Football Is Back

LaFell (#1), absolutely lights up a guy at the end of this play. If you watch this video carefully, I think you can see the exact moment the Mississippi State player's neck cracks. Who else missed football?

If They Were In The Movies

Now, some may have misconstrued yesterday's post as comparing Prof. Evidence to a soul-sucking ghoul. Nothing could be further from the truth, and I wish to amend my previous statement. If Prof. Evidence was a movie character, he would be any character played by John Wayne. Tough, All-American, and iconic. Someone you respect the moment he appears on the screen.

Prof. PC is closer to any character played by Jimmy Stewart, not counting Hitchcock movies. Just and fair, he is the embodiement of all that is good in our society. Yes, this is me blatingly sucking up.

Osler, of course, is the guy who played Booger in Revenge of the Nerds.

Write What You Know

OK, I tried to talk about something other than Practice Court, but I think we can all agree by the almost incalculable lameness of the last post that we shouldn't try that experiment again. As Matt pointed out, we spend twenty hours a day doing PC, it is the only thing we can rationally talk about right now.

Which begs the question: how is Matt getting four hours of sleep?

So, my sole enjoyment has to come from the cases. So far, my absolute favorite fact has been the father who claimed that God provided him with cocaine in times of grief and sorrow. Which is the reason he got high when he watched his kids. With logic like that, it's a shock the court terminated his parental rights.

*Ed Note - It's probably an absolutely terrible idea to mention a case we have not gone over yet in Evidence on this blog. It only increases the chances Prof. Evidence is going to call on me, reach down my throat, and swallow my soul. And yes, I m worried that he is going to transform into a character from The Evil Dead. It's probably an even worse idea to mention this.

Fatty!

According to a recent study, this country is fat. Not just a little fat, but really fat. We're talking Orka fat. And, the South, no pun intended, is really pulling its weight as 10 of the fattest 15 states are southern states. So we have that to be proud of deepintheheartof (12th fattest! And 6th in fattest kids).

What I find great is that Utah is #1 in child obesity, but is 44th in adult obesity. What the hell is going on there? What kind of place has skinny adults and fat kids? How does that make sense?

Sorry this isn't that interesting. I'm trying. Back to the reading...

One Day Down

There's a certain code of silence regarding PC, one that I have no intention of breaking. Part of is that you need to experience it for yourself and secondly, I don't think any of us want to be seen as trash talking. Let's not have the mouth write checks the body can't cash.

But I don't feel it's revealing too much to say that it is a lot of work. I was at the school at 6 AM. Class started at 7:45 and it ended at 4 PM. I immediately started on the next day's assignment, and taking only short breaks here and there, I finished the reading at 11 PM. I read through dinner even, which probably isn't that great of an idea. That's about a 16 hour workday.

And I don't even feel remotely prepared for tomorrow. I've merely read, I haven't studied anything at all. So this is my extended break before going back to it. I don't think I can keep up this pace for eight and a half weeks. But thousands of people have done it before me, so it seems like I will be able to do it, too. Right?

---INSERT HUMOROUS CONTENT HERE---

One day closer to graduation.

Cigarettes and Lottery Tickets

Today I bought one thing I rarely buy and one thing I have never bought before.

First, I purchased a lottery ticket. Usually, I consider the lottery a tax on people who do not understand math, but the jackpot is up to $300 million. My odds of winning are 1 in 175 million. Which means this is one of those rare times it is completely rational to buy a lottery ticket. My odds of winning are still insanely small, but if I do manage to win, the payout is proportional to the odds. This is the essence of a fair game. If I bet on a horse which is 3 to 1, I should get paid $3 for every dollar I bet. If I bet on a horse which is 175 million to 1, I should get paid $175 million for every dollar I bet. Since I will pay $1 on the lottery ticket, I am actually getting paid out of proportion to my odds of winning in my own favor. This is rare with a lottery.

I'm still not going to win, but this is one of those rare times the lottery is a good bet.

The other thing I bought was a pack of cigarettes. I have never bought a pack of smokes before, even though I did used to earn a paycheck from Philip Morris (Altria, technically speaking). I am still keeping up my lifetime ban of smoking cigarettes, but I made a pact with Acosta. In order to keep him from killing his PC partner (me), I have to keep a steady supply of emergency cigarettes on my person at all times. In order to prevent him from just using me as a way for him to quit buying cigarettes, I am buying Marlboro's, which are not his brand. It also shows a certain loyalty to those good people who employed me.

Man, those things are expensive. I'm already thinking about quitting.

The End of Summer

We were hanging out at the pool yesterday, and I realized this was going to be one of the last times in a long time I was going to be able to just chill out and do nothing. I'm really going to miss nothing as I begin PC. Here's a short list of things I'm going to miss most:

- TV. TV is awesome. Don't let anyone tell you differently. For all of those people who talk about how TV is bad for you and whatnot, I have to think they are watching a different device than I am. Because the stuff which comes on my TV is great.

