The Big Wish

The powers think they run the Internet. The people that really run the Internet will soon give them the keys and explain nothing. There would be a noticeable glitch in the webnets. Shit will get fucked up and the government would show just how limited they are as they beg the forefathers of the Internet to take them back. But during this downtime, the forefathers don’t rest on their laurels, as they perfect the Internet and publicly made politicians hand the keys back, symbolically, as the Internet will then take over the American fiber optics. 

This might be what the 2012 event is, the moment the Internet takes over. That would be a day, wouldn't it? Maybe a meme high jacks the prez election and the Internet releases their candidate for the newly patented "Internet Party:" Texas Congressman/oxygenarian curmudgeon, Ron Paul. The forefathers force the courts to rule on a new patented voting machine, based on server tally. The rules and regs are drawn up and endorsed by the Repubs (payouts) and the Dems (hookers/prescription medication). The courts will rule it a constitutional change to American democracy. Voting will go up 37%, the electorate college will be broken-up and super delegates will go back to work at local used car sales floors in Lansing, Michigan. 

Paul will win in a landslide. Fleet wood Mac and Billy Corgan will sing “Landslide” at the victory party, hosted by Jon Stewart. A new baby boom dawns.

If we can imagine it, we can change it.

Paul/Stewart '12

Era of Suck

Even in her offseason, the NFL has proven that she is a force to be reckoned with. It took a full 20 minutes of last night's Sportscenter to even get to the coverage of actual games last night as they recapped all the free agency and disciplinary action from the last 24 hours.

Saints ain't gonna have a home field Super Bowl this time around, as the hammer came down hard on Gregg Williams, Sean Payton and the Saints GM. Payton won't coach for the entirety of the 2012 Wayfarer and Williams is out indefinitely. Fuck! Where to start with this one....

Let's be clear, this is more about setting a precedent than anything else. The Saints ended up in the crosshairs of the league just as she was conveniently looking for a scapegoat/martyr to burn at the stake for the sins of contact football. This is more about safety than upholding the integrity of the game. This is also about the bottom line and litigation (ain't it always) and the avoidance of the latter in the future. But mark my words, once the smoke clears, this will be the NFL version of the steroid era in baseball, a strange middle period where everything that was on the hush at one moment, becomes a congressional hearing in the next.

"I'm a firm believer in the philosophy of a ruling class, especially since I rule."

Football is becoming a lot like government, in that there are too many rules and not enough enforcers of said rules. When your rules start to define the game being played (i.e. taking away the physical contact of football or having Satanic-suckers-of-lobbyist-cock masquerade as public servants), what you are doing is changing the scope of the game to suit the needs of their overlords. The outcome is something new that is pretending to be the old thing, yet never acknowledges this change. This, to me, is the worst kind of lie. If the NFL were indeed a sociopathic woman, we would call her Madonna.

Not a coincidence that this succubus preformed at the last Super Bowl.

This is the ultimate example of "do as I say..." in the NFL. Does anyone else find it slightly ironic that Goodell handed down this harsh disciplinary action on the shoulders of a storied franchise for being lied to? Goodell is fundamentally changing how the game is played, on behalf of the owners, to protect their collective investment--the pawns of the gridiron.

My guess is that when the teams huddled up last summer for contract renegotiations during the infamous Lockout of '11, they talked heavily about the problem of ex-players filing suits against the league for compensation of medical and lifestyle treatments they needed in their older age. The NFL agreed to institute draft to grave coverage in medical costs, but the caveat was that they would need a reason to justify harsher penalties against defensive players. And you get the sudden demonizing of players such as DonkeyKong Suh and James Harrison laying down the hits they are paid good money to carry out.

The truth is, these type of bounty programs have been embedded in the culture of the sport since it dawned. When when I was in High School, we were given skull and crossbone stickers to put on our helmets as a reward for a key tackle or sack. Although it wasn't cash, it was still an incentive program (or a bounty program, if you want to demonize it.) But I don't understand why this is all of the sudden a bad thing. Because the league needs it to be a bad thing so that they can implement their new policies, rules and ultimately penalties for the very contact the sport is known for. It's called problem-reaction-solution. This is the NFL version of the Gulf of Tonkin...and I smell a rat.

Want some cheese, asshole?

