Feds: 1, Gamblers: 0

TheBostonChannel.com has an amazing article regarding the gambling proclivities of WWII vets at a local American Legion. Now the title of this post is misleading. The action taken against the Legion veterans was purported solely by state officials. However, the Federal Government is leaving the state governments a tree-lined golden road to follow when dealing with gambling.

There is but one place in America when sports-betting is legal. Well, that one place (Vegas) and every bookie gearing up for Saturday's next big race. But one can't bet online, nor can one even play online poker for money anymore. Of course, there's no system set up yet that monitors the adventures of office pools during the NCAA basketball tournament or punishes the frequent back-room poker deals on Friday nights in the midst of chips and beer.

Yeah, it's one hell of a golden road.

Let the vets have their fun. They can't get it up, they can't drive, and they've got double the amount of skin they possessed when 20 years old. Let them gamble!

There will be Oscar!

Another PT Anderson film starring Daniel Day-Lewis?



There will be Blood opens two days after Christmas and promises to be a scintillating character piece set in the dust and oil soaked riches of early 1900s California. This film reminds me a lot of Carnivale, a startling story set in the Dust Bowl filled with characters so full of personality that with just one moment of insight leaves one wanting to see their entire story again and again.

The trailer comes and gives us a mouth-wateringly brief look:



As the world of TV crashes down around us, we have something beautiful to look forward to!

I Just Don't Understand, Copperfield

David Copperfield, illusionist to the stars, has recently been accused of rape. And now the FBI is storming his "compound." They found, among other things 2 million dollars in cash.

Two questions arise:

1. Who in the hell has 2 million in cash?

(1 addendum: I want to be that person)

2. Why is the FBI investigating a rape? Because the accused is a celebrity? Because of jurisdictional cross-overs? I'd love to know, truly.

Please Examine the Following

Sadly, I had hoped to present a battle of two trailers. However, I can only do this.

Imagine a trailer devoid of comedy, detailing almost every moment of dull, vapid humor in, ironically, a soon-to-be release comedy.

I couldn't find the above trailer.

Now imagine a trailer full of wit and charm, edited and paced so well that even if the plot (cautiously detailed, but never so much that the entire show is given away even though we all know where it's going anyway) didn't appeal, one just be enticed to venture forth to the movie being advertised.

Now I could find this one:


Surprisingly, both trailers I urged you to imagine advertise the same movie, Dan in Real Life. The first trailer I saw on TV a few months ago and thought, "Oh God, Steve, what are you doing?!" The second trailer I saw last night in theatre and thought, "Steve, where've you been all my life. You were funny, poignant and deliciously edited. I want to see Dan in Real Life!"

I also had to think to myself, "I want to see a movie with Dane Cook it."

Fingers crossed there's still a God.

Abortion as Contraception

I was recently reminded of a statement a friend of mine made. She said, and I quote: "I hate the fact that some people use abortion as a form of contraception." At the time, I didn't give the comment much thought at all. As it was made within a debate I was only listening to, I only noted it and passed right on by. However, now that it's come once again to my attention and I can actually think about it (when I first heard the comment, I was just slightly sauced), I am struck by the stupidity of it.

Here's my logic: I guarantee that no woman would ever, EVER choose to ignore condoms or birth control in favor of always having abortion as a nice out, tucked away in a secret pocket. Granted that in these oh-so-hedonistic times of ours, both sexes are flippant about sex, assuming the condom, the birth control pill, or the morning-after pill will all or selectively combine to form one great super power that will deny the unwanted/unplanned baby's existence. And, within that casual manner (indeed, casual may just be the much more appropriate word here when it comes to describing our society's views regarding sex), abortion is seen as a stop-gap. They take their precaution. They still have their sex. ('Cause it is good, oh so very good.) Something happens, they take care of it if they want to (and if it is truly an it). Morality aside, logic reigns. Logic that is allowed existence in our world.

And yet the statement in question is still made with conviction: "I hate the fact that some people use abortion as a form of contraception."

