Category: Blog Post

  • The worst are full of passionate intensity

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    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun

    Ok, it’s national poetry month, and I’m going to post a poem every day– Sometimes in addition to another post, sometimes just by itself.

    Enjoy.

    The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats

    Turning and turning in the widening gyre
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all convictions, while the worst
    Are full of passionate intensity.

    Surely some revelation is at hand;
    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
    Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
    Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
    The darkness drops again; but now I know
    That twenty centuries of stony sleep
    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

    The lines about the best lacking all conviction while the worst are full of intensity kind of sums up things around here these days, no?

  • Did I Mention The Guy's Name Is Corky Miller?

    Corky Miller. Corky Mother-Humping Miller. Get serious. That name, I don’t think I need to tell you, just isn’t going to get it done.

    Corky Miller is the name of the grizzled chuckwagon cook in a western round-up.

    Corky Miller is the fat, beleaguered first baseman on a little league team in an After School Special.

    Corky Miller is the hayseed in the danceline of a Broadway musical.

    Corky Miller is an astigmatic junior high school shop teacher.

    Corky Miller is the bully with a crewcut in a comic book from the 1950s.

    Corky Miller is a Division I women’s basketball coach.

    Corky Miller is the host of a cable access Christian children’s television program.

    Corky Miller is a ventriloquist’s dummy.

    Corky Miller is a golf caddy.

    Corky Miller is a gentleman suitor.

    Corky Miller is a sidekick, an afterthought, a horse track rube, a meddlesome neighbor, a musclehead with a fake tan.

    Corky Miller is not a Major League baseball player. Not in the 21st century, he’s not. He better not be.

  • This is not about Terri Schiavo

    It’s about George Bush. Here’s his comment today when told of the death of Schiavo.

    “I urge all those who honor Terri Schiavo to continue to work to build a culture of life, where all Americans are welcomed and valued and protected,” the president said, “especially those who live at the mercy of others.

    “The essence of civilization is that the strong have a duty to protect the weak. In cases where there are serious doubts and questions, the presumption should be in the favor of life.”

    These preposterous words from the man who signed death warrants with gusto for juveniles, mentally handicapped and sincere penitents while governor of Texas. These from a man who presides over the torture to death or indeterminate imprisonment of people unlucky enough to be rounded up in Afganistan or Iraq. These from the man who blithely sends our soldiers to Iraq without body armor or armored vehicles. These from a man who manufactures evidence to precipitate a war.

    Shame.

  • Wonkery

    Our dear old friend Ana Marie Cox , aka Wonkette, has certainly had a hard time staying out of the limelight these past twelve months. As James Woolcott points out today, there are good reasons to worry for the welfare of the funny, smart, cute little pill in D.C.—a town where, we have to admit, someone with a real sense of humor stands out like teats on a boar.

    Now the NY Daily News reports that Wonkette may be sniffing around Richard Leiby’s gossip-mongering beat at the Washington Post—this despite her declared preference for humor over reporting. We’ll take her word for it, but we know that Ms. Cox has considerably more staying power than her fleeting daily output of punchlines would suggest— her real strengths lie along editorial lines, both in story concepting and editing, but also oversight.

    Now we’re not going to dwell too much on Q-Rating here, but she does seem to have the knack for somewhat less substantive media forms like TV punditry. Her metoric rise to the cover of the New York Times magazine occurred about the same time she stopped answering our emails, so we have no inside information here. But we can say it made us feel a little disappointed, knowing that she deserves to be writing in that magazine, rather than being glorified on its cover.

    We may have the distinction of being the last print publication to publish a piece from her that exceeded the blogging threshold of about 150 words with twelve bullet points. As we say, we would not presume to make career decisions on her behalf, and they say you gotta dance with the one that brung you—so we may not see her get off the carousel of blogging conferences and panels anytime soon.

    In the meantime, we’re happy to have her doppelganger firmly in place doing the things HE does best.

  • The Final Pieces

    It would truly be folly if, as has been rumored, the Twins end up keeping four catchers on their roster (two real catchers, and two imposters) and cutting Michael Restovich loose. I still have a hard time believing that’s going to happen.

    It’s all a result of a bizarre set of circumstances, of course, what with the Twins having a surplus at several positions and a dearth of satisfying alternatives at a couple others. I know they feel they need a safety cushion in case Joe Mauer’s knee flares up, but four catchers is both more and in this case less than a safety cushion, when two of those guys (Matthew LeCroy and Corky Miller) would be nothing but last resorts. Miller has done absolutely nothing other than presumably being able to crouch and don the catcher’s gear to deserve a spot on the major league roster, and I don’t see how he’s any kind of an upgrade from last year’s desperate measure, Rob Bowen. If Mauer’s knee truly becomes a concern they’re going to have to do something to address the problem sooner rather than later, and certainly none of the available candidates allows them to do that or (other than LeCroy) is even likely to be here next season.