- Cooking. I'm not a great cook, but I get by. But I don't think I'm going to have time to perfect that recipe for my mom's spinach dip.

- Karaoke. I do love me the Wednesday night Scruffy's karaoke. I don't even need beer to get up on a stage and act stupid. Seriously? Someone is willingly going to give me a microphone? Awesome.

- Movies. Godspeed Galaxy Starplex, I shall miss you. It's not like the studios save their good movies for the fall anyway... oh. Wait. They do.

- Ping pong. I have to hang up the paddle and my ridiculous two-handed backhand.

- Smiling. I hear there's not even time in PC to smile. After trudging through the first day assignment, I think they are correct.

I now rely on the rest of you to have fun for me. Please fill me in on what I good time I am having. Sigh. Back to the books, it seems.

The Orioles Suck Even More Than The Rangers

I'd like to thank each and every one of you who came up to me yesterday and pointed this out. The score is not a misprint. The Orioles lost a baseball game to the Rangers 30-3. Thirty. Even worse, the the O's were winning the game 3-0 in the 4th inning. So they blew yet another lead (which they would also do in the second game of the double header, blowing a 7-6 lead in the 8th).

Thirty runs is the most a team has allowed since 1897 by the Lousiville Colonels. Yes, a team so bad they don't even exist anymore. For a little perspective, the Baltimore Ravens football team hasn't allowed 30 points since November 27, 2005.

It was also Dave Trembley's first day as the Orioles full-time manager (dropping the interim tag). You think you've had bad first days? He doesn't even have his email address and he's already setting records for MLB futility.

Instead of calculating ERA, the O's should track the number of pitches it took per run scored. It is epic in its crappiness:

Cabrera (6 runs): 16.0 pitches/run
Burress (8 runs): 4.25 pitches/run
Bell (7 runs): 7.7 pitches/run
Shuey (9 runs): 7.6 pitches/run
OVERALL (30 runs): 8.4 pitches/run

I don't know quite what that means, but I know it sucks. About every eight pitches, the Rangers scored a run. And who says baseball is boring?

Luckily, after the O's lost two games of a doubleheader to the Rangers, setting records for lousiness on the way, I could then ask my emergency NL backup team to bail me out.

The Diamondbacks won 3-2, extending their division lead to 3 1/2. Thanks, guys. I needed that.

The Heavenly Commune

Acosta and I were sitting on my back porch, stone cold sober (an important detail), and we somehow got talking about the legal ramifications of property ownership in heaven. It's conversations like these that remind me that we really will make excellent PC partners because I think we may be the only two people who can have a conversation about the Law in the Jurisdiction of Heaven when we are under the influence of Thai food. I come by weird and dorky honestly.

Anyway, it was suggested that there is no property ownership in heaven and that God was the owner of everything in heaven. Our souls do not have possessions, excepting the harp. So, if we own nothing and God owns everything... that means Acosta believes heaven is communist. Jerry seemed to back him up on this, and I defer to Jerry on matters of faith because he has a lot of it. We asked him to report back to us when he goes to heaven.

Acosta and I's heaven applications are still pending. But I hear we've been wait-listed, and that's very exciting. Even if they are a bunch of commies.

Surprises At the Compound

Most people for their birthday decide on a nice dinner or some other sort of event. Not me. All I wanted for my birthday was a trip to Mount Carmel to check out the remains of Waco's most famous contribution to history: the Branch Davidian compound.

The most surprising thing is how critical the literature at the welcome center is of David Koresh. The church has been rebuilt by the Branch Davidians and they have built a memorial as well. So they controlled the visitor's guide, which placed the blame for the "Waco War" squarely at the feet of both the federal government and David Koresh. Which was somewhat surprising to me. I didn't think that Koresh would be up for the blame as well in the Branch Davidian's eyes.

At the memorial, there are 82 stones, one for each of the dead. There is no stone for Koresh.

Poe Mystery Still Unsolved

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Difficult Life Questions

So, I'm in my old bedroom talking on the phone with a friend, when my mom barges in and says, and I quote:

"Sorry to interrupt. But do you want me to make you brownies or chocolate chip cookies?"*

I really don't think I want to go back to Waco. Instead of going through PC, I could just stay in my old room and have my mom make baked goods.

I went with the chocolate chip cookies. I think it was the right call.

The Monsters of Rock

Van Halen is getting back together. A mere 20 years after anyone would honestly care, David Lee Roth is getting back with the Van Halen brothers to tour the world and, frighteningly, record a new album. Longtime bassist Mike Anthony had the good sense to decline to take part in the reunion.

