You guys are a’buncha dicks…


What is up with this curious distance maintained between the hetero male fan and the athlete? What’s up with this fake-ass distance between spectator and athlete? An athlete who often looks NOTHING like them–and I’m not JUST talking about the racial element, I’m also talking about the element in this picture. Doesn’t matter your race, most dudes ain’t walkin’ around lookin’ like this, but on the professional (and NOW even college) football field damn-near every last one of these cats look like fitness models! Oddly enough, this is probably the reason why the distance MUST be maintained. These men are PHYSICALLY what most of the aging, dream-deferred, out-of-shape, couch-stricken men WISH they could be. This creates an uncomfortable situation for them…

    “I don’t know if I’m sexually attracted to his body or if I simply desire it for myself…and for myself I mean for it to be mine…not like MINE…like you would say MY girl, but I want his body. Shit. Not WANT like I want my girl’s body. I want to LOOK like him…so that girls WANT me….and so that guys WANT to LOOK like ME. In other words: I want to be confused, but act like I’m not. Now it’s time to go punch somebody in the face… Oh, over there, his face looks punchable…… Hey you, in the orange, why are you light-skinned with model features and blue eyes*? No seriously, why YOU and NOT me? Why can’t I be beautiful? I WANT to be BEAUTIFUL too!… Damn. I bet a LOTTA girls probably like you. Eh. No worries, I’ll just find some reasons why they shouldn’t and hide my jealous confusion behind them. Whew. That almost got weird.”

This confusion leads to the distance which leads to the weird love/hate relationship ‘straight’ guys have with male athletes. You’ll see this infatuated/jilted lover dynamic play out on your feeds, ESPN and sports talk radio. The athlete MUST be an ‘other.’ Some naturally gifted, PED-fueled freak-of-nature. A primal beast who needs to just shut the hell up and amuse us. He CANNOT be smart, outspoken or arrogant though. The middle-aged white dudes who control the popular narrative of professional sports act all funny then. ESPECIALLY if he’s unabashedly cocky. They hate that shit…
Continue reading ‘You guys are a’buncha dicks…’


    The conversation they have while on their way to Sac is classic. I remember having the same heated discussions after games. Good-ass times.

Sometimes the skill-sets of ridiculously talented players do not align with the sensibilities of the professional leagues in which they may aspire to play. The league’s just don’t ‘get’ these postmodern players. They don’t know how to fit them into the (imposed and enforced) rigid structures of their leagues. And because of this they miss opportunities to be ahead of the curve. Speaking of which, just peep how the ‘new-style‘ play of today’s created player-esque NBA guards and forwards line up with the stuff the And1 cats were doing. Really dig Alimoe‘s perspective here. Just found out he passed, crazy, dude was ‘nice’ and seemed like a nice dude.
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During tax time I came across a Facebook post for a well-known tax-preparation company and the vast majority of the commentary that followed reduced to this: “They charge too much. It’s cheaper to prepare your own taxes. And you get more money back.” which meant that instead of merely ‘liking’ the first instance of this popular opinion people felt compelled to offer up ad nauseum cover versions of it. This is a phenomenon you will see under damn near every popular article on the web. Very little banter, just over-eager parrots. But why do we do this?

Maybe it has something to do with the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
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TimeView addiction is no laughing matter…

    “WHERE ARE YOU MOM???!!! I must find you! I miss you so much! The Face Book record said you were supposed to be by the statue. Right there! Where are you mom?! I wanna SEE you! I miss you so much! You’re supposed to be right there! Right NOW!!!!! MOM!!!!!! WHERE ARE YOU???????!!!!!!!”

    Ursula Gray, 87

Don’t let the people you love become addicted to TimeView. Intervention isn’t being nosy, it’s being necessary.

Anarchy. Over-and-over again. Why? The situation breeds it. The tension is always there. Frustration permeates. There’s never enough. Always gotta pull stunts to make ends meet. Aggressive narcissism follows when you gotta ‘resort’ to that. It’s you against the whole world then. Fellow man be damned. Imagine this resolve–like a cancer–spreading through a people generation after generation.

I’ll leave you with the words of the renowned black American writer Dr. Jamison T. Bailey. The following passage is from his seminal 1964 book The Modern Negro
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“my savior”

my savior

“She was a for-real, on-the-stroll, twenty-inch heels an’ fishnet stockin’ wearin,’ John collectin,’ ruthless-pimp havin’ ho. She walked back-and-forth, up-and-down streets all over this country–and a couple around the world–for many, many years. But now–now she’s in a totally different world. Square job. Nice house. Luxury sedan out front. She’s doin’ all right for herself. She really values what she has too. She tells me she doesn’t miss her old life at all. She said it had its moments–the best were what she calls the fun-scary moments. Speaking of which…
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The Constant Equation


We’re all hypocrites, but that’s not exactly a bad thing. Actually, it’s the only TRUE thing. The inherent ‘nature’ of everything (all this infinitely relative diverse stuff) is hypocritical. Matter ‘contradicts’ other matter; doesn’t matter if it is similar (my twin, although ‘like’ me is NOT me, he exists AWAY from me in another body) or completely different; all matter possesses a fundamental difference as every piece of matter is ‘other than’ another piece of matter. Of course there’s a twist on this: Constant contradiction cancels itself out, it means everything is differently the same–infinite fundamental difference becomes infinite fundamental sameness (∞=) which creates this tail-eating absurdity…

    We live in a world of zero absolutes–or zero 1s. But look around…ONES are ALL you see–an endless sea of absolutely defined objects. This shouldn’t be possible! There should be no-THING here, not even space to accommodate the matter. But then again…

    The fact that there are ABSOLUTELY zero absolutes IS an absolute itself! However…since this truth is made up of a mess of bullshit it’s not really A thing–just parts masquerading as a whole; only absolute in theory, not in reality, but look… Look at all this stuff… Infinite undeniable whole 1s… Everywhere!

…and around and around the circle of perception we go. Almost seeing things for what they are and then suddenly blinded by smoke and mirrors. Like literal smoke and mirrors. Well, semi-literal smoke and mirrors: By ‘smoke’ I mean matter and by ‘mirrors’ I mean the method in which we perceive said matter: we relate everything to ourselves.
Continue reading ‘The Constant Equation’

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