It’s been a season of win-lose here in Gritropolis. This, so pointedly captured by this weekend—on the court, on stage & sigh, at the movies.
Having a Pyrrhic victory may be fine for some. Not for me. Sure, that fat head no talent Tyler Perry, finally let a woman wear the dress. But his dreck came in number one at the box office. The one solace I have is that all people buying tickets for that movie have been tagged by Homeland Security, as no threat whatsoever to US intelligence.
While Serena Williams blew up at the US Open ( tennis ) for what she felt was an umpire’s wrong call on a foot fault*, Kanye West retained his title as Biggest Loudmouth in Music. Homeboy still believe he can hit that Beyonce groove thang, soon as the girl see he prettier than Jay Z. Or delusional that Taylor Swift has jungle fever & digs stupid guys. Either way, he on crack. One thing I know for certain—Taylor Swift’s videos are better than Tyler Perry’s. Watching hers only get you tagged by the local Fish & Game Commission. And that’s so they can call you for a donation.
If Serena can be fined an amount the equivalent of her tennis shoe allowance for a Grand Slam tournament (just kidding-I know she gets them gratis), why can’t that ahole Kanye get fined by the FCC. Why? for being an ahole in prime time. I bet Mr. Obama’s backhanded smack of Kanye got more play than anything he might’ve said publicly about Joe Wilson (R-Rep. South Carolina). He probably just got an atta boy from Rush Limbaugh—ha ha ha ad infinitum. Times like these I wish James Brown was still alive to advise some entertainers. Not the sports James Brown. Or the other sports James Brown. Or one of the Steve Smiths. The late great King of Soul. Of course!
There’s more, but I like to stick to the headlines. I do feel compelled to inject a future story—Prince Fielder, the really talented & large (+ packing a few more lbs. than needed ) first baseman of your Milwaukee Brewers, is likely to be trade bait over the Winter. Team very interested resides in Boston. Since they are allowed to make any move & be praised for it by buttboys at ESPN, I can’t fight the power. It is true, they have gone too long without a big fat guy to play first for them, since Mo Vaughn left. And Pig Papi Ortiz admitted his ” protein drinks ” only enable him to do one thing well—hit v. the Yankees.
Speaking of baseball, who won the World Series? The season must have ended while I was on my retreat in Nepal, searching for the home of Deechen Lachman.** I had no joy finding it, though I did run into the Dalai Lama.† When I asked him if he knew her, he said vexedly—” she’s Australian, you moron.” If I’d have known the MLB season wound up early so ESPN could go football 24/7, I’d have asked the Dalai Lama about the WS. Hey! he was all ready pissed off, I had nothing to lose there.
All I can get from ESPN is football f*gs, enabling gamblers with point spreads & injury reports & sucking up to coach. They are stat diligent to the point of being anal. I’m amazed they don’t do the Pop Warner games. Must be a licensing fee conflict. Or maybe the authorities draw an age line for boys locker rooms those bozo can invade. Why don’t I just Google? have I mentioned the page-load times for me & this old dial up here on the Copper Line yet this post? Oh look! there’s some mail from the Dept. of Homeland Security. . ..
* it was a bad call
** actor Dollhouse Fox-TV series
† I know I know—the DL is in exile in India
Alex Rodriguez aka A Rod aka A-Fraud aka A Roid * tested positive for anabolic steroids in 2003, according to a story in Sports Illustrated. He was a then member of the MLB franchise Texas Rangers ( now a New York Yankee ). Yankee haters have all ready jumped on the NY organization, as if they needed another excuse. This because Roger Clemens, Jason Giambi & Andy Pettitte, past & present NYY, are also tainted by purported juice use. Barry Bonds, who may actually walk on his charges, missed being a Yankee because he didn’t like the way they treated his father Bobby, who by all accounts swung to his own beat.
