Musa the Warrior

I believe that Musa the Warrior is the first Korean movie I've seen.

A group of Korean soldiers have to make their way through dangerous Northern China, catching hell from Chinese armies and Mongol warriors. They pick up a Chinese princess along the way. I'm a big fan of the Mongols, so that part made me happy. Actors you'll recognize: Zhang Ziyi.

I could have lost some in translation, but I got the feeling that this was a movie about courage and cowardice and sacrifice and violence and obstinance, and maybe a few other things thrown in as well. The violence isn't extremely bloody, but it's not bloodless, either. You get stabbed, and blood comes gushing out. It has some really interesting elements, but the one I took most notice of was the attention to detail when dealing with battle tactics. The scene where Korean footsoldiers take on Mongols on horseback in the forest was a darn good one.

One caveat: The Netflix slip says this movie is 2 hours and five minutes long. But I'd swear it seemed like it was pushing three.

I also got to watch Harold and Maude, which I hadn't seen in quite a while. Very funny and enjoyable, and you can be introspective about it if you want. I won't talk about it, because there's really no way to describe Harold and Maude.

Do you like yellow?

Because if you do, then today's Netherlands-Portugal game was made for you. The ref handed out 16 yellow cards and four players got sent off, leaving 9 a side at the end. Let's talk about one in particular, the second one given to Deco. I like Deco. He's fun to watch. He scored a great goal during the group round. He looks like a nice guy. But the act he committed to get his second yellow gets on my nerves so bad I wish he'd also been punched in the face.

He got called for a foul. Instead of heading back on defense, he picks up the ball and starts to carry it off in a time-wasting ploy. This happens rather often, so it was pretty surprising that he got carded for it. But I hate this garbage, so it made me happy. One of the Dutch players grabbed him when he had the ball and basically threw him to the ground. "What about that guy?" the announcers asked. "Give him a medal" I say.

World Cup

This Thursday, the USA will play Ghana in a first-round matchup between two teams that really ought to win if they want to advance. The US need to beat Ghana and hope for Italy to beat Czech Republic. If the confidence the Americans gained from getting a draw with Italy carries over, then we've got a pretty good shot. Now let's get to the important stuff. The favorites Brazil have won their first two matches, though they've looked very vulnerable along the way. As I mentioned here, Brazil have a player boringly named "Fred" in their lineup. I was listening to the radio on Sunday and heard Fred score a goal against Australia. Indeed, beware the dreadful footballing might of FRED. Brazil have now won nine straight World Cup games, which is really remarkable. They won all seven four years ago and two so far this year. When you consider that two teams of greatly unequal talent and/or skill often play to a tie, the fact that they've been able to keep winning in regulation against this level of competition is really impressive. Argentina used a 6-0 beatdown over Serbia & Montenegro to claim the label of most impressive squad so far. With a 3-1 comeback over Tunisia, Spain look like #2. The biggest surprise so far could be Ecuador, who sits atop their group with Germany. They've each scored five, but the Germans have allowed two.

The best part about FIFA's website that I've found is the Flickr Gallery. Fans can email their photos in to the site and give links to more that they've taken at the World Cup. My favorite so far is here.

Back at Last

Deadwood came back for its third season tonight, and not a minute too soon. Where Sopranos is the master of incorporating the small banalities of everyday life into the overall scope of a mob drama, Deadwood is equally adept at asking great philosophical questions about life, the universe, and everything.

"Instead of running for office and tending bar, why don't you tend bar and let people punch you in the face?"

Running up to the season premiere, they showed reruns from the end of last year, and I watched the funeral episode. The ladies of negotiable affection who work at the Gem saloon attended, and were all in tears at the tragic death of young William. Which got me to thinking: "Some of the time, they're prostitutes who sell their bodies for cash, and some of the time, they're just young girls who laugh and fear and love and ache and everything else." In another episode last season, one of Cy Tolliver's girls tells him that she prays for him every night.

Tonight, Joanie Stubbs (a prostitute and aspiring madam herself) asks the Lord who she is. She rents a room for a few hours a day and converses with the Almighty. It's tempting to ask ourselves how such a terrible sinner has the nerve to talk to God. Then I remember a passage I read in a book about four writers: Thomas Merton, Dorothy Day, Walker Percy, and Flannery O'Connor. I forget which figure it was about (I think it was Dorothy Day), but there was a passage about how the troubled sinner is closer to God than the saint. They experience struggle and anguish and tribulation, and dealing with all of this exposes them more to the true Christian life than the saint who never doubts and always does everything right. I love that stuff.

