Lessons from Kansas - Lutherans

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Lutherans really are everything Garrison Keillor implies in his "Lake Wobegon" stories - solid, musical, staid, repressed, happy-because-they're-supposed-to-be, and steadfast in their beliefs, no matter what darkness looms.

One belief is that fellow Lutherans are good people, primarily because they're Lutheran. Back at church one Christmas a few years ago, I was talking to a kid a few years behind me in school, and he told me he was going to be a lawyer. I made some off-handed lawyer joke, and he said in all earnestness, "No, no, it's OK, I'll be a Lutheran lawyer."

Some of you may recall Thomas Bird. He was a Lutheran pastor found guilty of hiring some dude to kill his wife. There was even a mini-series made about it - Murder Ordained. Dun-dun-DUNNNNN!

And yet Lutherans (mostly) maintain his innocence. My dad always did, having met him briefly once. A counselor I had at summer church camp even married the guy, meeting him after he began serving his life-sentence-without-parole.

Well, the BTK (that's "blind, torture, kill") serial killer tracked down in Wichita offers new challenges to the Lutheran blind spot. Yes, that's right. Mr. BTK was president of Christ Lutheran Church in Wichita.

He's expected to enter a plea once he goes to trial, but he thanks the congregation for their continued prayers and support.

There's nothing quite like the redemptive spirit of the Lutherans. Although I'm sure that the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod would be quick to point out that Mr. BTK is a part of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, i.e. the Liberal Lutherans. Some of those Lutherans even like the queers. The Missouri Synod won't tolerate the sodomites, but wife-killing Reverend Bird is innocent, and don't you forget it.

More on Kyrgzstgzyrkstn

This pretty much confirms that I have absolutely no understanding of what goes on in the rest of the world, or how and why it goes on.

Some Batting Practice

I just got back from a session at the Astoria batting cages. I don't feel like less of a man admitting that they kicked my ass. There are many reasons I am less of a man, and a lack of success at batting cages doesn't contribute to that. I like to think of batting cages as manhood's extra credit: if you do well, you add to your manliness, but if you don't, so what. You see, you get points for going to the batting cages and participating in an athletic endeavor in the first place.

And I'm a switch-hitter. Going both ways in baseball adds points to manliness, whatever gay implications there may be when it comes to switch-hitting in general.

But yeah, today, I sucked. In my defense, the cages there are cramped. I kept hitting the wall with my follow through swing and it threw my timing off. Plus, you pay for time there, as opposed to a number of pitches. And I tell you what: swinging at baseballs for fifteen minutes straight is pretty tiring, especially when every so often you switch sides of the plate.

I make pretty good contact in general, and today was no exception. But when you go to the cages, what you really look forward to are those pitches you hit solidly. The bat seems to go through the ball, as you hardly feel it in your hands; the ball jumps into the cage's net. And when you get in a groove, and you hit a bunch of solid line drives in a row and things are clicking, well, it's freakin' magical. Today, in that fifteen minutes, I had no groove. I hit three pitches really well - one from the right side and two from the left.

But of course it's those three pitches that will bring me back to the Astoria batting cages.

Hoping They All Lose

It's difficult to stay interested in turf wars when there's no one to root for. For example, I've lost track of what's happening with the westside stadium. Many enormous business ventures are spending millions on television commercials pretending to have their movements backed by the grassroots. Cablevision vs. the NY Jets/city government/2012 Olympic hopes. Throw in the added benefit of having the MTA own the current proposed building site with the potential of profiting enormously from any sale while subway service declines and fares go up, and seriously, I want all three-plus major players to rot in hell or, at least, lose.

Cablevision and TimeWarner are the players in the other battle I've lost interest in. I don't have cable television, but I watch the occasional baseball game at friends' homes that do. And with the current stalemate between the city's two cable giants, the majority of Mets' games are currently untelevised. While this is good for personal productivity and saves my wife from being a baseball widow, Mets' fans are missing their baseball.

Or are they? Turns out Mets' fans are creating their own mini-Shea stadiums in the form of sports bars that have DirecTV, the only carrier of all the New York teams. It's creating a communal buzz about the Mets throughout the city, both in terms of PR and blood alcohol level.

