Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Feliz Quatro de Julio!!! 

The Germans and Italians, pursuing world domination 60 years after they helped set the globe on fire, get it on today to detemine which former Axis power will play for the World Cup title. I wonder how many songs with "Huns Suck!" and "Facists Fucks! " will be tossed back and forth?

Sports as a metaphor for war by other means is an old trope, but hell, it might be fun to watch how much better USA would instantly become if every 4 years the winner of this tournament got to hold dominion over all others.

Tomorrow, the French and the Portuguese get to bruise one anothers shins for the remaining spot in the final. I'm not sure how much historical animosity each team brings to the game, probably not a lot. In 1812 the Portugeuse joined up with Britain and Spain to boot the French from the Iberian Pennisula. That's like the smallest kid on the block taggin along to watch two friendly bullies wallop on an unfriendly bully.

Best historical brawl we could ask for: France v Germany with the French fielding their No Maginot Line.


He's never read Declaration of Independence and believes the Federalist Papers is a newsletter for government employees.

Monday, July 03, 2006

Zarqawi's My Space 

According to "Iraqi authorities" the cell phone of the late Musab al-Zarqawi had phone numbers of Iraqi politicos and bureacrats stored in its directory. No names have been revealed, but then, when cooking up a good campaign to discredit your opponents, it's always advantagous to let speculation, rumor and innuendo steep for awhile before pouring.

I have it on good conjecture that there were other numbers on the former video clerk's Disney Mobile (Goofy Model) Nokia that might raise a few eyebrows. Among those are:

- Speed dial to Katz's Deli in New York. When called from the Zarqawi phone, Katz's answered with what apparently was a standing order for the idenified number: 3 reubens with extra sauerkraut, 1/2 dozen plain bagels with lox and light creme cheese; 2 orders of cole slaw, 2 orders of potato salad and 6 pickles.

- A New Balance Outlet in Skowhegan Maine.

- A child psychiatrist in La Paz, Bolivia.

- An old 800 # for Miss Cleo

- Uncle Donald? Just a recordering asking for name, and GPS coordinates.

- The Catalog Department at ArmsMart ("The Better than Wholesale or those AssHoles in Tehran Price Leader") in Islamabad

- Private Banking at Charles Schwab

The Majority of Jingoist blather aimed at soccer and the World Cup from right leaning US commentators centers on a perceived "lack of action" which is equated with moral decay and general inferiority of the balance of the planet's population. The dearth of activity lamented by folks who obviosly never played the game is really about the paucity of scoring in these games: final tallies of 2 -1, 1-0, 3-2 are all unacceptable results from a 90 minute competition according to some. An outcome of 25-21 is more likely to keep the attention of those raised on Ritalin, video games and 2nd hand television pollution.

I suspect the same writers who can't get a grip on the grip soccer has on the rest of the world measure the success of their breakfast, dinner and lunch not by the quality of the food consumed but by the ratio of caloric intake to price paid. They may dine on mediocrity but by God, it's a truck load of mediocrity for the buck. The preparation, and presentation of the meal are inconsequential and hold no interest to the generations raised on and worshiping at the altar of consumption as a constitutional right.

No, soccer is not a game for the weak of focus or those expecting instant gratification at five minute intervals. It's an acquired taste that appreciates long range planning, patient execution and making the most of one's opportunities; character traits not found in wars of convenience, improvised policies and a leadership convinced that its own failures can eventually be made good by through an infinte suppy of mulligans. But that's another game, altogether.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?