Snap. Crackle. Pop.
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
 
This one's for the children
As a public service to those who "wake up early" to be at work by 9:30...

As a news source for the Web illiterate...

As a hand-me-down to get you through your boring desk job...

You know who you are. And you know what I'm going to give you.

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Washington scene

I'm almost embarassed to post this, because I thought everyone knew about it. But if Mike O'Leary hasn't heard about the blog scandal on Capital Hill...well, then it's clearly not news. (The short of it here, the long of it there, and if you're really intrepid you can find pretty much anything else you want using a few well-chosen search terms and Google.)

The new World War II Memorial--a landmark that works. Or is it?

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Humor--accidental or not

Using someone else's catchphrases has never made me a comedian...so you know that this guy's preaching to the choir...though honestly, while I love Dave Chapelle, I didn't even think it's that funny when he does it.

Who are American hip-hop fans to argue with a performer embraced by none other than the German musical scene?...After all, they did give us Rammstein, polka, and Rob of Milli Vanilli "fame"...yeah, exactly.

The show's over...but the quotes will live on.

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Health and science

Strong enough for a man...Breast cancer's more and more an equal opportunity killer. Ok, a random link, but I like to know what's out there coming to get me.

Half the reason why my dad wears a bowtie to work...

Typical...I spent last week glued to Wonkette for updates on a low-level sex scandal and missed out on the new form of life that might eventually give me breast cancer.

Memories of Vegas and poor Cal lugging his travel case all over the town..."Is that a Starbucks?" Not the kind that this guy's used to.

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Random but interesting

Remember before you turned 21, how you conspired to use the Internet to buy lots of wine in a vain attempt to be the coolest guy on your freshman floor? Yeah, me neither...I was already the coolest guy on my floor (by default, everyone moved to the quad.) Anyway, this judicial ruling might have legitimate implications on Internet purchasing, not to mention for college kids sans fake IDs.

The New York Times Sunday magazine is the well from which I draw my pop culture fix...and Rob Walker keeps the waters flowing. Latest column discusses trends in Web advertising. (The leading examples of which can be found here and here)

Fahrenheit 451: The burning of books. Fahrenheit 9/11: The torching of Bush's re-election campaign.
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And of course...

Apparently, this was the "play of our young century..."


Which I missed by being out. Damn.

Another blog worth reading--much more so than this one, so I'm burying it down here out of jealousy. The producer of "Inside the NBA" takes you inside one of the best shows on TV...with equal parts of humor and info.
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Thursday, May 20, 2004
 
More of the same...from me and from C-Webb
Every time I run into my friends Rachel or Becca around DC, we slip into a familiar routine: why haven't we hung out lately, what's going on, what random cable repairman is crushing on Becca. But apparently they always have some inkling what I'm up to, because they're regular readers of my blog . And in a familiar refrain, they always complain, "all you ever write about is basketball."

Well...I don't really feel like I write much at all on this blog. But I was thinking about it this weekend...and how much I miss basketball. Not writing about it; playing it. Hooping it this time of year in my driveway, with whomever. Watching a playoff game and getting so excited about what you just saw that you have to run outside and shoot around.

But I haven't played basketball in about a year, and regularly for two. And I'm not playing any time soon with an injured ankle. What makes it worse, is that I'm completely dreading the first few times I'd play again. The only thing I ever did better than anybody was battle--for the rebound, on defense, run up and down the court. Now, as I get older and seemingly get injured all the time, I don't think I'd play that recklessly anymore. And if I can't do that, what do I bring to the table? I won't be able to handle, especially against any ballhawk I'd find on a DC street court; I could never shoot.

So, with apologies to Becca, Rachel, and whomever else might wish that I'd focus on something more enlightening, the only thing I can do to get my basketball fix these days is watch and write about it. And in catching the end of the Minnesota-Sacramento game seven...all I can write is: wow.

Garnett rises...

This was a deciding game--in so many ways. It was a career-maker...or breaker...with an ending poetic enough you knew it was going to happen. Garnett comes down the lane to block Miller's shot; Webber squares up for the three--a much better look than KG's crazy three a couple minutes earlier--and the ball rattles out. Game over, series over, KG's rep as playoff loser over. And Webber over as a King...

Can't you see the headlines? Webber is going to get pilloried in Sacramento. Sure, Peja's playoff fade will be questioned--but his poor performance began with Webber's return in April, and the shift of the offense to accomodate him. Adelman will be questioned for working Webber back in the way he did; maybe he'll be the scapegoat. And C-Webb, who just a few minutes ago was crumpled on the floor after missing his shot, will just move on.

...Webber fades.

Webber is such a enigma. I'm sitting here writing this and he's flashing that endearing smile in a press conference, with a wavering voice and shiny eyes and a stat line under his name that never would've met anyone's standards for him before, but he looks old. He is old. He's 31.

I love Garnett. KG's my generation. Webber was never quite; he was on national TV and an icon before I grew up. But Webber is far more interesting--so talented, coming so close, but again...never quite. Early on, he was a victim of himself; a head case. Self-destructive. Now he's old enough that he can't get by just on talent and charisma anymore, and he finally realizes it. Now he's a basketball player sitting painfully in his suit in front of a hoard of media, talking about how any start-up company, any group, you take the hardest workers, the people who never quit, because they step up when it counts, and they proudly take the blame when it comes.

It might be the most beautiful thing I've ever heard in an NBA press conference.

I also have no idea what he just said.

I miss basketball.
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Friday, May 14, 2004
 
Who knew?
That these were still on the Internet...

Fligs was funny.

Cal thought his brief obsession with diversity would get him into college. Well, it didn't hurt.

Earl was also obsessed...with Stammy's noises.

I tried to be a smart-ass...but was just an ass.

and...

Jad was an idiot.

From the first issue Senior year:

September 25, 1997
Vol. XCVII, No. 1

"I've got every right to be arrogant."
- A recent News meeting erupts.

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Thursday, May 06, 2004
 
Why slot machines aren't gambling
From Slate--summarizing this coming Sunday's NYT Mag lead article

New York Times Magazine, May 9

The fascinating cover story cracks open the slot-machine industry by looking at the industry's leading game developer. International Game Technology's models, including a long-waited Star Wars-themed machine, feature the latest bells and whistles: virtual spinning reels, video-based bonus rounds, and an electronic recording of quarters falling. Some machines are "cherry dribblers," which offer many small payouts as they slowly and steadily erode your money. Others are programmed to look like you just missed the jackpot, though the chances of hitting it big are 1 in 46 million. The company's rules: No machine should take $20 until 15 or 20 minutes have passed, and you should be able to read the text unless you're legally blind. Behavioral psychologists say the "intermittent reward" model of slots is what makes them so addictive. "No other form of gambling manipulates the human mind as beautifully as these machines," says one expert.

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I'd like to see this movie.
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