www.davidjamesbrock.com

This free blog is dead. Long live the website I am paying for.

www.davidjamesbrock.com

Thanks,

db

Everyone is CO2

I suppose it's time to convert this infrequent blog into a casual blog that makes me a bit more Googleable. First step: for Everyone is CO2, my first collection of poetry, my middle name make its first appearance since 2005.  As news about the book, tweets about the book, or other any thoughts arise, sometimes I might use this space for things that don't really fit on Facebook.

I haven't really had much to say about sports and art lately anyway. The Barnstormer does that just fine.

db

Everyone is CO2, Wolsak and Wynn 2014

Beck's Midnight Vultures and I'm a Curmudgeon

I'm tired of fighting
I'm tired of fighting
Fighting for a lost cause

—Beck, Lost Cause (Sea Change, 2002)

Prologue

I used to love Beck and I would love him after Midnight Vultures.

But I did not love Midnight Vultures.

Who am I to not love something? Well, no one. Or someone. I don’t know.  I’m not trying to convince you to hate it. By all means, love it.  So read on, or don’t. Maybe you want to get your Midnight Vultures CD ready. If you still have CDs. Which you don’t. But I do.

Or just go here: Midnight Vultures by Beck Hansen....

The Story

I purchased Midnight Vultures the day it came out in 1999 from an HMV at St Vital mall in Winnipeg. I got in my car, put the CD in the Discman, plugged the tape convertor in, put the tape part of it in the tape deck, and then pressed play on the Discman. After the first song was over, I began to feel disappointment after disappointment. My Beck blues were alleviated in 2002 by the amazing Sea Change and then returned in 2005 with Guero. Bad bad, Guero.

The actual CD in question

Recently, half a dozen people have questioned my dislike for Midnight Vultures. Most people who have questioned me possess what I would call, “good taste” in music, so I sat down to give Midnight Vultures another shot; thinking, okay, I’ve been wrong before.

Just some other picture of the back of the CD

So listen I did, to Beck Hansen’s Midnight Vultures, thinking about my original 1999 reaction and my revised 2013 reaction and writing the following track by track reaction all within the time span it took to listen to the album. Hey, if Beck Hansen wasn’t going edit his work, why should I? So as not to upset people who actually review things, I shant call the following a review, merely a bunch of pith in real time on a blog...but this is important, people.

1.    Sexx Laws

1999: I remember liking this song when I heard Beck Hansen do it on a talk show, and remember liking the song when I put the CD in.  I like trumpets. And I like falsetto like when Ween does it. Like this...

Don't click on this if you clicked on the Beck album. Oh, now I've messed things up.

2013: Why was everyone saying that this was Beck’s “Prince” album? Prince never had a song that sounded like this, did he? Was Prince this intentionally cheesy? If anything, Sexx Laws is like a Tower of Power song or something. There’s a cool little country guitar and banjo at the end, which sounds cooler now that I have a better stereo than I did in 2013, which flirts with Cotton Eyed-Joe.

            Rating: 4 Beck Hansens

2.    Nicotine &Gravy

1999:  This song reminds me of Fun Lovin’ Criminals or that Crazy Town song Butterfly.  I like the big solo bellow at the end. Huaaaaaghhhh!

2013: Beck bought a rhyming dictionary for this song: “I think we're going crazy//Her left eye is lazy//She looks so Israeli//Nicotine and gravy.” and then half the song repeats this fun little pointless rhyme. I still like the big solo bellow at the end. Actually, the whole end is great—the part where he stops singing. This last two minutes would be a cool instrumental track to play if I ever open a vodka lounge and need mood.

Rating: 2.5 Beck Hansens

3.    Mixed Bizness

1999: Sounds like extra bits from Sexx Laws. Parts the producer didn’t like. His falsetto is getting pretty high. Careful, buddy.

2013: Sounds like Pink’s Get this Party Started at the beginning and a Mr. Bungle song at the end. Oh, this is the one where he sings  “make all the lesbians scream.” You know what song about lesbians is fantastic: Weezer's Pink Triangle.

Rating: 2.5 Beck Hansens

 Pause the Beck...listen to this. Then resume the Beck.