And just to review, only one person got killed and there was no sex on screen. I didn't count the number of f-bombs, but you can probably visit this site, which keeps a running tally. A hearty welcome back to Bullock, the angriest man on TV.

A film, a movie, and a flick

Over the weekend I watched one of each. Day of the Jackal, a very good film about a plot to assassinate French president Charled de Gaulle. French terrorists/anarchists/revolutionaries (take your pick) are upset with de Gaulle for giving Algeria independence. So they hire an accomplished assassin with the codename "The Jackal" to eliminate him. The film does a good job of illustrating what the killer goes through to prepare for the hit, and what the police go through to try and stop him.

The movie was X-Men III. Like the mutants, saw the first two, liked this one. That's really all I can say. Except that "The Jackal" sounds like a good name for a mutant. And that I was surprised to see Jubilee listed in the credits, since I tend to regard her as the most useless mutant ever. I guess there are those more educated in the field who could prove me wrong.

The flick was Stick It. My cousin and I went to see it at Kingstowne in Alexandria. I'd never been down there before. They have a Popeyes next door to an ABC store right across from the theater. You can buy liquor and chicken and then go see a movie and enjoy all three. That's a good way to go. Stick It was better than I thought it would be. It was fun and entertaining, and well-done for what it is. (I think that's an overlooked feature when evaluating movies. Not everything has to be high drama to be a good movie). Stephen Hunter from the Post called it a "nubile-o-rama", which is accurate. You've got a bunch of very, very fit girls in leotards erforming outstanding athletic feats. But it's also funny, sometimes emotional, and it sometimes makes you go "Ooh, that's gotta hurt." I liked it. But if you're a guy, don't go see it without a girl. You'll just end up looking creepy.

(speaking of girls performing outstanding feats, the last three standing in the National Spelling Bee are all girls)

Tremble before the awesome footballing power of...FRED?

The story goes that when soccer was first becoming popular in Brazil, it was considering a low-class sport, only for the riff-raff to take part in. So when the papers reported on the results of games, the players would identify themselves with aliases so people wouldn't know who they were. The trend continued after the sport became respectable. Brazil has since turned into the premier soccer nation on the planet, winning five World Cups and spawning great player after great player.

The names these players have taken have often been flashy and catchy, and are usually just one name. We've been graced with Pele, Garrincha, Jairzinho, Zico, Romario, Socrates, Bebeto, Dunga, Leonidas, Tostao, and Zizinho. The current World Cup squad features names such as Cafu, Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, Roberto Carlos, Adriano, Ze Roberto, Cicinho, Gilberto, and......FRED? How can they let a guy with such a boring name onto the most celebrated squad in the world? Brazilian soccer names are supposed to have pizzazz and set off fireworks in your brain. Fred?

This year's Brazilian team gives us some seriously entertaining players. The most famous are Ronaldo (speed dribbling and quick striking), Ronaldinho (fancy dribbling 1-on-1, 1-on 2, 1-on-3, 1-on-4, etc. and precision passing), Adriano (combining great ball skills with serious power), Roberto Carlos (making runs up the left side and blasting free kicks from who knows how far out), and a personal favorite of mine, Cafu. He's a right fullback trapped in a forward's body, game, personality, you name it. One of the great sights from the last two World Cups is Cafu streaking up the right sideline, taking a long cross right out of the air and taming it with his feet. Should Brazil make the finals, Cafu would have seen the field in four straight final matches.

After all that, I guess I should say something about the USA. I hope we win. Nothing would tick off the rest of the world more than the United States wining the biggest sporting event there is. Especially since they like to take solace in the fact that it's something (often the only thing) they do better than us. We don't have a "Fred", but we do have a DaMarcus and an Oguchi. So there.

Idol Television

I'm sure I've mentioned before that nothing makes me laugh the way American Idol does. It's an extremely well-constructed show that somehow got more popular in its fifth year. It's multifaceted, with the comedy of bad singers to start out with, the emotional drama (which I don't watch) of Hollywood tryouts and interpersonal conflict as contestants must team up and work together, and the tension and "what will happen next?" element of the voting and elimination rounds. You can jump on and off as you wish and not miss anything vital.

So it was with great glee that I watched the 2-hour results show last night. I tried to vote for Taylor Tuesday night but the lines were busy. Based on his performance, just about everybody figured him to win, so I wasn't too upset. The only question was what they would do to lead up to what seemed to be a foregone conclusion. Well, they came up with what I think was the best episode of the year. You can read Lisa de Moraes's column about it here.

