Hello, Cedar Point!

Life is a roller coaster. An amazing, topsy-turvy ride full of thrills, screams and everything in between. I've had an interesting week, folks. But in the midst of right crosses out of left field, I never could have possibly imagined that the part of my week I've been dreading for weeks would have been the single best thing about it.



Go figure, huh? Live every minute, my friends. Enjoy the ride. Cheers.

Serenity now, people...

Yes, it was a bad bad BAD sports weekend is Southeast Michigan. As someone that is not only a huge sports fan, but also a resident of this area I get that. But you people need to chill the fuck out.

No. Like seriously.


Yes, Michigan lost to State. And the Tigers got knocked out of the playoffs. And the Lions dropped a hard-fought battle to the 49ers. So I get that it sucked. I feel it. But can we just please step back and get some perspective?

First, did anyone expect the Wolverines to go undefeated this year before the season started? If you answer "yes" to this you are a damn liar. Considering the shit sandwich Rodriguez left behind for Hoke, 6-0 was a damn fine start. Once O$U started imploding, it was pretty obvious that Sparty was going to be the toughest opponent on our schedule all season. We went on the road and came within one bad play of tying the game in the 4th quarter, despite MSU having a whole lot more talent and depth on both offensive a defensive lines. Yes, Borges playcalling was suspect, and his failure to compensate for State sending blitz after blitz over the middle is inexcusable.

It sucks because Sparty showed why they will always be Little Brother. They have no class, and that starts at the top. But what else would you expect from a head coach that went to O$U and an athletic department that covers up it's players assaulting the student body (sexually and otherwise) on the regular? It sucks for guys like Mike Martin, who have played thier guts out for four years and will never be able to say they beat those assclowns from Moo U up the road. Thanks, Rich. Thank, Bill Martin.

But at the end of the day, we were beaten by a better team. Michigan is still going to win 9 or 10 games this year, and starting in 2013, MSU might not win a game in the series for a decade. They better enjoy it now.

Next up: Tigers. Enjoy the moment, people. I don't remember Nolan Ryan or Sandy Koufax pitching in their prime, but when I am 70 years old sitting on my rocking chair, I will be telling my grandkids about watching Justin Verlander pitch back in 2011. This Tigers team never should have made it as far as they did; sit back and enjoy the moment, rather than taking every opportunity to bash the team, Leyland, etc.

Finally, the Lions. Seriously, people? San Francisco is a damn good team. Once again, who thought before the season that the Detoit Lions were going to the Super Bowl? (I feel like I'm taking crazy pills for even putting those two in the same sentence, but yes, they do belong there together) Who still thinks they are going? Newsflash: no chance. Not with that offensive line. So this is still a rebuilding year. Enjoy it, for fuck's sake!



This moment of clarity is brought to you by John Cusack, circa 1989.

Ruminations...

"I've missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed."
--Michael Jordan

So...yeah. There is that. Seems particularly fitting this month. If I was a glass half-empty sort of guy, I would have looked at 2008-2009 as 24 wasted months; the most egregious period of sustained failure in my entire life. But I tend to believe everything happens for a reason.

I didn't always. After my father died, I lost faith in God/YHWH/Buddha/Odin/LRonHubbard and the universe itself. I ceased believing in that "things happen for a reason" line. But maybe--just maybe--they really do.

Maybe the key is to never stop learning, and to keep an objective lens pointed upon yourself; not your words but your deeds. It's easier said than done and is sometimes rather painful. I have regrets over the last year, for sure. But I never have to regret not saying how I felt; that was one lesson I learned the first time around.

And life is good, my friends. So good.

Cheers.

You are not David Beckham. PS, your English sucks.

Socks, assholes. Wear them. I have no idea where this new trend of dudes not wearing socks with shoes started coming back, but you hipster douchetards make me want to puke.

This is David Beckham. He is a multi-millionaire soccer player/model. He can get away with wearing no socks; primarily because he can afford a small army of people wash/pedi/powder his feet. I'm sure it seems like the cool guy thing go sockless with your Tom's or loafers, but it is not. Give socks a try, swampfoot. Your peeps will thank you.

On the list of Hipster Things That Annoy Me, how about the overuse of the word "Epic." It's annoying and dumb, primarily because it's just bad English. Look, I realize that as generations pass, people want to use different "cool words" from the previous generation, but the gross overuse of epic for everything dilutes the meaning of the word.

Using words like "epic" to describe how extremely impressed you are by everything has ruined the word. If everything is epic, nothing is epic.

