One word

Awesome.

And for further amusement:



And to complete the trifecta:

Well, that was a close one

And I thought for sure we were all goners ...



Since we'll be around post-2012 after all (and because it's never to early to start America's favorite parlor game) I figured I'd check out who the odds-makers have in the already-underway 2012 presidential campaign.

Here's the odds on the Republicans, and then on the whole field. Who you got? My money's on Sanford (for the Republican nomination, that is). Hell, if the Obamarama keeps going at this pace, the guy might serve five or six terms.

Another perk of knowing that Armageddon isn't just around the corner - the fact that I'll be able to watch faaaaaaaantastic NBA basketball well into my late 20s. Any NBA talk these days, of course, touches on the summer of 2010 free agent bonanza, the year LeBron, Wade, Bosh et al. hit the open market.

Given the age of the three superstars on the Celtics, I must say the prospect of signing one of the young guns to a long-term deal sits pretty well on this end. And wouldn't you know, Ray Ray's contract is due to expire just in time for that fateful summer.

As if you needed any more proof of Danny Ainge's genius. I mean, this is the man who brought us Planet Pollard.



I wouldn't trade last year's title for anything - honestly, I think I enjoyed it more than the '04 Sox team. But thinking back to the '07 draft, it's hard not to wonder what would have happened if the C's had gotten the first or second pick (as everyone, myself included, was praying for at the time).

Needless to say, I'm glad we didn't end up with Greg Oden's balky knees. But the other jewel of that draft ... well, here's all you need to know.

At least I have something to replace the 2012 countdown.

godspeed,
dk

P.S. - The 'longball' opus is still in production, because you can't rush perfection, by god

Posting is such sweet sorrow

Apologies to my faithful readers, I know I've been conspicuously absent from the world of virtual opinion lately. Take heart, though - I'm working on an epic, possibly multi-part treatise tying together virtually all elements of the American story (past, present and future). It's tentatively titled, "The Myth of the Longball."

(Note: My work on the piece marks the only time seeing Alex Rodriguez on television has inspired me to do something other than cuss or throw household objects at said television.)

Until my opus is complete, I'll tide you over with the below video. (Here's the back story to go along with it, for some added entertainment.)



godspeed,
dk

The sea was angry that day, my friends

In all quadrants, it seems, things are getting a little choppy.

Just finished watching the Celtics somehow pull out a win against Philly, a Ray Allen three from the corner with 0.5 seconds on the clock serving as the nail in the coffin. Aside from those last-second heroics, it was, I believe, the least entertaining basketball game I've ever watched. And that includes all the CLCF and travel league games I spent riding the pine.

First off, it was a total hack-fest. Just ugly, slow basketball with a seemingly non-stop parade of foolish turnovers and garbage fouls. The Sixers played with immense energy and physicality (with a little help from the jokers with the whistles) and led by 7 at their high point. The Celtics looked like they never got off the plane (19 turnovers, 7 by 'Ragin' Rajon Rondo) and ended up winning the game.

But it wasn't just the pace or style of the contest itself. At one point, one of the players knocked into some corporate scumbag sitting courtside and apparently knocked over the guy's beer. As the guy's idiot kid laughed hysterically, about a dozen ball boys descended on the spot with towels and mops.

TWO MINUTES LATER, play resumed. Seriously. And it felt even longer than that. Paul Piece was standing at the foul line just staring at them the whole time - not even angry or frustrated, just exhausted and incredulous. I was expecting a game of H-O-R-S-E to break out to pass the time and keep the crowd from falling asleep.

Wait ... the crowd was asleep. Or at least they were at the most critical moments. At the end of the first half - following a stretch in which the Sixers rallied from 15 down to briefly take the lead - the crowd went absolutely dead. All it took was a Rondo layup, and a deafening silence came over the arena. No parting ovation for the hometown team. Nothing.

Of course, the crowd was more than happy to get fired up when Andre Iguodala or Reggie Evans slapped the ball out of somebody's hands, ran down the court for a dunk and hung on the rim for about three seconds before dancing back to the bench.

What a sham. And I thought Philly was a quality, if disturbingly intense and angry, sports town.

At least the C's got the win, capping what had otherwise been a forgettable day-after-Groundhog Day. I was surfing the Web earlier this afternoon just in time to read that former senator Tom Daschle had withdrawn his name from consideration for the position of Secretary of Health and Human Services, by far the biggest stumble and most embarrassing moment of the still-young Obama Administration.

