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Friday, June 13, 2003Roger Clemens held off St. Louis for his 300th career win. He also notched his 4,000th strikeout. <KennyMayneVoice> In his career, not in the game. That would be a record or something. </KennyMayneVoice> I like how he "jogged onto the field as Elton John's "Rocket Man" played over the public-address system. He raised both arms, tipped his cap to the fans in right field, then left, then touched his heart." Quoth Elton: I think it's gonna be a long, long, time 'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find I'm not the man they think I am at home Ah, no no no... By using this song in the celebration, I think Clemens is trying to speak on the duality of his off-field nice guy and dad personality with his on-field persona of Bad Ass Intimidator who Throws Heat in Mike Piazza's Grill. Either that or he's implying New York ain't the kind of place / To raise your kids / In fact, it's cold as hell By the way, Yankees suck. posted by Nate on 11:33 PM link The New York Observer's Lawrence Osborne writes on the recent run of Che Guevara films. He comments on our odd impulse to romanticize leftist revolutionaries like Che and Fidel, rather than see how they instituted horriffic totalitarian regimes. Mr. Hart's fantasy of Che Guevara, in other words, is a suave projection of the average, decent, middle-class white American liberal's political sensibility. Then again, how could he be anything else?... the sex appeal of dubious, semi-fraudulent characters like Che and Castro goes beyond images-- if not very far beyond. It's clear that Cuba, the society they manufactured together, is as oppressive and miserable as any on earth. But we seem not to care. Or, at least, our filmmakers seem not to care. They can latch onto a rhetoric of "social justice," ever vague and undefined. As I see it, Communism, especially Latin American Communism, was a cynical way for totalitarian leaders to gain power-- and deflect international criticism-- by claiming to be operating "for the good of the people." Rather than improve their people's lives, however, Communism ushered in (or preserved) corrupt, stratified societies where only the leaders benefited. This reminds me of a 1998 P.J. O'Rourke interview in which he opined that a country's success isn't dependent on capitalism vs. socialism, but on law vs. gangsterism, whether the political leaders are above the law. He compared Cuba with Sweden, two countries with similar "progressive" economic ideas. Cuba is a pit of corruption in which friends of the regime have million dollar mansions and the commoners starve, while Sweden is a fairly nice place to live, albeit with an enormous tax burden. One of the biggest lies out there is that Communism is a compassionate ideology that just went too far in its methods. It is a governmental system based on repression and inequality; it has nothing to do with the popularly elected European welfare state governments that the American Left sees as a model for this country. Unfortunately, the Left embraces Castro et. al out of a fear that discrediting Communism discredits Liberalism. In fact, this thug-embracing makes them seem far more crazy than they actually are. posted by Nate on 12:59 PM link Thursday, June 12, 2003Flipping through the wasteland of cable television, I just caught a few minutes of the movie Hackers. Yes, it's a bad attempt to dramatize 1980's computer culture. But yes, it does feature the bewitching feminine whiles of Angelina Jolie. She would be the sexiest woman alive, were she not an utterly deranged psycho. Despite her utter psycho-osity, her plump lovely lips still make me feel all funny inside. I watched a few minutes of Hackers, of course. There's a great scene where The Protagonist is doing some Crazy Hacker Shit on Angelina's laptop (not a euphemism). After accessing a UNIX system, he fumbles around on the keyboard for a moment. She says, "I hope you don't screw like you type." As a guy who uses UNIX and Linux, I have been insulted the same way. I can barely get forty words per minute. Less when I'm drunk. Sure I can type ls -aF like a motherfucker, but that's just muscle memory; life would be so much easier if I were a 120 wpm touch typist. But forget that; I'd have to spend hour upon hour with Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing and stuff. As it is, Angelina, my prowess in typing is not a good indicator of other sorts of expertise. And now that you've dumped that loser Billy Bob, give me a phone call. I have a really big "monitor." I'll touch finger mount fsck you. You will scream, "| more"!!! Then, sleep. posted