All these issues go much deeper than athletes doing drugs to enhance their performance. When the US passed the Volstead Act in 1919 and the Prohibition Era ruled American life, it was with the best of intentions. The negative effects of alcoholic beverage consumption on the family and society was the virtuous ( ? ) impetus. And it failed early and often, creating lots of crime, drunkenness & the Kennedys of Boston, Mass. After 13+ years & a lot of flapper pregnancies, it was repealed and Americans went back to getting a good old legal buzz. I don’t drink alcoholic beverages because I don’t like the taste of alcohol though I have been known to make a few women under the influence, sober magically, once they get a load of my act.
Anabolic steroids are illegal without a doctor’s prescription. This is due to long term effects, one of which is premature death. Even after steroids were against the law, sports entities lagged behind in the rule making department. So, part of many players defense is—it wasn’t against the rules. Then. For the record, the list of players who failed the drug test, was supposed to be sealed information. It’s not the first time the steroid issue provoked an illegal leak; an act much more sinister than a jock abusing a PED. Meanwhile, for many reasons ( mo$tly obviou$ )the National Football League rolls on, laughing up its sleeve while organized baseball weathers the firestorm.
OK enough history. It’s covered better, with more detail and annotation, elsewhere, ad nauseum. I just wanted to show I knew something about the subject, other than, it’s nothing new. Humans always want an edge. Literally, for example, as in the Stone Age case of Ogg v. Grrrn. Ogg objected to the fact Grrrn had honed the edge of his stone knife. Mr. Ogg was fighting fairly, using a blunt stone. The case was never adjudicated, as Mr. Grrrn stabbed everyone in the cave and ran. All survivors agreed Grrrn made his point—he didn’t need an edge. He was just competitive & possibly the first known sociopath.
Alex Rodriguez catches heat for everything. Choking in the clutch, dating strippers, being a numbers hanger & being seen with Madonna. All the former are moot, the Madonna thing might just prove he needs glasses and could explain the need for performance enhancement. . .. Regardless, he’s an easy target, a Golden Idol, who is turning out to be a gilded lily and getting more tarnished with each passing pigeon carrying bad news.
The Jockocracy hopped on a bandwagon ( they love to—for most of them, it’s their only form of exercise ) a few years ago. This one was called Athletes Are Rôle Models. Then some rebels ( ha ha ha ) got on the Athletes Are NOT Rôle Models float. Well, they are and they aren’t, so they got that part right. Uh, some did–never mind. Any way most of them had been hoping Mr. Rodriguez would erase Barry Bonds’ current but tainted homerun total, because in the sports world, A Rod passed for a good guy. Oops.
What I mean is, sports figures are certainly looked up to by young athletes. Guitar godz are looked to by kids with their first six-string. Rappers, by other no talents dreaming of bling & bad fashion statements. But are they models for morality & integrity? Nope. In fact, hardly anyone is. Certainly there are always exceptions. Mainly because they haven’t had their privacy invaded by a voracious media. Or been caught with their pants off in Thailand. Yet.
The true disconcerting thing is the so called Court of Public Opinion. Essentially this means guilty until proved innocent (it used to be the other way around in the US) and likely even after you’re proclaimed innocent, because idiots who go by the CoPO, are too ignorant to form a new opinion. You know what they say about opinions—every one who has one is one (that’s a W quote btw).
I wish athletes never cheated. Or spouses. Or me, and I really didn’t cheat, I just happened to see a copy of a Math test once in 7th grade. Didn’t help my career—QED. I can’t condone it and I do think our culture is going downhill faster than Spanky & Alfalfa in that barrel episode of Little Rascals. That said, it might be the time to reveal Santa isn’t real. The Easter Bunny is not a hot chick who visits good boys on Easter. Though the Tooth Fairy is a fairy ( and that makes his dad sad ).
Still, somebody needs to answer why Bud Selig, Commissioner Of Baseball, makes almost 20 million per annum. Federal fatheads won’t, he’s one of them. For now. As for A Rod? I think Madonna is punishment enough.