So now when the Mets break our hearts as they inevitably do, even though they're the only conglomerate in all these battles we desperately hope won't lose, at least we'll already be drowned in our sorrows.

Report from Queens

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Empty storefronts begin to reveal their true nature, and a vaguely confused Sunnyside ponders the results. Along the Boulevard of Death, next to a gaggle of people Waking Up With the King, locals double-take: that's Cheesesteak, not Cheesecake. Is it a chain of its own, or is some enterprising Queens resident simply borrowing equity from the factory of a similar name? Our fair borough waits with baited breath, and looks forward to identical results - our ever-widening Queens' asses - in either case.

A Long Overdue Update

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

After lamenting the approaching death of my favorite coffee mug (note the hairline fracture going down the entire length of the left-hand mug), the coffee fairy sent me the mug on the right. The coffee fairy is the best of all fairies, and my only excuse for neglecting to thank him/her sooner is that this is the first time both mugs have been clean at the same time for the photo-op.

Thank you, coffee fairy. I forever kiss your ass in gratitude. I shall do all I can to stay on your good side for all time. Ah, sweet, sweet nectar of life...

Country Club Grazing

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

One buffalo said, "I prefer the grass courts of Wimbledon? That's good eats."

"But the French Open clay courts hide the crap better," observed another.

Dickhead of the Week - Addendum

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Reid says, "We'll compromise." Frist says, "Fuck you, we will not." Yes, that's right. Bill "Limp" Frist out-Dickheads this week's Dickhead! Senator Frist of Tennessee, YOU are Dickhead of the Week.

Dickhead of the Week - Harry Reid

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

John "Michael" Bolton almost won out again this week, as more and more he turns out to be the Dickhead I predicted weeks ago, but there are times that the Democratic Party and its leaders piss me off so much, I feel the need to call them to the carpet. These days, it's sort of like kicking puppies, but that's part of the problem, too. Democrats are puppies. Senator Harry Reid, minority leader from Nevada, is compromising. To avoid the "nuclear option," he's considering allowing votes on some of the extremist judges that should rightly get filibustered. While I've been pleased with the fight the Dems have put up over Social Security, they compromise too often, especially when they don't have to. The public often stands with the Party (most people don't want to see the end of the filibuster), but then when they compromise, the public doesn't know what the fuck they stand for. It makes me nuts, and it might be the only reason that I call the Democratic Party "them" and not "us." Take a stand, Harry, and then stick to it, for crying out loud.

Speechum

I just returned from my first game of the 2005 season at Shea: Mets vs. Braves, which the Mets won 5-4. The Braves are easily my least favorite team in sports. It's ridiculous in this day and age that there are still American Indian mascots for pro sports teams. The Redskins are by far the most offensive name, but that's football, which is a sport I just don't enjoy as much as baseball. Baseball has the Braves and the Indians, but as a National League fan, my spite and spit are saved for the Braves. Plus they do that obnoxious tomahawk chop, which really gets my blood going. On top of that, any team that can't sell out a playoff game has the worst fans in the world. So screw the Atlanta fans, too. There are many reasons to dislike the Braves.

I did, however, discover that the Braves have a backup third baseman named Wilson Betimet. He's hitting .111 so far this year, and I'm calling him Speechum.

His new nickname makes me happy, which is the first time the Atlanta Braves have given me pleasure since I became a Mets fan. Although since it's a nickname my buddy Lewis and I came up with over the course of a few slow minutes of the game, I guess, really, the Braves didn't have anything to do with the pleasure after all. So screw the Atlanta Braves and their fans. But God bless Wilson Speechum Betimet.

Nice Goin', Genius

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

There's so much. I know, there's so much. But here's a little one. For this guy, anyway. Medicare's rejection of claims will be harder to fight. Old folks used to be able to go to their local social security offices for hearings. Now they'll have to go to Miami, Cleveland, Irvine (CA), or Arlington (VA), or participate in phone or video conference calls. Because, you know, judges can see how healthy a person is over the phone or on video. Just ask Dr. Frist. And all this coming at a time when Medicare itself is changing its rules, which will almost certainly up the total number of claims/rejections. Is this jackass ever gonna do something that's a good idea?