4.    Get Real Paid

1999: Robot sound effects are terrible soundtrack to driving a 1989 Pontiac Grand Am. Oh, and that vocal effect thingy…..  ‘We like to ride on executive planes// we like to sit around and get real paid.” Enough. I’m skipping to five. [note: don’t think I ever made it through this whole song in 1999].

2013: Remember Get in the Ring on Guns n’ Roses’s Use Your Illusion II where Axl sings a lot using some sort of terrible deep vocal effect? Now that I’ve heard the whole of Get Real Paid for the first time, it feels like a sythnpop version of Get in the Ring and this is not a compliment. Get Real Lost.

Rating: 1 Beck Hansen

5.    Hollywood Freaks

1999: Is Beck taking anything seriously on this album? Is he making fun of rap? I don’t get it. What are you gonna do with your life, Beck?! 

2013: I don’t hate Beck’s “rap” on this now, though it’s a bit of verbal diarrhea. Words, words, words….This sort of comes closest to Where it’s At from Odelay now that I think of it. Chorus is great, soulful back up singers are great.  I sort of wish Beck Hansen would stop talking over this great Beck song!

Rating: 3 Beck Hansens

6.    Peaches & Cream

1999:  Oh, the falsetto is back. “Peaches and Cream//You make a garbage man scream.” Why? What’s she doing? Is Peaches and Cream a she? Two shes? I’m confused. What the hell is this song about? Stop screwing around with the garbage man!

2013:  Oh, the falsetto is back. I might appreciate Get Real Paid and Hollywood Freaks more, longing for the days when Beck Hansen wasn’t screaming at me. Is this song about sex?

Rating: 1.5 Beck Hansens

Beck Break

7.    Broken Train

1999: Now where’s this Beck Hansen been for 6 songs? This is the Beck Hansen I graduated high school with. This is the Odelay Beck Hansen that we drank Old English on lake docks to three years ago. I wonder what I should major in in University.

2013: Easily the best song on this entire album. Call me a foagie, but part of my dislike for this album was always the sense that none of the songs sounded like Broken Train and all the songs sounded like Get Real Paid and I fear change. I also fear Sea Change because it makes me cry.

Let this one be the 45th song you play at my funeral. Okay yes….if I was making a Beck: Gold album, this would be only track that would make CD1 or CD2 from Midnight Vultures. “You won't find a shelter here//Tell me, what's your zip code baby//Did you ever let a cowboy//Sit on your lap?” is so good, I can’t believe two songs ago the same writer penned “People look so snooty//Take pills make them moody//Automatic booty//Zero to tutee fruity.”  (Then again, maybe if you’ve gotten this far, you might be thinking the same thing about what I’m writing here in comparison to this.)

Rating:  5 Beck Hansens

 

He wanted us to read these lyrics, so they're fair game.

8.    Milk & Honey

1999: Hey some Rock n’ Roll guitars. Then some funk. Then some words, words, words. Then some lasers. Then some piano. I’m gonna listen to Jamiroquai after this album is over.

2013: What the hell is this awesome song doing so late on this album?! This could be a Queen song. Best chorus on the album. Great ending. I love when Beck slows it down. Mutations and Sea Change are poking their heads in here.  But why can’t Beck just have some fun, Dave? No. My Beck doesn’t get to have fun. My Beck needs to be miserable and maudlin and dumped and religious like he's gonna be on Sea Change.

Rating:  4 Beck Hansens

9.    Beautiful Way

1999: Good song. But I’ll probably never hear it again given that it’s so late on the album, and two years ago Live released Secret Samahdi and that album is art, man. ART! Rolling down the windows, blasting Lakini’s Juice…I’m gonna be young forever.

2013:  Nice little Beach Boys vibe going here. I think Beck ended up doing another twenty songs like this, some of which ended up on soundtracks for Ewan McGregor comedies.

Rating:  4 Beck Hansens

10. Pressure Zone

1999: Beck sounds like Elastica on this one.

2013: Beck totally sounds like Elastica on this one.

Rating:  3 Beck Hansens 

Billy Joel's Pressure Drop, which also sounds like Elastica. 

11. Debra

1999: Cool music, but he just couldn’t resist another falsetto could he? I bet there’s a gal named Debra whose gonna love this song, sort of like how the teenage version of my mom probably loved The Rolling Stone’s Angie and my mid 40s dad loved Eminem and Dido’s Stan, and how I love Kids in the Hall Daves I Know.