Start off with Taylor and the McPheever singing with Carrie Underwood. Good. Katherine singing with Meatloaf: not the greatest combo, but bizarre enough to capture one's attention. The American Idol Awards were a great idea, but I wish the loony they gave Best Male Vocal to had been hit by a bus before he made it to the Kodak Theater.

Elliott's mom winning Best Family Moment was nice, and it was too bad that Elliott had to get big-timed by Mary J. Blige during their duet. She tried to sing right over him at every turn, instead of singing with him. And at the end, the belted out a note and stalked off the stage, leaving him in her dust. Real classy there, Bligey. (though I will admit she's probably good to see in concert)

Solo by Underwood, though my cousin said she'd have preferred a different song.

The ladies' sextet performance was nice, and it was especially pleasing to see Mandisa on stage again. I hope she does well. Girl can sing and perform as well as anybody in the competition, maybe better. And I'm pretty sure you must have been born without a soul if you don't like her.

Puck N Pickler was hilarious. Kellie Pickler just makes me so happy. If she's playing dumb, then she deserves more Oscar nominations than Meryl Streep. If she really is that dumb, then she deserves a dozen guardian angels to watch over her. Spitting escargot into her napkin and running away from live lobsters is great comedy. Wolfgang Puck made for a great straight man, too.

The Randy Jackson Award for Public Speaking went to foul-mouthed trashbag Rhonetta Johnson. This could prompt a lot of people to say they're being too mean. These people can't defend themselves against the titan that is AI. So why should they pick on them? Answer: for our entertainment, of course. And Rhonetta was a thoroughly unlikable character, so we sort of feel like she had it coming. The "Rhonetta" they panned to to receive her award may not have been the real one, as far as I can tell. I could be wrong.

I can't describe the Toni Braxton/Taylor Hicks any better than de Moraes, so I won't try:

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"Braxton is singing -- such as it is -- phonetically and therefore doesn't realize that this is a song about a little child who needs a helping hand because he's living in the ghetto. Instead, she mistakes it for a song about a ho and her pimp, as played by Braxton and Taylor, on whom she tries to perform a standing lap dance, winning her the Golden Idol Award for Most Inappropriate Performance During an "Idol" Finale."

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"In the Ghetto" is a fantastic and moving song, and I don't think Braxton is up to it. Great legs, pretty girl. But spiritual she ain't, at least not when she's singing. I couldn't understand her anyway.

The highlight of the night for me was the American Idol Award for Best Impersonation. It went to the guy who auditioned dressed and styled as Clay Aiken. He stunk, and he said he was nervous and had to pee. So they told him to go to the bathroom and come back. He still stunk. So it was quite surprising when Seacrest asked him if he would sing for them. He starts in on "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me", when the stage opens up behind him, and Clay Aiken, the Dorky White Boy himself, walks out. He sneaks up on the guy and starts to sing, rendering the impostor speechless and looking like he was about to cry and wet his pants. As Clay keeps on singing--well, of course--Seacrest asks the kid if he's okay. I think he was in love, to be honest. That's good television, boys and girls.

So there you go. Congratulations to Soul Patrol for winning. Congratulations to the McPheever for making the finals and discovering that people like gazing upon huge tracts of land. And congratulations to Fox for taking the freight train that is American Idol and keeping it running at full speed. Well done all around.

That's the point, Congresswoman

"Eliminating an earmark for $500,000 to fund a program to combat drug-use locally only means that $500,000 will be funded and some bureaucrat in a federal agency will use it as he decides, rather than as the elected representative decides."

A couple of weeks ago, Kay Granger sent out a press release defending her overseas travel to Malta, Greece, Kosovo, and wherever the IAEA is located. Some of it made sense. But she couldn't escape the fact that half the trips still seemed completely unnecessary, or the recently reported theory that the soldiers abroad don't really give a rat's fat fart when MoCs come to visit. I'm waiting for her to start talking about gas prices and totally ignore the fact that all the fuel she spent globetrotting was a big waste.

The beginning quote is from a recent press release about the earmarking process. And yes, she's okay making points about what earmarks are and where they come from. However, it would be nice if she could explain why that 500 grand isn't taken out of the overall budget. And referring to the person in the federal agency as "some bureaucrat" is rather insulting. Why couldn't the bureaucrat turn it around and say "It's better for someone who actually works with these issues on a daily basis for a living to make the decision how the money gets spent than some fat-cat Congresswoman who has to please a horde of special interests and fickle voters every two years."