Reading Literary Fiction

I just read the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. I even finished it, which makes me far superior to the rest of you fucking illiterates. Let me start by saying that I liked it very much. And if you think that I'm leading to a big "but," you're right. So I liked it, BUT...

It's probably the most hoity-toity book I've read since college, you know, Literary, with that capital L. Reading has been a challenge for me for as long as I can remember. As a kid, it was an issue of not wanting to sit still that long. I much preferred going outside and playing baseball, often by myself, which is probably a post for another time. My sister read book after book, and I just couldn't get interested. Then, in high school, it seemed like we read short stories rather than longer fiction. I mean, sure, I read a couple of the classics - Scarlet Letter, Grapes of Wrath, Farewell to Arms - but I don't really remember them, and I never had a teacher that got me excited about reading.

In college, I had some great teachers - teachers excited about their subjects - and I finally began to enjoy reading for real. And good thing. It was a school that required hundreds of pages of reading a week, followed by writing between five and thirty of your own. Even through my enjoyment, however, reading had a strange effect on me. It made me sleepy. I would combat this by keeping myself as uncomfortable as possible, often standing in the middle of my dorm room with the windows wide open in the middle of winter.

After college I discovered something significant. There are books out there that actually keep you awake. These books are generally not high-brow. But they can be. There were exceptions to the reading-making-me-tired rule in college - Richard Wright's Native Son, Tolstoy's Anna Karenina, Stendahl's The Red and the Black, anything by James Baldwin, and even Dickens' Great Expectations and David Copperfield. Those are generally considered high-brow or Literary (with that capital L).

On top of the symbolism and image systems, authors' large vocabularies, and brilliant socio-political commentary, those books have page-turning plots. Great stories, well told. The contemporary literary fiction I've read (yes, including Gilead) has almost no plot. I'm rarely asking, "What's going to happen next?" So there's no dramatic tension between the reader and the material. It's all about being appreciated on some objective, intellectual level. I want some damned suspense. I want to be on the edge of my seat. I want all the crap that makes a book Literary to be working on a subconscious level while I enjoy being surprised by the twists and turns of a good story. Isn't fiction, after all, a storytelling medium? Nothing seems to happen in the Literary Fiction I've read.

And yes, of course, there are exceptions. Ian McEwan, for example, has mastered the art of great plot within the realm of the Literary. But then, there are those who don't consider him Literary.

Gilead should be commended in its ability to hold my attention without a plot to speak of. It probably demonstrates that Marilynne Robinson has more skill as a writer than just about anyone else I've read. And she's smart and philosophical and observant and complicated. But, dammit, what I really enjoy is a good story with, like, a real plot and shit.

Early Disappointment

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger's first act as Pope was to name himself. The man can call his papacy whatever he wants, and he goes with Benedict. Only John is less original than Benedict (with XXIV so far), and Gregory is its equal in lack of originality (with XVI), in papal terms.

Ratzinger's a conservative and a traditionalist, so I'll grant that he wouldn't want to be MoonFrye or Tariq the First.

But there's a long list of perfectly good pre-used papal monikers to select from, and here are just a few that I think Cardinal Ratzinger should have considered over Benedict:

Sixtus would have been a great choice as there have already been five of them. Who wouldn't want to be Sixtus the Sixth?

If he'd wanted to suggest a return to innocence for the church, Innocent XIV might have been nice, if not terribly original.

Simply saying "Boniface" is fun, and there hasn't been one since 1404. He could've been Boniface X, which also would've been a nice shout-out to the Nation of Islam.

He could've been II for any of the following badass names: Hyginus, Formosus, Donus, Evaristus, Sisinnius, Hormisdas, Symmachus, Deusdedit, Eleutherius, Zosimus, or Telesphorus.

A nod to Charles Schultz might've been nice with Linus. Same for George Lucas with Lando.

Simplicius might not acknowledge the shades of gray in life, and Hilarus might strike the wrong chord, but Pius would indicate a strong moral leader, and Celestine would be a prophetic choice.

To reach out to the entertainment industry, he might've considered Callistus (Flockhart), Conon (O'Brien), or Christopher (Guest, Reeves, Walken). To embrace the gays, he might've tried Gaius, and if there's going to be an attempt to stop the decline of Catholicism in our cities, Urban would've been a strategic option.