2013: From the comments on Youtube for this song, people seem to love it. I suppose of all the falsetto songs on this album, this is probably the goodest. A nice note to end on, and I’m guessing that this is probably Beck’s second most karaoke’d song after Loser. Still, a gutless love song.

Rating:  3 Beck Hansens 

-->

12.    Hidden Track

1999: Well, that’s the end of the album.

2013: Did anyone know about the pointless hidden track that you’d never sit through ten minutes of silence to get to?

Beck.

Updated and Rehashed: Need a Favourite Toronto Blue Jay? Try J.P. Arencibia

Is it the destiny of a Blue Jay to always look up at Yankees, Red Sox and Rays?

Adjective alert! After last night's opening day 16th inning game winning three run homerun, I saw a spike in people reading this ode to J.P. Arencibia, which I awkwardly wrote last May. Well, in anticipation of the Monday home opener, and in honour of my own self promotion, time to repost (with minor updates).

Maybe you don’t have a burning need to have a favourite Blue Jay. That’s okay: not having one is forgiveable, and in the pantheon of important opinion, rests somewhere between “What’s your favourite Canadian play of the last ten years,” and “What is the best Billy Joel song post Storm Front?” (So, like, low.)

But let's say you do want to have a favourite Blue Jay and don’t know where to look. Or, maybe your favourite is Bautista, but you have trouble committing, fearing he will someday be a Yankee or Red Sock. Might I suggest J.P. Arencibia. Who impresses me. Not to gush, but here’s why.

1. That proper balance of a connection with Alex Rodriguez & massive disconnection with Alex Rodriguez. Okay trivia buffs: who holds the record for most home runs at Westminster Christian High in Miami, Florida? I’ll give you a hint: the record is 17. Give up? It’s a tie between J.P. Arencibia and Alex Rodriguez (did the heading give this one away?). Now, just so no one confuses the two players, according to ESPN, Arencibia makes $US417, 400 and A-Rod makes 76 times as much ($US 32,000,000). I’m not sure why this disparity makes me like Arencibia even more. There's something very 1970s Bruce Springsteen about the difference.

I have no problems with this. If was A-Rod, I would do this. I might anyway.

2. Magic: I tried to explain to two people this weekend how Arencibia has the potential to be that new breed of “magical” baseball player (like Kirk Gibson, Fernando Valenzuela, maybe even Joe Carter) without getting all pre-teen about it. To avoid the obsessed Twilight zone—the vampires, not the Rod Serling dreamscape—I have, more than once, compared Arencibia to Roy Hobbs in The Natural.

For any writer (still) reading this, Arencibia is to major league baseball what Johanna Skibsrud is to writing novels. In Arencibia's first Major League at bat, he hit a homerun on the first pitch. Only 28 players have ever done this. In that same first game, he hit a second homerun, for a total of four hits. He saluted the crowd, got a shaving cream pie in the face, and hugged his mother all on his first day. Magic...

Reminds me...the first Darkman movie was really good.

3. He is already the best catcher the Blue Jays have ever drafted in the first round. This might not be saying much given that Jay Schroeder (1979) never played for the Blue Jays and Matt Stark (1983) only played 5 games for them (and 13 in his MLB career), but it’s safe to say, J.P. can already claim this prestigious title. This is not to disparage either Schroeder or Stark, who in their own right, seem to have pretty great sporting lives.

a. Jay Schroeder played 11 seasons as an NFL Quarterback and picked up a Pro Bowl spot and a Super Bowl ring (as a non-starter, though); Schroeder enters that elite group of people you hate for being good at two things you suck at.

I wonder what it'd be like to catch for Jimmy Key....

b. Matt Stark was a hitting coach for the Florida Marlins AAA affiliate (apparently during one of the World Series years), and his bio boasts the curious stat that in 1993 he became the first player ever to earn 100 runs, 100 walks and 100 RBI's in a single Mexican League season. That’s a good thing, right?