Front lawn seats to Tiësto are not fucking epic, dickface. Epic means "massive and imposing in scale or size." Oceans are epic; lengthy literary narratives are epic; space is epic. Your dinner last night or game of disc golf last Sunday was not epic.

/rant

That is all.

The wisdom of Jon Favreau

The following is my single-favorite exchange from the movie Swingers, one of my all-time favorites and a requisite for any guy. This sums up a semi-recent experience of mine nicely:

Mike: Okay, so what if I don't want to give up on her?
Rob: You don't call.
Mike: But you said I don't call if I wanted to give up on her.
Rob: Right.
Mike: So I don't call either way?
Rob: Right.
Mike: So what's the difference?
Rob: There is no difference right now. See, Mike, the only difference between giving up and not giving up is if you take her back when she wants to come back. But you can't do anything to make her want to come back. In fact, you can only do stuff to make her not want to come back.
Mike: So the only difference is if I forget about her or just pretend to forget about her?
Rob: Right.
Mike: Well that sucks.
Rob: Yeah, it sucks.
Mike: So it's just like a retroactive decision, then? I mean I could, like, forget about her and then when she comes back make like I just pretended to forget about her?
Rob: Right. Although probably more likely the opposite.
Mike: What do you mean?
Rob: I mean at first you're going to pretend to forget about her, you'll not call her, I don't know, whatever... but then eventually, you really will forget about her.
Mike: Well what if she comes back first?
Rob: Mmmm... see, that's the thing, is somehow they know not to come back until you really forget.
Mike: There's the rub.
Rob: There's the rub.


She cancelled on me today. Again. But this time something was different. First, I knew she was going to. Second--and more importantly--I didn't care. I didn't care and it didn't hurt.

Dear God, what a blessed relief.

Never underestimate the power of a long drive to clear your head. I had two this last weekend and I've managed to think and re-think and think again. I guess something in me finally lost the will to fight; to keep on caring more than she did and put as much as I could into this roller-coaster ride while she clearly did not. (11 days ago she's talking about moving in together come September and for the last week she's been "too busy" to hang out for something as simple as having lunch together. WTF is that?)

I'm done wondering. It doesn't matter. Somehow the hole I've been carrying around in the pit of my stomach since February is gone. I don't know what's next, but I look forward to life (for a while at least) without expectations. Damn, it feels good.

Ohio State is SOOOO screwed

This keeps getting better and better. According to this outstanding article by SPORTSbyBROOKS, more sniffing has uncovered the fact that Ohio State Athletic Director Gene Smith redacted specific emails to exclude the name of Ray Small, a former OSU player that received extra benefits similar to the Tat 5.



"Why would he redact Small's name?" you ask? Simple. Small had graduated recently enough that his improper benefits would still fall under the statue of limitations for which OSU could be punished, BUT as he had already left school, the NCAA has no subpoena power over him. The only way the NCAA could have busted OSU on this was if they somehow got their hands on the original, unedited emails. Which they did. Ouch.

Ohio State continuing to redact Small’s name from the complete set of emails is all the more troubling (for them) considering the comments made by Smith in announcing penalties against the football program on Dec. 23, 2010.

At that time, six Buckeyes were cited by Smith for taking extra benefits. But those players did not include Small, who had also committed violations that the NCAA could consider actionable. Despite that fact, Smith said at the time:

“There are no other NCAA violations around this case. We’re very fortunate that we do not have a systemic problem in our program. This is isolated to these young men, and isolated to this particular instance.”

Smith knew of Small’s NCAA rules-violating activities involving Rife, which were inside the NCAA’s statute of limitations, when he made that statement. If Smith believed that Small’s actions were not subject to NCAA penalties, why did Ohio State redact Small’s name from the later-released, complete Cicero-Tressel email correspondence while revealing former Buckeye T.J. Downing’s name?

Clearly Smith misrepresented the situation within the Ohio State program with his comments on Dec. 23, 2010, to the media - at the very least as it pertained to Small.

Put more bluntly, he lied.

So now this isn't just a case of a "rogue coach" or a a few "bad seeds." This is--plain and simple--systemic cheating at the highest level within the athletic department at Ohio State.

Grab your popcorn, kids. This is getting fun.

Starlight on waves

I'm may not be the most intelligent guy out there, but I feel like I've probably accumulated a little wisdom in my thirty-odd years of life. Usually wisdom comes in the form of experience, and it seem experience usually comes via bad choices. Ofttimes the wreckage and debris of these choices can clutter our perception for years to come. The trick, I try to remind myself often, is to keep your perspective correct.