The person who made this statement is absolutely right, there are some people who use abortion as a form of contraception. Yet I'd wager those people are the ones who don't have the money for reliable sorts of contraception (birth control), the education to know what sorts of contraception are available or even how to use them if procured (birth control is complicated and condoms are...scary), or were raised in a culture that views sex and everything associated with it (contraception) as evil.

Hormones are powerful. Kids will have sex. It's hot, it's sexy, sticky, weird, fun, awkward, and they will have it.

Teach your kid to appreciate the power and the meaning behind sex. That it's important and meaningful. But, for God's sake (really), teach them to be careful.

Sexual organs get aroused. A hand goes here, a hand goes there. Something slips, something gets pulled. And the sex will take place. Wouldn't it be better they be prepared?

"Don't have sex little Bobby. But let's be real, little Susie is a hot little number, here's a condom. If it happens, it happens. Be careful, be honest."

"Don't have sex little Susie. But let's be real, Bobby's quite a catch and, well, he seems quite the big kid. You guys are dating, here's a pill I think you should take. Be careful and let us know how things are going."

"Sarah? Sarah, you like Susie? You've got such good taste, honey. You take so much after your mother."

(Lesbians just have it right.)

Wouldn't it be better if everyone had the education and the available funds to be as well prepared as we all think the kids in this society are? Condoms are free, but who teaches both little boys and girls how to use them? I know my University has some pretty fun sex ed classes. But, the kids we're worried about largely aren't at my University. And those who are at my University are the ones picketing the sex ed class, holding up pictures of feti (the plural of fetuses, in my book).

Getting kids the education and the money needed to be prepared in a world full of sex will first happen through the government - though we, as well-informed constituents, have to elect the right people for that job. However, breaking the stranglehold that certain religions *cough*Christianity*cough* have over everyone within their grasp happens somewhere much further down the line. God only knows where it is (I'm positive He does), but for the changes we hope for in the government to take effect universally, the break has to happen.

Abortion is only used as a form of contraception because we, as a nation crippled by misguided and misinterpreted Christian morals that began the definition of our history, cannot escape a history so grossly misunderstood today. We need to fund education. We need universal access and education.

What part of "be in the world but not of the world" do these people not understand?

In High Definition, No Less

A highlight reel of the game I described last night.

And yet again I say, How Awesome!

Exciting MNF!

I am getting all excited about a football game.

A football game I'm watching over the internet.

Well...not watching. Reading a streaming blog. This is what one does for Fantasy Football. Boring? Nay!

I came out of my Sunday matchup down by a measly 3 points. I had nothing to fear with 3 players in tonight's game: Dallas Cowboys vs. the Buffalo Bills. And those three players were on the undefeated Cowboys - the electric quarterback Tony Romo, stalwart running back Marion Barber III and decent receiver Crayton.

AND, to cap it all off, my opponent had no players in tonight's game. I was assured the win. By many, many points!

However, my goodness, however!

I come off of a conversation with my girl and discover this staggering statistic: Tony Romo has 5 interceptions and a fumble. This puts me 12 points in the hole (each give-away is negative two points). And with only meager yardage and one touchdown between my 3 players, this situations puts me in a very tenuous lead over my stagnant opponent. Not to mention the fact that the Cowboys are about to be shocked by the upset Bills. Also not to mention that two of Romo's give-aways come in the fourth quarter, both on sure-scoring drives.

But how's this for a finish? Dallas is down by eight points and with 25 seconds left to go in the game scores a touchdown to cut the Bills' lead to 2 (all the while adding to my TD and yardage point gains, wahoo!). Dallas then attempts a two-point conversion which is no good! But how no-good was it? Terrell Owens, receiver to the stars (haha), has the conversion, but the ball is stripped away by a Bills defender. Dallas is still losing by 2.

Dallas then kicks off but attempts the onside kick and gets it back! Romo marches the Cowboys (adding up his wonderful yardage total, might I add) and just barely gets the ball down within reasonable field goal range with 2 seconds left to go. A rookie kicker, Folk, comes on and nails the winning field goal!!