Why the hell can't these people pay their taxes? Perhaps even more unfortunate than Daschle is the case of Nancy Killefer, chosen to serve as the White House chief performance officer and deputy director at the Office of Management and Budget. As with Tim Geithner, it's another case of a person being entrusted with critical financial management responsibilities facing mortifying revelations about their apparent inability to fully manage their own finances.

I suppose if this is going to be the administration's big early unforced error, it's not such a bad thing. Given the enormity of current circumstances - and the appalling vacuum of leadership that preceded this president - one can understand some holes in the transition process, some missteps and oversights.

But given the importance this president places on symbolism, Tuesday must not have been a pleasant day for the White House's inner circle (and particularly whoever was in charge of the vetting process). With those pesky Republicans back up to their old tricks and gaining some traction politically, the president and his people will have to batten down the hatches and get back to being the Cool Express if they want to keep the inaugural afterglow working to their advantage.

Nominating New Hampshire Republican Judd Gregg as Commerce Secretary seems like a good start, a way to retake the mantle of bipartisanship while making a nifty partisan move and getting in John Boehner's head a little bit.

Although look out ... Sen. Gregg, in the words of a famous Cuban bandleader, may have some 'splainin' to do of his own.

Let's just hope this sideshow stuff doesn't get in the way of the president's progressive agenda. And let's hope that when he needs to get down and dirty - when he just straight up needs a win against the forces of Rush Limbaugh and his congressional minions - he can go cold-blooded like Ray Ray and hit the trey from the corner.

The sea was angry today, my friends. But I don’t think the hard stuff’s gonna come down for some time.

Secretly plotting your demise

With all the crises going on today in this crazy, mixed-up world, a man sometimes wonders why he doesn't just quit his job and live his dream of becoming a national shark rodeo champion.

There's the mortgage crisis, the economic crisis, the crisis in the Middle East. The impending food and water crises. Humanitarian crises across the globe, particularly in Africa. Mass layoffs, ice storms, climate change - you name it, it's in trouble.

Our home – Earth – is in grave danger.

And now, just in time for the sacred national holiday the No Fun League graciously allows us to call Super Sunday, a chicken wing crisis.



Clearly, our day devoted to the worship of lite beer, overeating and the violent ballet that is the gridiron will not be the same. Indeed, it may never be the same again. At least, I suppose, the Big Game will meet its doom while playing host to Sen. John "Death Proof" McCain's embarrassing Arizona Cardinals and the eternally annoying Pittsburgh Steelers.

This never would have happened if Tom Brady were still alive.



Hearing all this talk 'crisis' at every turn - even from Neil deGrasse Tyson, vis-à-vis a potential Deep Impact scenario - got me thinking.

What would happen if a real crisis - the proverbial doomsday scenario - actually went down? How would we react?

Would we be overcome by our most base survival instincts, discarding our morality and social mores in favor of a live-action Lord of the Flies-style grand finale? Or would we - at least some of us - band together and fight to the end, maintaining to the last that which makes us human?

The evidence, I realize, seems to point to the former. I think the picture of the Terrible Towel guy tells us all we need to know about human nature.

But you know what? I want to believe we're better than that. Yes, perhaps that's only because I turned the channel to Rocky IV this weekend just in time to see the immortal "If I can change, and you can change ..." speech. And yes, maybe I do harbor dreams of leading a utopian, post-apocalyptic society, which will require survivors of the finest ilk to realize.

I guess we'll just have to wait for Super Sunday to find out the answer to the most difficult equation since the one Matt Damon's character solved while mopping floors at MIT:

Mass quantities of alcohol + chicken wing shortage * most boring Super Bowl in recent memory = ____________

Until then, godspeed.
dk

Remember us, Mr. Bauer?

If the plight of Jack Bauer wasn't enough, here's some reinforcement for one of life's cardinal rules - don't mess with the Chinese government.

For your entertainment

What's the deal with prominent New Yorkers? First, Timothy Geitner - the man being entrusted with the U.S. Treasury Department - forgets to pay his taxes and runs into some legal issues with his hired help. Now, apparently, Caroline Kennedy - at least according to some sources - has run into the exact same problems.

Although, to be fair, I guess I shouldn't be one to throw stones.

And neither should this guy, apparently. That's just weird.

Or this guy. But I think we already knew that. Mr. Limbaugh is, indeed, more suited for being on the receiving end of such a transaction.



godspeed,
dk