Archive for the uncategorized Category

Now … that’s better.

Posted in uncategorized on December 1, 2007 by mrbitterness

Ah, words I don’t have to crane forward to read.

Plus, the changeover reminded me I wanted to replace the custom header. Now, it features my alma mater’s football team, the Panthers. We’re the maroon guy, with a wall of Other barreling down on us.

Kind of the way I feel most of the time, actually.

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Eww … that’s hard to read!

Posted in uncategorized on December 1, 2007 by mrbitterness

To the blessed handful who read the lower casefiles, I apologize for the look these last few days. I was playing with themes on WordPress and forgot to check the one i settled on for readability issues.

And boy does this one have some. I can hardly read the type, and even the masthead is small enough to be overlooked. I’m not saavy enough to make all the CSS changes LGF is always rattling on about.

I’ll just go pick something else … preferably with legible font sizes. I just hope I haven’t run off the three readers I’d accumulated.

Posted in uncategorized on October 25, 2003 by mrbitterness

The Saudis have pledged to send “tourists” in the range of 300 per month to Iraq. This is the Arab world’s idea of rebuilding Iraq, to build a new Islamist totalitarian regime there where Hussein once tortured his people in the name of Baath. Does this scare anyone else?CollegeClub.com

Posted in uncategorized on October 17, 2003 by mrbitterness

It’s going into the bottom of the eleventh in the Red Sox/Yankees game, tied at five. But, as much as I want to root against the Yankees, I can’t bring myself to eagerly root for Boston to get what the Cubs Nation was denied.

So, I’ll share the recurring dream I’ve had since the Cubs lost Game 6 and I learned the name of the poor schmuck that intervened in the Cubs shot at redemption.

The North Side sleeps in the wee hours, every shellshocked closed after a miserable night. I alone, in my first trip to Chicago, wander the streets, disbelieving the horrible irony I’d witnessed.

Finding the tallest building in the vicinity of Wrigleyville, I make my way to the rooftop. In a confusing flash, I’m atop the jutting chimney, clad only in faded blue jeans and a battered Cubs hat, primal as the Goat that embodies our misery.

Then, with a baritone deep and loud enough to wake the ghost of Three Fingers Brown, I speak the name given to every Cubs-fans’ distress:

BaarrtMaaaaaaaan!

Across Wrigleyville, windows light up, like eyes painfully woken from the dreamy sleep of Nothingness.

It’s alright Steve. You did exactly what most of us would have done. But damn, why did you have to do it then?

Posted in uncategorized on October 17, 2003 by mrbitterness

thanks to Gregg Easterbrook, ESPN.com’s Tuesday Morning Quarterback and Brookings Scholar, I’ve grown fond of haikus again.

the other day, I was taking a cigarette break and got 17-syllabically poetic about my job as a database manager for a job-search outreach in Alabama’s Black Belt (one of the poorest parts of the nation).

Mountains of data:

Sob stories, by the bootstraps,

Every file a life.

Not too much in retrospect, but it seemed poignant to me at the time.

Also, a bit about the event most dominating my dark thoughts today

Marlins in seven.

Cubs’ dreams dashed the night before

Bad times for Bartman.

10-year-old Marlins

Dress two Series in gauche Teal.

There is no justice.

Posted in uncategorized on October 16, 2003 by mrbitterness

I did everything I could think of. I knocked wood, I broke out the old t-shirts, I made certain the baby was watching, just like she had been during the Division Series.

I’ve even resisted writing about the Cubs this year, wary of a repeat of 2001, when my presumptious early August newspaper column seemed to trigger the Cubs slide back to the middle of the standings (that’s what we deserved for getting stoked about Fred McGriff).

But this year it all came together. It was gonna be. No more next year.

Now, though, it’s Thursday morning. Sammy’s starting to pack for his yearly migration to the Dominican. A little later than usual, but not late enough.

Where we once had only the dull ache of decades of what-ifs, now we have a face for our misery.

Steve Bartman.

I can’t really blame him, I guess. If the ball was coming to me, I’d have probably been locked in to it, too. But I would have already thought a lot about my seat. That close to the field, you gotta have a plan. I’d have already thought about how not to lose my head in case of one of those blistering foul balls. The one that was in play would have been an easy choice: get out of the way.

I know he’s heartbroken too, especially since he no longer has any friends, most likely, and half of Chicago wants him dead. But he had the headphones on. Radio listeners know the game better — that’s a fact. So, logically, he should have known better.

But he didn’t. It wasn’t his fault. It was Gonzo’s, for booting Pudge’s grouder. It was Dusty’s, for leaving Prior and Wood in for so much longer than necessary (especially considering one of the league’s best LONG relievers, Remlinger, sat in the bullpen). It was Kerry’s, it was Mark’s, and it all doesn’t matter.

It IS over.

The blame game isn’t nearly as much fun as an October ballgame. We know that now.

So, yet again, though we hoped we wouldn’t have to say it:

Wait til Next Year.

This Kobe Bryant thing … I don’t know what to sa…

Posted in uncategorized on October 7, 2003 by mrbitterness

This Kobe Bryant thing … I don’t know what to say. As a reporter, I’m well versed in the ways of rape-shield laws. We don’t mention the name of an alleged rape victim: period.

Rape is an insidious crime which can alter a woman’s entire life: I understand that. So, we should take every effort to be sure that the victim is not victimized.

But what if she’s lying?

That’s what strikes me about Kobe’s situation. Everything I read about the controversy centers on the defense losing yet another decision, being denied yet another piece of evidence.

Based on published reports, I can’t figure out how Kobe’s lawyers can mount any kind of defense besides the Lakers’ former Golden Child taking the stand, saying “I didn’t do it,” then making a jumpshot into the jury box.

There’s a difference between shielding the victim and tipping the scales.

What if she’s lying?

Seems like a pretty lucrative business: sleeping with an NBA player, then crying rape. She must be aware of the scads of money in Kobe’s bank account. And her lawyer probably knows that, regardless of the facts, she’ll get the benefit of the doubt. Kobe’s defense team won’t get a chance to regard the facts, because they won’t have access to them.

I don’t know Kobe; I’ve never covered Kobe. I don’t even care for the Lakers. I just know that, the further this criminal situation goes, the more it looks like Kobe is doomed.

It’s hard to make a winning shot when you don’t have a leg to stand on.