:: Wow, uh, somehow even though I was joking about this prospect yesterday, I honestly did not think that Funky Winkerbean’s next hilariously grim twist would be a terrible car crash. (So...is Funky dead? Sleepin'? Pinin' for the fjords? Who knows!)
:: Look, I'll admit it--not every forgotten Golden Age hero is worthy of a modern revival. Sometimes, they're just, well, really lame.
:: I wish this didn't have to be stated. But nothing about this journal should indicate to you that I will be in any way receptive to your effusive love for objectivism, nor your dismissal of other humans who do not live up to your libertarian ideals. Because frankly, I find it unlikely that you yourself are a tower of industry, walking alone like Eliot's fucking cat through this fallen world of people not as awesome as you. We all need each other, I'm not your Dagny, and John Galt is a fuckmuppet of the first order.
:: LOVE STORY 2050 is one of the most melodramatic and cringe-inducing science fiction romance movies I’ve ever seen, but it’s also the most heartfelt and well intentioned. (A Bollywood science fiction romance movie? I gotta track this down, pronto!)
:: It's been a summer that has been marked by two bad sports calls-- the disallowed goal in the USA-Slovenia game and the nearly perfect game pitched by Armando Galarraga, and in both instances various commentators have used the event to call for replacing or supplementing the human official with some sort of technology. I'm not so sure I think that's a good idea, but after years of taking testimony in tort cases I am pretty convinced that people are bad at describing what they saw-- and that their descriptions are a poor basis for assigning liability. (It's like clockwork, really -- every time I read about some guy getting released from prison after XX years because DNA evidence finally ruled him out as a suspect, the story always says: "He was convicted on eyewitness testimony.")
:: I always thought I'd be flattered to have a photo good enough to be stolen. But it really doesn't feel so hot. (But what an amazing photo! What an item! I never thought there could be such a thing. I never even thought to think that there could be such a thing.)
:: I was in Anaheim Stadium the day Seattle outfielder, Kevin Mitchell (pictured left) ate a chili dog during a game and threw up in the dugout so violently that he went on the disabled list for two weeks with strained ribs. (Holy crap, I never heard of that before. That may be my new favorite stupidly self-inflicted sports injury, surging ahead of quarterback Gus Frerotte who was celebrating a touchdown pass by banging his head on a padded wall, resulting in an injury to his neck, and kicker Bill Gramatica, who celebrated a field goal by jumping up and down so hard that he tore his own ACL.)
Enough for this week. Tune in next!