by Nate on 10:12 PM link Wednesday, June 11, 2003The other day, Lileks opined about tasteless "edgy" billboards which implied that a local Mexican restaurant's food would give the customer diarrhea. And this was a good thing, an inducement to eat there. Three levels of spicy. Hot, Very Hot, and Excuse Me I Have to Go to the Bathroom. A strong selling point, that. The article jogged my memory, reminding me of something I saw on my recent junket to the Motor City (no, not the Autobot City, Metroplex: I mean Detroit). About every forty miles on I-94 are billboards for a new bottled water called "Outhouse Springs." A bottled water that is supposedly pee. Their logo is little wooden door with a half-moon cutout and everything. I am not making this up. The ads featured catchy slogans like, "Our bottled water isn't Number One... It's Number Two." Ahem. Personally, I don't find drinking urine and liquified poo much of a selling point. In fact, I consider it a disincentive. It's as if the advertising agency meeting took place at an out-of-the-way hotel room. With Marion Barry. The ad execs got really jacked up on cocaine and watched the South Park "Underpants Gnomes" episode for eight hours straight. "Hey, Peter, I was so wasted last night. Did you keep any notes from the meeting?" "Yup, right here. Step #1: Associate our beverage with human waste. Step #2: ??? Step #3: PROFIT!!!" This is roughly the equivalent of the Ghirardelli Chocolate Company marketing a new product called "Extra Fudgy Colonic Spasm (with chunks of real corn in every bite!)" Yum. Regardless of how tasty a shit-themed beverage may be, I don't think I will be buying one anytime soon. There's a bit of a stigma that follows being titled after excrement, for some odd reason. Perhaps Jules Winfield said it best, "Sewer rat might taste like pumpkin pie, but I'd never know 'cause I'd never eat the filthy motherfucker." Me neither. posted by Nate on 11:06 PM link Sammy Sosa, victim of a vast right wing conspiracy. Thankfully, a Wrigley Field bat girl and stained Cubby blue uniform were not involved. posted by Nate on 4:02 PM link Tuesday, June 10, 2003Is that Lord Stanley's Cup, or are you happy to see me?  You can't beat Game Seven of the Stanley Cup Finals; in sports, that's as good as it gets, eh? Jersey's defense was awesome, and Anaheim couldn't muster much "O" in the last two periods. And when they finally got chances, Martin Brodeur was an inpenetrable wall. Perhaps Mighty Ducks Coach Gordon Bombay should have used the "Flying V" formation, or the play where the female figure skater distracts the other team. At least Goldberg-- I mean Giguere-- won the Conn Smythe for them. I think it's a bit strange when the "lesser of two evils" team is nicknamed the Devils and partially owned by George Steinbrenner, but that's what happens when Disney gets involved with sports. Speaking of which, it's a tad odd that their teams got to the championship series, doubling or tripling their market value, right when Disney was getting ready to sell them. And the hockey playoffs were on ESPN and ABC, Disney-owned networks. I don't want to say it's a conspiracy, but I think I saw Donald Duck with the DeBeers family and the Knights Templar, hanging out with some gay aliens on a black helicopter. And Emilio Estevez? We already know that he's one of them. posted by Nate on 10:40 AM link Monday, June 09, 2003The Great One's creeping me out. The Wayne Gretzky bobblehead, that is. I bought the Olympic hockey gold medal commemorative when I was in Canada last week, and he's scary. Like in one of those movies where the grinning plastic doll comes to life and mutilates your family while you sleep, eh? Every time I pad by, the Great One knods his head subtly. "Watch your back, ya hoser. Chuckie was a pussy. One of these days I'll 'accidentally' slit your throat with a skate blade. Just like Clint Malarchuk." Today things are even worse, since we're having our roof redone. The entire house is shaking, and there's a waterfall of debris cascading by my window. The cat is going out of her mind from the ruckus, and I'm about ready to join her. But the Great One watches on stoically , taking it all in. And nodding sagely at the passage of time, like Buddha or Krishna or Jesus. Like a bobblehead Buddha or Krishna or Jesus. Like an evil, family-murdering bobblehead Buddha or Krishna or Jesus. With an Olympic hockey gold medal. posted by Nate on 10:42 AM link
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your stolen base are belong to Rickey Henderson. Questions or comments? Email nate@swankypimp.com |
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