So to those of you who are awaiting and/or expecting great things from Benedict XVI, if his first holy act is any indication, I wouldn't hold your breath.

Suddenly a Guilty Pleasure

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

This is the fourth season of 24 on everyone's favorite network, Fox. I've been enjoying the show pretty much from the beginning. The first two seasons in particular genuinely surprised me on more than one occasion. The action sequences are pretty good for TV, and it's always fun to watch a character go through hell. It feels like Kiefer's whole career has been leading up to having exceptionally bad days, and many of them.

From the beginning, there has been the occasional suspect acting and stilted dialogue. But those things have been relatively easy to ignore for the simple reason that creating a 24-hour story in real time -- and pulling it off -- is a difficult undertaking. There will be minor glitches like weak dialogue and weaker acting.

The show came under fire early this season for its negative stereotypes about the Arab world (the bad guy this year is an Arab terrorist). Over the first three seasons, the show had an African-American president from the Democratic Party. So we're not necessarily talking about a show based in reality. But still, I understood and ultimately overlooked the issue. 24 works largely because it panders to our fears, xenophobic and otherwise.

The show, however, finally pushed my political buttons with this week's episode. A character we (the audience) know is bad news gets arrested. Mastermind bad guy gets him a lawyer from "Amnesty Global." So with the clock ticking its way toward nuclear proliferation, the Counter Terrorist Unit is unable to "extract information" from the suspect. The argument in favor of torture and against his civil liberties was just a little too simple and a little too Bushie. And of course, in this case, getting information out of this baddie is way more important than his stupid civil liberties.

So clearly, all those people in Cuba need to be held indefinitely. Aw, Christ.

I forgot the issue momentarily while I thoroughly enjoyed how Kiefer got around that particular obstacle (he even tazered one of his own men!). But, dammit. Now I have to watch the show through guilt-filtered lenses.

Jewish Catholics?

Did the conclave just elect a Jew to be Pope? Well, if Cardinal Ratzenheimer thinks his new alias "Benedict XVI" is gonna fool anyone, he's got another thing coming.

Papal Scoring

The Cardinals are currently 0 for 2 in their search for new Pope. Although in their second vote, a devastating error was committed by conclave third baseman, Cardinal Law. Having already misjudged the all-important pop-up of sexual abuse in the U.S., Law made the mistake of pointing out the cushiness of his punishment, causing a number of his fellow Cardinals to punish him a step closer to infallibility with their votes. Mark that E5 in your scorebooks, and somehow in my head this analogy made a lot more sense than it does written out.

Ah, forget it. There's no new pope yet, OK?

Five-Two, Eyes of Hazel

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Happy birthday, Mom. Hope you don't shrink too much this year. Other than the eyelids, of course.

John and Joe

I'm trying really hard to keep the baseball posts to a minimum, honest, but it's that time of year, I'm afraid. And will be until October. LET'S GO METS!

Anyway, John Rocker's in the New York area again. After calling 7-train riders a bunch of green-haired faggots who can't speak English, he's now pitching about a half-hour from Shea Stadium in an independent league as an apparent comeback attempt. His career, then his rotator cuff, fell apart in the two seasons following that damning Sports Illustrated article, right after which the whole league correctly shunned the bigot.

One man who hasn't shunned him is his agent, Joe Sambito. Joe was a hero of mine during my years in Houston as a kid. My sister thought he was really cute. I have some vague memory of her enjoying a picture of him in white short shorts. I liked him for his pitching. Really. Even though he always had an impressive tan. There were a couple of seasons in which Joe was the best reliever in baseball. He snapped wicked fastballs and nasty curves into Alan Ashby's mitt to save many-a-game for the Astros of the late 70s. But then he snapped his elbow and, after a failed comeback bid of his own, has now apparently become an agent.

I don't want to tell Joe Sambito that he can't work, but did he really have to demystify his hero status by representing John "Foreigners Suck" Rocker? I mean, come on, buddy. Aren't you Latino?

