The Web is now filled with the desperate screeching and blaming, the Clinton campaign is nearing a bitter end. At this point, I am reminded of Executor; shields down, anti-gravity generator destroyed, leaning into it's fatal collision with Death Star II (aka "Europe's political left"). I imagine the deckhands, made aware of the impending conflagration, would sound something like this (via ATLMalcontent).
Oh, look out; the Braves are off the deck. I don't care if San Diego is the worst team in the league; the Braves rallied from behind to tie, then win, a baseball game. Not only that, they strung together some hits to put the winning run across. Pittsburgh is warming up, but I think the Pirates will see a much-improved ballclub , and they'll play four this time.
Ah, the beautiful sounds of dissonance. This double-dose involves Wikipedia founder Jimmy Wales.
This post, over at Bernaisesource, relays the lament of the corporate PR rep, lobbying (in likely futility) against Wikipedia's Conflict of Interest policy.
I would normally never link to a Gawker site, but this time, the fit of indignant spite (aka "butthurt") is too much to resist. Valleywag has a bitchpiece about Wales.
Apparently, Mr. Wales has brought up quite a reputation for telling Silicon Valley to politely crawl off and die somewhere. Not only does the guy correctly segregate the corporate shills, he demonstrates the true commercial value of 'net content: zero, or next to it. I mean, if you're going to be an anti-corporation, you may as well max out the theme.
So, I finally checked out the "Bissinger/Leitch" argument, once it became clear that episode was setting off the Journalism debate outside of the sports journo space. For all the bluster about Bissinger being a complete asshole, my main impression was:
"We've secretly replaced Bob Costas with Jim Gray Crystals. Let's see if anyone notices the difference."
I was half-expecting a nameless thug to dash out and break Leitch's knuckles with a lead pipe. For his part, Leitch handled the ambush rather well. Although, he did screw up in at least one place: Gawker sites are controlled membership, with Deadspin using postings as a form of audition. Those who can prove they've can make comments that jibe with the blog's desired 'mood' eventually join. So, the "anyone can post" comment is a sign of butt-covering.
However, if Costas/Bissinger actually had legitimate intent to begin with, they'd have wrung Leitch out with that point. They were working from a playbook (if not a script), however, so there was no actual discussion of how Deadspin sucks.
Actually, that exchange reveals their overall play here. HBO/Costas/Bissinger have used Deadspin as a proxy for sports blogs, and the blogosphere in general. Doing otherwise might have led to legitimate discussion of the topic.
It was a great evening for baseball. The days' rain gave way to clear, cool skies, and instilled Sunday laziness a day early. And so, I went to the game last night.
While the score was 2-1, in the top of the 5th or 6th, fans in the leftfield corner tried to start a Wave. Now, I've recently posted a nice, long rant about the improper use of the Wave. I was warming up a live rant for this one, when I spotted the culprits--Braves staff, attempting to kick-start the misdirected cheering. Go figure. Fortunately, the wave never made it past the larval stage, dying out against the batter's eye. I think the weather made folks too lazy to bother.
And then, we started scoring in the 7th. The third time through the lineup proved bountiful, and a few runs and hits furher limbered up the crowd, who had apparently awoken during the stretch. With our team at bat, a new Wave started in its correct context; given a decent lead, an initial, weak Wave limped around the stadium, and that weak showing acted as a fuse for a shockwave the likes of which I haven't seen in years.
It was as if Turner Field was invaded by folks who knew what they were doing, and it was beautiful. Reverberating, echoing, cheering, the shockwave rattled Reds' relievers enough for Mark Kotsay to swat a two-run double, and Matt Diaz to swat a deep sac fly to center (a rare productive out for this year's team). Three RBI in all. Hats off, folks.
Metroblogs Atlanta Has a post questioning the wisdom of an SI report which ranks "The Ted" 19th out of 30 MLB stadiums. I don't have (and don't plan on getting) a Metblogs login, so I'll comment here.
19th is rather easy to achieve, once you factor in...
