This is the worst Bill Simmons column I've ever seen. Awful.
I am on an orientation panel today. Topic: Intentional Spiritual Formation. It's me, another (supremely great) student, and the dean of the school. This oughta be good.
A's / O's, coming up. We've got tickets for the Friday and Saturday games. The A's are coming off of a sweep of Pawtucket, so they're feeling good.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Thursday, August 24, 2006
The Little League World Series...
...is not very good baseball. The fact that ESPN is airing games played by middle school kids and upping the pressure of the situation is one thing. The fact that, thanks to a foul-mouthed player and the coach who slapped him, they have to do it on a 5-second delay is just silly. Not silly like showing dominoes, darts, poker, aerobics, cheerleading, or the X Games on a sports channel, but silly.
Thanks go to my brother for alerting me to the existence of www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com
That's all. Life starts getting more interesting next week.
Thanks go to my brother for alerting me to the existence of www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com
That's all. Life starts getting more interesting next week.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Daniel Cabrera pitched a complete-game shutout against Toronto; God be praised. If the O's are to avoid a 9th straight losing season next year, he will have to be a key player. The offense also scored 15 runs, which is always nice.
Ben Harper tonight at the Greek. I'm more excited about the venue (4 blocks from the apartment) than the performer, but it should be a good show.
I picked up the new-ish Coltrane set from the Half Note in 1965, and it's very, very good. The Half Note is now a convenience store. The idea of seing Trane's quartet (Elvin Bishop, McCoy Tyner, and Jimmy Garrison) in a venue the size of a convenience store, especially in '65, when you can hear him trying to reach a higher plane through his playing, is something I can't comprehend.
Since I'm an Orioles fan, I'm getting excited for UNC Basketball this year. In the new landscape of college basketball, we have a legitimate shot at greatness. That game against Florida Atlantic will be a lot less awkward now that Matt Doherty is at SMU. Seeing him coaching the opposing team in the Dean Dome would be a very conflicting situation for me and most other Tar Heel fans.
Hooray for no more German classes!
Ben Harper tonight at the Greek. I'm more excited about the venue (4 blocks from the apartment) than the performer, but it should be a good show.
I picked up the new-ish Coltrane set from the Half Note in 1965, and it's very, very good. The Half Note is now a convenience store. The idea of seing Trane's quartet (Elvin Bishop, McCoy Tyner, and Jimmy Garrison) in a venue the size of a convenience store, especially in '65, when you can hear him trying to reach a higher plane through his playing, is something I can't comprehend.
Since I'm an Orioles fan, I'm getting excited for UNC Basketball this year. In the new landscape of college basketball, we have a legitimate shot at greatness. That game against Florida Atlantic will be a lot less awkward now that Matt Doherty is at SMU. Seeing him coaching the opposing team in the Dean Dome would be a very conflicting situation for me and most other Tar Heel fans.
Hooray for no more German classes!
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
There will be nearly 1700 players on the rosters of NFL teams this year. A particular one of them went to practice today under the supervision of his blowhard coach, who works for a blowhard owner whose face looks more than a little bit like that of Joan Rivers. Apparently this is a big deal. I could not care less, and I think the voluminous coverage of T.O.'s hamstring is a key indication that simply too much air time and too many column inches must be filled every day with sports news. Any field in which Skip Bayless becomes a noted figure is clearly oversaturated.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
K and I watched "Little Miss Sunshine" the other night, and enjoyed it thoroughly. Very few movies manage to be both funny and good. I thought this one did.
My seminary buddy S and I went and hiked 11 miles along the Marin County coast today, which was a great change of pace and a nice way to spend a day. I'll miss that when I move.
I am dissappointed that I was not a Gomez fan during the last few years. My good friend K sent me an mp3 of "Revolutionary Kind" back when we were both exploiting the glories of university internet connections with pre-Napster litigation innocence. I liked the song a lot then, and for no good reason at all, never even bought an album. Now I am making up for lost time. "How We Operate" is a fine collection of pop songs by a band that can really play their instruments and harmonize. Good stuff.
The German language has permeated my brain. I now dream in German, which would be something if I spoke it fluently, or even competently. I really can only read German. As it stands now though, I say something I don't understand in my German dreams, and then people reply with more German that I don't understand. Maybe I should watch some foreign films, so I can dream in subtitles. Then again, maybe I'll just go see Talladega Nights, the cinematic equivalent of drinking a beer.