But Buffalo called a timeout right before the kick!

So, Folk comes out AGAIN and nails the winning field goal....AGAIN!!

I win, Cowboys win. Buffalo...well, they lose. The poor Bills, they can never do anything quite right. ...but Tony Romo sure can. Boy howdy.

This is the wonderful thing about Fantasy Football: peaks interest in otherwise uninteresting games. I would have read about this game in tomorrow's papers. But now I followed the excitement in as live a fashion as I could manage. And I'll be aching to see this game, somehow.

Awesome.

I'm going to bed after geeking all over the place. Cleanup tomorrow.

Death by Mosquitoes

The crazy thing about summertime in the south the hordes of mosquitoes come rolling on by. In my youth they were but an annoyance. Yet now they are harbingers of death.

Well, at least harbingers of death for birds and horses. Maybe cows and other four legged animals two. Though, I do believe the thing has killed people in the past. Or given them nasty stomach aches. So despite the sound logical reality that I am quite the healthy young man, I cannot help but wonder if, every time I step outdoors, winged death might be flying towards me.

It might be the second day of October, but glory be to North Carolina, it is 82 degrees at the time of 10:32 PM. And whilst reclining outside, reading my pulpy fiction, no less that 10 mosquitoes had their way with me.

During each one of those buys I pondered that one, if not all, of those flying monsters might be carrying my death in their fangs...proboscis...probosci?

I think of death, rub my bite(s), and continue reading.

About Me

This is me. This is PS. Not all of me.

But, gosh darn't, a whole heck of a lot.

8 Things Meme

Thankfully Mr. "fabulous" QTA himself still believes in me and has tagged me in this meme of randomness.

I desperately needed the kick in the ass. I can't begin to tell you how thankful I am to write something with a degree of a focus.

THE RULES
1. All right, here are the rules.
2. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
3. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
4. People who are tagged write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
5. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

And away we go:

1. If I have the opportunity to rid myself of shoes and socks, I will take that opportunity with gusto. And if no such opportunity can be had, I will do my damnedest to create one. Even with the possibility, nay even probability, of stepping on stones or the random yellow jacket, there is nothing greater than walking barefoot and feeling every inch of the earth or house as one walks or runs.

2. The closest I ever came to getting kicked out of my parents house was during Wimbledon's celebration of Martina Navratalova's singles career. I was watching with enthused interest that day because I love tennis and sadly never got to see Martina play live in her heyday. My father made some flippant, deprecating comment regarding her sexuality/tennis career and I exploded at what was, to this day, the most ignorant thing I ever heard my father say. Fireworks notwithstanding, I've never heard him say anything like that again.

3. Though I trained for 10 years to be a baseball pitcher, I can't stand watching the sport. It's fun to play and incredibly engaging intellectually. But never was there a sport more disenchanting to watch as a bystander. And I even get everything that's going on. Nonetheless, I still enjoy (read: miss) playing baseball and wonder if I could have truly been as good as my dad always said. No doubt, no - but it's still nice to dream.
(Update: Injured my shoulder yet again! The dream dies daily, long live the dream.)
(I jest, truly.)

4. There are only two movies that have brought me to sobbing tears: Mighty Joe Young and A Little Princess.
I watched 1949's Mighty Joe Young when I was ten years old. It was a bright summer day and I was about to go outside when this huge gorilla appeared on screen. I hadn't seen King Kong at that point, so of course the sight of this gigantic ape kept me saddled on my bed for the next 2 hours. When the movie reached it's zenith, I couldn't understand what was happening onscreen. Joe's death shocked me as nothing has ever since and I was broken to tears. I still remember in vivid detail the last five minutes of Mighty Joe Young; maybe not exactly what was happening in the film but definitely my reactions to it.
A Little Princess walked into my life when I was a bit older, a bit more mature at the ripe age of fourteen. Yet however wearing those four years were, they did nothing to prepare me for the extreme pathos I experienced during Alfonso Cuaron's film. I watched A Little Princess in my family's living room, hunkered down in my favorite reclining chair which was pulled into the middle of the room. As the movie wore on I was worn down. By the film's rapturous end, I was sobbing via the pure punch of cartharsis. It was at this point that I realised I had a heady amount of empathy, sympathy, and (damn't) raging pathos pumping through my body. And that was a happy moment in time.