It's Sports Illustrated. They're New Yorkers, that's -2 for any Atlanta venue.
It's Sports Illustrated's website. List whoring rules provide -1 for any legitimate venue, to generate "discussion", and nipple-rubs for the marketing weasels.
Dauler or whatever "jesters" are in our ear today. -1.
Mega-Jumbotron, Stupid Jumbotron games, and associated corner displays. -1.
Doctrinal use of noise machine. -1.
Aramark. -1, though the junk food has improved this year. Investigation is in progress.
So, if the Baseball Gods descended to Earth, and sent the appropriate people down river (sorry, Columbus!), then we'd rank in the 15th range or so, and that's only because New Yorkers and web lists are regularly full of themselves.
It's that time again...my current project just went live, and I'm looking forward to a month of intermittent problems and stand-by.
In the meantime, I'm continuing the exploration into functional programming land, with a look at Haskell. My first impression is "Holy shit!"
The Hawks have forced a Game 7, the Braves won a game, and oh boy, was there a party crowd last night. More on that, later.
Oh yeah, flowers. Thyme is blooming, garlic is blooming, and there is honeysuckle blooming on the back fence. The latter will make for some grand patio-dwelling during the next month or two.
I don't think the U.S. economy is 3rd-world yet. I will say that 3rd-world economy and governance is the modern "conservative's" version of Manifest Destiny, and they've come a long way toward fulfilling that goal (at least since 1994).
And so, I got tired of The Bullshit(tm), and walked down to the park for an evening of practicing my disc golf. Beautiful weather, fresh-cut grass, I didn't really care that I couldn't hit the broad side of a barn from 20 paces. It was a good session.
As the Celtics have discovered to their chagrin, Phillips Arena is, in fact, a fully armed and operational battlestation. :D At the same time, similar to Josh Beckett in '03 NLCS, and Dustin Pedroia in last years' World Series, several Hawks have made the change from "professional basketball player" to "major league basketball player.
The result: my suspicions were confirmed with Epic Wins in game 3 and 4, at home. The Atlanta Hawks are a playoff-caliber team, the Arena is no fun to visit, and the Celtics leave town with their heads ringing like the rails they were run out of town on. This is a beautiful thing.
Senator Obama's "nutty preacher problem", so described in an earlier post, is now a microcosm of his entire campaign. Pastor Wright, when given an opportunity to voice his opinions after the bulk of controversy has subsided, has revealed himself to be quite rigidly locked in the methods, practices, and agendas that have made him. In short, Jeremiah Wright is a card-carrying member of Senator Clinton's voter base. It really should come as no surprise that Pastor Wright is being shipped around with as loud a megaphone as Clinton's supporters can find, letting Obama's "mentor" frame his own case for guilt by association.
We are reminded that in the opinion of the American School, Obama is at best a heretic; the upstart who is not "black enough" (to coin Marvin Arrington's debate slant),in terms of both "patronage" and adoption of the faction's insularity, to rank as a worthy member of either the tribe or its chosen political party.
Let's be clear about a few things. This revelation is a much more concrete problem than the contrivance that is "Bittergate". However, this is another instance, however closer to home it may be, of the existing conflicts within both the Democrat party, and African-American power structure. Mr. Wright, and the direct opposition to Obama's platform, is also an electorally lethal tool in the hands of the school of thought whose stock in trade is the exploitation of such differences.
Rowland's Office has picked up on the Braves' balky offense. I played with some stats, but got highly inconsistent data, so I'll re-check over the weekend, using better data (from baseball-reference.com this time).
Hey, look: Wizards/TSR have a silly "D-n-D name generator", where you enter a few letters from your name, select chosen (or random) character specs, and receive a dungeon-esque sounding name to impress your friends and influence gamers. This started out fun, until I got to the newer listboxen fields to select your character's...
"Profession?"
"Fame?"
What the hell kind of Web 3.5 (beta) bullshit is this, anyway?