I think the biggest blowback of this sudden Hitlerization of making hits and tackles will be injuries on the other end of the spectrum, because the last time I visaged, there weren't many offensive flags thrown because Heinz Ward or Lgarrette Blount turned on beast mode after the catch and pummeled some poor free safety who was pulling up a little bit because he didn't want a league fine. What then? It's the same problem, is it not? It's so fucking stupid the blatant hypocrisy of it all. When did the defense become the bad guy and why is there pity taken upon the man with the ball? I think what we are seeing is the residual effect of the collective remorse of adult jocks feeling sorry for themselves for winning so many games of "smear the queer" back in the day. And it's the game that is suffering the most. There's a storm a brewing ahead, my friends--and it will put a black eye on the sport we all love so much. Mark.

My.Fucking.Words.

Okay, now on to the free agent highlights. Obviously ,I was super stoked about the Bears getting Brandon Marshall and I thank Peyton Manning and Marshall's penchant for smacking a bitch up for the reason the Bears got him so cheap (two third rounders). The only thing that worries me is that the Bears could start 2012 without Marshall (suspension from that faghag Goodell) and Forte (holdout)--leaving Cutler to piecemeal, once again, on offence (although he is becoming disturbingly used to this in Chicago). But, once they figure out how many millions to dole out to Forte and Marshall finishes his slap on the wrist, the Bears suddenly look deadly on both sides of the ball for the first time in my memory. Plus, they signed a couple ex-Raiders (Jason Campbell and Michael Bush) to backup Cutler and Forte, something they didn't have last year. I kinda like this Phil Emery guy, unlike Goodell, he approaches the game from a logical prospective.

Okay now on to Manning and Tebow. Mark my words, the Broncos now have a huge target on their back with Manning under center and it's not a given that he will be 100 percent next season. I predict a 9 win season, barely missing the playoffs because the Raiders pOwn the division like they have threatened in the last couple of years. Peyton Manning is playoff poison, so if they do get in the postseason, the usual suspects will devour the Broncos. One man does not equal a championship in any sport.

"The fuck you say?"

And young master Tebow has joined the circus that is the NY Jets. I really do hope that his faith grounds him, because the random strange that is going to be hurled at him in the Big Apple will be of the unbelievable variety. That being said, his virginity will walk a tightrope. But who knows, maybe it will be the edge he needs to win the job away from that pussyhound Sanchez. Either way, the Jets will suck again next year and miraculously, the NFL messiah won't be able to save the smoking 747 that is the New York Jet franchise, as it falls further into the abyss that is this era of suck.

Podcast: The Education of Jeremy Lin

In today's love affair with my own voice, I talk mostly about the Knickerbocker phenom, Jeremy Lin. From there, I go into familiar country as I wax nostalgic about old skool Knick teams, compare and contrast the vocations of stand-up comedy and teaching Community College, and I seem to remember talking about mine eternal nemesis: Mathematics. Set your phazers for FUN!

This guy Skooled Kobe?

Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon and John Wilkes Booth

1. Booth appeared in an 1863 production of MacBeth with Louisa Lane Drew.

2. Louisa Lane Drew appeared in an 1896 production of The Rivals with her grandson Lionel Barrymore.

3. Lionel Barrymore appeared in It’s A Wonderful Life with Jimmy Stuart in 1948.

4. Jimmy Stuart was in 1977′s Airport ’77 with Jack Lemmon.

5. Jack Lemmon was in JFK in 1991 with Kevin Bacon.

Thomas Edward Patrick Brady Jr.

Electricity warps outward in a dark alley. A flash of light burns then turns to steam. A nude male, 6'4, weighing 16 stone is kneeling in a glowing indention in the concrete jungle. The man rises, his body chiseled a Greek statue, his face calculated for a mission, eyes red as lasers. Beneath this skin an exoskeleton of future steel, programmed to destroy the youngest member of a NFL quarterback mill named Manning. This bloodless conception, know to humans as New England Patriot quarterback, Tom Brady is on a hunt--revenge his creed.

"I'm looking for Lucas Oil."

"It's all happening," was a common mantra amongst the throng of band sluts in Cameron Crowe's best film, Almost Famous, an apt expression, me thinks, for the ramp up to Sunday's football melee, a true unofficial American holiday that has evolved from clash of the bested gladiators to pop culture explosion when advertisers throw their tightest spiral into our collective eyeballs and gambling addicts bet on the outcome of a simple toss o' the coin.

This year's game will be different than all Super Bowls played before it. We all know what happened on February 3, 2008 in Phoenix as the Giants rose like the city they were playing at, on the shoulders of...well, Giants; looking down at the aberration that had become the Patriots bid to be the only 19-0 team in league history. It went down as the greatest loss in pro football history. Klosterman agrees.