5. I am infatuated with zombies. To give a requisite amount of context, I'm really not that much of a horror fan. There's obviously a certain amount of a "cool" factor when it comes to gore and good frights. However, being scared silly is definitely not my priority in life. That being said, though, over the past seven years I have become increasingly interested with not only zombies but others' similar fascination with the horror. Shockingly obvious is my interest in death and the unholiest part of death, the living dead. I seem to be that morbid. More than that, however, is my curiosity regarding the surging popularity of the undead and what it means not only about, but for the society that dreams up and prolongs such horrors.

6. I was recently called a Tool geek. Andrew the Great called me one. I love you, too, Andrew. Tool, if you don't know, is the most intellectually satisfying hard rock band out there. In my most humble of opinions, of course. Along with my love of Tool, I adore Queen. I can never really call Tool my favorite band because of Queen. They exist together as the two dominant musical forces in myself. And, together, they unite to stand as my monolithic standard-barer of eclectic/perfect/damn good taste. Freddie: how I wish I knew you when you were still alive. Maynard: you fucking rocked in Winston-Salem on the 13th of June!


7. I don't understand religious fervor. From the Christians, from the Jews, and from the Muslims. Believe there's only one way to eternal joy and happiness. I do myself. I even call myself a Christian - sour taste and all. Yet why does everyone care what everyone else believes in? For the first time in my life, kinda, I really don't get something of humanity. I can't wrap my head around it. Of course, maybe it isn't human. Maybe it's just evil, this inability to act with love in the world. 'Cause that's what fervor is, a lack of love. As I recently said to the girl, God especially said not to judge, He never said anything about not loving too much.
I've also come to the conclusion that I like to love. It's a hell of a lot more enjoyable than the many, many alternatives.

8. I once hated Harry Potter. From the minute it came out, I couldn't abide the fanfare and the "childish" magic of the series. I even took my hatred so far as to argue with folks on the internet about the book without even reading it. And the movies. The movies didn't help matters at all. It took 6 years before I finally read the first book. I was justified! Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone was pedantic and horrifically childlike. Then things changed. I met this girl, see. The girl. And she liked Harry Potter. No, she LOVED Harry Potter and the entire universe. I respected her: her imagination, intelligence, intellectual prowess, and damn't'all, her taste! To put it pointedly. I loved her. (Still do! ...along with all the respect jazz.) She needled, she whined, she harassed. For another fine point, I was cajoled into giving Mr. Potter another chance. And would you believe it? The first book wasn't as childish as I once imagined. The second book showed writing growth. And by the third book I was hooked. Drowning in the joy, my friends, I was drowning in the joy of pure magic!

No one I know updates their blog enough for this meme to do anything. I know, poor me.

Poor, meme-killing me.



It's a kind of magic?

It's a beautiful kind of magic.

Disney, oh Disney

We all know the world is going to hell in a hand basket. Hell takes both the form of decadence and hand-wringing. More often than not the hand-wringing rises to meet the decadence. I'm not quite sure how powerful the lure of decadence is in response to the hand-wringing because, well, we all like being decadent no matter the situation or the disapproving faces. On reflection, though, the more disapproving faces we have the more exciting the decadence is. We all enjoy letting out a "Rebel Yell," much to Billy Idol's delight.

Decadence knows hand-wringing, hand-wringing loves it some decadence. Its a synergistic relationship that exists because we exist as beautiful, guilty, sexually depraved whores of all things good and wicked.

