Sunday Burst of Weirdness

After last week's bumper crop of Weirdness, followed by the fact that yesterday was April Fool's Day and thus saw tons of Weirdness on the Web, I'm at a loss as to what to link today. Roxanne had a spoof of a popular right-wing blog; Alan rejiggered his masthead image a bit (you have to be up on your New York State politics to get the joke); and over at Making Light, there's a big grab-bag of April Fool's stuff from around the Interweb.

I did try something for April Fools myself, but it was something of a misfire: I concealed a link on the main page of the blog to a post that I stashed somewhere in my back archives, which in turn linked to a photo of me doing something unusual. (No, not that. This is a PG-13 blog, for Christ's sake!) My idea was that the link would be an "Easter Egg", like all the cool DVDs have nowadays -- except that I obviously hid the thing too well, because to my knowledge nobody noticed it at all. Oops. I'll file that idea away for next year, then.

Anyhow, since the Major League Baseball season starts tonight (sorry, Lance, but the game tonight counts in the standings, so it's real), here's an article about a possible new baseball pitch called the "Gyroball". Problem is, nobody's sure the "Gyroball" even exists. But if it did, it might start tilting the balance of power in the game back toward the pitchers after decades of advances in hitting. (Of course, one could argue that the steroid crackdown could accomplish the same thing.)

(As for my thoughts on baseball this year: the Pirates will stink again, so who cares; Barry Bonds -- once my favorite player -- can bite me; and...well, that's about it. I used to absolutely adore baseball, and maybe one day I will again. For now, I only follow it very casually. A shame, really, because it's such a beautiful game and it's got so much amazing history behind it. I'm left feeling like the last really genuine moment I saw in baseball was Joe Carter's home run that won the 1993 World Series for the Blue Jays. Next year came the strike, and after that, just one moment after another that seemed brilliant and wondrous at the time but later felt false.

I'd like real baseball back. The time between football seasons is long enough without it.)