Dickhead of the Week - Ralph Reed

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

If Bill "The Left Hates Christians" Frist hadn't been named Dickhead a couple weeks ago, I'd be putting him here again today. Man, what a Dickhead. But I thought it was time to give little Ralphie Reed a Dickheaded shout-out. He's in the news again, as it appears the anti-gambling candidate for Georgia Lieutenant Governor accepted money from one Indian casino interest to fend off another Indian casino interest. But let's face it: even if Ralphie hadn't done that, he's Dickhead-deserving. Because he's friends with Pat Robertson. Because he's linked to Jack Abramoff, the central figure in DeLay's murky ethics. Because he uses his religious beliefs to build a personal fortune. Because his brand of Christianity has taken the Christ right out of it. And because... well, just because. Wow, what a Dickhead.

Of Mets and Men

Since the Mets' 0-5 start, they've won five straight, giving them a better record than the crosstown Yankees. I'll grant you that I'm a cynic where the Mets are concerned, but they've got lengthy track record of raising hopes, dashing hopes, raising, and dashing, not only within a single season, but often within a single game. They don't just ultimately end up the loser, but they behave like winners just long enough for you to believe it could be the case this time. Already this season they've gone from the New Mets to the '62 Mets to the New Life Mets... I swear to god if I didn't love baseball so much, I'd hate it.

So why do I root for the Mets? I mean, really, they're underachiveing overdogs. They've been given every advantage in the world to win (high payroll, major market, big stars), and yet they claw and scrape their way to fourth place in their division. Well, ultimately and perhaps unfortunately, I think I relate to them. I, too, have been given every advantage in this world to succeed (white, straight, male), and yet here I am scraping and clawing my way to a level of success that is certainly akin to fourth place in my division. Maybe I'm an underachiving overdog.

And yet, the passion of Mets' fans is undeniable. They/we care so much. It's a great love story, really, with tears, laughter, struggle, and hope. They're imperfect and frustrating, and we love them anyway. And I guess I relate to that, too. After all, my wife seems to love me.

Howard, Bernie, and HR1440

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

OK, so sometimes I listen to Howard Stern. I acquired a taste in college thanks to a girlfriend who had her clock radio set to him, because he was the only thing that could get her angry enough to get out of bed and turn him off. Meanwhile, I began to think he was funny.

In local politics Howard often supports candidates I can't stand - Giuliani, Pataki, Whitman. But his anti-Bush campaigning during the '04 election was well-documented, passionate, and heartwarming. And whatever you think of him personally or of his motivations, Howard is probably the best free-speech advocate in the US today.

Today I was pleased to hear left-wing independent congressman Bernie Sanders of Vermont on the show, calling to inform listeners of a bill he sponsored, HR1440, which will help keep the FCC's grubby paws off of cable television and satellite radio. Bernie's argument is simple enough: "How good would The Sopranos be if Tony couldn't say the f-word?"

God bless Bernie for publicizing an issue that so many cowards are afraid to touch, and God bless Howard for giving him the platform. Call your congressfolks today and have them support HR1440. They listen to phone calls more than all those petitions the left circulates.

And not only did Bernie show up at the Brattleboro Literary Festival last year (a Hall Farm program), but he enjoyed some cake!

His Career Batting Average May Be .324, But...

There seems to be a strengthening movement to skip the usual lag time and canonize Pope JP II immediately. My understanding of sainthood is that it essentially serves as the Catholicism Hall of Fame. JP could well be qualified (I don't know about his "miracles," but as a recovering Lutheran, that's not my place to judge), but the process is there for a reason. How embarrassing would it be for Catholics worldwide to canonize JP now, only to discover that he set many of his records while on illegal performance-enhancing supplements?

Half of Baseball is 90% Mental

Steinbrenner's hired a mental coach for the Yankees. This always makes me think of that great scene in The Natural, when the nebbishy hypnotist is chanting, "Losing is a disease," finally resulting in Roy Hobbs/Robert Redford walking out, annoyed at the sheer wasting of his time.

Some Yankees appear to agree. "I don't believe in it," [Gary] Sheffield said. "I think it's for people who are weak-minded. I think there are people who need someone there for them. It's not for me." Fortunately for Gary, he doesn't seem to have a problem with using steroids, which are for the weak-bodied. You know, people who need something there for them. They're for him.