    I think Mauer’s knee will be fine, by the way. I talked to him about it last year on a number of occasions, and I sense this is a case of a 21-year-old kid who’s never had an injury of any sort getting used to the idea that his knee doesn’t feel quite the way it once did. As anyone who’s had knee surgery could tell you –and Mauer’s surgery was a relatively minor procedure, particularly when compared to Jason Kubel’s reconstruction– there are always going to be flare-ups of pain and discomfort, and there may well be additional glitches down the road. But for the time being, at least, it seems to me that the whole idea of being vulnerable is just something he needs to get his head around.

    The real problem for Restovich is the insecurity involving the guy at second base, Luis Rivas, who has continued his maddening trend of answering questions with more questions. I don’t know anymore. I’ve tried to be positive about Rivas, and have pointed out his age as a potential cause for optimism. After the spring he’s had that just doesn’t cut it anymore, and how much worse off would the team be with Nick Punto at second? It now seems certain that they’re going to keep the switch-hitting Terry Tiffee as a bat off the bench, but let’s not forget that there’s still always the option of moving Michael Cuddyer over to second –at least from time to time– and starting Tiffee at the corner.

    I wonder if the Twins have ever seriously considered cutting Rivas loose? It would certainly make things a lot easier for the time being, and would allow them to keep Restovich, a guy who they’ve invested a great deal of time and money in and who’s never really gotten a shot to show what he can do at the Major League level. Toss in that he’s a Rochester kid, was regarded as a prospect as recently as a couple seasons ago, and has power potential and I can’t for the life of me understand why they’d let him go to free up a spot for someone like Corky Miller. It makes absolutely no sense to me.

  • Satan, Etc.

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    To dine, drink champagne, make a racket, and deliver speeches about national consciousness, the conscience of the people, freedom, and such things, while slaves in tail coats are running round your tables, veritable serfs, and your coachmen wait outside in the street, in the bitter cold –that is lying to the Holy Ghost.

    Chekhov, Diary, February 19, 1896

    Do you see that bruise blooming out there along the western horizon? I do believe that is the darkness coming on, fellas. Dutch, old boy, while we wait for them beans to boil why don’t you tune up that geetar of yours and favor us with one of them old hellhound yodels of yours? I might suggest the one about Satan and the fat little baby, where the bird carries away the baby and hides it under a bush and a badger finds it there and offers to trade it to Satan for the chance to walk upright like a man; and though Satan eventually agrees to this particular arrangement, he finds himself over time increasingly embittered by the hard bargain the badger drove with him so he makes that little baby grow up to be a great tyrant, and the tyrant one day orders the execution of the badger, who has been going about the world as an investment banker.

    I love that song.

  • David Scores a Minor Hit on Goliath

    Last week, a landmark case was settled between freelance writers and some of the nation’s largest publishers. It was a long-running, complex case, but it basically came down to this: Freelance writers believed that electronic archives of their work—from articles on the web, to paid-access databases like Lexis-Nexis—amounted to republishing their work, without any additional compensation to them.

    This probably would not be a big deal if there wasn’t a lot of money at stake. In other words, if the magazines and newspapers archived freelance articles and offered free access to them. That approach might be considered a brand of largesse something like the public library keeping back issues on hand, or in microfiche. But as soon as the Times, or AOL-Time Warner, or Lexis-Nexis tried to make money a second time (after buying first serial rights—the right to publish a piece first and once, exclusively), they crossed a line. Now, of course, they explicitly require writers to sign away these rights— and writers are free to negotiate in the event, or take their work elsewhere.

    The problem, from a writer’s point of view, is the incredible imbalance in such a negotiation. You have to have some pretty big cajones to say no to the New York Times, when you are trying to make a living as a freelancer. It’s rather like telling your health insurer to go to hell when it informs you that your premium will be going up, please remember to pay promptly in the enclosed envelope, post office will not deliver without postage. We know from experience that any antagonism at all gives editors at prestigious publications the slimmest excuse they need to unofficially black-list a writer just as surely as if she blew a deadline or turned in a page of phone numbers.

    Know why? Here’s a shocking figure that came out incidentally in the case: For the period in dispute, the New York Times used more than twenty-seven thousand freelancers to write more than one hundred thousand articles. (Doing some rough math, that averages fewer than four articles per freelancer, probably in the range of a couple hundred dollars per article. That is a number that will be crossing our lips for years to come whenever anyone asks us about the prestigious, romantic, lucrative world of freelance. Despite the fact that some winning freealncers in this lawsuit may receive a six-figure payoff, and despite the fact that this is a huge moral victory for writers everywhere, it is highly depressing to realize why so many editors are merely frustrated freelance writers.