The argument "Well, if we don't earmark it, someone else will just spend it anyway" isn't the strongest one to take a stand with.

American Graffiti

A long time ago, in a screenplay far, far away, George Lucas made a movie that wasn't called "Star Wars". And yet, it was still good enough to make the AFI list at #77. American Graffiti comes to us from 1973, the same year that brought us The Sting, The Exorcist, and another movie currently in my Netflix queue, Day of the Jackal.

Actors you'll know: Richard Dreyfuss, Ron Howard, Harrison Ford, Cindy Williams (assuming you ever saw "Laverne and Shirley")

Actors you may recognize but not know: Charles Martin Smith, Bo Hopkins, Wolfman Jack (actually, it's sort of the other way around with Wolfman). My favorite listing in the credits is for Johnny Weissmuller, Jr. His father was an Olympic swimmer and went on to star as Tarzan in a dozen movies and Jungle Jim in 15 more.

For about the first 30 minutes, I couldn't figure out what the fuss was about. Not really the kind of movie I enjoy, the teen coming-of-age drama type thing. Then it started to grow on me. The scenes are well-constructed. It manages to get funnier and more meaningful as it goes along. I mostly enjoyed the misadventures of Terry "The Toad" and the girl he said looks like Connie Stevens. Milner having to hang around with the bratty Carol was good, too.

I'd give it a recommendation, but mostly to see the main characters interacting with the lesser ones. The main storylines don't really do it for me.

Up next: Laugh In, and I can't tell you how excited I am.

Platoon

Platoon comes in at #83 on the AFI list. Made in 1986, the same year that gave us Children of a Lesser God, Aliens, and The Color of Money.

Actors you'll recognize: Tom Berenger, Willem Defoe, Charlie Sheen, Forest Whitaker, Kevin Dillon, Johnny Depp.

Actors you may recognize but not know: Keith David, Oliver Stone (cameo).

It's very well-acted, well-written, and well-made through and through. It's also really depressing. I don't see myself tuning in again anytime soon. Charlie Sheen is good, though it's tough to watch him now 20 years later and not think about the celebrity instead of the actor. Berenger and Defoe are pretty good, and it makes me wonder what else he's done really well in that I'm missing. "Entourage" fans will be happy to see Kevin Dillon, who plays a thoroughly unlikable Bunny in the movie. Now he's playing a slacker brother on HBO.

I'd recommend it if you're into Vietnam movies or if you're an Oliver Stone or anti-war fan. Other than that, you just have to like to be depressed.

Ooh! Ooh! Pick me! Pick me!

According to the Patron Saints Index, there is no Saint Reggie. There's a Regina, and a few from Reggio, but no Reggie. So it might be a bit of a stretch to expect Reggie Bush to be the Savior of New Orleans, much less the savior of the Saints. But that hasn't stopped Saints fans from gushing about our new running back. When the Texans selected Mario Williams at #1, it opened the door for a lousy team to get an electrifying player on the field, and an energizing figure off it. Jersey sales are going fast, even though they don't know what number he'll wear. Season ticket sales are doing well, and Bush is getting a standing ovation wherever he goes.



I would have understood if the Saints had traded down for more picks. A 3-13 team has lots of holes, and probably needs more than one guy to turn things around. So going for more picks would have been understandable. But it wouldn't have been exciting. It makes me want to watch every game. I'd even like to go to the first home game on Monday night in Week 3. The Saints offense next year could feature some pretty talented skill players, and let's hope that they've got some guys who can block and/or tackle.

A Voice Crying in the Wilderness

A line in Isaiah referring to John the Baptist. These days it's a line from the media referring to Senator Tom Coburn from Oklahoma. Coburn was last seen (or likely first seen, by most people) on TV doing a crossword puzzle in the John Roberts confirmation hearings.

Well, he can do all the crosswords he wants as long as he keeps doing what he's doing now. He invoked some obscure procedural rule that requires a yes or no vote on each of 19 appropriations earmarks. This means that each Senator who inserted the earmark has to get up and defend it, which will undoubtedly make some of them look stupid. Today Coburn won a small victory by getting a seafood promotion program removed. Kudos for at least trying to hold people accountable for runaway spending.