Lessons from Kansas - Email Filters

My friend Jeff here in Topeka informed me last night that if you're having a hard time getting through an email filter thanks to your off-color language, Pig Latin usually works. Just so you know. Deliberate misspellings work, too, but his way's much more uckingfay unfay.

Dickhead of the Week - Kansas Edition - Phill Kline

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

As I've mentioned, last week Kansans voted to protect marriage from the gays, who want nothing more than to ruin the institution. It's at the top of their gay agenda, along with recruiting your children and sodomizing your pets. Kansas Attorney General, Phill Kline (who gets three extra Dickhead points for the spelling of his first name) supported the measure wholeheartedly, adding his two cents, "The marriage amendment is an unfortunate, necessary reaction to activist courts." This is tip-of-the-iceberg for Phill "MacCracken" Kline, who in recent months also decided to subpoena doctor's records to find out a) who's had abortions lately (it's still legal, motherfucker) and b) which of the women were underaged. God, his poor wife. He must really let her know her place. Case in point: his official biography on the Kansas Attorney General website features a lovely family photo with wife, daughter, and doggie. And yet somehow, there's nary a mention of any of their names. Nice, Phil(l). If you're gonna use the family for political points, you might consider acknowledging their existence and hinting that you love them. But in fairness to you, Herr Kline, I suppose that's difficult to do when you only think of yourself, eh, cock?

Lessons from Kansas - Art

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

So Lucas, Kansas is a little hotbed of folk art. Who could've guessed in this tiny farming community there'd be interest enough for two major "outsider" art destinations? Granted, my mother and I were the only people on the guestbooks today, but still...

First, the Garden of Eden. It's been fairly well-documented over the years. You can read about it here, but let's just say it's one of the strangest and coolest places I've ever seen. Worth the three-hour drive from Topeka.

The surprise of the day was Grassroots Art Center, a museum full of work by untrained artists from Kansas.

Apparently, the Great Plains in this part of the world don't have much to offer other than big sky, long grass, and a shitload of inspiration to those open to it.

Lessons from Kansas - Historical Sites

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Lecompton was the capital of the pro-slave Kansas territory. While visiting its Constitution Hall, this old lady was telling us about its use over the years. She was a real talker. The bulk of the building was dedicated to the time leading up to Civil War, during which Kansas was admitted as a free state, but there was a small corner of the room dedicated to everything the Hall has served as since. There was some KKK stuff. The old lady told a story about how the KKK protected this woman from a Catholic priest ("I hope you're not Catholic"), who was somehow demanding that she sell off everything she owned and give it to the church. The KKK had a little talk with the priest and stopped that nonsense. "So the KKK protected the town from people that would do us wrong." Uh...

Kansas has a new marketing headline being used by the tourism board. "As big as you think." Last week Kansans voted to "protect marriage" from the gays, and as we were driving through Ottawa, Kansas, on the way to Osawatomie (as in "Osawatomie John Brown"), one house had put up a sign - Kansas: as bigoted as you think. Two enormous women with mullets were working on their lawn. I'm guessing they're "out."

The Old New Mets

I would just like to point out at this point that the "New Mets" are 0-4 so far this season. They're actually proving the "New Mets" moniker to be true, since the team hasn't gotten off to this bad a start since their first three seasons of existence. So, it seems, the "New Mets" are playing the same way as the old "New Mets."

From Topeka to Sunnyside

Yesterday, I was talking to these historians as part of my research, and when I told them I lived in Queens, they were like, "Oh, man, we had some amazing Indian food in Queens." Naturally, I'm thinking they were near Shea Stadium or the Noguchi Museum... What other reason is there for a couple of Topekans to come to Queens. My mom only comes there because I live there. And anyway, Queens is big.

They couldn't remember the name of the place. "India is definitely in the name." Then he described where they were. "It was on Queens Boulevard and we parked underneath the elevated train."

"Empire of India?"

"Yeah, that's it!"

"Dude, that's my Indian restaurant! I go there all the time!"

We were impressed by different parts of the story. Empire of India is pretty good, don't get me wrong, but it's no Jackson Diner or Haveli. But they kept going on and on about the food, and all I could think was that these two Topeka historians had been to Sunnyside. I love Sunnyside, but what the fuck were they doing there?

