(THE 183RD OLYMPIAD OF) NOTES FROM A FRIDAY AFTERNOON
carrying the torch of my mind.
For your consideration: another curious collection
of thoughts, reactions, and observations that didn't make it into a full-length
post this week. So they're sort of like all the Olympians who've gone to
Beijing without any real shot at winning a medal. But without those cool hats
and jumpsuits...
• When the week's most engaging political message comes from Paris Hilton, it might be time for both parties to reconsider their choices. Or at least send both guys away for a week's vacation to rest and recharge their batteries and stop making people like air-headed heiresses look like charming, viable options for our attention.
• While they're away, maybe Cindy and Michelle could take over. I'll be it would be more interesting than what we've seen the last week or so.
• Well, with the exception of this, of course.
• I've said it before (and before, and before, and before, and before). And something tells me I'll say it again (and again, and again, and again, and again). Because it just keeps proving itself to be true: New kind of politics, my ass.
• Let me be perfectly clear here: In no way do I condone or excuse or forgive or even want to attempt to defend the content of stories that depict the graphic murder and torture and mutilation of children. I highly doubt they had any artistic or literary merit whatsoever. And I sure as hell do not condone or excuse or forgive or even want to attempt to defend the people who paid $10 a month to read them. But you'll forgive me nevertheless if I am chilled, and made more than a little uneasy, at the thought of someone being federally prosecuted for writing fiction.
• I am even more chilled, and made even more uneasy, by the admonition delivered to the defendant by U.S. District Judge Joy Flowers Conti: If anyone would have read the story and acted upon it, a little child could have suffered devastation that you would have had to live with for the rest of your life. Because you could say the same thing to the authors of every book in the history of the world that depicts so much as a single act of violence. Should we prosecute those writers too? You know, on the off-chance that some lunatic might read what they wrote and decide to act upon it?
• Okay? Good. Then let's start with The Bible. There's a lot of nasty, violent shit going down in that book -- rape, murder, infanticide, stoning, cutting off thumbs and toes, forcible adult circumcision, death by tent stake and ox goad -- and we don't want any of that being perpetrated on little children, do we? In fact, the sooner we ban that sucker, the sooner I can stop worrying about Adam and Ethan being nailed to a cross on their way home from school.
• Oh, hey -- I think I'm suddenly even happier to be living in Squirrel Hill. (Has anyone ever been nailed to a Star of David?)
• Chalk up another earth-shattering exclusive for the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette this week: a front-page story on Wednesday informed us that some new mothers suffer from post-partum depression. Yet again, I think I smell a Pulitzer.
• I don't know what's more offensive: that the PG's editors continue to lower their standards in reckless, feckless pursuit of the oft-prized Mommy demographic, that their relentless pandering so often wastes the considerable talents of a writer like Mackenzie Carpenter, or that they've now bent their once-proud backs to a new and alarming level of sub-mediocrity by absorbing and promoting this unfortunate site.
• If you think I'm being too harsh, or that I'm just not appreciating the vital support and social networking opportunities such a site can provide, consider the first paragraph of its most recent blog entry, penned by the site's General Manager: Matthew is totally into the "kiss my boo boo and make it better" phase. I must kiss every boo boo. And I must kiss it exactly on the right spot or he makes me redo until I get it right. Just right. I am not excused until he approves.
• Too bad the site's editors and overseers don't share Matthew's high standards.
• These subjects, and especially that PG article, remind me that one of the most consistent sources of Google-driven traffic here at TWM is a search for the term post-mortem depression. The top result leads them here, which is surely not what they're looking for. Perhaps the people Googling are just too depressed to spell post-partum properly. Perhaps I should include a link to the PG piece at the bottom of my post.
• The Olympic Opening Ceremonies cost $300 million to produce. And no one seems the least bit bothered by that. Presumably because there is no one dying or starving or suffering anywhere in the world who might have been helped by a little of that money.
• Today, at least, the slogan of the games should be amended to One World, One Dream, One Colossal Waste of Cash.
• If this makes me a bad American, so be it. But I just can't root for Michael Phelps with that awful moustache.
• Enjoyable Read of the Week (and Maybe the Month): Scott Spencer's Rolling Stone piece on the criminally underrated, at times almost forgotten, Mark Knopfler. The guy's a master songwriter, a monster of a guitar player, and, as Spencer's profile makes plain, a hell of a good bloke.
• Should I be ashamed, or at least a little embarrassed, to say I'm kind of looking forward to an NFL pre-season game? The play calling will be bland, the starters won't play more than series or two, and the fourth quarter -- which, let's face it, I won't be sticking around to watch -- will be most likely be abysmal on both sides of the ball. But seeing your hometown favorite team play your adopted hometown second-favorite team is just about the best way I can think of to get yourself in the mood for a new season or to football. Or to make yourself forget that exhibition games, when they're not being played between the Eagles and the Steelers, almost always suck.