My seminary buddy S and I went and hiked 11 miles along the Marin County coast today, which was a great change of pace and a nice way to spend a day. I'll miss that when I move.
I am dissappointed that I was not a Gomez fan during the last few years. My good friend K sent me an mp3 of "Revolutionary Kind" back when we were both exploiting the glories of university internet connections with pre-Napster litigation innocence. I liked the song a lot then, and for no good reason at all, never even bought an album. Now I am making up for lost time. "How We Operate" is a fine collection of pop songs by a band that can really play their instruments and harmonize. Good stuff.
The German language has permeated my brain. I now dream in German, which would be something if I spoke it fluently, or even competently. I really can only read German. As it stands now though, I say something I don't understand in my German dreams, and then people reply with more German that I don't understand. Maybe I should watch some foreign films, so I can dream in subtitles. Then again, maybe I'll just go see Talladega Nights, the cinematic equivalent of drinking a beer.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Random notes:
Jerry Garcia died 11 years ago yesterday.
I translated a german text last night detailing the role of "The Matrix" in propogating a feminist theological formulation of the Trinity. In English, of course, nouns don't have genders, so it matters less.
I was hoping that this would happen.
This may be my favorite standup bit ever.
Jerry Garcia died 11 years ago yesterday.
I translated a german text last night detailing the role of "The Matrix" in propogating a feminist theological formulation of the Trinity. In English, of course, nouns don't have genders, so it matters less.
I was hoping that this would happen.
This may be my favorite standup bit ever.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Beirut
Anthony Bourdain was one of the Americans stuck in Beirut when Hezbollah kidnapped the soldiers and Israel went postal. His account of it, for Salon.com, is excellent. Bourdain, for the record, is a TV chef who does a show about exotic food in exotic places. That makes the quality of this article even more impressive.
The only other thing I'll say right now is that I'm extremely disappointed in our president's response, and that a CNN reporter was spot on the other day in asking a Defense Department official, "Do you see it as slightly ironic that we paid for the food being sent to Lebanese refugees and for the bombs that made them refugees in the first place?"
The only other thing I'll say right now is that I'm extremely disappointed in our president's response, and that a CNN reporter was spot on the other day in asking a Defense Department official, "Do you see it as slightly ironic that we paid for the food being sent to Lebanese refugees and for the bombs that made them refugees in the first place?"
Friday, July 21, 2006
The friendly skies
Airplanes are the safest way to travel, though you apparently have a 1 in 117 chance of having a drunk pilot. Fine. I had said before I went to NC that I missed thunderstorms, as there are none of those here in CA. I got thunderstorms on each of my first 3 nights in Greensboro, and then was able to take in 2 more on the tarmac at RDU. Nice way to spend an hour and a half. Consequently, I missed my connection at Dallas. Here's the good part.
I was one of 8 people trying to make it from my flight into Dallas to a flight to San Francisco, and the only who appeared to have run since the dot-com boom, so I sprinted to the gate to try to hold the plane, missing it by seconds. In retrospect, the bourbon I drank on the plane probably accounts for my sluggishness. No regrets.
People are freaking out. It's 103 degrees in Dallas, and Texas is the home of the president; both concepts hard for denizens of the Bay Area to swallow. All that's left on flights to SFO is standby, and if that doesn't pan out, you get to spend the night in suburban Texas; a prospect that really cheers the group. "If you can put me on a plane to Oakland tonight, I'll be a happy traveller," I say, thinking that Oakland was closer to home, and that many people are scared of that city, for many minorities and poor people live there. Some of them do not even speak English. The ticket agent smiles at me, looks up the flight, and prints out a boarding pass for first class, the last seat available on that flight. My trip just got better, and the people behind me (the non-runners) hate me. Time to go. After a visit to TGIFridays for a fermented beverage and a salad the size of a small child, I'm in a cushy seat with lots of free food and drink (hot towels, too), which I pass up in favor of sleep.
First class is a different world. Rules do not apply to you in first class. The "fasten seatbelts" sign is for the groundlings in coach; in first class, you get up to pee whenever that free chardonnay they give you tells you to. If you don't want to put your seat in the upright position, don't. No one will stop you, you are in first class. If the person next to you snores, stab them in the face with an ice pick. The flight attendant will hurriedly help you hide the body, while apologizing profusely for not stabbing the person before their snoring woke you up, you first class passenger, you.