Trip to the Homestead

I arrived in Topeka this afternoon, and already my mom's car has broken down, I got cornered by an old lady whose daughter lived on Long Island (but moved because "and she's not prejudiced at all" she didn't like the Jews), and the mother of a high school friend announced to a room full of people at an official city function that her daughter had a crush on me for four years. Yes, it looks like this trip is going to be all I dreamed it could be.

April 2009

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

That's the date of the end of the world, according to the mother of the woman pictured here. Anyone who spawned such a face is most certainly reliable with regard to such matters.

Unfortunately, her prediction doesn't get more specific than "April," so we may still need to file our taxes.

Dickhead of the Month - March

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

As if it could have been anyone else, Tom DeLay of Texas wins March's award. Even if TommyGun were to stop his dickheading at this moment, he's still a shoo-in for the Dickhead Hall of Fame. It seems, however, just to be sure, that the dickheading will continue, with both the New York Times and the Washington Post breaking new stories of dickheaded improprieties today. Tom takes his dickheadedness very seriously. He's not only on a different playing field than his competitor dickheads, but he's also apparently playing a completely different dickheaded sport. Go, You Dickheads!

Runs to (and at) the Border

In high school and college, Taco Bell was that place that always sounded like a good idea. Somehow, it was only after eating too many soft tacos that you remembered how crappy it made you feel. Well, if you thought the food made you feel crappy, you should see how the migrant farm workers feel at the Taco Bell suppliers' tomato farms. For years the Coalition of Immokalee Workers in Florida has been organizing a boycott against the fast food company, with support in a few select markets. And Taco Bell kept towing the hard line, "We can't tell independent farmers how to treat their workers." Finally, it seems, the boycott has worked well enough for Taco Bell to pay an extra penny per pound of tomatoes. It may sound like peanuts, but it'll actually double the salaries for many workers. So go eat your Mexi Melts, your Double Decker Tacos, and your Chalupa Supremes, now served with less guilt! But somehow I don't think this news will make a difference in the requisite post-feeding Run to the Bathroom.

This One's for You, Dad

My dad was a Kansas University Jayhawks fan. Because I went to a girly school with no real sports (our women's crew team apparently kicked ass), the Jayhakws were my adopted team for the NCAA tournament each year. It's been a lot of heartbreak. This year, the fellas lost in the first round. Yep. A lot of heartbreak.

For my dad, the heartbreak hit hardest when long-time Kansas coach Roy Williams opted to go back to coach the North Carolina Tar Heels a couple short years ago. It was a betrayal of the kids he recruited, a betrayal of the school, and a betrayal of my father on a personal level.

Roy and his Tar Heels won the NCAA tournament last night, something Roy was unable to accomplish in his many years at Kansas. On behalf of my dad, then, Coach Williams, I say this to you and your Tar Holes, but mostly just to you, dear Roy: screw you. You can give your shout-out to the Kansas boys who called and offered their support of you, but screw you. Seriously. Screw you.

An E.R.A. of Infinity?

Details are sketchy, but it seems that Mets' pitcher Braden Looper is beginning his season with a literally unfathomable earned run average. He gave up three runs in the 9th inning without retiring a batter. So, as far as I can tell, his ERA is infinity. Surely that leads the league.

And it cost the Mets their opener. It's gonna be a long freakin' season.

Dickhead of the Week - Bill Frist

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

From making diagnoses of Terri Shiavo by watching video clips to his support of the claim that AIDS can be spread by tears and sweat, Dr. William Frist, M.D., good senator of Tennessee, has proven that he's one hell of a medical expert. Well, the majority leader is also doing everything he can to fuck the minority in attempting to use the "nuclear option" to force through right-wing extremist judges. This would deny the Democrats from exercising their right to filibuster to block judicial nominees. If I had as little understanding of my job as Frisky Frist clearly has about both medicine and the checks & balances system of the government, well, then, I'd be even less employed than I currently am. Who the hell is this joker?