    Now, perhaps the next frontier will be the poor, indentured crossword writers at the Times–who are asked to sell all their rights forever for the price of a good dinner, while the Times republishes their puzzles at will and with impunity.

  • The business of being a Democrat

    To anyone who has ever built a business, the logic of Bill Bradley’s op-ed piece in today’s NY Times is second nature. Build a strong base, add creative theorists, and hire great strategic sales people. From a strong organization, strong leaders will emerge. And such an organization will continue to grow and prosper.

    I’ve always said the reason the Republicans continue to kick Demo butt on a regular basis is that Republicans take a purely business-like approach to politics. They’ve built an organization. They have the thinkers who can construct cogent arguments for their positions. And, they have great marketers who understand how to make their positions attractive to the mass market. If you have such an organization, the actual top leadership is often secondary–indeed, if the presidency of the current moron in chief tells us anything, it’s that anyone can be a leader when the only thing he has to do is sit at the top of the heap and take credit for the work of the organization.

    Today, Bradley, one of the few people who seem to understand just what the Republicans have wrought, calls on Democrats to do the same thing. It will never happen though, because unlike the Republicans, Democrats have no patience. They’ll never have the “Emotional Intelligence” top business people possess in abundance. And that’s why they’re doomed.

  • Twenty Questions: The Baseball Version

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    …Baseball owners, writers, fans and lots of others found themselves beset with questions for which nobody has any real answers. Was attendance keeping pace with the population growth? Were ball parks really outmoded? Was the game declining in popularity? Were ball players getting too commercial? Was the game too old fashioned for an audience getting more and more used to speed and action?

    Among some typical squawks [from fans] were these: Tickets sometimes cost too much….Some games are just too darn long and slowly paced. It is sometimes easier and more relaxing to watch the game on television….Apparently fans don’t mind spending time in the park; they just don’t like to be bored by innumerable mound conferences.

    John T. Casey, “Seven Answers to What’s Wrong With Baseball,” Baseball Magazine, July 1956

    Would you rather hit .340 with absolutely no power or .240 with 45 homeruns?

    Lex clavatoris designati rescindenda est (The designated hitter has got to go). Agree or disagree?

    Greatest season of all-time: Rogers Hornsby in 1922 (.401, 42 HRs, 152 RBIs) or Lefty Grove in 1931 (31-4, 2.06 ERA)? Is there someone else you’d like to enter into the discussion?

    Pick an Evans: Dwight or Darrell?

    What was the most lopsided trade in history? (I might take Houston’s swap of Larry Anderson for Boston’s Jeff Bagwell.)

    Has an outfielder ever thrown for the cycle (thrown out runners at every base in a single game)?

    Has a centerfielder ever recorded a put-out in foul territory?

    Who is the most underrated player of the current era?

    You have the first pick in your faux-baseball draft. Which player do you choose?

    Who is the worst player ever to wear a Twins uniform?

    Who was (or is) the most unslightly player ever to wear a Twins uniform?

    Do you sometimes feel like people are laughing at you behind your back?

    Who was the greatest disappointment in Twins’ history (in terms of failure to live up to potential)?

    The Wave: do you participate, or sit it out?

    Which player’s name was embossed on the mitt you used as a kid?

    Wrigley Field or Fenway Park?

    What is the greatest baseball book of all-time?

    Wally the Beerman: Pro or con?

    Pitcher’s duel or slugfest?

    Finally, A bit of memorabilia for the fan who has everything…

  • Twenty Questions

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    What is the one invention you couldn’t possibly live without?

    Do you subscribe to the theory that if the shoehorn were to become obsolete we would see the end of the true-fitting slip-on?

    When was the last time you listened to Nirvana’s “Nevermind”?

    In your dreams are you most commonly flying, swimming, or naked on a schoolbus?

    If there was a new planetary order that allowed humans to buy celebrities as pets, and money (and money-making potential) were no object, which celebrity would you buy?

    What is the fastest you have ever driven an automobile?

    Be Honest: Did you ever throw a rock at a Mormon?

    If you could have one sentence tattooed on your body what would it be?

    Did you ever see a giant in the supermarket, signing autographs and selling bacon?

    Choose one: Ween or Queen?

    Would you harpoon a whale, if given the opportunity?

    If you could resurrect one dead rock star, who would it be?

    If God gave you the power to eradicate a single species from the planet, which creature would you mark for extinction?

    Is that the necklace the dog gave you?

    Do you know the way to San Jose?

    Are we almost there?

    You call that a proper meal?

    You call that a day?

    What in God’s name is wrong with you?

    Any further questions?