Today I think my bag will make it to me, so I'll be able to use my regular hygiene products and recharge my laptop.
I was one of 8 people trying to make it from my flight into Dallas to a flight to San Francisco, and the only who appeared to have run since the dot-com boom, so I sprinted to the gate to try to hold the plane, missing it by seconds. In retrospect, the bourbon I drank on the plane probably accounts for my sluggishness. No regrets.
People are freaking out. It's 103 degrees in Dallas, and Texas is the home of the president; both concepts hard for denizens of the Bay Area to swallow. All that's left on flights to SFO is standby, and if that doesn't pan out, you get to spend the night in suburban Texas; a prospect that really cheers the group. "If you can put me on a plane to Oakland tonight, I'll be a happy traveller," I say, thinking that Oakland was closer to home, and that many people are scared of that city, for many minorities and poor people live there. Some of them do not even speak English. The ticket agent smiles at me, looks up the flight, and prints out a boarding pass for first class, the last seat available on that flight. My trip just got better, and the people behind me (the non-runners) hate me. Time to go. After a visit to TGIFridays for a fermented beverage and a salad the size of a small child, I'm in a cushy seat with lots of free food and drink (hot towels, too), which I pass up in favor of sleep.
First class is a different world. Rules do not apply to you in first class. The "fasten seatbelts" sign is for the groundlings in coach; in first class, you get up to pee whenever that free chardonnay they give you tells you to. If you don't want to put your seat in the upright position, don't. No one will stop you, you are in first class. If the person next to you snores, stab them in the face with an ice pick. The flight attendant will hurriedly help you hide the body, while apologizing profusely for not stabbing the person before their snoring woke you up, you first class passenger, you.
Today I think my bag will make it to me, so I'll be able to use my regular hygiene products and recharge my laptop.
Monday, July 17, 2006
You can never go home again
This would be my first extended visit to North Carolina since moving to CA. Many of my friends in Berkeley spend weeks or months in their hometowns, but a week is about all I had time for. Nonetheless, it's been interesting. This is not the first time I moved; my family left VA when I was 12. Trivial, I know, but this blog is the closest I have to a journal, so I'm going to log these thoughts here.
Riding around Chapel Hill and Durham, I don't find myself looking for things that are different so much as simply subconsciously recognizing familiar terrain. After nearly a year in Berkeley, I've become so acclimated to trying to take in as much as possible to familiarize myself with new streets, grocery stores, and landscapes that it takes me by surprise when I find my brain relaxing more as I ride in a car. Apparently Chapel Hill is still home, and I'm not as settled in Berkeley as I'd like to think.
Visiting friends here has been good for my soul. My friends in Chapel Hill are people who were around me as I forged my identity and figured out who I am, a process that led me to graduate school and, God willing, an eventual academic career. I'm blessed to be surrounded by amazing people in Berkeley, and I have formed friendships that I imagine will be lifelong, but something about being around people who know you because they watched you become you is comforting and nourishing. I think this paragraph is the most I've ever written about my feelings on this blog, or anywhere else on the tubes of the internet. That's because I know some of the people I'm talking about read this blog, and I'm lousy at expressing my appreciation in person. Consider this an inadequate substitute. Thank you.
Riding around Chapel Hill and Durham, I don't find myself looking for things that are different so much as simply subconsciously recognizing familiar terrain. After nearly a year in Berkeley, I've become so acclimated to trying to take in as much as possible to familiarize myself with new streets, grocery stores, and landscapes that it takes me by surprise when I find my brain relaxing more as I ride in a car. Apparently Chapel Hill is still home, and I'm not as settled in Berkeley as I'd like to think.
Visiting friends here has been good for my soul. My friends in Chapel Hill are people who were around me as I forged my identity and figured out who I am, a process that led me to graduate school and, God willing, an eventual academic career. I'm blessed to be surrounded by amazing people in Berkeley, and I have formed friendships that I imagine will be lifelong, but something about being around people who know you because they watched you become you is comforting and nourishing. I think this paragraph is the most I've ever written about my feelings on this blog, or anywhere else on the tubes of the internet. That's because I know some of the people I'm talking about read this blog, and I'm lousy at expressing my appreciation in person. Consider this an inadequate substitute. Thank you.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
The first picture is a panorama of First Horizon Park in Greensboro. Click on it to see the full-size version, but please forgive the sloppy photoshop job. This game featured a steal of home by the home team (the Grasshoppers), and a walk-off home run, as well as fireworks, free bread, and Red Oak beer on tap.
