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eat the cup, part 12- i will refuse

i now remember why i don't follow sports. it's not that it's anaesthetic for the masses (which it is). it's not that these events are magnets for the kind of might is right jocks who i hate (which they are). it's that, no matter what anyone says, they aren't fair. sporting events are supposed to be the apogee of fair combat- equally matched opponents fighting it out, the champion being the one who is able to marshall the skills and the wits to eke out a victory.

except that it doesn't work that way.

1. deciding games on penalty kicks is bullshit.

strangely, i've discovered that i have fairly strong opinions on this subject. if you have two teams, well-matched, they should bloody well play until somebody wins or somebody dies. everything in the course of play of the world cup final dictated a french win. even when playing a man down, they clearly outclassed their favoured opponents. with penalty kicks. you have men who are trained to score goals shooting at a giant open target with one poor sod standing in the middle of it having to make his best guess as to what way the ball is going before the kicker makes a move. neither goalkeeper stopped a single one of the shots taken.

2. power concentrated is power corrupted

i'm not usually one to resort to this kind of thing, but the referee clearly sucked ass. i'm not saying this because it was the same ref who basically cost england their quarterfinal match. i will allow that that call was deserved. but he clearly missed a couple of vicious attacks by the italians that should have, in a fair match, resulted in penalty kicks for the french squad. considereing that they buried the only penalty kick they were awarded, it stands to reason that those missed calls were the difference in the game.

3. the underdog gets screwed

come on. the french team were booed off the field by their own fans in their last game before the tournament. they made it out of the first round bascally on luck and what do they do? they turn into the classiest team on the field, playing with the kind of heart that normally resides only in hollywood movie scripts. how much heart? i live with someone who went into this tournament saying that he didn't care who won (although he had his favourite), as long as it wasn't the french. as we were watching the opening of the game today, i was astonished to see him turn jubilant when france got their one penalty shot six minutes in and remain on the side of "les bleus" for the rest of the game. playing hard apparently can win over even your most virulent enemies, but it doesn't win you games. instead, what apparently allows you to win is playing dirty and faking injuries. not exactly a great lesson.

so in theory, tonight's dinner should be italian. at the least, it should be franco-italian fusion. but tonight, i don't feel like cooking. i once again feel like standing on my balcony and throwing rocks at the cars going by with their horns ablaze. which, ironically, brings me back to the point where i was eight years ago at the first world cup i paid attention to. i think i'll be ordering take out.

and so, the circle is complete.

ps- zizou, what the f*@k were you thinking???

Comments

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jihadvertising?

i keep seeing this ad for tictac candies:



am i the only one who finds the suicide bomber clown at the end a little unnerving? all the nice natural things like the bunny and the [extinct] woolly mammoth and the fruit get devoured by a trying-to-appear-nonthreatening-but-obviously-psychotic clown who then blows himself up. congratulations, tictac, i think this ad has landed you on about a dozen watch lists.

oh and by the way, showing me that your product will somehow cause my stomach to explode in a rainbow of wtf makes me believe that doing consuming tictacs would be a worse dietary decision than the time i ate two raw eggs and a half a bottle of hot sauce on a dare.

making faces :: hot stuff, comin' through

i don't even know what to say about the weather. the end of september saw temperatures at a scalding 36c/ 97f outside. this is especially annoying because we've had a moderate summer. most days it rained a little in the morning, the temperatures didn't creep into the 30s too often and there wasn't the normal stretch of a few weeks when it felt like we were living on the sun. now, we've receded into more normal fall weather, although it's still on the warm side for mid-october. that climate change thing is a bitch.

trying to think of something positive in the situation, it does put me in a perfect frame of mind to write about urban decay's naked heat palette. it's the latest in what appears to be an endless series of warm neutral and red eyeshadow palettes that have followed in the footsteps of anastasia's modern renaissance. [which i ultimately decided i didn't need after doing a thorough search of my considerable stash.] i do think that it'…

i agree, smedley [or, smokers totally saved our planet in 1983]

so this conversation happened [via text, so i have evidence and possibly so does the canadian government and the nsa].

dom and i were trying to settle our mutual nerves about tomorrow night's conversion screening, remembering that we've made a fine little film that people should see. which is just about exactly what dom had said when i responded thusly:

me :: i agree smedley. [pauses for a moment] did you get that here?

dom :: no?

me :: the aliens who were looking at earth and then decided it wasn't worth bothering with because people smoked even though it was bad for them?
come to think of it, that might mean that smokers prevented an alien invasion in the seventies.

dom :: what ?!?!?

me :: i've had wine and very little food. [pause] but the alien thing was real. [pause.] well, real on tv.

dom :: please eat something.

of course, i was wrong. the ad in question ran in 1983. this is the part where i would triumphantly embed the ad from youtube, except that the governmen…