©2009 Jukeofurl Prod
” We love our god and our guns. . ..” this a direct quote from a political ad, approved by John McCain, running on a local radio station here in the New River Valley of Virginia. A political statement meant to exhort Virginians to vote against Barack Obama, because he apparently doesn’t love their god or their guns. Love means cleaning, oiling & fondling your grandaddy’s 30 aught 6.
They love guns here all right. They love to sell them too. That’s how a mental patient, who slipped through a loophole in the VA TECH student psych screening process, bought two guns here in Virginia. Then took them to school for Show & Kill. Who is their god? Glock? or the twin deities, Smith & Wesson?
Not too far from here, about 10 miles as the Jim Crow flies, there still stands the site of slave cabins. No doubt my own house is built above the unmarked graves of somebody who caught a free cruise to the land of the free. This area rarely has a sunny start to a day.* Often, it’s more a mist, I call it gray-light. Maybe it’s the angry gun god, all smoke and bitter ash for dirty deeds. Or possibly the arsenal also, just down the road apiece. . ..
I have said previously, the President of the United States is a spokes model. He/she(?) walks point for the daily patrol-an important job, yes. But the chief exec leads the team out front. There are those no longer so deep in the shadows, who run things. Those guys have no gods. This, because they think they are them. What they do best is send out people to do things for them, destabilize a Third World country or prop up a druglord in a slag heap ending with -stan. Then they trot the Pres out to meet the press for an atta boy and a tutorial in spin doctoring.
Doing that needs lots of guns and money. No doubt Mr. Obama would prefer to use what’s left of the American economy to keep us strong at home. Roofs over our heads and a chicken in every pot and/or microwave. But that kind of thing upsets the ‘ foreign policy ‘ of the power brokers who work behind the curtains of the Oval Office.
Hollywood has remade a classic flick, The Day the Earth Stood Still. The premise of which is, extraterrestrial is sent to Earth to terminate it. Mainly due to our warlike ways. Naturally this is greeted with loads of firepower, which makes the alien think it’s actually on Mars, named after the god of war. Right after the shameful name of the NFL franchise in our nation’s capitol is changed, I’m petitioning the new administration to switch from Earth to Mars. Or at least the Dirty 3rth. Hey, yo I’m street, dogg!
When a political party’s endgame endorsement has god & guns as the slam dunk argument for its candidate, you know it’s in trouble. If McCain really heard that ad and approved it, it’s troublesome. If a lackey rubber stamped it for him, it’s even more so. I knew we were backwards here, but this is straight out of the Johnny Reb Handbook. The South will rise again? well not before my dinner does.
So, while I continue to live in Bubbadoon,* where it’s always 1808 with football & cell phones—their god approves of some new fangled things! I get out my pork rinds & moonshine, ready to watch the election returns. Who will win—Hatfield or McCoy? er, um I mean Obama or McCain. Actually, I thought Obama was an Irish name- what? you never heard of the Black Irish!
* not to mention 24ºF on October 31—sunny south my @#%&*! ass
I’ve finally figured it out. Lucky you, now you won’t have to do it, you get it here, virtually free of charge.
The godz, the hired powers or the big gas cloud, rules existence in its own cruel to be kind way. Mostly it makes stuff to break stuff then makes more stuff to break it, ad infinitum. Which seems to place the age of this particular universe in the Terrible Two’s; not even the dumbest Christian thinks life is that young! All of that is usually depressing and/or befuddling for any survivors, until it’s their inevitable, tough shit turn in the barrel.
Oh sure, there are some neat misdirection tricks, geeks get hot chicks & underdogs win World Series. Favorite sons get erected U.S. President ( not a typo.) That kind of thing. We all tune in for the show, because it’s so random, there really is a chance we might be a winner. Odds roughly being googolplex to one. Sadly, there be dragons. The ever present dark side they never teach you in school. Unless of course you’re a cognitive genius and have an epiphany waiting in the cafeteria lunch line ( c’est moi naturelement.) Yes, we are the Mystery Meat. Which was the original title of that We Are the World song. It was changed for our protection.
