Avdat

Happy Independence Day!

A visual update to a post I put up on The Ivy Bush three years ago:

Three things that make me feel like a radical othodox apostate patriotic:

This piece of music:

This sports moment:

And this speech:

Flopper fine

This should effectively strangle Greg Paulus's NBA career in the crib.  Slide over Chris, Nate and Wojo.  Another unemployed Dookie's gonna be needing a job soon.  HT.

You Tube Friday: Adolph Hitler edition

Warning:  All of these are rated R for language.

Number one:  Der Führer gets banned from Xbox Live:

Number two:  Hitler is no fan of Eli:

And saving the best (and most profane) for last, the generals break the news that Obama has clinched the nomination:

Send your kid to camp this summer

Amy, tell Brother John that this is one link that's safe to click through to.

Whuppin'

It was a great Final Four.  The best thing about Carolina getting their heads handed to them is that today, Tarheel Nation has formed a circular firing squad.  Guys were calling in saying "Roy's a choker!" and "That team he won with in '05 could have coached itself," and (this one is so rich) "Matt Doherty is a better recruiter than Roy." 

And check out this message board freakout over where Roy sat and the colors he was wearing Monday night.  (HT here and below:  StateFans Nation).  They sound like losers who got dumped and just spotted their ex sitting at the cool kids' table wearing the QB's letter jacket.

They all hate Roy today because, for painfully obvious reasons, Roy's the only man in Tarheel Nation who isn't spitting mad about the outcome in San Antonio.  So, in a weird sort of way, Carolina fans now know what was like for the Herb Haters a few years ago, who were beside themselves because their coach was satisfied with a 19 win season that also included blowout losses to Dook and Chapel Hill.

So, this little YouTube action is for all you insecure Tarheel fans whose bottoms are still a little bit sore after KU Rock Chalk Jayhawked your world Saturday night (warning, Roy's a bit less eloquent at the end than is appropriate for family viewing):

My sentiments exactly, Roy!

Hoops

Is it just me, or are there other college basketball fans out there seriously disturbed about the trend away from a bona fide tank top to a muscle shirt look?  What's next?  Short shorts?  Leggings?  The 80s were my decade, but some things need to be allowed to rest in peace.

They've done gone meta

Pathetic.

They aren't even whining about which team's more badly hurt.  They're whining about which coach whines the most about it. 

Meta-whining?

And so I ask all you little Smurfs and Dookies out there, Is it worth it?  I can see the attraction in being a Homer for such successful programs, but at what point does the little shred of self-respect left in you stand up and say, I will not salute and say Yes Sir! when such small, self-absorbed crybabies pull their pacifiers out of their mouths and let ER rip in front of the microphones?

And I will say to Roy in particular, There is a game tonight.  I hope you're preparing your team to play it and win it instead of sponging tissue off of them because K hurt your feelings. 

I'm not making any predictions, mind you.  I saw what happened in Chapel Hill last month, and I've seen what's transpired since then.  I'm just saying, There is a game tonight.  And it's not against Dock.

super scintillating sensational

In lieu of original blogging, let me simply recap all the important points I made to Brother John--Republican, Carolina fan, Patriot fan--the other night on the phone.  Most importanty, it's great that Dick Vitale is back.  So what if he is a homer for Dook, knows nothing about college basketball, and at times delivers what can only be described as incoherent color commentary?  Vitale is the happiest man on TV.  He's a manic version of that other, extraordinarily happy Italian entertainer, Tony Bennett.  How can you not get caught up in his sheer joy, his 8-year-old giddy excitement every time there's a jump ball?

All you people outside the ACC footprint got to hear Vitale ooh and ahh Thursday night.  We got to hear Billy Packer. 

And let me stop you right there.  Packer is not a shill for Dook.  Nor is he a shameless panderer to UNC.  Take it from a State fan like me, who must listen to endless kvetching from the whiny, never-satisfied, occasionally paranoid, massively insecure (despite their program's respective records), and equally massively entitled fans of both schools about how the little bald ex-point guard from Wake is, like, so unfair to Tyler Hansbrough, or Greg Paulus or whoever.  You're both wrong.

Packer is a jerk.  That's all.  He hates Dook.  And he hates Carolina.  He hates everybody.  Not with the intensity and gay man cattiness that, say, Dick Button hates all the figure skaters who've come after him.  But he knows a lot about basketball.  Which makes him all the more infuriating to you Dookies and little Smurfs. 

So, given the choice between colorful color commentary, and snide, vindictive, but largely accurate analysis, give me color.  Give me Vitale, baby! 

(Although I do have to admit that if there's a guy out there that both Hitler and Stalin hate, then I can't be all that opposed to him.)

Father Wejus thank you for dem New York Giants

God's will?

Matt Yglesias isn't so sure.

I was going to write this long, thoughtful humorous post in response, but the comment thread covers all the relevant issues--God's providence, the specter of determinism, good versus evil, pride, humility, and false humility--albeit with the snark and torching of straw men that one would expect in a blog comment thread.

For my money, the most theologically troubling aspect of the Super Bowl is the lying spirit that the Lord dispatched to the Patriots' sidelines, to seduce Belichick into going for it on 4th and 13 rather than settling for a long field goal.  It does trouble me whenever the Almighty appears to dabble in the dark arts, even for the entirely noble reason of stopping The Hooded One.

Two great tastes that taste great together

What's the harder wall to hit?  Mile 20 in any given marathon, or...

downing the eighth doughnut of the dozen you must consume at the halfway point of the Krispy Kreme Challenge?

Even hashing looks like a bona fide athletic event compared to this.

It's another reason to be proud of my alma mater, even in basketball season.

There's still time to register!