Yet that relationship, as twisted as it is, is not the infuriating part of today's news. Far from it. What's infuriating is the hand-wringing that results from the possibility of offending. This is when two dreaded words, Politically Correct, surface and damn us all yet again.

Case in point: Disney's new animated musical The Frog Princess, taken from the Russian fairy tale. I almost choked when reading updates on the new Disney film.

First: Almost two years before its hoped-for release of its first hand-drawn animated film, Disney has already drawn fire for alleged racial and ethnic insensitivity's that were detected in its original announcement of the film. Since the original title might be regarded as a slur on the French, the title has been changed to The Princess and the Frog.
Typically unbelievable. Disney has every right to call their film what they want. However, to so visibly change the name so as not to offend an entire nation based on childish word play strikes me as the worst kind of cowardice - the stupid, ignorant kind. Really, who has used the play of Frog and French since the early nineties?

Second: The main character, named Maddy -- who was to become Disney's first black princess -- has had her name changed to Tiana, since Maddy reportedly sounded too much like Mammy.
I must admit when the film was first announced I couldn't believe Disney named the lead Maddy. 'Maddy' is an incredibly evocative name and I thought Disney either had big enough cajones to go there or was just too stupid to get it. Now I realise they were just too stupid to get it because of the now evidenced inability to go through with such a ballsy choice.
And it could have been a wonderful part of The Frog Princess. Why not incorporate the name Tiana into the story line? Just as LeVar Burton's refusal of "Toby" and furious demand to be called "Kunta Kinte" in Roots, renaming Maddy could have been an incredibly powerful moment throughout the film. First whispering the name Tiana and at the end declaring with power and pride. How beautiful.
And finally a quotation from Disney itself: "The story takes place in the charming elegance and grandeur of New Orleans' fabled French Quarter during the Jazz Age. ... Princess Tiana will be a heroine in the great tradition of Disney's rich animated fairy tale legacy, and all other characters and aspects of the story will be treated with the greatest respect and sensitivity."
This was in response to allegations Tiana would be a chambermaid for some snobby, spoiled white kid in 1920s New Orleans. Again this reveals how blind and unambitious Disney is. There is no doubt that Tiana is a chambermaid and any attempt made by Disney to make anyone perceive otherwise is foolish. Disney should be embracing the idea of a chambermaid turned princess. Cinderella did it with an all white cast in a fantasy land. Why can't Tiana do it in historically correct New Orleans? *

Disney is blind for not realising how powerful this story could be because, not in spite, of all the controversy The Frog Princess has created. We've seen too many movies, celebrities, and books making millions of false or ridiculous controversy. Here Disney has a chance to make something beautiful because of controversy and they're not doing a damn thing about it.

I'm not saying The Frog Princess could have become the most important movie in a generation. However, Tiana (or Maddy) could have become a much needed addition to Disney's princess canon. And now all we'll get is some mediocre movie with no passion or power.

We should SCREAM at the audacity of what's going on.

The pretty black girls will still want to be Belle or Jasmine or Cinderella for Halloween or special birthday parties. No one will want to be Tiana and who can blame them?


*Fingers crossed Disney still does something special.

People Still Suck

http://www.cnn.com/2007/EDUCATION/03/02/reading.for.pizza.ap/index.html

People Suck

http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/02/28/city.sexchange.ap/index.html

Fair Weather Weather

I ate my lunch outside yesterday.

It made me happy.

My Writing

Last semester when I attempted to restart regularly posting on here, I am implemented a scheme to post a piece of poetry every Tuesday. The idea did gain what I hoped it would, thinking constructively again about my writing. And for maybe 4 or 5 weeks I came up with a piece every Tuesday.

However, what the scheme also brought about in an unforseen way was a pressure to write (obviously, setting a deadline to publish writing would inherently invite pressure) exactly when I didn't need it. Now, I'm typically one to appreciate writing under pressure. It's the only way I survived university - late night and often last minute wooshes of my mighty pen and fingers. I did it well enough, but this is something of an entirely different animal. I'm already freaked out by my writing and even the possibility of it - just need to take it slowly. I have to write, a delightful statement I'm becoming more and more aware of.