When I was a kid, we started with 1 level, a junk sword or dagger, maybe a spell, and a will to not spend another half-hour rerolling. And if we were lucky, we had more than 4 hit points. And we worked our way from the bottom up, kobold by kobold, orc by orc, rat by smelly-ass rat, zombie by decomposing zombie.
We went in Search of the Unknown.
We launched raids from the Keep on the Borderlands.
We took sail to the Isle of Dread, and taught that Tyrannosaur what 6d6 really meant.
We killed the High Priest of Waterdeep, and for good measure, killed the beholder that priest opposed.
We set up guilds, keeps, and towers; and then we led armies to victory.
And when our days were short, we sought immortality.
And we were fucking good at it.
Baker? Blacksmith? Lackey? Valet? They're all pseudonyms for Normal Human. Normal. As in, "What your pansy-ass character does to share the pain of your miserable day job." As in, "I'm a Wizard/Bard, and it's O.K. I work all night and I sleep all day."
I love the suicidal Creme Egg commercials. Nobody ate them (presumably for Easter, in the U.S.), so they have to "let their goo out" somehow. Obviously, the support networks for Creme Eggs are somewhat lacking, as dialogue is somewhat limited with a one-word ("goo") vocabulary.
This extended weekend has seen quite a few firsts, starting with the test drives of 2008 Toyota Prius and 1964 Ford Falcon. I've rented the Prius, and my friend owns the Falcon.
Prius
It's the future, and so far, I like it. I still haven't quite wrapped my mind around the concept of starting a car via "Power" button. 44MPG in traffic is f'ing wonderful, by the way; my current ride (the beloved Crown Vic) gets 18 in those conditions, on a good day. The bad: Prius' seats are too high, and has several annoying "dumb driver" features that may be standard on new cars these days. Weird: The selection of which features were implemented as powered/electronic or manual seems a bit schizophrenic; for example: the windows, locks, and shifting is electronic, but the cruise, wipers, and lights (interior as well) have the same manual control found in the smaller cars for the past 20 or 30 years.
So, I made a round trip from Atlanta to Oxford, MS, including 4 hours of Atlanta traffic and 3 days of driving around Oxford, on 17 gallons. This sounds like a lot, but 17 gallons is usually enough for a one-way trip plus change. I got 48.x MpG going out, and 52.1 MpG coming back, while largely driving 65-70 MpH, with a few periods of < 60 and > 70 MpH. Prius' sweet spot seems to be in the 55-65 range; that's where I ended up getting the highest mileage (65+MPG). Also, there's much to be said for puttering around a parking lot on battery power.
I've heard the tales of how Prius' stats are skewed in some way; after this test drive, I can say the complainers are Doing it Wrong(tm).
Falcon
Old-school cruising: The 289 V-8, 3-speed column-shifted, 2-door Falcon Futura, fully restored to former cruising goodness. It has manual steering and brakes, bench seats, a steel body, dual-pane windows, and dual exhausts. The field of view of the rear-view mirror is actually smaller than the rear glass; that's something you never see anymore. Seriously, I kept thinking I was driving a convertible, because there wasn't a post or roof occupying most of the mirror's field of view. It's a reminder of what it's like to drive a heavy car with a real motor, and a definite throwback to a simpler time. There's a bit of lost art in letting a car drive itself, particularly out of curves.
New Beetle
This car was ok to drive, and awesome to sit in. I have never driven a car with so much visibility that wasn't a convertible. It's like driving a spaceship of some sort. The 5-cylinder engine sounds like a regular engine with a timing problem, so that could take some getting used to. Also, there's no diesel option available until at least '09.
After these drives, I'm officially in the market for either (a) Prius or (b) diesel Bug.
Prior to the disc golfing adventure, I stopped into a Gamestop to check out what was new. The moral of that story is: with classic games receiving exclusive release status on the various consoles, I'll have to buy one of each. This would happen right after I bought a TV, so I'm looking at $1000-$1500 outlay to play video games. This makes me a sad puppy. :(
What tempts me anyway: Sega has remade Alien Syndrome, a game I fed far, far too many quarters back when I was riding bicycles to the arcades. Between this, and the Wii's innate awesomeness, I might go splurge anyway. This is where yard sales come in handy.