The Futurama episode "Hell is Other Robots" is on right now, one of my favorites. It's up there with "Amazon Women in the Mood" and "The Devil's Hands Are Idle Playthings". Not surprisingly, the first and third feature the Robot Devil, who's probably my favorite ancillary character on the show. Voiced by Dan Castellaneta, the same guy who does Homer Simpson, he's got style and personality out the wazoo. If we could combine the tenacity and devil-may-care attitude of Coburn and the evil cunning and devil-doesn't-care attitude of Robot Devil, we may actually get things done around here.

Alle Menschen Werden Bruder

A line from Beethoven's Ninth Symphony version of Schiller's An die Freude, known in English as the Ode to Joy. "All men become brothers." But it's the Ode to Joy part that's important. That's what I felt when I logged on to espn.com today and saw that TMQ was back on Page 2. This means that espn is once again home to both the best online baseball column (Jayson Stark's Useless Info) and the best online football column (Tuesday Morning Quarterback, by Gregg Easterbrook. TMQ opens up strong, with over 8,200 words in today's column.

Plus, there was a Rob Neyer baseball chat to be had, and the firejoemorgan blog picked apart a chat with the Hall of Famer. I great online sports day. I really like Rob Neyer because he's smart and unemotional in his analysis, but can be witty and/or spiky when he wants to. I don't know if "spiky" is a correct word to use here, but I like it anyway. Consider this Q&A from 4/18 between Rob and emailer Chris:
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Chris (Oxford, UK): You wrote in your column that there's no way that Wily Mo's offense can ever make up for his shoddy defense. For years now, the Red Sox have put up with Manny Ramirez's glove in left - if Wily Mo develops into a serious offensive threat (and he's still young), could the same not be true of him?

Rob Neyer: One: Pena's a lot, lot worse than Ramirez. Two: It's a lot easier to play left field in Fenway than center or right. Three: You don't mind one butcher so much, but two is too many. And no (answering a question somebody e-mailed yesterday), we should not expect Pena to get any better. He was terrible with the Reds, he's terrible now, and he'll probably always be terrible.
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Rob was even kind enough to give some ideas on how my beloved Cubs could go about trying to replace Derrek Lee in the lineup after the 6 foot, 7 inch 1B got his wrist broken by a player nine inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter than he is, Rafael Furcal. I shoudl also add that I've twice emailed him through his website, and he's answered each time. Very high on Rob Neyer.

This fact should tell you how great the reunion weekend was for me: I had a blast and didn't talk sports for any significant period of time whatsover. That don't happen too often, boys and girls.

Ah, so THAT'S who I am!

Has it really been since the 9th that I've written? Mea culpa.

As you of course know, I am a proud graduate of the Louisiana Scholars' College at Northwestern State University, located in my hometown of Natchitoches, LA. I've been back to visit several times since graduation, but none in probably the last two or three years. So it was with great anticipation that I looked forward to the Scholars' College alumni reunion that was held over the weekend. For probably over a year we'd been working on putting it together. And when I say 'we' I mean for the most part 'people other than me'. I'm not a real organization type person, and I don't like working with others. So how I ended up on the reunion committee is a bit of a mystery. The grunt work was done by other members of the committee and a woman named Janay Matt, the Assistant Director for Alumni Affairs. They rock.

However, I will admit to making one simple yet somewhat important contribution: I picked the date. Yeah, yeah, we all voted on it, but my suggesting was the one we picked. I figured March was too close to spring break commitments, and May was too close to finals. Early April is when everyone is worried about their taxes. So I looked at the average weather in Natchitoches for April 22-23, and it looked okay. Little did I know that the good Lord would bless us with an absolutely gorgeous weekend. It could not have been more pleasant. Yay, me.

I got into town Friday afternoon, and we had a happy hour at the Landing that evening. Let me make it clear that I would have been content with a couple dozen alumni showing up to chat a little. So I was really happy when I did a head count and got over sixty, and it was probably closer to seventy for the whole evening. Afterwards I went with some friends to a B&B they were staying at, which happens to be owned by my cousin and his wife.

Saturday morning was a tour of campus and downtown Natchitoches. When people heard I was going, they asked, "Why the hell are you going?" Mostly so they would ask the question, to be honest. I thought it was funny. And I like hearing people talk about the town and campus, so it was a win all around for me. We went to a new living community for students, and walked into a really nice lounge area. All the older alums first words: "Oh this is just wrong!" We also went by Morrison Hall, the current home of Scholars' classes that has been recently remodeled. It looks good. In the thesis room, you can see my awful piece of garbage, "One could cry if it were not such a farce": Adolf Hitler as a Military Commander (allow me to interrupt right now and say that Neifi Perez is the most useless hitter the Cubs have ever had. Period. He doesn't hit for power. He doesn't get on base. He doesn't steal bases. He's a human out machine, and Dusty Baker loves him. JHTDC. I can't write that out on this site, but man).