4. Sportsmanship and proper comma usage: Last season, J.P Arencibia “broke up” Detroit Tiger pitcher Justin Verlander’s perfect game in the 8th inning by not swinging the bat at non-strikes, a logical choice. Post-game, Arencibia brought with a classy tweet, and what he lacks in full second person pronouns, he makes up for in commas used to join independent clauses when separated by coordinating conjunctions:

@jparencibia9 At times we u have to tip ur cap, and today was one of those... Verlander was special today… Hats off to him..

Ultimately, these smaller gestures are really good for the fragile image of baseball players en masse. [For more on tweeting Athletes, check the old entries on Rashard Mendenhall and Osama Bin Laden.]

5. He Likes His Mama: I was at the Blue Jays' game Mother's Day 2011, and there were some inter-inning clips of Blue Jays talking about what their mothers meant to them. All of them were a nice touch, but the clip of Arencibia hugging his mother (who it was mentioned raised him alone) after his first pro game (see point 2) combined with the fact that I had drank two ten dollar Budweisers had me a bit weepy. After that clip, a sea of people went to their phones to text their own mothers. It was impossible not to succumb to a bit of contagious behaviour—like when someone you’re talking to scratches their nose, you just have to scratch your nose.

6. UPDATE: The 2012 Opening Day Three Day Homerun in the 16th inning! Against Ricky "The Wild Thing" Vaughn in Cleveland! (Okay, so it wasn't the Wild Thing....but it was still darn awesome).

So yeah, not to gush, but in a world of athletes who can sometimes make it difficult to actually like them, this guy continues to impress. We'll worry about the batting average come July.

Yeah, man, you were gushing. It's a bit weird. You're really in your thirties?

The Best Curling Music Video Ever

I know it's from 2009, but I'm in my thirties, and new stuff takes a while to get to me, and Men with Brooms (the TV show and especially the movie) was disappointing; this clip is ten minutes long, yet it's worth it, so watch it:

Jamie Foxx is in it. Count the Fanboys.

Le Bon Jack: 1950-2011

'We can look after each other much better than we do today.'

5 ball. Corner pocket.

'You have every reason to be optimistic, determined, and focused on the future. My only other advice is to cherish every moment with those you love...'




Truly funny.


'My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.'


Jack Layton

"Macho Man" Randy Savage: The Value of the Bad Guy

Randall Poffo ("Macho Man" Randy Savage) was the greatest WWF(E) wrestler-entertainer of the 1980s. Like a lot of amazing wrestlers, he was often in the shadow of another more popular one, in his case, Hulk Hogan.

Sometimes he was Hogan's friend (Mega Powers)

And more entertainingly, he was his adversary:

Savage was always the alternative to Hogan: the good guy. To a kid who, consciously or not, never liked the coolest or best thing (I liked GoBots, Hey Vern! It's Ernest, the band Skid Row), Macho Man was the first time I can remember embracing the alternative choice: the bad guy.

After hearing about his death, I (like others I imagine) am thinking about myself as a kid today. There's really no other sane way to contextualize the death of celebrities you didn't know personally other than to remember their first effects on you. Before Macho Man, Darth Vader and Clubber Lang were the bad guys, and therefore, I hated them. I didn't want to understand them. Pro wrestling taught my single-digit self how to be interested in the villain, and that first villain, was Randy Macho Man Savage.

Savage provided a counterpoint to Hulkamania that wasn't draped in a foreign flag like Nikolai Volkov or the Iron Sheik (intricate political concepts like xenophobia were likely lost on me at 8 years of age). Savage was like Hogan, only, he was nothing like Hogan. And that was all a kid needed if he wanted to avoid the clutches and restrictions of Hulkamania.

Somehow, Macho Man dying reminds me of how glad I am to have never embraced Hulkamania for fear of the effect that might have on my current adult life. Hulkamania indoctrination might have inspired me to say my prayers and eat my vitamins, both rather mundane things. Maybe, being a Hulkamaniac would've led to a love for Nickelback or pleated khaki pants or conservative politics? I don't know. I really don't. But with Hulkamania, there was little room for human nuance. Savage was every shade of grey.

I'm positive the Macho Man taught me something when my brain was still soft. Learning to embrace the bad guy, hopefully, hasn't resulted in my becoming a bad guy, but I believe it has somehow expanded my tolerance, my defense of "unpopular" choices (yes, I realize I'm giving a lot of weight to pro wrestling now). Savage was neither wholly good nor wholly bad. He was as human a superstar the WWF ever dared present.