The Last Word

The Papacy and Britain's Royal Family have a long-standing feud, beginning with the Catholic Church's refusal to allow Henry VIII to divorce and remarry. This left more than a few women beheaded, for which Catholicism has continually refused to accept any responsibility, and the King went ahead and started the church craze called Anglican. Well, our contemporary Royals get yet another papal spit-in-the-eye, a.k.a. the Holy Fuck You, with the scheduling of JP's funeral on the very same day as Prince Charles' marriage to Camilla. Pretending to be the bigger man, Chuck will reschedule his nuptials and attend the Pope's funeral. Look for his fingers to be crossed as he shares his kind reflections about Karol.

The First Bust

Alex Sanchez, centerfielder for the Tampa Bay D-Rays, is the first to fail the steroid testing. Beginning with opening day (although he can probably play while he appeals the decision) and for ten games thereafter, he's suspended. His excuses are pretty bad, though, ranging from "I take all sorts of stuff, just not steroids" to "But I've only hit four home runs in my career," which almost leads me to believe that he's telling the truth. Ah, it's gonna be a long season.

JP Deux

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

It's just that it happened so suddenly. I mean, boy, it really makes you think.

I've been saying that to everyone I've seen for about sixteen hours, but now that it's in writing, I'll let it go.

I tend not to care much for religious leaders. I think it began with "Smilin' Gene the Preachin' Machine" in Topeka, our local Southern Baptist televangelist. He was just so smarmy. And that smarminess seems to multiply based on the size of one's "flock." Smilin' Gene was a joke next to Bakker and Swaggert, who had nothing on Robertson and Fallwell. And of course, on the left we're graced with Reverends Al and Jesse, both of whom say things I agree with relative regularity, only to get hooked on their crazy pills again shortly thereafter.

But Pope John Paul II was a rock. Yes, I frequently disagreed with his positions on certain issues (condoms not helping to stop AIDS was probably a low point, and his silence on the priest abuse in the States was more than a disappointment), but you can't say that there was a lack of consistency or a modicum of hypocrisy. His staunch positions against the death penalty and the Iraq War warmed my heart and probably had more influence worldwide than we know.

Now if we could just get the next pope to recognize that using condoms really does make a difference and that keeping abortion safe and legal is actually a life-saving measure, I might just become a Catholic.

But in the meantime, to JP, who was pretty much the pope of my lifetime (I sure can't remember any others), I say this: the world would indeed be a better place if more religious leaders were like you. Thanks, mister.

A Beautiful Day Ruined

Back in early 2001, when I had, like, a real job working for a marketing company that thought way too much of itself, the New York office was treated to a presentation of the company's new mission. The new mission itself is irrelevant, not because I (like everyone in the New York office) was cynical and jaded throughout what was supposed to be some kind of corporate revolution, but because ultimately the jackasses had to close our offices a few months later.

But really, the worst part of this self-important declaration in the bullshit world of promotional marketing was that U2's "A Beautiful Day" was playing on a loop throughout. It may not be the best U2 song of all time, but I challenge anyone to find a single song that can survive three consecutive hours of repeat play without being detested.

So now, the New Labour party is embracing "A Beautiful Day" for its upcoming election campaign. The in-depth analysis of poor song usage for political purposes is pretty interesting, but when the writer gets to what he calls "the one undeniable masterstroke" of Bill Clinton's use of Fleetwood Mac's "Don't Stop" in 1992, he fails to mention that, even those of us who love the "Rumors" album and couldn't have been more excited to put an end to 12-straight years of Republican rule of the White House, when we hear the song today, we skip to the next track, change the radio dial, or dash screaming out of whatever retail outlet we're in.

Maybe I'm a Morbid Bastard, But...

...I've been hitting the refresh button on my browser all day, waiting for the moment the New York Times finally reports that the pope is dead. I predict, in writing, that he's gonna hang on until 2007. You heard it here first.

While We Wait for the Pope to Pass...

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Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

...A touch of frivolity. The New York Times was kind enough this morning to recognize the 20th anniversary of one of my favorite April Fools' Day jokes ever. Sports Illustrated, as reported by genius George Plimpton, announced that Sidd Finch, mythical gangly phenom with oversized ears and feet, was about to join the Mets, with his outrageous 168-mph fastball. My dad and I both fell for it, as did many, many others, including baseball GMs, players, and (ultimately irate) SI readers. For my money, it's right up there with a few choice highlights from "The Daily Show" as my pick for Best Fake Journalism Ever.