Who knew that the guy who played a bass shaped like a bottle of Jack Daniels was the voice of reason in the band? Don't David Lee Roth and Eddie Van Halen, you know, hate each other? How does this end well? I'm predicting another trip to rehab for Eddie.

Back From Vacation

Responding to the requests of my dedicated readers (both of you), I am back in the blogging world. I spent the last week at North Pointe in Adirondack Mountains National Park, far removed from things like cable TV and cell phone service. It was quite beautiful and a great way to relax and recharge, but I am ready to be back in civilization.

According to my rather generous guests, one of the great things about the Adirondacks is that there is nothing poisonous there. No poison ivy, poisonous snakes, poisonous spiders... nothing. On the downside, there are bears and swarms of black flies which can apparently debone a cow in under minute. OK, maybe not, but they bite. And draw blood. And that's pretty damn irritating.

I spent the week learning to water ski without much success, hiking through the woods, and taking lots of boat rides. That, and sitting on the back porch and reading. I plowed through Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, as my brain wanted something difficult after the steady summer reading diet of Harry Potter and college football preview magazines. I learned a lot from the Romans, mainly... do not mess with the Vandals.

The Greatest Paper Ever

The Weekly World News will publish its last issue this week. Even The Washington Post gives them a teary farewell. As someone who once participated in the WWN counter-jump to prevent the Chinese from knocking the earth off of its axis (it takes too long to explain, but it was appropriately ironic), I'm sad to see WWN go.

Unfortunately, it really hasn't been that funny for ages. There's a reason why The Weekly World News is going under: they stopped playing it with a straight face. What made it so brilliant was that they would report these gleefully ridiculous stories with a stern AP-style voice. It was great.

Godspeed, Bat-Boy.

755*

The Sports Apocalypse is upon us. Barry Bonds has hit his 755th home run, and middle aged sportswriters everywhere have broken fingers in their fervor to wring their hands. I wish we could go back to those days of innocence when our baseball players didn't do steroids, instead doing fistfuls of amphetamines.

Hank Aaron has admitted to using greenies (as has almost every old star like Willie Mays and Ted Williams). Yet I'm supposed to be outraged that a player using a DIFFERENT drug has ascended to the home run record. Our outrage is completely dependant on believing that using speed is okay and using steroids is not. The pitiful argument is that amphetamines don't help you hit home runs but steroids do. I humbly submit the career stats of Alex Sanchez, the first player to test positive for using steroids:

5 seasons, 6 home runs.

Barry Bonds is the greatest baseball player of my lifetime. He also has probably done more drugs than a touring funk band. I wish I could be outraged, but I'm not. The entire NFL is likely on an almost unimaginable amount of drugs, but it's the most popular sport in the country. I'm sure everyone outraged by Barry Bonds will immediately stop watching football.

To the credit of the San Diego crowd in attendance, their boos quickly turned to cheers as soon as the ball left the yard. It's hard to boo greatness. Barry Bonds is a great player, maybe the very greatest player ever. And there still isn't a shot which will magically turn you into a great player. Just ask Alex Sanchez.

That Had To Hurt

I'm not a big fan of the X Games. It's mainly that I don't think skateboarding should be a graded sport, its supposed to just be about doing cool tricks. If that makes any sense. Making it like other sports seems to go against the spirit of skateboarding.

Besides, it's really all about the crashes. I like the fact the announcer has to stop himself from cursing on ESPN and instead drops an extended "oh, shiiiii...."

Wicked, brah.

Pretending To Be An Art Critic

Am I the only one who thinks most modern art is just a convoluted dare? Like artists just keep trying to put out a more audacious piece of crap before someone actually has the guts to say "This is crap" without fear of being labelled a philistine. Which maybe I am, but wow, a trip to a modern art museum will really remind you how much you hate most modern art. And such began my day at the Hirshhorn.

The worst thing is you never know if you can sit down. Is that chair a chair or is it a "work of art"? Or even better, as turned out to be the case, both?

The big attraction was the work of Wolfgang Tillmans, a fairly talented photographer who appeared to have some rather interesting early work, got told how great he was, and then proceeded to believe his own hype and put out miles of pretentious bullshit. The tables in which he simply pasted other people's articles on AIDS and the Iraq War was the most heavy-handed and frankly, ridiculous.

And when did art stop being "pieces" and become "installations"?

I don't care. I'm a philistine. Wolfgang Tillmans sucks. Give me the National Gallery of Art. They have a neat exhibit right now on avant-garde photography of Central Europe between 1918 and 1945 and it's, you know, good. So its not modern art I hate, its apparently post-modern art I hate. Especially modern sculpture. But after I spent the morning looking at Rodin's works, everything pales in comparison.