OK, the answer is coming, eventually. Be patient, remember, it’s free. Lately I have noticed more and more, how what passes for creative, is just crap. At least 25% of the males starring in mainstream media look like the bastard sons of the Pillsbury Doughboy. AND fully 60% of dudes in rock bands, the spawn of the Michelin Man. Back when I was a boy (creak)those whey-faced lardos, were nerds and football players. Oh and please, somebody slap a cease and desist order on those endless SF/Fantasy book series. My time travel hitlist will now have to include Tolkien for baby daddy-ing that phenomenon. I’m all for EOE but it’s gone too far. So far in fact, its let the fat cat out of the bag.
Before I say any thing else, let’s all agree on something. There are always exceptions. For every Seth Rogen there always will be a Zac Efron ( is it me or did somebody at Disney edit out a K, P & H?). For every Sarah Palin there will be a Michael Palin. For every Oprah there will a photo of Oprah( they should change the spelling of ego to egO and yeah, put a pic of her as the definition.) Nothing will change that. Well, nothing short of a Cosmic singularity occluding us, harshing our dubious high.
The first sign of the Apocalypse as far as I’m concerned, is the exponential proliferation not of nukes in OPEC nations and/or dictators rocking wardrobes from Army Surplus stores, but that of one named recording acts. If you’ve stumbled across this blahg before, I mention those pretentious aholes every chance I get. If people known by three names are serial killers and people with the standard two are us, what does that make the uni-noms? Please reread this paragraph slowly and focus. Voila, you too can be a visionary. If only I had some product tie ins to sell you.
So what if Wall Street is headed for Wall-E, wearing their throwback jerseys from the October 1929 season. No fear. The stock market was established back when it actually was a stock market, cows & pigs—bulls & bears are metaphors. It’s all based on speculations and futures. We all have just one future. Fuck Dow Jones and the SUV he rode in on. The only sure thing in life is debt and Texas. Then you eat out of a dumpster until you actually do die, do die.**
That said ( whatever that was–I am trying to be entertaining and enigmatic ), I have had a revelation. The reason things start to seem so awful in the arts as we age is for one reason only. It’s so, that with our last thought, we don’t gasp a final hacking deathbed breath of regret, in which we utter the immortal words:
” Now I’ll never get to see HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL 86 arrrrrrggggghhhhhhhhh. . ..”
Anybody know what we’re having for lunch? hey dude, no cutting in line!
* the word unpverse ©2008 JukeofUrl Productions
** cryptic Johnny Cash song reference – 20 points
Presidential TV debates are not really debates. They are more like those Apple v. Windows commercials. Only without the dude from the late great ED show. It’s speechifying, packaged oratorial ping pong, with enough spin to make Sandy Koufax green with envy.
So, imagine my opinion of Vice Presidential debates. They are showcases for the stand-ins. The shadow pols. Them who would be veep. They are bullshit. Certainly not cool enough to preempt 30 ROCK. Even if Sarah Palin & Tina Fey are total sisters in MILFness.
OK here’s what I want them to talk about. Joe Biden can explain his plagiarized speech from whenever that was, a decade ago. AND Palin can tell us all about why teen pregnancy in Alaska is God’s will. Riveting. In much the same way, actual riveting would be, with admittedly not the same decibels, but likely more grating.
The one thing I am excited about is, there is finally an American candidate for an executive office who won’t be togged out in a stupid suit & tie. Or will she? I don’t know. Wouldn’t put it past some ahole to tell her she’d look more Presidential. Wanna bet somebody floated the idea?
I nominally worked for a few campaigns in my misguided youth. NO happy endings there. Unless you count The Oval Office escapade with the blue dress. The one thing I took from my Presidential campaign trail experiences was I learned how to use a coffeemaker. A skill, I continue to employ, so it was worth something after all!
I can’t personally run for office. Well, I can run. But my dodgy ( lol ) past would be exposed immediately and that would be that for the once & future king. I might have a shot at Pope. If a former Hitlerjugend can make it, the field is wide open. Odd how they send up smoke to announce a new Pope. Hmmmm wonder if he had a flashback.
