Tuesday, January 27, 2009


I’m back, I suppose. Let’s not make a big production out of it. There’s no real reason the site’s been blank for a while other than lack of motivation on my part. No big deal. Maybe the curve is trending back upward now. Maybe it’s not. Who knows?

Don’t read anything into it. Life’s just sort of neutral right now, which is pretty much the way I like things. Let’s break the ice with a reading list. Here, in no particular order, are the last several books I’ve read. Don’t judge.

Perdido Street Station, by China Mieville: I’ve already reviewed this one. Highly recommended.

Iron Council, by China Mieville: Not quite so good. A slog, essentially. I hate invented science fiction jargon unless it’s exceptionally clever and well-timed. In Perdido Street Station, such was the case. In Iron Council it’s not. Mieville’s worth another shot, however, so I’ll try his other one, the name of which escapes my motivation to look it up on Amazon at the moment.

Rebound Rules, by Rick Pitino: Yeah, whatever. We can all use a little motivation. My stance on self-help books is that the most important thing they can tell you is to copy people who’ve been successful at what you’re trying to accomplish. That way, you can refine what they do and potentially make it better. That’s about all I ever get out of these things.

Number9Dream, by David Mitchell: This was actually pretty good. It’s kind of a Murakami knock-off, except it’s not a translation so the writing’s better. I’ll be reading some more of Mitchell’s work.

Catcher in the Rye, by JD Salinger: I read it every few years, and its number was up this year, so I read it again.

The Given Day, by Dennis Lehane:

The Reagan I Knew, by William F. Buckley, Jr.:
Come on, now. My aunt gave it to me for Christmas.

The Steelers will win the Super Bowl, but they’re lucky the Patriots didn’t make the playoffs.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Here you go...


Dear Eli Manning Era Giants Fans,

First off, thank you for supporting my favorite team in sports for the past eleven months. It’s been a pleasure having your company since last year’s NFC Championship game – which, coincidentally, is when you first realized that “your” team actually had a chance to play in the Super Bowl. This also coincided with the purchase of your fancy #10 Eli Manning jersey. Those were good times. I enjoyed them, too. I’d been waiting a long time.

I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you with the Giants the way they did with the Yankees. I know it’s always hard when you realize the team you’ve adopted isn’t going to win the championship every single year. I know this feels like a slap in the face, because I’ve been there. I was, like, five at the time, but I’ve been there, and it’s a rough haul.

Welcome to the real world, you fucking slapdicks. In the real world, sports fans have to wait their turn for championships. In the real world, you follow a team for years and years and years before you’re finally rewarded – and once you’ve been rewarded, the idea is to go back to cheering your fucking brains out for that same team for another dozen years or so until they do it again. That’s how it works. You don’t get a championship after a week of interest, and you certainly don’t get another one the following year, unless you’re one of the millions of pink-hats who realized New York had two baseball teams back in 1996.

Here’s the good news: you’re off the hook. As a Giants fan who can actually remember the likes of Ray Perkins, Scott Brunner, Rob Carpenter and Butch Woolfolk, I’m here to tell you that you’re under no obligation to see this charade through. You have a right to know that it’ll likely be another fifteen years before the Giants win the Super Bowl again, so I’m suggesting we go our separate ways now that you were forced to swallow Sunday’s little dose of reality.

In other words, bail out. Jump off the bandwagon. Get lost. These aren’t the Yankees, and you’re not getting another Super Bowl out of the Giants until you’re bald and married and your kids are hitting puberty. Tom Coughlin as Vince Lombardi? Eli Manning as Johnny Unitas? David Tyree as Jerry Rice?

It’s a one shot deal, my friends. Trust me. These are still Your Father’s New York Giants. And that’s not the team for you. You can all jump ship now. Thanks for your support.


Rob from Section 311

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Banging out

I'm using the sick excuse for the first two days of this week. I'm sick as a damned dog, and it sucks, and my brain is fogged over to the point of non-functionality.

I'll hopefully kick this shit in a day or so and get back to normal.