And for that, his death is not just another wrestler death. It really is, as people will say, a piece of childhood. The piece that didn't yet know, the good guy is not always so good and the bad guy, not always so bad.

Dig it.

Botaoshi: Another Sport I Haven't Heard Of...Until Now...

Okay, watch this. Maybe I'm late to the party, as this seems to be reaching viral video status, but better late than never. The sport is called Botaoshi, and even though I have no idea what's happening for the first half of it, I want to play it:



Literally meaning (apparently) Pole-pull down, according to Peter C. Smith's Fist from the Sky: Japan's Dive-Bomber Ace of World War II, Botaoshi is a Japanese Naval sport where two opposing teams [of possibly 75 a side] attempted to protect their respective flags placed atop a pole. Obviously, the game has replaced the flag with, well, a human being. (Though the pole has yet to become a Pole)

So what, you want me to just stand here like this until they knock him off?

The aggression of North American football, the rule confusion of Aussie Rules Football (though the OAFL's High Park Demons are currently at 2-0), and the mayhem of WWE Royal Rumbles, Botaoshi should be a surefire hit for North Americans into alternative sports who have long grown tired of Ultimate Frisbee and Unicycles.

So what do you say? All we need to do is get two poles and 150 people to the park this weekend.

Should be easy. Start Bataoshi!

Or maybe Americans invented Botaoshi in Japan. I need a research department.

Rashard Mendenhall & Osama Bin Laden, with Obligatory Tie-In To Candian Politics

We're about to start with one discussion, and leave it dangling on another, barely related one. This will be a problem for some. If this were one of my student's essays, I might write "lacks cohesion." We like a thesis. We like conclusions stemming from said thesis. However, the only real conclusions mentioned here will be death (Osama Bin Laden's) and 140 Character limits (Pittsburgh Steelers Running Back Rashard Mendenhall's). But a thesis? Okay.

I’m not upset that Osama Bin Laden is dead, or that Rashard Mendenhall tweeted about it.

On Monday, Rashard Mendenhall tweeted the following with respect to the Bin Laden death announcement:

"@R_Mendenhall What kind of person celebrates death? It's amazing how people can HATE a man they have never even heard speak. We've only heard one side...”

Obviously, some people were pissed. ESPN dusted off the "Should Athletes Tweet" discussion.

Hold up now, and let me finish.

Now, I didn’t follow the Pittsburgh Steelers running back on twitter (until now) because following NFL players on twitter can ruin their appeal for me. Last year, I followed one of my favourite players in the NFL, and maybe of all time, Atlanta’s WR Roddy White, only to find out he is a terrible speller with an addiction to comma splices. It hasn’t ruined my admiration for him as a football player (though maybe for the standards at his College), but it certainly threatened to. To be fair, seeing Billy Collins attempt to catch a Matt Ryan pass in the slot might affect how I read his poetry.

Or they are fans who cheer from the empty bleachers,
Hands cupped around their mouths" - From Marginalia by Billy Collins

But back to the @R_Mendenhall tweet:

“What kind of person celebrates death? It's amazing how people can HATE a man they have never even heard speak. We've only heard one side...”

The impractical philosopher side of my brain was with him until “We’ve only heard one side….” – I respectfully disagree that we did hear Bin Laden’s side, and the obvious literal side of me says it was pretty friggin' loud. It sounded like airplanes crashing and has echoed with war and global paranoia for the past ten years. Okay, so Mendenhall is a 9/11 conspiracy theorist. We're all a little bit insane. If the Steelers can forgive Roethlisberger's raping, I think we can forgive Mendendall for a questionable belief.

The tweet as a whole shows some intellectual balls (brain balls), particularly as NFL players twitter accounts often centre on football training and inspirational quotes (@jeremyshockey) unwavering love for America (@drewbrees) or solipsism and product endorsement (@TerrellOwens). Now, despite my leading adjectives, there is nothing particularly wrong with any of these tweeting styles, and each are well within what one might want or need from an NFL tweeter—particularly during Fantasy Football season. Hey, we all can't be @JohnFugelsang.

