June 2006

“To announce that there must be no criticism of the president, or that we are to stand by the president right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public.”
no one of any import

why didn't i think of this?

(ignore the fact it's a mac or the fact that it's on a mac-zealotry page.)

when anxiety strikes, it's good to know there are still happy places one can go. one of mine is playing an intense game of sweaty, dirty, hot co-ed soccer with infinite scoring opportunities and many lines crossed back and forth.

you can't see me, but i'm just outside the frame on the left, on D, about to get attacked. it's a pity how it's always D that takes the heat, isn't it…careful about those 'tween-the-legs passes, now…focus…


(click to pop)

“beckenbauer? hahahaha…whoa.”

ah, the memories of childhood.

angola's loco and sswweddenn'ss wwilliammssonn

i waste egregious amounts of time parsing so you don't have to.  enjoy.

goalie goal

compilation of goodies

now that's just goofy

le jeu vient en premier


and now, for some real m4d skillz:

soccer sitting down.  and i don't mean on a couch or down the pub, watching the world cup, playing soccer vicariously over a proscribed liquid-bread beverage.

i don't got game like she's got game.  i doubt i ever will.  nor will the lot of you.

what is this magical sticky shoe compound that turns soccer balls into giant non-bouncy foot-bags?  can you see the strings?  watch closely.  oh, that's right, snap!–there are none.

traffic cones, the lot of 'em

mr. woo–on a not unrelated note, how come you never see the harlem globetrotters play in the NBA?


and last but not least (actually, i would say this is a case of best-left-for-last):

jhana, not joga. 

quick!  wiki-wiki!  read this wikipedia entry for chinlone, then view the clips on the Mystic Ball documentary site.  1500 years of this stuff, and england is all haughty about making a field and inventing some straightforward rules for it.  i think calling this "freestyle soccer" is just wrong.  in terms of breakneck skill, what parkour is to cross-country running, chinlone is to soccer.  beautiful game, my ass…this is like watching the sports version of baraka.  

methinks watching the world cup is going to be a little anticlimactic now that this stuff is etched in my psyche.  you rule, Burma!  well, except for that oppressive bitch of a military junta thang, and that little Burmese Way To Socialism thang–btw, that socialism word you keep using…i do not think it means what you think it means…Inigo Montoya would like a word with you, military junta, i think you killed his father.  prepare to die. 

what i should have said is that, not unlike in brazil, with its potent mix of extreme poverty (speaking of which) and extreme futsal, your people–your empoverished, crushed people–rule.  with a rattan ball.  too sick.

a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, there was a series of awesome shitty-beer commercials (as opposed to awesome, shitty beer-commercials, which wouldn't make sense), based on chuck stone's original short.  the cultural landscape was changed when when it came to greetings,  irrevocably.  or at least for a relatively long while.  you can still hear echos of…

and a one, and a two, and a three, and wasabi, and a five, and a six, and a seven.

low-tech post-modern bricolage/homage/mockery inevitably followed.

now, several years later, something much in the same vein as the superfriends bit above. 

(p.s.  last year's superbowl produced some really good swill commercials also.  like the one with the bear.  and the one with the magical fridge.)

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