The second shot is the final score from tonight's Bulls vs. Clippers game in Durham. Note the hits column. A panorama of this stadium may follow, because I like to amuse myself.
The second shot is the final score from tonight's Bulls vs. Clippers game in Durham. Note the hits column. A panorama of this stadium may follow, because I like to amuse myself.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
I always wanted to be a baseball writer when I was a kid; a dream that I never quite let go of, but which was put aside in favor of the greater interests of someday being a family man and a rival calling to academics. Nonetheless, I still covet that lifestyle, and the following paragraph, written by Roger Angell during Spring Training in 1975, encapsulates my idealization of that particular profession.
It was raining in New York- a miserable afternoon in mid-March. Perfect. Grabbed my coat and got my hat, left my worries on the doorstep. Flew to Miami, drove to Fort Lauderdale, saw the banks of lights gleaming in the gloaming, found the ballpark, parked, climbed to the press box, said hello, picked up stats and a scorecard, took the last empty seat, filled out my card (Mets vs. Yankees), rose for the anthem, regarded the emerald field below (the spotless base paths, the encircling palms, the waiting multitudes, the heroes capless and at attention), and took a peek at my watch: four hours and forty minutes to springtime, door to door.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Funny how easy it is to regard losing in a championship game as a let-down. A team puts together the best season in the history of the program, reaches uncharted waters in the College World Series, and loses in a close deciding game. Great season, nothing to be ashamed of, right? Not if you're the local sports media. The News and Observer chose the asshat headline of the year for their article on game 3 of the College World Series, which we all need to remember was played by young men between the ages of 18 and 22; college kids.
For sure, that was a stomach punch loss for the Tar Heels last night. Absolutely agonizing. Bryan Steed should not be the scapegoat, though. A terrible baserunning error killed a potential rally earlier in the game, UNC hitters chased a lot of bad breaking balls, and most crucially, Oregon State played much better defense than a college team can be expected to play for these two games. Let's not forget that Carolina was up 5-0 in game 2, with Mike "Are you kidding me?" Patrick proclaiming the game to be all but over (this in the 4th inning; Mike is an idiot), when some atrocious defense gave OSU a chance to mount a rally. OSU made the plays, and they won. Jonah Nickerson did a hell of a job getting outs when he needed to, even without his good stuff. Hell of a run, Heels.
N&O Headline writers, meet me here.
For sure, that was a stomach punch loss for the Tar Heels last night. Absolutely agonizing. Bryan Steed should not be the scapegoat, though. A terrible baserunning error killed a potential rally earlier in the game, UNC hitters chased a lot of bad breaking balls, and most crucially, Oregon State played much better defense than a college team can be expected to play for these two games. Let's not forget that Carolina was up 5-0 in game 2, with Mike "Are you kidding me?" Patrick proclaiming the game to be all but over (this in the 4th inning; Mike is an idiot), when some atrocious defense gave OSU a chance to mount a rally. OSU made the plays, and they won. Jonah Nickerson did a hell of a job getting outs when he needed to, even without his good stuff. Hell of a run, Heels.
N&O Headline writers, meet me here.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Pics from the Parents
My parents and my sister were in town last week. Here's some pictures from the week (out of the 142 that Mom took). This layout would look cooler, but I got a little tired of messing with the blogger interface.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Larry Bowa yelled at Corey Patterson for stealing second and third with the Orioles up 10-4 on the Yanquis the other night, telling him to "play the game right."
Since we have seen the Yanqs come back from 9 down to win a game this season, what part of Patterson's steals was bad form? If a team is supposed to stop trying to score once they hold a commanding lead, when is A-Rod going to hit his home runs? If Patterson can steal two bases off of the revered Scott Erickson / Kelly Stinnett battery, why wouldn't he?
Larry Bowa, welcome to the cockpunch list.
Since we have seen the Yanqs come back from 9 down to win a game this season, what part of Patterson's steals was bad form? If a team is supposed to stop trying to score once they hold a commanding lead, when is A-Rod going to hit his home runs? If Patterson can steal two bases off of the revered Scott Erickson / Kelly Stinnett battery, why wouldn't he?
Larry Bowa, welcome to the cockpunch list.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
This site is cooler than you are.
Be sure to tell people that they don't get it. Look at mine. You don't get it, do you? I am a sensitive artist.
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