And I will write.

Just with no more deadlines. However, I will strive to not only type but also post what I'm writing. All poetry will get posted. And prose, some prose will get posted. If I actually decide on what to write, I think I'll have a few things to share.

What a frightening prospect.

I Like Andrew

I have a friend who's a mountain of a man.

A mountain of love, musicoscity, snarkiness and ego.

Say hi, Andrew the Great.

"Mumble, mumble, grumble and bumble"

That's the Andrew I know and love.

I have decided upon a dedication of a new tab in my sidebar to Andrew. He has three freakin' blogs, so he deserves one lil' section to himself. And he's a big, jolly man. Big, jolly men deserve special considerations.

Especially when they not only have but record awesome, awesome dreams for us to enjoy.
Read part one of Andrew's dream here.

Reasons, Reasons, Reasons

While I often find myself thinking diligently about what I can and should be writing here, 99 times out of 100 I don't find myself writing at all, here or anywhere. It's been a source of great consternation and, quite honestly, confusion over the past few months since I've started graduate school. The many experiences and thoughts I've had should have given birth to quite a lot of writing, yet only sourced doubt and, as referenced before, a great deal of confusion.

Now as I start the new semester, I very much want to break that cycle of confusion and thought without action. I'm not proud of the fact that I'm often the guy who acts without thinking. But I'd be fundamentally ashamed if I became the guy who thought without acting. So, why do I do this?

I think I have an answer. I believe that more often than not I find myself unable to write basically because I feel pretty inadequate almost every day. And by inadequate I mean intellectually incapable of rising to the challenge bar that's been set before me.

I know I'm a smart guy. Concepts and thoughts have always come easily to me. 95 percent of the time I could bullshit my way through an assignment or abstract thought and do just fine. But this time...there's no way I can do that. To sound like the priviledged white asshole that I am: I've never had to work this hard for anything intellectual in my life.

That's situation which is inherently exciting. It's a cool thing, or would be if I actually knew I wanted to be doing this...this economics. But I don't. So I'm stuck between a rock (my procrastination, legendary) and a hard place (not knowing what I want, or if I can get what I want). I should try, though. At the very least I should try. Right?

I'm buckling down, working harder than I ever have. Though, it's still not very much.

I could resolve to do and be a lot of things. But there's just one thing I'm going to resolve for myself.

I don't want to feel stupid anymore, day in and day out.

Please, Sir

In the past few months of actively not writing in this blog, I have been activiely engaged in thinking about writing in this blog. Every thought that would come to mind (though perhaps not all, as not all of my thoughts are kosher enough for even the most intimately acquainted), would come with the desire to write and write here.

So when it comes that I have myself set down before my computer, the blog pulled up and my heart equating my mind's desire to write (as often it does not), I find myself unable to call upon an idea tonight. Sure, there are many things I could write on. I know all of the topics intimately. Yet none of them strike with the same urgency as when I think of them.

Perhaps this is why I am still not a writer, I have not yet learned to conquest the inability of the heart to move my fingers.

Perhaps, all the more, this is why I do not know what it is I should be doing - or how I should know it - or what I should do about it. That said, it is an easy venture to acknowledge that much else explains the why behind the preceding sentence.

Life is a struggle for me, in more ways than one. Of recent days that struggle has fragmented - yet the utter truth of it remains whole and untainted. We all struggle, I am nothing special because of mine nor is mine unique. A line of thought which I had to learn. I was born an utter egotist - I've had to learn many a lesson of humility - humility which guides an understanding of my place in community, not outside of it.

I remember as a child, running on the streets of my hometown in South Carolina at 5 am, dreaming of finding myself caught up in a mystery or fantastic adventure. There was a hill I remember climbing as I ran which I always felt would be the perfect place to be abducted by some secret organization. That was who I believed I was - someone special enough that circumstance would find me, and I would be ready. In a lot of ways, I still wait for that circumstance.