Anyone with the urge to get elected is suspect from my POV. It’s rife with deals within deals. Maybe I could get longer than a week on the stump, considering how they seem to miss vital details. Intriguing how the home team often misses them, leaving the loyal opposition to amazingly find out Mayoral hopeful John Doughboy, was once in a cult that dressed as nuns and ate human flesh. It was only that one time at Cannibal Camp, but once in this case. . ..
Anyone compos mentis over the age of seven, who thinks the President is more than a spokesmodel, needs to read a book. Doesn’t matter which book, just try one. Then take a look between the lines. See it? no? go on, keep looking. You will.
In related news. . . Yankee Stadium will be razed soon and next season there will be a new ballpark in the South Bronx, my old hometown. My biggest memory of the place is going there for the first time and as we walked across River Avenue, my dad said- ‘see that big building over there? that’s the Bronx Borough Court House. I got in trouble as a kid and had to go there once. Don’t let that happen to you.’
I’m pleased to say, I’ve yet to set foot in there. Though, you never know. Meanwhile, I can’t wait to see who will be President, Apple or Windows. Either way, I’ll still have this @#%&*! dial up and phone lines installed by the CSA. Now there was a president, Jefferson Davis. I’d give anything to know what he’d say about the 2008 Election. I’d bump 30 Rock for that, and I ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie y’all!
Everybody is now after once immortal lock for baseball’s Hall of Fame, Roger Clemens. Latest arm of the Federal Government piling on ( a fitting term seeing as Mr. Clemens was/is a pitcher ) are the Boys of Hoover. He’s lucky it’s not the CIA. I saw a movie where Meryl Streep was in the CIA, she was one stone hearted mama. BTW Meryl is getting chunky, got to be from all those years of scenery chewing. . ..
Yes sir, the FBI will be investigating, while The CEO of the USA, is making dead grandma jokes about Latin lunkhead Manny Ramirez. Manny, being Manny, a state of being coined by somebody in Boston, likely not from Harvard, depicting moronic behavior as an expression of Ramirez’ individuality. I know he can’t, but can you say: E U P H E M I S M?
Seems Ramirez didn’t show up for the Boston victory lap around the Rose Garden. Again. He didn’t make it in 2K4 either.
I’m betting his excuse is he was off in his home country, the Bronx. Manny doesn’t know that’s in the US, a hundred miles or so to DC being too much of a hardship expense for a multi-millionaire. He does know he’s wealthy because he owns way too many vintage cars. Probably didn’t want to drive one of those babies on the Beltway. Elijah Dukes is with the Washington Nationals now, he’d key a quarter million dollar Bentley just because he saw his reflection in it.
Now looky here. No, here> If you break a law, especially one they made for your own good ( anabolic steroids & human growth hormones [HGH] bad! ), you shouldn’t be allowed to skate. I guess the cheating in sports angle really pisses a lot of people off too. Bettors get surly, makes things unpredictable, er, more unpredictable. I certainly didn’t care much for Roger Clemens when he was with another team, hmmmm what was that team? ah yes, those nurturing, benevolent Mother Theresa’s of Massachusetts, the Boston Red Sox, that’s who. They must have known someday he’d turn to drugs, so being high minded, they dumped him. Nothing to do with his four consecutive mediocre seasons. Nope. Which rhymes with ____?
I, for one, will sleep better and better, each time an athlete is punished to the full extent of the law for attempting to extend his career or get an edge. When Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens are taught a lesson, possibly water boarding, who knows, maybe all the political/religious extremists who hate US Americans, will rehabilitate themselves. Ray Stevens would like it, he could release a song parody of his old hit, the new one would be Rehab the Arab( pronounced w/a long A, like Mr. Bush would ). I wouldn’t want a PED Clemens fastball coming at my head in a dark alley! AND I damn sure don’t like the idea of Bonds breaking up my no hitter with a HGH homerun. Hell no!