back for six. I want the starters to play.
because fuck the Packers. fuck them. football for me isn’t a zero-sum game. it’s a pastime, and it needs to keep me interested. if the Bears lose in the first playoff game, I will be disappointed but will not collapse into a pile of tears. if they do, however, put in the scrubs so that the starters don’t risk injury, despite the fact that they have a chance to bounce their historic rivals out of a playoff berth, then yeah. then I’ll collapse into a pile of tears.

we all remember what Lovie Smith said when he got hired in 2003. win a championship, win the division. but first, beat the Packers. well, okay, that’s first. so beat the Packers. right?

pills

it is an exceptionally slow day at work. I am compensating by picking through an assignment while listening to the Temptations and Scandinavian doom metal, and reading about Pfizer.
it seems one of the cables WikiLeaks released details a meeting between that drug company and a US state department official, where the parties discussed the settlement of a Nigerian class-action lawsuit that claimed Pfizer used a bunch of sick children to field test a Meningitis drug.
you probably heard of this?
anyway, the cable suggests one of Pfizer’s “legal strategies” was to blackmail — or possibly bribe — a corrupt Nigerian justice department official into dropping the case, in exchange for what Pfizer would call peanuts. truly, WikiLeaks is the gift that keeps on giving.
I remember watching “The Constant Gardener” and spending more time wondering why Ralph Fiennes pronounces his name “Rayfe” than I spent considering the plot. maybe it will require a second look. or maybe I’ll get the book instead. but either way you cut it, it’s okay to color yourself shocked that a pharmaceutical company was more concerned with profits than with people. that shit is un-fucking-believable, and I need to go outside and look at the sky, to make sure that son of a biscuit is still blue.

not exactly “It’s a Wonderful Life”

oh yes, you know it: merry Christmas. it has been an interesting day.

DC didn’t get the worst of it, but it’s pretty nasty out anyway. a sleet-like snow. and I managed to spend the entire day walking around in it. but that worked out, because I managed to catch most of the Bears game in spite of this weather. I got great hustle.

everybody in my immediate circle is out of town, which is rare. so here I am in Petworth, dogsitting. the dog is crashed out. and I am watching “Ninja Assassin” on HBO. it’s really, incredibly goddamn violent, and easily the movie most so that I’ve seen since I watched “Punisher War Zone” with the Canadian, his wife and the sports desk guy.
look at this stuff. best scene begins at the 2:28 mark.

how’d you dig that? it’s almost a high art of stupidity.
but let’s get on down to brass tacks: Chicago beat the Jets this afternoon in a pretty good game, and the Packers stomped the Giants this evening. that’s a bummer, because fuck the Packers, those dirtbags. but, that means that Green Bay will have plenty of incentive to kick the shit out of us next Sunday in the finale. and that’ll mean a pretty good game, Boomer! these two teams have a lot to play for!
how’s that for football insight?
I may have mentioned this once, that my brother thinks professional football is a government propaganda effort that keeps males, ages 18-54, from spending their time wisely: organizing, or being productive in some other way on the weekends for six months out of the year. throwing off authority’s yoke. curing cancer. etcetera. yeah, maybe so, but pfft, who reads the news? that Chicago/Green Bay game next weekend is going to rule!

. this post brought to you by Lang’s poor taste.

important stuff

every once in a while, while strolling the avenues of this, uh, fair city, I’ll come across a used condom. this is not like finding a four-leaf clover, or $20. finding that kind of shit is awesome. this is fundamentally different.
the first thing you do when you find a spent rubber is leer at it. “what the fuck? is that … is that cum? holy shit.”
the second thing you’ll do is take account of your surroundings. this isn’t so you can announce that yes, it was you who found the ejaculate. it’s because you wanna take stock of your neighborhood, because apparently, this is the kind of spot where this sort of thing happens. maybe it was tossed from a car, maybe not. but there’s a possibility that someone did some fucking right there, right on the street. you’ll look up at the windows of the homes, look for vacant buildings and dark corners. wonder where it is exactly that it went down.
third thing you’ll do is make sure — if you have a dog with you — that the dog doesn’t try to pick it up. you gotta watch for that shit. dog’s will eat anything. you might want to make this the second thing you do, right after leering.
and fourth, the fourth thing you’ll do is have that fleeting second to yourself where you’ll think: well, it’s pretty gross that I just found a used condom. but hey, at least someone took a second before getting their dick out on the street and putting it in someone — hopefully willingly — and they wrapped it up. this is not how successful babies are usually born, from streetside coitus. I don’t have any numbers on that, but it’s just a feeling. and, what’s more, it’s certainly good to know that despite the irrepressible urge to bang on a Shaw corner, someone decided to keep their venereal diseases to themselves. that is a bonus. truly, a holiday miracle.

and here’s the Chicago Bulls singing “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” look for the sixth day!

the holidays are upon us

Season’s Greetings!

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I’m getty heavy for the holidays

the merry xmas letter is incoming. it’s goddamn imminent! but not yet.

I read an interesting poem today. I don’t know what it means, because I’m stupid. but maybe you might like it. it is:

“Sailing to Byzantium” by William Butler Yeats

That is no country for old men. The young
In one another’s arms, birds in the trees
– Those dying generations – at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.

O sages standing in God’s holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.

Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come

yes, there it is. and speaking of immortality, here’s some Chuck Berry.

Time named the guy who invented Facebook the “person of the year.” I think that just about sums up 2010 for you.

I got holiday cheer

I hope you been good this yearokay, so the family holiday letter is getting worked on. it’s another Christmas miracle for everyone! I really get a kick out of writing them, and they wouldn’t be as they are without my mom’s eternal patience. and with her permission, I think it usually comes out pretty well.
I’ll throw the new one up here after it’s finished and mom sends it out to the friends-and-family holiday-letter list, but if you’d like to see some old examples take a look here and here.

but anyways

it wasn’t a good weekend for my sports interests. IU was down one at the half in its annual game against Kentucky, and then managed to lose by something like twentyfive. and the Bears? well …
god damn, but do I like the Chicago Bears. I’ve liked the Bears since Griffith, Indiana and Bozo Hot Dogs. I’ve liked them since the Romanian Orthodox church in Merrillville, since the likes of Moses Moreno, Cade McNown and Henry Burris were behind center. and I liked them yesterday, when they got blown out by the goddamn Patriots on national television, and CBS pulled the broadcast for a more “competitive” game. that sucked.

and I still like them tonight, because of moments like Keith Traylor’s interception return in 2001.

I still like the Bears. so congratulations, McCaskeys. I’m tied to the team. I bought the brand. I will always like the Chicago Bears.

we come a long way

there is a kerfluffle over the Bush tax cuts deal that Obama made with the Republicans in congress. liberals, the very self-important political class tells me, are pissed that Obama dealt so easily with the opposition.
their position is backed up by House democrats, the lame-goddamn-duck democrats, who are are so super-pissed about the wealthy among us getting an extended tax cut that they’d let benefits for the long-term jobless expire. the outgoing democrats.
to them, and to the changing definition of what it means to be a progressive liberal, I point to, yes … another blogger:

I guess wounded, wailing laments over the president’s pathetic, weak-kneed capitulation wouldn’t grate so much had I heard a peep yesterday about the administration’s success in standing rock steady behind the president’s legal right to unilaterally order the killing of American citizens. One would think this holdover of George W. Bush’s reign would outrage liberals, but evidently one would be wrong. Perhaps liberals should take courage from the fact Mr Obama doesn’t cave on everything. Besides, what’s the power to raise taxes on the rich next to the power of discretionary assasination?