• Oh, and finally -- I think I might have heard something about Brett Favre maybe being traded to a new team this week. Can anyone confirm that?
• When the week's most engaging political message comes from Paris Hilton, it might be time for both parties to reconsider their choices. Or at least send both guys away for a week's vacation to rest and recharge their batteries and stop making people like air-headed heiresses look like charming, viable options for our attention.
• While they're away, maybe Cindy and Michelle could take over. I'll be it would be more interesting than what we've seen the last week or so.
• Well, with the exception of this, of course.
• I've said it before (and before, and before, and before, and before). And something tells me I'll say it again (and again, and again, and again, and again). Because it just keeps proving itself to be true: New kind of politics, my ass.
• Let me be perfectly clear here: In no way do I condone or excuse or forgive or even want to attempt to defend the content of stories that depict the graphic murder and torture and mutilation of children. I highly doubt they had any artistic or literary merit whatsoever. And I sure as hell do not condone or excuse or forgive or even want to attempt to defend the people who paid $10 a month to read them. But you'll forgive me nevertheless if I am chilled, and made more than a little uneasy, at the thought of someone being federally prosecuted for writing fiction.
• I am even more chilled, and made even more uneasy, by the admonition delivered to the defendant by U.S. District Judge Joy Flowers Conti: If anyone would have read the story and acted upon it, a little child could have suffered devastation that you would have had to live with for the rest of your life. Because you could say the same thing to the authors of every book in the history of the world that depicts so much as a single act of violence. Should we prosecute those writers too? You know, on the off-chance that some lunatic might read what they wrote and decide to act upon it?
• Okay? Good. Then let's start with The Bible. There's a lot of nasty, violent shit going down in that book -- rape, murder, infanticide, stoning, cutting off thumbs and toes, forcible adult circumcision, death by tent stake and ox goad -- and we don't want any of that being perpetrated on little children, do we? In fact, the sooner we ban that sucker, the sooner I can stop worrying about Adam and Ethan being nailed to a cross on their way home from school.
• Oh, hey -- I think I'm suddenly even happier to be living in Squirrel Hill. (Has anyone ever been nailed to a Star of David?)
• Chalk up another earth-shattering exclusive for the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette this week: a front-page story on Wednesday informed us that some new mothers suffer from post-partum depression. Yet again, I think I smell a Pulitzer.
• I don't know what's more offensive: that the PG's editors continue to lower their standards in reckless, feckless pursuit of the oft-prized Mommy demographic, that their relentless pandering so often wastes the considerable talents of a writer like Mackenzie Carpenter, or that they've now bent their once-proud backs to a new and alarming level of sub-mediocrity by absorbing and promoting this unfortunate site.
• If you think I'm being too harsh, or that I'm just not appreciating the vital support and social networking opportunities such a site can provide, consider the first paragraph of its most recent blog entry, penned by the site's General Manager: Matthew is totally into the "kiss my boo boo and make it better" phase. I must kiss every boo boo. And I must kiss it exactly on the right spot or he makes me redo until I get it right. Just right. I am not excused until he approves.
• Too bad the site's editors and overseers don't share Matthew's high standards.
• These subjects, and especially that PG article, remind me that one of the most consistent sources of Google-driven traffic here at TWM is a search for the term post-mortem depression. The top result leads them here, which is surely not what they're looking for. Perhaps the people Googling are just too depressed to spell post-partum properly. Perhaps I should include a link to the PG piece at the bottom of my post.
• The Olympic Opening Ceremonies cost $300 million to produce. And no one seems the least bit bothered by that. Presumably because there is no one dying or starving or suffering anywhere in the world who might have been helped by a little of that money.
• Today, at least, the slogan of the games should be amended to One World, One Dream, One Colossal Waste of Cash.
• If this makes me a bad American, so be it. But I just can't root for Michael Phelps with that awful moustache.
• Enjoyable Read of the Week (and Maybe the Month): Scott Spencer's Rolling Stone piece on the criminally underrated, at times almost forgotten, Mark Knopfler. The guy's a master songwriter, a monster of a guitar player, and, as Spencer's profile makes plain, a hell of a good bloke.
• Should I be ashamed, or at least a little embarrassed, to say I'm kind of looking forward to an NFL pre-season game? The play calling will be bland, the starters won't play more than series or two, and the fourth quarter -- which, let's face it, I won't be sticking around to watch -- will be most likely be abysmal on both sides of the ball. But seeing your hometown favorite team play your adopted hometown second-favorite team is just about the best way I can think of to get yourself in the mood for a new season or to football. Or to make yourself forget that exhibition games, when they're not being played between the Eagles and the Steelers, almost always suck.
• Oh, and finally -- I think I might have heard something about Brett Favre maybe being traded to a new team this week. Can anyone confirm that?
Posted: Fri - August 8, 2008 at 12:17 PM
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Published On: Jan 16, 2009 04:50 PM
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Published On: Jan 16, 2009 04:50 PM