But as I see my eyes opening more and more into the world, I realise not the pithiness of making one's circumstance, however true that might be. No, I realise...something. I guess I realise that I am still special, unique and with something to offer this world. But that uniqueness, I have to find it - I can't wait, nor should I have ever, waited for someone else to find it. I never quite understood why I got so angry when I was told I would be someone special in this life. Sadly enough I was told that quite often - and by the people who mattered enough that I listened implicitly, all the while cradling my anger which was righteous enough.

I understand now, though. We all must rely on others, must lean on one another, right now. But the thing we can't do, I can't do, is rely on someone to rake a timber in the midst of soul, catch the fire and then lead on as if leading with a torch in the midst of darkness. Poetic language aside, if the fire can be wielded, I must dance with it myself before anyone else can.

I have always claimed to be one with a fire burning in my heart. Now is the time to stop ignoring its presence by only acknowledging the warmth and sometimes heat. Now's the time to stick my head in the fire and breathe who it is I am.

Fire once burned my gloves and the soles of my boots, now its time to let it burn my soul.

(Not nearly as dark as the imagery would have it be read. All I say: time to stop ignoring who I am, find out, and then...live it. I'm poetic, it gets me into trouble more often than not. Happy place, people, I'm in a happy place.)

That's What I Like to See

In the National Football League, the Indy Colts are the much maligned "softest" team of all however many teams (32 I think). And they are so maligned for so many good reasons. Throughout the past 4 to 5 seasons, their number one rated offense, headed by arguably the most efficient and, damn't, the prettiest damn passer there ever was, has always fallen short of parading through the playoffs because their defense is so soft. To enumerate how soft is soft, let's examine the average yards per game given up by the Colts defense this year: 145. That's a lot.

But to be fair, the soft nature of the Colts isn't all on the shoulder of the defense. (Though it should be so as the Colts' head coach was the mastermind behind the defensive behemoth that drove the Tampa Bay Bucs towards an NFL Championship.) Their offense deserves just as much blame. I can't begin to recount the number of times I've seen the Colts line up with 4 downs to get to the goal (score a touchdown) and fail to break through with one of the most productive and stalwart running backs in the league. Not the mention how often I've seen a well put together defense confuse the most impressive defensive deconstructionist behind center (Colts quarterback, Peyton Manning, pictured).

However, all that said, the Colts stepped up on Saturday. They played the Baltimore Ravens in a second round playoff match in Baltimore. Given the history of the Colts, there was no reason for them to survive this matchup. You see, the Ravens defense is legendary. It won them the 2000 NFL Championship. And it is finally back to form - a thing to be well, well feared. But the Colts held on.

The Colts did even more than that. They won the defensive battle. Their defense stepped up and outplayed the Ravens defense. The Colts won in the most improbable of ways. Peyton Manning didn't throw a touchdown, never handed off for a touchdown run. There wasn't even a touchdown scored in the entire game. But there were 8 scores. 8 field goals - which is amazing. Not amazing that such a game happens. However, amazing for one simple fact - the Colts won this game. And won on the foot of Adam Vinetieri (to the right).

I realise this may not be monumental. Especially considering the Colts may face, next Sunday, another huge obstacle in the San Diego Chargers.

But hell, this is time for celebration! Let's go Colts!

The Unstoppable Return

So, I haven't written in a long while.

Hell, I haven't written consistently in an even longer time.

Seems to be a horrible habit of mine. I start a great many things yet fail to finish quite a lot of them. Yet though quite absent, this blog is never far from my mind. In particular, what I have to say through it has been a consistent presence with me.

I'm ready to go again. And as I'm ready to go, reveining my desire to express myself through this blog - I decided to add some pretty colours. Black & blue - pretty doesn't quite begin to describe. Especially when the blue is the blue of my beloved University - the University of the people - the University of North Carolina. (Yeah, I so totally dig getting schooled every day at this place.)

So here comes my mind. I hope everyone finds it oh so very damn sexy.