Continuing on the "try new things" theme for this weekend, I played my first 18 holes of Disc Golf yesterday, for a round score of +19. The course was cut through a wooded hill, and involved what I thought were very tight (5'-8') fairways and some semi-rugged, stump-covered terrain. Each hole was listed at par-3, for simplicity. "Golfing discs" are now on the want list. I actually hit a string of pars in the middle holes, and let a few easy putts get away from me.
Ah, the good times. The Dodgers played in town this past weekend, and the Braves swept the weekend series. It's like having one's cake and eating it, too. The offense is starting to click on all cylinders now, and the bullpen is looking highly resilient. Now, we get the Nationals for a few games; let's see four or five in a row from the home team.
So, Braves fans: here we are, with two on and two out in the top of the fifth, up 2-0, changing pitchers. Specifically, we are removing a starter who has given up two hits and three walks over 4 2/3 shutout innings, That's one out shy of win eligibility, IIRC. Why are we changing the pitcher?
Because YOU did the WAVE when your team was in the field.
What the hell, people? We have enough trouble winning a game these days without you fools screwing up our pitching any worse than it already is.
Yet there you go, following the lead of some fools in the rightfield corner who can't keep it in their pants for a half-inning. Up and down, all around, to the delight of said fools in the rightfield corner, and to the distraction of Jeff Bennett, who promptly lost all semblance of control. A double and a walk later, we're sending Bennett to the showers to protect a two-run lead, and expending another half-game of relief pitching.
The best part? We drew two walks and hit a homerun to lead off the bottom of the fifth, expanding the lead to 5-0, and giving Bennett room to pitch another inning or two. But no, we were already in the bullpen. So, which two relievers were used when they shouldn't have been: Ohman(1 1/3 inning), Carlyle (2/3 inning), Boyer (1 1/3 inning), or Acosta (1 inning)?
Remember last season, when all our relievers started sucking because their arms were wrung out by August? No, I guess you don't, because you chased our starter with the Wave.
What you might remember is the part where we sent Blaine Boyer to hit for himself with the bases loaded and two outs in the seventh. Didn't that look silly? Why, yes it did. And it looked silly because we needed Boyer to pitch the eigth inning, because you chased Bennett with the Wave in the fifth.
I haven't been paying attention to the promotion schedule, but I don't recall hearing about Friday being Craniorectal Night. I'd support the addition of that promotion to the schedule, though. It would work similarly to the "prostate cancer days" promotions, in that a mobile clinic would give free screeings for craniorectalism. Additionally, this clinic could provide optional treatment for those found with the condition.
Look at this nonsense. I cut this sage back to stumps in February. I'll have to cut this back again, just to keep it from drought-induced death during the summer. The oregano is even crazier, but I don't have an adequate picture yet. And, the thyme is covered in blooms now. Spring? It's more like: Sproing!
Don't look now, but the Hawks are in the playoffs! So, they're the 8th seed, big deal. They're playing the Celtics, and I feel this matchup isn't as bad as the seedings imply.
Also, the Gwinnett Gladiators open their second-round series in Charleston on Saturday. If I wasn't headed the opposite direction this weekend, I'd take a weekend trip out to the coast. Games 2 and 3 will be played in Duluth on Monday and Tuesday.
So, all those "free" lunches at training had a price after all. The days of cooping up in air-conditioning have produced Lesser Plague, and it's still hanging around. Hopefully, I'll get rid of this junk before Saturday.
Look at this nonsense. I cut this sage back to stumps in February. I'll have to cut this back again, just to keep it from drought-induced death during the summer. The oregano is even crazier, but I don't have an adequate picture yet. And, the thyme is covered in blooms now. Spring? It's more like: Sproing! 