Vince Wilfork enjoys his offseason...

But this game coming up should have the subtitle: Goliath Gets Back Up. The match-ups have be repeated to death by the so-called experts, but the one I am most interested in is the demeanor of Capt. Suave and the TE offense. The first couple of series will tell the outcome: If Brady comes out swinging, connecting throw after throw and gets at least 7 out of the first two series of chess moves, he has a good shot. But wait...this very thing happened in 2008. I guess the real thing we'll want to keep an eye out for is how Brady reacts to an early lead. Last time he didn't have the motivation to keep it going because, frankly, he was drained for the undefeated season and the ramp up to the equally draining Super Bowl hype machine that has been turned up to 11, it seems, ever since Janet Jackson showed the world her sunny nipple.

WTF just happened?

This Super Bowl will be different, mark my words--because Thomas Edward Patrick Brady Jr. has a fire in his belly that he seems to ignite at his will. He's the Michael Jordan of the NFL that way.

Feed me, Richard Seymour.

Believe it or not, this chubster would become the purest quarterback in universal categories to ever play quarterback in the highest league. Tom Brady grew up just north of here, in a parallel dimension to yours truly (wouldn't be a metagonzo journalist it it didn't point back to me at any point in the game here). Really, Brady is an amalgamation of about 3-4 dudes I went to high school/played sports with. And now that I think about it, at my High School, Eric Rabuse was our Tom Brady.

Eric Rabuse was my best friend in 4th grade. The tandem of Rabuse/Stutsman were the equivalent of a terrorist network to grade school teachers at Woodlake Valley Middle School. Eric and I seldomly paid attention in class, goofed on all the goof-worthy candidates and we were obssessed with seeing the flick Raw Head Rex (a film I still have yet to see). Eric and I were so bad that it was requested that we not be allowed in the same class for the rest of our tenure at WVMS. But on a technicality, we were back at it in Mr. Lee's class in 5th grade. Eric and I quickened whatever eventually killed Mr. Lee that year.

The Rawest of all the Heads...

After 5th grade, the school officially made it a policy that Stutsman and Rabuse not be in the same class for the next three years. After that, Eric became a really good basketball player. To this day, I marvel how natural his layup was in 1988. He was also a great baseball player, leading little league in the HR category 3 years straight.

In Pop Warner hell, Eric became the starting quarterback, then he leap-frogged freshman league football and became the JV starter, perfecting his throwing motion and accuracy, leading the league in passing categories for two seasons in Charlie Dodd's west-coast offense. I would watch my former best friend with the same awe that I'm sure kids in the Bay Area did when they watched Tom Brady rule the roost on Norcal gridiron.

Long story short, Rabuse lost the fire in his belly (if he even had it, Eric was the most natural athlete I had ever observed, but his heart was more into doing stupid shit in class than completing a 78-yard pass to William Harrison on Exeter's home field) when he threw 5 interceptions in a the league-opener against Lindsay our Junior year. I always thought that Eric threw the interceptions on purpose, as a protest to the expectations of his dad, the coaches, the student body and the town. Can't you just hear the Rage Against the Machine soundtrack in the background? The next year, Eric transferred to rival Exeter where he may/may not have been illegally recruited (ah High School sport politics). The coaches in Woodlake made such a stink that Eric wasn't allowed to play any sport at Exeter his senior year, which threw a wrench into the machine since Eric was expected to dominate in baseball once again, that senior year all-important to show off to the scouts for the MLB draft. This move got Woodlake it's quarterback back, but it was moot because Eric hurt his hand in the only game he played in that senior year, a comeback effort against Dinuba were the Rabuse magic was once again on display....for the last time.

#throwback

Tom Brady was also a Rabuse-esque natural at the big three sports. Brady was heavily pursued by the Montreal Expos in 1995. Instead, Brady opted for college to play baseball/football for the Michigan Wolverines. After the Wolverines won the National Championship following an undefeated season on the shoulders of Brian Greise, Tom Brady became the starter for blue and yellows in 1997. But even then, the much-hyped Drew Henson was nipping at Brady's heels, touted as the next two-sport prospect à la Bo Jackson and Neon Deion (Henson went on to play for the Yankees for a bit after college, retired from baseball and played quarterback briefly for Parcell's Cowboys before getting cut in favor of Drew Bledsoe, the man who lost his starting job to Brady in New England. Weird).

