I Need T-Shirt for My Bunghole

From whatever Google Alert TR has set up for this segment, I bring you this fine piece of cloth:

I know at least one guy (other than me) who would love this:

Stand Down Roger

Roger Charlery, better known as Ranking Roger, was a member of three bands that made highly influential and irresistibly catchy tunes in the 80s and 90s. Originally with The Beat (known as The English Beat here in the colonies), he also featured in General Public and on Big Audio Dynamite's final studio album.

He passed away this week from cancer at the age of 56. Grind some out for a ska legend.

Two Minutes and Thirty Seconds to a Brighter Day

Deviating from the usual hard-edge content you get from Igor, Clarence, and me, here's something that made me cry like a little kid yesterday. Something about daughters and adding something lovely to the world.

There isn't much more to say, other than this is one reason why I'm still on Facebook despite millennial mocking, concerns about privacy, and that I could access much of the same stuff via my Instagram and Twitter accounts. I see posts and clips like this, and they have a million times more impact on the tenor of my day than Mueller reports and mutilated brackets.

(I also shared this with my daughters and told them they need to spend less time on Snapchat and more time at the piano. Not bloody likely.)

Two German sisters taking on Radiohead's "Creep" in the German show The Voice -- Kids.  The whole clip is 12 minutes, but you see all you need by 2:30 or so.

Worth playing at a decent volume.



Have a nice day.

In Whom Do We Trust Now?

Since at least 2008, it's been our custom to repeat 'In Shaver We Trust' when assessing the fortunes of the William & Mary hoops program. Now, we have no idea where to place that trust. Certainly not in neophyte athletic director Samantha Huge, whose firing of Shaver without seeming regard to the obvious consequences has likely doomed the Tribe program to the cellar of the mediocre CAA for at least the next several years.

To recap the state of affairs, Shaver was fired after W&M lost to Delaware in the first round of the 2019 CAA Tournament, despite the fact that his team had just become the only current CAA member to win 10 or more league games in six consecutive seasons, and with little regard for the fact that the team he had returning next year would've been a favorite to win the league. Since the firing, which was nearly unanimously panned by the hoops intelligencia, four prospective starters on next year's squad have entered the NCAA's transfer portal - seniors Justin Pierce and Matt Milon are considering leaving as graduate transfers, and freshmen Chase Audige and L.J. Owens are willing to sit out a year to transfer.

Pre-enactment of Samantha Huge making it rain

Rumors abound that Huge is willing to significantly raise the bar on salary to attract a name coach to Williamsburg. On Twitter, @CoachingChanges (I have no idea who runs it, but they consistently seem to get things right - they had Shaver on the hot seat last year and I got pissed about it, but they sure knew more than I did) suggested yesterday that W&M would pay as much as $700k/year for the job. That's more than double Shaver's package. Other rumors have the budget even higher, on the hunch that there's a deep-pocketed donor willing to drop the cash.

While I think it's a good thing that W&M will invest more into the program, I can't for the life of me figure out who would take the job right now. Or perhaps, who would take the job for the right reasons. A talented young guy like UMBC's Ryan Odom or a LeMoyne's Patrick Beilein would have to know that they'd be taking on total rebuild at a school with serious academic demands and constraints - even modest success is at least three years away. A retread like John Thompson III, who worked with Huge at Georgetown, would want serious money, and would view the job as a career rehabilitation opportunity. And why would someone in that scenario (assuming we're not talking absurd cash) take the W&M job given the high likelihood of failure.

Nathan Knight's senior season is gonna be...whew, man

In all likelihood, we're going to wind up overpaying for a middling assistant with a modest profile, probably repped by Parker Executive Search, a firm that specializes in athletic executive recruiting, in a you-scratch-my-back-I'll-scratch-yours transaction designed to help Huge land her next job. My greatest fear, other than the obvious reality that we'll be fucking terrible on the court for the next five years, is that we're looking at Rick Boyages v2.0.

Man, I hope I'm wrong. But that would be really unusual. This, as we've said ad nauseum, will likely do down as a Huge mistake.

Everyday Heroism

This lady re-created my save!