Rashard Mendenhall works a job where it’s necessary to have a personality, but anathema to display the real one (it's a bit like what us teachers are "supposed" to be). But Mendenhall did both, and agree or disagree, here’s why that’s awesome:

1. He actively engages in politics through a thoughtful and difficult question. If you're an athlete (which he is) and 23 (which he is), it’s likely too easy to let Twitter be a string of empty bullshit, especially if your fan base has no interest in what you ACTUALLY have to say (which his did). For anyone who bounces around this blog, a few years ago, I suggested Sean Avery was an asshole for “having a personality.” My preoccupation at the time, his only engagement was in being a thoughtless asshole. Mendenhall might have been a bit of an asshole to some, but puts considered thought behind it. That difference is huge, and the reason why every verbal disagreement doesn't become a fist fight (or why every difference of policy need not become a war).

Athletes dipping into politics without thought is bad (e.g. John Rocker's "The biggest thing I don't like about New York are the foreigners."). Yes, sometimes athletes, like everyone else, will piss people off with politics, and sometimes, yes, that starts a necessary conversation with the people who are most offended:

Mexico City, 1968 (from R to L: Uncomfortable white guy, Tommie Smith, John Carlos)

2. Mendenhall didn’t delete the tweet after receiving what must have been a shit storm of 140 character Patriotism and sports news roundtables condemning him. That takes wherewithal. Last week, I deleted a tweet, embarrassed because I spelled colour the American way “color.” Monday, a 13 year old girl tweeted me unsarcastically about a joke I had made regarding my "adolescent orange zits" and to be honest @skysfamousbaby, it took all my strength to let it go.

3. Mendenall clarifies his tweet with this follow-up letter (because sometimes, there is no shame in saying something using more than 140 characters). While I don’t share his religious justification for the tweet, he still had the stones to say the following:

Nothing I said was meant to stir up controversy. It was my way to generate conversation. In looking at my timeline in its entirety, everything that I’ve said is with the intent of expressing a wide array of ideas and generating open and honest discussions, something I believe we as American citizens should be able to do. Most opinions will not be fully agreed upon and are not meant to be. However, I believe every opinion should be respected or at least given some thought.

Mendenhall didn't express anything that was immoral (though pin that down). He expressed an opinion as a person, which is not the same thing as expressing an opinion as a football player. Yes, he gets paid to do the later, but it's refreshing to see the former, particularly in the follow up, which acknowledges without recanting, teaches without lecturing, discusses without concluding.

Now, as the title suggests, here's the leap:

Sometimes conversations don't need to end right away...in fact, the ones that do, probably weren't even conversations. This sounds too simple. And it is. I likely could've expressed in half a tweet, and more people probably would've read it too. Fresh off a disappointing election and extremely negative week of "discussion" in Canada, which will no doubt continue until 2015, I sort of just want to leave it at that for now...if you made it this far, and now ask "So what was the point of these 6500 characters (approx. 46 tweets)?", great...step one.

"The Holy Roman Empire was neither holy nor Roman nor an empire. Discuss."

The NHL Playoff Mascot Battle Part Four: Bruins v. Flyers

A day late, but cry about it why don't you? Let's finish up this premise, shall we….

What's a Bruin?
It's a bear. Killer of Goldlilocks, eight month hibernator, comedian friend to Kermit and comic relief for Dan Aykroyd's The Great Outdoors. Specifically, a bruin refers to the Eurasian Brown Bear, which has likely only ever been to Boston as part of a circus or as a rug.

Another Dan Aykroyd reference, Brock? Really?

What's a Flyer?
A Flyer is someone who flies. I thought it would have more significance, but really, it doesn't. So, I guess let's find someone who flies. UFC fighter Ben Henderson has giant wings tattooed on his back (any they're terrible), but he doesn't fly (and we need literal flying here). 90% of Seal songs discuss his ability to soar, glide, or fly, but that seems to be a metaphor. The only angels I believe in are Rod Carew's 1983 California Angels and the Greek mythology thing was sort of done in Lightning v. Capitals. No, we need a frequent flier. We need a pilot. And who better than the world's most famous pilot Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger.

I don't like where this one's going. You're actually going to make me fight a bear? I saved like, a bunch of people.