After the tour was the picnic, held under purple tents and a beautiful blue sky. Burgers, hot doges, chips, brownies, cokes. Saw some students and profs. Got a lot of sun. I'd say maybe close to 100 people there, but I could be wrong. That night was a dinner/dance at the Student Union ballroom. Spaghetti, rolls, cookies, cheese, and maybe a drink or two. I sat with a couple of Natchitoches folks (Jennifer Walsh, Andrea Elmore & husband), Dr. Cochran, and Robin and Rick Morgan, who started with me in 95. Worked my way around the room meeting and greeting. Home by midnight.

So the psychiatrist in you may be asking, "Okay, that's what you did. But how does this make you feel?" And for once I'll say "You know, that's not a bad question." It made me feel great. Fantastic. Wonderful. I was so happy. Friday night I thought that it was so great that this many people thought Natchitoches was worth coming back to. And I saw people from classes before and after me that I'd been friends with. They told me I looked exactly the same. We talked about life, the universe, and everything. Told stories about great things we'd been through at LSC. One guy said that he wanted to talk to the person who went up to a group of students reading the Bible and said, "Hey, I read that. It's pretty good. The guy dies, but he comes back in the end." Ahem. C'est moi. I'm sure I stole it from someone else, but still.

I went to class with these people, and in some cases worked with them. I argued with them a thousand times on scores of subjects, ranging from war to love to religion to feminism to poverty to pretty much INSERT SUBJECT HERE. And I'd be lying through my teeth if I said I didn't win a lot and hold my own the rest of the time. And it was being around these people again that made me think the words in this entry's title. "Ah, so THAT'S who I am!"

Now and then I'll tell people in the DC area, "I wish you could have known me back when I was nice." I know they don't really understand. They think I'm a nice and smart guy now. But they have no idea. I spent my senior year in high school and four years at LSC turning myself into a people person. But here, both through lack of opportunity or lack of effort on my part, I've become much less than what I used to be. For a while at C&A, I was able to hang on to my LSC persona. But not since. I'm a lot meaner and nastier. I curse a lot. Few people at LSC ever saw me be nasty, and none of them ever heard me curse (because I didn't).

So it is quite fitting that it would be my old school that taught me my lesson. I'd been asking myself what I need to be holding on to, and what I needed to let go. Being around my people showed me the answer. Wish me luck.

Excellence

A guy called me the other night wanting to ask me some survey questions. I usually say no to surveys. Telemarketers get to introduce themselves before I put the phone next to the TV and turn up the volume. But surveys is usually a no. But this guy, John Somethingorother, who sounded like he was calling from India, wanted to talk to me about TV. Now that I can do.

I learned that I watch a full program during prime time three nights a week. There were a couple other things, but that was the big thing. I figure it's because of the sports and movies I rent. But that and the fact that the Sopranos is on makes me want to talk TV.

Almost by default, my favorite show is the Simpsons. Sustained exellence (or at least "pretty darn goodness") since 1989 is one of the great feats in TV lore. Sopranos, Deadwood, and Bones are also on the list. And I've said before that nothing makes me laugh like American Idol. But Sopranos does the little things like nobody else. The way of using the mundane to illustrate and offset the mob and crime environment is fantastic. The all-time example is a group of mob wives renting a movie, and the first thing that pops up on the screen is the FBI warning against doing anything illegal. We're constantly being given scenes of everyday life that wouldn't seem funny or outrageous or extraordinary if it weren't a Jersey mob guy saying it. Exchange from tonight's wedding scene:

C: "Allegra (the bride's name). Isn't that a cold medicine?"
P: "It means 'happiness' in Italian."
C: "What the f---'s that got to do with cold medicine?"

It's a masterful show carried out by great people up and down the line. I always sort of chuckled/grumbled whenever West Wing won an Emmy over Sopranos. I never watched WW, so I can't really judge. But the idea that it was better than the HBO mob show seemed ludicrous.

Deadwood deals with a lot of different issues in a completely different environment and manner, but the end result as far as quality is close, and occasionally equal (in my humble opinion). Many Sopranos characters are caricatures with issues. Many Deadwood characters are caricatures whose issues have issues. The craziest person in Jersey is Mary Poppins compared to the sanest in South Dakota. Add the floral and eloquent dialogue laced with ultra-vile profanity (they make cussing smell like sweet perfume), and you've got something special. Not necessarily for everybody, but special.