The business segment I lead (yeah, that's right - I'm a pretty big deal) has an annual recognition program celebrating our public sector customers and the work they do. We call it the Everyday Heroes Award, and it honors law enforcement and other public servants who use our products to make their communities safer. One of the cool things I get to do is present the award to the agency that wins each year - last year I was on the local news in Springfield, MA after I presented the award to the Springfield PD for their work apprehending a rape suspect who was later convicted.

I don't, myself, really engage in much heroism, so I'm really pleased to be able to tell all of you about a series of things that happened within just a few days last week. After you read of them, you'll be - like me - wondering where I can find a tailor to sew me a costume.

First, as I was perusing the aisles at our local Trader Joe's, I noticed a bag of sandwich bread placed precariously on the top shelf start to wobble. I was roughly 15 feet away when it became clear that the loaf was going to tumble to the ground. I took two quick steps, reached out with my left hand, and snagged the bread as it plummeted to earth. I might've crushed a couple of slices, but rest assured that the customer that ultimately purchased that bread did so confident that it'd never been on the dirty floor.

Cristiano Ronaldo re-created my look! Very close to reality!

Later that same night, into the early morning, my wife woke me up in a panic. She'd heard a noise from downstairs, and felt certain that there was an intruder in the house. I don't own a gun, or really anything one could use for personal protection, except for maybe a baseball bat. Which is conveniently stored in the garage. I was wearing nothing but boxer shorts, my traditional sleepwear. But I'm a man. I'm 48. So I did my duty, walking downstairs mostly naked, stomping around a bit, checking in the pantry and closets, and heading all the way to our basement to confront the intruder. Who didn't exist. Quite sure I'd have put a hell of a fright into him had I found him.

A couple of days later, I found myself coaching my soccer team of U15 girls. We were one player short of even teams, so I needed to jump into our practice-ending scrimmage to even things up. I sprained my ankle pretty good a couple weeks back, so I was in a bit of pain. Didn't hear me complain, even a little. Took one for the team, and for America.

Finally, I'll take credit for a couple of things my kids did. In the wake of the admissions scandal that ensnared Lori Loughlin and Felicity Huffman/William H. Macy, my 17 year-old daughter came to me with an earnest case of guilt over her privilege in being white and reasonably well-off. We've engaged a college counselor to help her navigate the admissions process, and while the woman we work with hasn't yet offered us any shortcuts, we're still laying out a decent chunk of change, and my kidlet felt guilty about it. I told her that she didn't have to apologize for the advantages she has, but that she should remember them and focus on figuring out how she can help people who aren't as lucky. Pretty solid Dadding, I think.

That's my kid, front and center.

Her sister, who just turned 15, went through a similar test of character the next day. She's a competitive cheerleader, and she works harder at it than at anything else she's ever done in her life. She made her high school varsity squad as a freshman, and she started this club season competing on a decent, if unspectacular, Level 3 team at her gym. Due to a few factors, including injuries and indifferent effort, the coaches decided that the team would compete as a Level 2 team for one competition. (If you really care about what the levels mean, email me and I'll find a link. I assume you don't.) They performed well, and the coaches - who strike me as indifferent in their own right - asked the kids on the team if they wanted to compete at that level for the remainder of the season (and have a higher likelihood of success) or move back to Level 3. The vote was 19-1. My kid was the '1'. She wanted to do the thing that was harder rather than the thing that was more likely to result in winning. I have no earthly idea where that ethic came from. We'll just assume some excellent Momming.

I've you've made it this far, I figure you're as impressed with me as I am with myself. Lord, it's hard to humble sometimes.

Believe it or not, I'm walkin' on air. Never thought I could feel so free.

Bada Bing! Carmine Persico is Dead.

Love them or hate them, respect them or loathe them, the true wiseguys from our parents' generation were memorable. Last week's murder of acting Gambino crime boss Frank Cali in Staten Island reminded us that the mob is still alive and (sorta) well, living in a murky world of extortion and loansharking.

But there was a mafia death a couple weeks ago that fell under the radar, caught between some Trumpian craziness, Women's Day (when did that become thing?) and the Manafort sentencing.