What if Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger fought a Eurasian Brown Bear?
As poised and heroic as Captain Sullenberger was on flight 1549, come on, this is a bear we're talking about here. There's really not much of a fight. I do, however, feel somewhat reticent to discuss the mauling of a guy who saved so many lives. I started writing about what a bear would do to a 60 year old man, and then thought, whoa, this is in poor taste, and hadn't I learned my lesson after the 2006 blog entry fiasco "Who would win a punch fight: Oscar Schindler or Ogopogo?"

So here's what happened in the scenario. The morning of the fight, Sully wasn't feeling well. He went to the Doctor who diagnosed a minor cold and recommended he avoid all strenuous activity. "But I have to fight a bear today" Sully said. "Not today you won't," said the Good Doctor. Enter the bear, "Are you kidding me? I trained to fight a pilot. I'm ready to fight a pilot. I AM GOING TO FIGHT A PILOT!"

What a bear wants, a bear gets. Now, keep in mind, no matter who fights, the results will be the same. The Bear will maul the Flyer. So, I ask you, dear reader in order to save Sully Sullenberger, which of these pilots would you like to see mauled by a bear? (leave a comment why don't ya). The nominees are....

Maverick in Top Gun













Ted Striker in Airplane!













Snoopy when he pretends to fight The Red Baron



















Mel Gibson in Air America













John Travolta














Result: Exit, pursued by a bear. Regardless of the Pilot the winner is...

Whoa, a Shakespeare reference! Show off!

The NHL Playoff Mascot Battle Part Three: Lightning v. Capitals

We now move to the Eastern conference semi-finals, not because we want to, but because we must start what we've finished. I've noticed some nice blog stats, so thank you, Poland! Without further ado (and a tonne of embedded pictures and links to break up the dense parts)....kumate!

What's Lightning?
Though this question often comes up while smoking pot or in Insane Clown Posse lyrics, lightning is electrical atmospheric discharge (that's all I can tell you. Go to Wikipedia for the real story). Lightning is all powerful, all consuming, and an element that figures prominently in at least three Dan Aykroyd movies (The Great Outdoors, Both Ghostbusters). Though lightning has many representatives, from Percy Jackson who likes to steal it to the cast of Grease who liked to um…grease it, when it comes to the heavy hitter, we look to the God of lightning (and thunder) himself: Zeus, occasional rapist in swan's clothing and father to more children than the Palins and 1980s L.A. Lakers combined! (note: click that swan hyperlink if you want a PG13 surprise)

Don't you know that if you hold it like that, you could go blind?

What's a Capital?
The major region of a country where governmental decisions are made, and we can narrow this decision down easily as the Washington Capitals play in, duh, Washington D.C. Capitals are basically buildings (i.e. The Capitol) bunched up in a particular area, but as Tom Hanks' Josh Baskin said in Big, "It's a building. What's so fun about playing with a building?"

I don't get it. Why is he writing about mascots fighting? Maybe it can turn into a bug...

No, we need a symbol of the capital that isn't a building. We need a leader. Someone with the guts to stand up to the scourge of lightning, which in a Live song crashed, causing a new mother to cry, while her placenta fell to the floor (Damn you, Lightning! Placenta on the floor is a hygiene issue!). Who's the man for the job? Well, it's gotta be the man in charge of the Washington Capital. Suit up, Barack, you're going in!

My right fist is called lunch, 'cause you'll be eating it.

What would happen if Zeus fought Obama?
We need a soundtrack for this clash of the Titans. So who better than one of the 16 greatest bands of the late 1970s Thin Lizzy. Press play for some good fighting' music and read on, if you've made it this far, oh, battle hungry reader:

Hold onto your hats here, but sometimes, lightning actually strikes capital cities. Instances of lightning in capitals provide some guidance. In 1902, lightning struck Paris' Eiffel Tower.

So, what you're saying is...Eiffel liked his penis.

The lightning damaged the tower and brought the getting-engaged-in-an-obvious-place economy to standstill; however, the tower was repaired, so the capital was more than able to Ride the Lightning. In 2008, lightning struck an Ottawa home (that's Canada's capital for the more than 40% of you who seem to be reading outside of North America), and burned it. So lightning takes that one. It's too close to call. This one goes to a game seven. Who will be the hero?