The are moments, my friends, that shine in our memories for years thereafter. Moments of happiness, of joy, of triumph, of glory, of love. If the span of our years is a journey mostly filled with routine, the dull and banal, these moments shine. They glitter, like the fire of starlight on a windy sea at night.


Sadly, sometimes--most times, if we dare admit it to ourselves--the star flares out, gutters and burns itself to ash. All that remains is the memory of starlight on the waves. And if we are not careful, we can find ourselves looking back on these moments with a sense of sadness or loss; but that path leads to bitterness an despair.

No my friends, instead think back in happiness that you were there; in joy and gratitude that you were able to experience it in the first place. That way lies the path to peace and serenity. So smile my friends and if you must weep, weep with joy. For if one holds on to the memories of those great moments, it is always easier to find beauty in the mundane. Tears--for example--can glimmer like stars if you look at them in the correct light.

Happy Easter.

Today on Ask Dr. B2K™

"Dear B2K™, what is 6/9 Disease, please? Thanks, Tom in MI."

Dear Tom, I'm glad you asked. 6/9 Disease--while common--often goes undiagnosed. Here's a quick clinical snapshot to help you identify it in the future.


6/9 Disease (femalis inamibilis dysmorphia)

6/9 Disease is an all-too common condition on some college campuses, military bases and other places where single males outnumber single females. It generally afflicts women, ages 18-25.

Symptoms: 6/9 Disease is characterized by (and draws it's name from) the unfortunate event of a "6" somehow coming to the delusional belief that she is a "9."
Side effects include unreasonable haughty, bitchy and snarky behavior that--while well within acceptable social norms for a true 9--come off as ridiculous and annoying as fuck to all non-desperate males in the general vicinity.

Chances are if you know a girl that looks like an mildly attractive version of the Girl Next Door but acts like she's Gisele Bündchen, this unfortunate creature suffers from 6/9 Disease.

March 30th--Thank a Vet Today

Today (March 30th) is officially Welcome Home Vietnam Veterans Day. As usual, our governments have been slow to recognize the service of our Vietnam Vets. And as is now very well known, our Vets were almost universally treated like shit upon their return to the States (fuck you, hippie scum). If you know someone who served in the 60s or 70s and was lucky enough to make it back from Vietnam (Laos, Cambodia, etc) do the decent thing and extend them some thanks today.

That is all.

It's time to exercise that civic duty...

So yeah, for once I'm writing about something neither snarky nor whimsical. In point of fact, it's dead serious. I'm talking about Governor Rick Snyder's proposal to axe the film industry in Michigan.

As someone who considers themselves a staunch fiscal conservative, I understand the rationale behind Snyder removing the state tax incentive for the film industry. That said, I do believe that this was (maybe the only) one thing that Granholm got right in her term as governor. The program might need an overhaul, but for the good of the state, it most definitely should not be killed completely. If Snyder's current proposal goes into effect, this is exactly what will happen. Mitch Albom delivers the message far more poignantly than I could in this article in the Detroit Free Press.

Those of you not inclined to believe a part-time blogger with a liberal arts degree should check out the following study by Ernst & Young in-depth. It illustrates how, despite over $117M of credits being claimed in FY2010 and $73M claimed in 2009, the actual net adjusted cost (when one factors in things like reductions in UI, new state and local taxes, etc) was only $60.4M and $34.6M respectively in those two years. In addition, new business sales in MI totaled over $503M in FY2010 and $309M in FY2009.


The current incentive might be too generous, but if it's capped at $25M like Snyder proposes, it will kill the industry here in MI. We have a growing industry that--in year three of implementation--has is already bringing in over half a billion dollars a year. Why on earth would we want to get rid of that?

Write your congressman, people! This is important. I’ve attached a link to the Michigan House of Representatives HERE. If you live in/near Ann Arbor, I’ve included the following for your easy access:

District Name Party Phone E-mail

052 Ouimet, Mark R 517-373-0828 MarkOuimet@house.mi.gov
053 Irwin, Jeff D 517-373-2577 JeffIrwin@house.mi.gov
055 Olson, Rick R 517-373-1792 RickOlson@house.mi.gov

(4:33pm Update)
From the time I started writing this particular entry, two things have happened. A.)I got positive return emails from Reps Jeff Irwin and Rick Olson, and B). The Avengers has decided to pull out of the state and film elsewhere. This is just the beginning if Snyder’s budget is passed. If you give a damn about the state of your State, get off your ass, take ten minutes off from Facebook and write your congressman.

Regulate what?

So last week I ended up heading downtown with a couple of friends for evening of mayhem and whatnot. En route, the Warren G song "Regulate" came on the radio, to the delight of most of the vehicle's occupants.

