We are the Orioles and We Will Violate You

From my sister's baseball trip--she reports that the Nationals' RFK Stadium is, literally, the "most disgusting" stadium she's ever been to, by the way--this Orioles schedule:



Is it necessary for the Orioles to be holding phalluses? The Orioles are not that potent!

Mo' Media Musings

It's funny how we feel the need to define ourselves. I speak of the embrace of labels. A National Review section of Monday's New York Post notes the departure of contributing editor John Hillen to a position at the State Department:

...[we] are delighted that the State Department is getting the services of such a solid conservative and fine foreign-policy mind.

By using the word "conservative" the Review makes the announcement read like a victory notice in an ideological war. I'd be more pleased if the editors thought Mr. Hillen would make an excellent civil servant noting that he has studied modern conflict extensively and even fought in one. Isn't the most important thing that we get the best people working for us, not that one side scores points against another?

I'm sure the editors are using "conservative" as shorthand to a knowing readership but, admission time, I've never read the National Review. But why would I read any magazine that labeled itself "conservative" or "liberal"?

News Watch

Some thoughts from watching the news. There was a tragedy in Virginia as four Boy Scout leaders died when they tripped a power line. The NBC reporter says President Bush will visit the Jamboree, speaking not only about the loss but of the Boy Scouts' role in developing leaders. I think it's a real great move that the President visit and extend the nation's condolences. If he mentions "terror" during this tragedy I will vomit.

During an interview with a former Space Shuttle pilot, NBC News saw fit to use rosy composite photos of the Discovery lifting off, surrounded by auras and a beautiful star-lit sky. I used to be the biggest supporter of the space program even telling my man Tim that the perfect world was "Star Trek" (capitalism is dead and the Earth spends a huge amount of resources on space exploration), but I've come around on this one. For the around 1 billion dollars for this trip, the crew better be fighting aliens in that space station.

Curmudgeon out.

B-Team

Rounding out my viewings of 1970's sci-fi movies, I finally saw Damnation Alley. Apologies to those who may have fond memories from seeing this film as a kid, but this movie sucks. I mean, this movie is ass.

Stranded in their military bunker after a nuclear war, George Peppard, Jan-Michael Vincent and Paul Winfield drive a futuristic van across a treacherous wasteland in hopes of reaching the last place left: Albany, New York. What incredible dangers do they face? Bugs. That's right, mutated bugs. And three radiation poisoned hicks. And the occasional storm. Where's Humongous when you need him?

With all due respect to the author of Damnation Decade--an RPG so rich I wish I thought of it--I say: Mr. Wrong Turn Journal, remove those bugs. I don't want to fight cockroaches. And while you're fixing it, watch The Ultimate Warrior.

Chop Shop

They knew how to make office chairs in the 1970's. My '70's office chair is a perfect trinity of metal, plastic and foam and last week? A metal support broke. And who the hell is going to fix an old chair?

I decided to go to the industrial section of Sunset Park, Brooklyn. It was a reach, but I figured the worst outcome would be people telling me the job was too small, the chair too crappy, etc., still better than having to submit to a cheap, plastic replacement from Staples.

On 39th and 3rd I find a welder and walk into the shop, preparing myself for the negative response. Inside the shop two men are using torches, the first on an iron gate, the second on what looks like a large boiler. Sparks are flying and crisping and both men have their face shields down. Seeing both guys busy is enough reason for me to turn around but the first guy cuts his torch and removes his helmet.

Hi, I've got this broken chair and, uh, this piece of metal here that needs to be welded back. He looks at the broken piece of metal for what seems like a full minute, running his hand over the piece. He's going to tell me he can't do it. He looks up at me. $10, he says. I'm ecstatic. Damn, this man would have attached metal plates and a death plow to my car, if I had the money--good enough reason for deregulation, if any.

Which brings me to my point. It is areas of Brooklyn like this that will lead a resurgence after a zombie holocaust. I used to think Jersey City had some of this industrial wherewithal but I see too many industrial buildings replaced with effete hairstylists, bookstores and restaurants--hardly the type of establishments needed for post-zombie reconstruction. Brooklyn is so large we can lose the weak areas such as Brooklyn Heights, Bohemian Williamsburg, and the non-hardcore sections of Park Slope and still be the center of a post-zombie world. And, besides: What's better than Brooklyn?


Finished with Brooklyn Heights