Serendipity! Last week, a lightning storm occurred directly over the American capital's White House. That's right: directly over Hawaiian-American Barack Obama's house! Now, and this is important (in relative terms), the lightning never made contact. So what do we take from that? Nice try, Zeus! Where France's wimpy icon failed, America's conquers! That's freedom lightning, Frenchy! Note how the American flag is so repellent, that even lightning will avoid such an obvious lightning rod:

U Can't Touch This!

Result: Capitals win. Nowhere in the literature (and I read it ALL) has there been an instance of lightning destroying an entire capital city. The Great Fire of London was started by a London area baker who left some bagels in the oven while he went to the store for some tonic. True Story, no one in particular.

Tomorrow: 4 of 4. Have you heard the one about the Bear and the Flyer. What's a Flyer exactly? Tune in, Tokyo, and find out!

The NHL Playoff Mascot Battle Part Two: Red Wings v. Sharks

We continue with the second of four analyses: "Which NHL mascot would win in a fight?"

What’s a Red Wing?
Of all team “mascots,” insomuch as a wheel with a wing on it can be a mascot, this one is the most elusive (only the Blues would be tougher to personify). A Red Wing is essentially, nothing. It’s a nickname based on a nickname. From Total Hockey: The Official Encyclopedia of the National Hockey League:

“(Detroit Falcons' owner) Norris had been a member of the Montreal Amateur Athletic Association, a sporting club with cycling roots. The MAAA's teams were known by their club emblem and these Winged Wheelers were the first winners of the Stanley Cup in 1893. Norris decided that a version of their logo was perfect for a team playing in the Motor City and on October 5, 1932 the club was renamed the Red Wings."

So, a Red Wing is a symbol: a single wheel with a single wing, but given the inspiration for the symbol, the Red Wing is a more usefully, more literally, a cyclist.

I ride bikes! And use Pert Plus!

What’s a Shark?
A shark is a deadly fish that ruined one summer for Roy Scheider.

Will Joe Thornton ever win the big one?

What if a Deadly Fish fought a Cyclist?
In the Will Ferrell/Mark Wahlberg movie The Other Guys, there’s a nice scene of antagonism between characters which provides precedent with which to discuss a battle between land dwelling and ocean bound animals.

WAHLBERG'S CHARACTER

If I were a lion and you were a tuna, I would swim out in the middle of the ocean and freaking eat you, and then I'd bang your tuna girlfriend.

FERRELL'S CHARACTER

OK, first off: a lion, swimming in the ocean? Lions don't like water. If you placed it near a river, or some sort of fresh water source, that makes sense. But you find yourself in the ocean, 20 foot wave, I'm assuming off the coast of South Africa, coming up against a full grown 800 pound tuna with his 20 or 30 friends, you lose that battle, you lose that battle 9 times out of 10. And guess what, you've wandered into our school of tuna and we now have a taste of lion. We've talked to ourselves. We've communicated and said 'You know what, lion tastes good, let's go get some more lion'. We've developed a system to establish a beach-head and aggressively hunt you and your family and we will corner your pride, your children, your offspring. […] You just lost at your own game. You're outgunned and out-manned.

Since game one of this series is in San Jose, the Shark/Cyclist battle must therefore take place in the shark’s home arena (i.e. the Ocean). Though cyclists have incredible lung capacity and thigh muscles, riding a bike in the ocean is next to impossible; actually, the bike is a definite impediment (have you ever tried to swim in running shoes? Like, way harder than that), and the cyclist is easily (b)eaten by a shark. If the Red Wing had home ice advantage and game one took place in a velodrome, I suspect the cyclist would gain advantage. We'll never know what could've been, though Shark in a Velodrome is possibly a good indie band name.

If Pavement stuck with their original name, Shark in a Velodrome, they would still hate you.

Result: Sharks win (just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water with your bike….). In these literal mascot battle scenarios, I wonder if anything will beat a shark (Lightning maybe? A Bruin-Shark final could be interesting, and is the premise of a 2001 book by Chris Bachelder.)

Fun Fact: Based on a 1990 fan vote, The San Jose Sharks original name was to be the San Jose Blades, but owners were concerned about the association with weapons and gang violence. The Shark received the second most votes, and history was sort of made.

Later Today: Mr. Lightning Goes to Washington.