I too, rejoiced at this oldie-but-goodie. But not for the reasons you might think. It's the deeper meaning of the song that tugs at my heartstrings. And if that deeper meaning may have escaped you, dear friend, please read further. I submit for your elucidation a more comprehensive review of this poignant gay love story, set to gangsta-rap hooks.

*****

The song explores the homoerotic relationship between a pair of former lovers, Warren G and Nate Dogg, forced to do adopt stereotypical macho postures and behaviour as cover in the somewhat homophobic culture of American Hip-Hop and gang culture.

On a cool, clear night (typical to Southern California) Warren G, who is attempting to live a heterosexual life style travels through his neighborhood, searching for women with whom he might initiate sexual intercourse. He has chosen to engage in this pursuit alone.

Nate Dogg, having just arrived in Long Beach, seeks Warren. On his way to find Warren, Nate passes a car full of women who are excited to see him. Regardless, he insists to the women that there is no cause for excitement.

Warren makes a left turn at 21st Street and Lewis Ave, in the East Hill/Salt Lake neighborhood, where he sees a group of attractive young men enjoying a game of dice together. He parks his car and greets them. He is very excited to find people to play with, but to his chagrin, he discovers they intend to relieve him of his material possessions. Once the hopeful robbers reveal their firearms, Warren realizes he is in a less than favorable predicament.

Meanwhile, Nate passes the women, as they are low on his list of priorities. His primary concern is locating his old lover Warren G. After curtly casting away the strumpets (whose interest in Nate was such that they crashed their automobile), he serendipitously stumbles upon his former partner, Warren G, being held up by the young miscreants.


Warren, unaware that Nate is surreptitiously observing the scene unfold, is in disbelief that he is being robbed. The perpetrators have taken jewelry and a name brand designer watch from Warren, who is so incredulous that he asks what else the robbers intend to steal. This is most likely a rhetorical question.

Observing these unfortunate proceedings, Nate realizes that he may have to use his firearm to deliver his former lover from harm.

The tension crescendos as the robbers point their guns to Warren's head. Warren senses the gravity of his situation. He cannot believe the events unfolding could happen in his own neighborhood. As he imagines himself making a fantastical escape, he catches a glimpse of his former partner, Nate.

Nate has seventeen cartridges (sixteen residing in the pistol's magazine, with a solitary round placed in the chamber and ready to be fired) to expend on the group of robbers. Afterward, he generously shares the credit for neutralizing the situation with Warren, though it is clear that Nate did all of the difficult work. Putting congratulations aside, Nate quickly reminds himself that he has committed multiple homicides to save Warren before letting his friend know that there are females nearby if he wishes to fornicate with them.

Warren recalls that it was the promise of heterosexual copulation that coaxed him away from his previous activities, and is thankful that Nate knows a way to satisfy these urges. Nate quickly finds the women who earlier crashed their car on Nate's account. He remarks to one that he is fond of her physical appeal. The woman, impressed by Nate's singing ability, asks that he and Warren allow her and her friends to share transportation. Soon, both friends are driving with automobiles full of women to the East Side Motel, presumably to consummate their flirtation in an orgy enabling Warren and Nate to have sex ’together’ but maintain their ostensibly heterosexual personas.

The third verse is more expository, with Warren and Nate explaining their G Funk musical style. Warren displays his bravado by daring anyone to approach the style. There follows a brief discussion of the genre's musicological features, with special care taken to point out that in said milieu the rhythm is not in fact the rhythm, as one might assume, but actually the bass. Similarly the bass serves a purpose closer to that which the treble would in more traditional musical forms. Nate displays his bravado by claiming that individuals with equivalent knowledge could not even attempt to approach his level of lyrical mastery. Nate goes on to note that if any third party smokes as he does, they would find themselves in a state of intoxication almost daily (from Nate's other works, it can be inferred that the substance referenced is marijuana). Nate concludes his delineation of the night by issuing a threat to "busters," suggesting that he and Warren will further "regulate" any potential incidents in the future (presumably by engaging their antagonists with small arms fire).

*****

Yeah. So now you know.

Because overkill is underrated

I don't know if this guy is at the wrong gig, like the name of the video clip implies; he's definitely upping the Awesomeness quotient of Elysburg, PA.



Yeah, that just happened. FWIW, I'm going to everything in my power to hire Rick K & the Allnighters for some random event in the upcoming year. I think maybe the best part about this whole thing is that this guy looks so much like a Chris Farley impersonator it takes a full 90 seconds or so before it sinks in that yeah, this guy is totally serious.

Here's to you Steve Moore. Well done, sir.