The wiseguy was Carmine Persico. He passed away at the age of 85, an impressive run for a long-time mafia member, even if most of the last 40+ years were spent in the clink. But it's a memorable life, if the world of organized crime and thuggery is of interest to you. So let's quickly recap the highlights of Mr. Persico's career.

In his early teens, he was the leader of a street gang in Brooklyn. He was arrested for fatally beating a kid in Prospect Park when he was 17, but avoided charges. He joined the Colombo crime family after that and worked his way up the ladder. He was implicated in the famed Park Sheraton Hotel barber shop murder in 1957, but was never formally linked to the slaying.

Persico's dirty deeds and mob slang became canon for the Godfather movies. He hung out with Mario Puzo and the cast as the movie was being filmed. The scene where Caan says "bada bing, all over your nice Ivy league suit" was an ad lib that was pulled from something Caan heard Persico say. And remember that murder scene from Godfather II where they try to whack Frankie Pants with a garrote? That was pulled from a hit Persico attempted in a Brooklyn bar that got interrupted by a cop.



Persico's run was fiercely, savagely successful, but it did not last. He took over the Colombo crime family in 1973 after another famous murder, the assassination of rival gangster Joey Gallo at Umberto's Clam House in Little Italy in 1972. But problems with the law came up immediately thereafter and he was imprisoned for most of the rest of his life for hijacking, loansharking, attempting to bribe a federal agent, racketeering and other fun stuff.

He spent most of the rest of his life in prison. Hopefully he knew to slice the garlic thin and not put too many onions in the sauce. Crazy, violent life led by Persico.

 

Egg Man Egg Boy Egg Man Egg Boy

You made the mistake and judge a man by his race
You go through life with egg on your face



Australian Senator Fraser Anning made the mistake, judging a whole bunch of men and women by their race. In return, he went through a small portion of his life with egg on his face.

After the horrific (and really, that word means fuck all anymore when it comes to gun violence) and cowardly attack on the Al Noor Mosque in Christchurch, New Zealand, Anning released a public statement claiming that “the real cause of bloodshed on New Zealand streets today is the immigration program which allowed Muslim fanatics to migrate to New Zealand in the first place.”

First off, go fuck yourself and your ilk, Senator.

Secondly, I want to be Will Connolly when I grow up. Connolly is a 17 year-old Australian who disagrees with Anning's hateful rhetoric. And so he did this:


The stones to do that in the first place are worth commending. But young Connolly also took two punches from a much larger dude and didn't seem to bat an eye. They grow 'em tough in Oz, it appears.

After the incident, Connolly was rueful, though not exactly contrite. He posted a video on Instragram in which he said, "Don’t egg a politician, you’ll tackled by 30 bogans at the same time, I learnt the hard way. Fuck”

There's a GoFund me page raising money to cover Connolly's legal fees. He's said that we won't take the money, but will donate to charities supporting the Christchurch victims instead. Good on you, mate.

We don't condone violence here in the Gheorgheverse (we're lovers, not fighters), but hatred must be confronted.

Look out the window, see his bald head, run to the fridge, pull out an egg. Metaphors, y'all.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

Come all your rambling boys of pleasure, and ladies of easy leisure...

Man, the dumb shit that was done in the name of this song back in the early 90s. Glory days.



And this one's got the great Kirsty MacColl in it:



Drop your favorite Irish tunes into the post as you see fit.

Pink Squirrels

A biology professor at Northland College in Texas was shining a UV flashlight in his backyard because ... I don't know why, I guess that's just what bio profs do. Anyway, as he was shining the UV light a hot-pink flying squirrel flew by him. No typos in that sentence. See for yourself.

Turns out no one ever noticed this before, except maybe rob but he kept it to himself. The loon with the UV light then started shining on museum specimens and found more glowing squirrels.

His results were published in The Journal of Mammalogy, in which he concluded:

Fluorescence in varying intensities of pink was observed in females and males of all extant species (G. oregonensis, G. sabrinus, and G. volans) across all sampled geographic areas in North and Central America and a temporal range of 130 years. We observed fluorescence in museum specimens (n = 109) and wild individuals (n = 5) on both dorsal and ventral surfaces. Museum specimens of three co-occurring, diurnal sciurid species (Sciurus carolinensis, S. niger, and Tamiasciurus hudsonicus) were also examined but did not fluoresce. The ecological significance of this trait in the nocturnal–crepuscular flying squirrels warrants further investigation.