L to R: Drew Henson, some unknown Puke, and Gisele's meal ticket

Despite the Henson setback, Brady was able to start for the majority of his two seasons in Michigan. Then in 2000, Brady entered the NFL draft. Early analysis said he was too little to be a NFL quarterback and the NFL being the copycat league it is, Brady was passed up the first day of the draft until the Pats got him late in the 6th round.

Don't judge a book by it's cover...

My favorite Brady-is-a-T-1000 story happened not long after Brady stepped in for Bledsoe in 2001. I remember reading an article in Sports Illustrated at the CSUS student clinic (for undisclosed reasons), an interview with Belichick talking about Brady's autistic level attention to detail after taking the snap. If I remember correctly, Belichick was yelling at Brady after he threw the ball away on a 3rd down and Brady defended the decision by going into a detail-rich explanation as to why all his targets were covered as he rolled out of the pocket. Belichick probably gave him one of those knitted looks we all love the Coach for, but to his surprise, upon further review of the game tapes, Belichick was floored when he saw each receiver scenario play out just as Brady had described. It was at that point, I believe, Belichick knew he wasn't going back to Bledsoe in 2001--his franchise quarterback in New England was already under center.

As much as I love a good revenge story, I really don't want the Patriots to win on Sunday. But if they do win, Tom Brady will go down as the greatest quarterback to ever play the game. This is enough to root against the Patriots in general, if they aren't your team, nobody should have this much success--at least according to your local Cleveland Browns fan.

The key to the Patriots winning this game will be to keep Eli and his receivers off the field, allowing Brady to take ticks off the clock as he moves the offense down he field for a slow motion score. This is an apt game plan, if there is one thing Brady doesn't do is turnover the ball. But if the possession clock is 50/50, the advantage is with the Giants--because the secondary of the Patriots has been more maligned than any other Super Bowl backfield in recent memory.

But if it comes down to quarterback play, I begrudgingly give the advantage to Tom (although Eli, four years later has proven himself an elite QB). It's all about the fire in the belly, Tom Brady remembers all the people who said he couldn't do it. He heard it in Michigan, he heard it at the combine, he heard it at Patriots training camp and if you asked him, I'm sure the pubescent chubster heard it too. And Tom Brady remembers. Oh, does her remember. And these are the memories that act as jetfuel to his eternal flame.

This is, ultimately, why I am just jealous of Tom Brady. I'm not jealous of his Adonis exhibition in Stetson adverts. I'm not jealous of his conquest of one of the most beautiful models in the world (high maintenance on steroids if you ask me). I'm not jealous of his athletic abilities, his ease of existence under center, his championships, his MVP awards, his role as the golden face (and arm) of the NFL. Not so jealous of his cars, homes, helicopters, island deeds and access to inner-party functions. The quality I am most jealous of is this fire I speak of. I am jealous that through all of the fog of the extravagant lifestyle he leads, Tom Brady still has access to that feeling of inferiority while his life seems to be free of this inferiority. Tom Brady is advanced enough to know that if he were to let go of this spark, he wouldn't be as successful, year-in/year-out. One thing you can bet on in this game and any game that Thomas Edward Patrick Brady Jr. is under center, it will not be lost because he didn't give it his all. This to me, is an impossibility. Pats get their revenge, 24-37.

Podcast: Paleolithic Winter

Old skool podcast for yer ass!! Although I discuss the AFC/NFC championships at the top, I get into dark nerd territory as I discuss the best TV show in the boob tube's history, "The Wire," that SOPA/PIPA bullshit, the strange thing that is Superbrothers: Sword & Sworcery EP, the fantastical novel Ready Player One, and the ambitious album by the band Fishboy called "Creepy Classics" and the awesome band from Wassilla, Alaska--Portugal. The Man. Call me, Ishmael!

"When you walk through the garden you gotta watch your back..."

We Scythians loathe rainbows. #loathsomerainbows #sworcery

"It's the year 2044, and the real world is an ugly place."

If Tarantino made music. Listen here.

Musical Guest: Portugal. The Man.

Week 17 Blogcast: ...At the End.

Crazy, wack-ass league.

Oakland Cut Out the Cancer in 2011.

Dalton not done.

God Bless, Jeff Fisher. Wherever he ends up.

Flynn Lives.

History Repeats.

*chuckle*

"Show me your boss sex moves."