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A True Poet

2 Oct

“To be a poet, I realized, a true poet, was to become the Avatar of humanity incarnate; to accept the mantle of poet is to carry the cross of the Son of Man, to suffer the birth pangs of the Soul-Mother of Humanity.

To be a true poet is to become God.

I tried to explain this to my friends on Heaven’s Gate. ‘Piss, shit,’ I said. ‘Asshole motherfucker, goddamn shit goddamn. Cunt. Pee-pee cunt. Goddamn!’

They shook their heads and smiled, and walked away. Great poets are rarely understood in their own day.”

- Dan Simmons, Hyperion

Indeed. I wrote a few poems myself Sunday night.

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A Cult Of Pain

26 Sep

 

“The girl with the short hair shook her head vehemently. ‘But we won’t! One in a hundred, one in a thousand, goes all the way, all the way through. The rest of us keep pretending we’re happy, or else just go numb. We suffer, but not enough. And so we suffer for nothing.’

‘What are we supposed to do,’ said Tirin, ‘go hit our heads with hammers for an hour every day to make sure we suffer enough?’

‘You’re making a cult of pain,’ another said. ‘An Odonian’s goal is positive, not negative. Suffering is dysfunctional, except as a bodily warning against danger. Psychologically and socially it’s merely destructive.'”

- Ursula K. LeGuin, The Dispossessed

Ursula LeGuin is awesome. Read that shit. Start with The Telling.

Here’s a cool thing from Scientific American about humans and pattern recognition. The article talks about the superstition that arises from false pattern recognition – belief that an image of Jesus appeared in your toast, or the face on Mars – and the idea that these “false negatives” arose from natural selection. The argument, basically, is that if we hear rustling in the brush, and we’re scared of it, there are two possibilities: it’s a fucking tiger, or it’s not. If it’s a tiger, we’re more prepared to deal with it if we assume the rustling means danger. If it’s just wind, there is no harm in a moment of irrational fear. So we see patterns everywhere, and because there’s no evolutionary control for assuming a pattern when it doesn’t exist, we have no mechanism for toning that shit down when it’s completely unnecessary. So, sometimes, we look at a burnt tortilla and see the Buddha. Or whatever.

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Unbeliever

19 Sep

“The man refuses to believe that what he is told is true. He asserts that he is either dreaming or hallucinating, and declines to be put in the false position of fighting to the death where no “real” danger exists. He is implacable in his determination to disbelieve his apparent situation, and does not defend himself when he is attacked by the champion of the other world.

Question: Is the man’s behavior courageous or cowardly?”

- Stephen R. Donaldson, Lord Foul’s Bane

Every football fan is different, but there are patterns of behavior that we all follow, common theories to which we subscribe, formed from a need for explanation or comfort or a masochist desire to punish oneself, ostensibly for liking the wrong team when he or she was 10 years old and dooming himself or herself to a life of pain. I mean, if we’re going to be melodramatic. It’s been a melodramatic week, so why the hell not?

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The Fool Saint

12 Sep

 

“He is the fool saint,
The golden stranger living forever
On the edge of reason.
Let your guard fall and he is there!
His crimson peace and sovereign pallor
Strike into our universe on prophetic webs
To the verge, of a quiet glance — there!
Out of bristling star-jungles:
Mysterious, lethal, an oracle without eyes,
Catspaw of prophecy, whose voice never dies!”

- Frank Herbert, “The Ghola’s Hymn,” Dune Messiah

Wait, is there a pattern here? Oh, yes. Yes there is. I won’t bother explaining all the ways “The Fool Saint” works as a title this week, because if you haven’t read Dune and Dune Messiah (yes, Messiah too) it isn’t even worth it. Seriously, what the fuck, people?

Last week I made a prediction:

“…every week will bring a new thing, an event you haven’t seen before; most of them will be great, some unpleasant, but all memorable.”

Nailed it!

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Stuff Your Eyes With Wonder

29 Aug

 

“‘Stuff your eyes with wonder,’ he said, ‘live as if you’d drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It’s more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal. And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day every day, sleeping its life away. To hell with that,’ he said, ‘shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass.'”

-Ray Bradbury, Farenheit 451

 

Hi. Sorry about that whole not-posting-during-the-entire-preseason thing. Historically, my preseason blog posts are uninspired and unentertaining. So, you know, fuck that.

I pledged this year to wait until after the final game. There were too many non-football Distractions – Hard Knocks, work, life, preseason games – to focus properly on the season ahead. Now that the fake stuff is over, it’s time to get ready for the real thing.

So here we are. I’ll spare you the boring stuff; only one preseason game really serves as any kind of an indicator (as much as any preseason game can) and the GOAT over at Girod Street Endzone covered it better than I ever could have. The last game, a game Wang once called the final fake-ass dog and pony show of the lyingest month of them all, is utterly worthless. Here, without bothering with a proper segue, is the pre-preseason post from SaintsWin, in case you missed it. And with that, I move on.

The real thing is just over a week away, and the real thing promises to be glorious. The season ahead, ladies and gentlemen, is the shit dreams are made of. Of course it’s easy for any fan to get excited when everyone’s undefeated and hope springs eternal and other appropriate but painful clichés, but I sincerely cannot remember a team that was quite this exciting this very early in the process.

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Hard Knocks, Episode 1

5 Aug

I’m too drunk to write anything. Here’s my notes. I’ll write things about football after the football Friday. This is The Year.

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Preseason Is Stupid, or Why Football Is Better Than Bear Fighting

5 Sep

Sorry for the prolonged absence. Preseason. Preseason is quite stupid. But it’s over now, and we survived unscathed!

Well, except for all the injuries. And the return to vintage 2012 defensive football in week three against the Texans, or whatever melodramatic nonsense you’re in the mood to put out there right now. But we’ll get to that. First, let’s focus on the positive developments we’ve seen since my last post a month ago.

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The Hippest Fluidity

31 Mar

Barkevious Mingo 0.5, reportedly

Yeah, I’m still here. No, sit down. You’re too kind. I haven’t written enough this offseason, so here’s a largely link-free stream-of-thought post on the offseason so far. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, google it. I shouldn’t have to do ALL the work around here.

Thesis statement! This fucking offseason is taking forever.

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Here

4 Jan

I even got all fancy and shit with some MS Paint action #bling

A Shocking Inevitability

12 Nov

Saints Shock NFL With Win Over Falcons.

It’s in the books now, and the New Orleans Saints have shocked the Atlanta Falcons

…they stopped Atlanta twice in the final few minutes of Sunday’s game to shock the previously unbeaten Falcons

Shocked? Who the fuck was shocked? What league have you been watching for the last six years? You’re pretty easily shocked if you’re shocked by something that happens for the eleventh time in the last thirteen possible times it could have happened.

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