Don't Care About Fair

When word began spreading that Major League Baseball was going to investigate Barry Bonds for steroid use, a great cry went up across the sports commentary landscape. "That's not fair!" they said. "You can't investigate Barry Bonds without also investigating everybody else. Singling out Bonds is a farce. You're assuming he's guilty before you've gathered any proof. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?"

Do I think MLB should investigate across the board? Yes (and that's what they're doing, by the way). Do I care if they single out Bonds? NO. They could go after him and only him, and that would be fine by me. Barry Bonds hasn't given a damn about being fair himself. I don't see why MLB should treat him any better than he's treated other people or the game of baseball. If Bud Selig had come out and said, "We're investigating Bonds and only Bonds, and we're doing it because he's on the verge of breaking the most important record in all of sports." I'd say "Good for you."

I've also heard some of the argument, "He wasn't cheating. The stuff he was using may have been illegal, but it wasn't against the rules of baseball at the time." Oh really? What if the Cubs kidnap Albert Pujols's wife and tell him to strike out every time if he ever wants to see her again? I don't think the rules of baseball mention kidnapping, but wouldn't we all call that "cheating"? One party would be committing a crime in order to gain competitive advantage over another. Sounds like cheating to me, boys and girls.

S.O.A.P.

Sometime in mid-August, movie theaters across America will open their doors, dim their lights, and start showing a movie called Snakes on a Plane. Which brings to mind three very important questions:

1) How the hell does somebody come up with something like this?
2) What kind of movie exec approves funding for something like this?
and
3) How the hell did they get Samuel L. Jackson to be in it?
(I'd like to add 4: Why the hell didn't I think of something like this first?)

The premise is that there's a plane, it's in the air, and snakes get loose. Insert Samuel L. Jackson, and much mayhem ensues. It all sounds pretty stupid so far. But wait, there's more! Some people got wind of the absurdity and started to talk about it. And write each other about it. And mention that the stupid title was, though stupid, actually kinda cool as well. And the more they talked, the more appealing the movie became. Studio execs were so pleased that they actually reshot some of the scenes, and added dialogue that the fans wanted in the movie. ("I want these mother---- snakes off the mother------ plane!")

You can read the CNN article here and visit the "Snakes on a Blog" site here. Be sure to check out the 'auditions' and the Subatomic Warp audio trailer.

Gee eee ay yoo ecks

GEAUX TIGERS

On Thursday night, the Mighty Tigers of LSU toppled Duke, the Great Satan. I was very happy. I still am. You would figure that with a week to prepare, Duke would be ready for LSU's scheme, tendency, and coaching strategy. And maybe they were. What they weren't ready for was LSU's players. They played tougher, harder, smarter, and looked more composed than Duke down the stretch. That rarely happens in a big game.

For three years or so, you could argue that J.J. Redick has been the most hated player in college basketball. He embodied (to some) everything about what they hate about Duke basketball. White, tough, smart, and all his shots seemed to go in. He ended his career scoring more points than anyone in ACC history and more three-point shots in NCAA history.

I don't say this to praise him, but to illustrate the greatness of the accomplishment of LSU's defense. Redick scored a season-low eleven points on 3-18 shooting. Garrett Temple was in his shirt all night long. Whenever he used a pick, they trapped him hard with two guys. Whenever he came off a screen, he had a hand in his face. Whenever he managed to get past the initial defender and went to the basket, he got bumped and banged, and LSU's shot-blockers were there to meet him. You could see frustration all over his face and in his body language. When he was taken out of the game with a few seconds to go, he was crying. Tears courtesy of LSU.

Two days later LSU followed it up with another great win over Texas. More great defense, holding the opposition's two best players--possible lottery pick LaMarcus Aldridge and Big 12 Player of the Year P.J. Tucker--to a combined 14 points on 6-25 shooting. Down early, came back, took the lead. Texas tied it off a scramble play in the last half minute or so, and into OT we go.

It couldn't have started better for LSU, as they scored the first seven points, with three coming on a dead-on three by Glen Davis. It was down to five at a point, but that was as close as Texas would get. And whaddya know? LSU is in the Final Four for the first time in twenty years. They play UCLA next Saturday, a school that's only got eleven titles or so. No problem.

A lot of attention has (deservedly) been paid to LSU's frontcourt. The 310-pound, ballerina-footed mammoth that is Glen Davis. Tyrus Thomas, who can jump out of the building (these two combined for 47 points and 22 rebounds on 21-33 shooting). And Tasmin Mitchell, who can do a little bit of everything on both ends of the court to help you win. The prevailing wisdom over the last several years has been that college basketball is a guard's game. Big men worth anything leave early for the NBA, if they go to college at all. Playmaking guards are the order of the day.

LSU supposedly does it backwards. Dominating big men and serviceable guards. Total domination of the paint makes up for weaknesses elsewhere. I think this shortchanges Darrel Mitchell and Garret Temple, though they're not exactly Billups and Hamilton. They play great defense on the ball, have hit some big shots, and have done really well in late-game situations. But there's certainly no doubt that LSU's strength up front is what's carried them this far, and will continue to do so should they keep winning.

Link, link, and link

I've really got nothing to say, but I would like to direct your attention to a few links.

Link #1: A story in USA Today about the creators of South Park taking on Scientology. As you might have heard, South Park ran an episode poking fun at Scientology and Tom Cruise. Isaac Hayes quit the show in protest, citing "bigotry" as one of the reasons, though as the creators pointed out, Hayes didn't have trouble when they made fun of everybody else's religion.
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"So, Scientology, you may have won THIS battle, but the million-year war for earth has just begun!" the South Park creators said in a statement Friday in Daily Variety. "Temporarily anozinizing our episode will NOT stop us from keeping Thetans forever trapped in your pitiful man-bodies... You have obsructed us for now, but your feeble bid to save humanity will fail!"
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Link #2: If you think making fun of Scientology is for you, then so is this site, with lots of kooky videos. My favorite, of course, is the Dark Side Lightning one.

QUICK NOTE: While I think that all this stuff is very, very funny, keep in mind that you're reading the words of a guy who believes in an invisible man who lives in the sky who has been around forever, is omniscient, omipotent, and omnibenevolent, and still lets bad things happen to me. Once a week I gather with other people who believe the same thing and eat the flesh and blood of His son, who has literally been to Hell and back. And since I'm Catholic, that's just the tip of the iceberg, boys and girls.

Link #3: If you're a fan of a) sabermetrics, b) savage writing, or c) bashing Joe Morgan, then the Fire Joe Morgan Blog is definitely for you. The site started as a way for a group of frustrated fans to vent about the things he said they thought were stupid. It's evolved into a site where they trash all the stupid sportswriting and analysis about (mostly) baseball that they can find. If you haven't read Moneyball, then some of their stats and arguments won't mean much. I've read it, and still have questions about some of their stuff. I recommend the book, by the way.

I used to really like Joe Morgan. Then I started paying attention. My dad always said he talked too much. I've started to notice that he contradicts himself, and then he contradicts what's happening on the field. He'll explain what just happened according to why he thinks it should have happened, instead of according to reality. And if you dare--dare--question his unquestioned knowledge of the game, then you're dead to him. As a matter of fact, you probably never existed. The FJM blog is great.

BONUS LINKS SECTION: Even if you've read it a hundred times before, it's always worth checking out the Darthside blog. One of the best fan fiction works I've ever seen.

And there's also a great online art/experiment thingy called Postsecret. People send in anonymous confessions on postcards, and some of them get posted on the site. A few are pretty funny, but many are really serious and depressing. It says something about the site that there's a link and number for the suicide hotline. But it's definitely worth checking out.

Big Baby vs. The Great Satan

Earlier this evening, the LSU Tigers beat Texas A&M thanks to a three point shot by Darrel Mitchell with less than four seconds left in the game. Was this a pretty game? No. But I resist the temptation to call it ugly. A&M has a way of disrupting the other team's rhythm with pressure defense and tough play. This was a great game to watch if you like blocked shots, hustle plays, and low scores.

I didn't see LSU play a game on TV until South Carolina a couple of weeks ago. Due to injury, they were without SEC Freshman of the Year Tyrus Thomas, a shot-blocking and rebounding machine. They gutted out a win. Thomas didn't play again until the first-round NCAA game against Iona. Today's game was the first time I'd seen the regular lineup together, and I thought they looked pretty impressive. Defensively, LSU is very good. They put at least three, maybe four players on the floor together than can block shots and play tight defense one-on-one. Offensively, they try to get to the basket, either by feeding Glen (Big Baby) Davis/Tyrus Thomas or driving with their guards and Tasmin Mitchell. Outside shooting and turnovers are going to kill them against somebody.

That somebody, however, will hopefully not be Duke, the Great Satan. For now, my dream of an LSU/NSU regional final remains intact, and that's good enough.