I eagerly await rob's scholarship on this matter.

Emergency Wrenball Post: In Shaver We Trusted

We've been over the numbers ad nauseam. The 2-18 record in CAA Tournament play between 1985 and 2003. The 11-45 mark the Tribe hoops squad put up over my first two years on campus. The run of 17 years with a single postseason victory. The 21 seasons between 1985 and 2007 with two winning seasons (one of those 14-13). The 100-38 loss at Duke in 1992.

We don't understand, either, Coach

And of late, the six consecutive seasons of double-digit conference victories. The double-digit overall victories in 12 of 13 years (by far the best such stretch in W&M basketball history). The four CAA Tournament finals. The six-point lead with 70 fucking seconds to play in the 2014 CAA championship game. The seven first-team All-CAA players. The best-shooting team in America in 2017-18, and one of the best of all-time. William & Mary's all-time leading scorer.

The first set of digits represents William & Mary basketball's history before Tony Shaver was hired from Hampden-Sydney in 2003, figuring he had one last, best shot to test his mettle at the Division I level. After a couple of years of scuffling, he scrapped his up-tempo system and adapted to the players he was able to recruit, and built an offense tailored to disciplined, smart athletes who could shoot, even if most of them couldn't jump out of the gym in the early years. Which led to the second group of numbers.

Stats are interesting, and you can build a story around them if you're so inclined. W&M Athletic Director Samantha Huge seems to have built a narrative that suits her vision around a single stat, or lack thereof. In firing the best coach ever to have worked the sidelines in Williamsburg, she noted that, "We are forever grateful to Tony for his commitment and service over 16 years to William & Mary. He is a teacher not just a coach and his impact on hundreds of young men will be felt by them for years to come." Nothing to quibble with there.

Huge went on to say, "However, we have high expectations for our men's basketball program, including participating in the NCAA Tournament, and we will not shy away from setting the bar high.  Now is the time to begin a new chapter in William & Mary basketball." The 0-fer the Shaver put up when it comes to NCAA Tournament bids is the Scarlet Number that Samantha Huge couldn't overlook.

At the mid-major level, every conference tournament is a crapshoot, a lot like the Major League Baseball playoffs. Four, five, six teams in each league have hope entering the postseason. Look at Saint Mary's this year. Or Bradley. Or Northern Kentucky. All we can ever ask as alumni of a school like William & Mary is to have hope.

Before Tony Shaver, we had none. Since our first miracle CAA Tournament run in 2008, we've had it in spades, and three other times, we were one game away from history. After the 2008 CAA Finals loss to George Mason, we wrote this:

"But as we noted in this space just yesterday, the loss does nothing to diminish the joy this unlikely group of kids brought to W&M’s generally subdued alumni. For the briefest of moments we were allowed to pretend we belonged, to plan trips to the Boise or Sacramento or Tacoma subregionals, to shout ourselves hoarse watching a game that actually mattered, and to dream. Generations of us had never even allowed ourselves to dream. When we talk about this team, that’s the thing we’ll remember – not that they finally fell short, but that they let us dream, hope, and care. And at some level, that’s the magic of college basketball, that an obscure school from a mid-major conference can make otherwise mature (it’s in the eye of the beholder, people) adults let loose the bonds of logic and rationality and really, deeply believe in the most unlikely outcomes."

When we talk about Tony Shaver, we won't talk about the 226-258 record or the eight losing seasons. The thing we'll remember is not that he lost more than he won, but that he let us dream, hope, and care. And that's a hell of a thing.

In Shaver We Trust.

Maltese Millennial Falcon

I work with a bright young enthusiastic guy who likes to talk about politics and international affairs. He handed me a copy of "Shortest Way Home" by Pete Buttigieg and told me I had to read it. So I did. You should too.

Pete Buttigieg (pronounced "boot-edge-edge," apparently it's the most common last name in Malta) is the mayor of South Bend. He was the valedictorian and senior class president of his high school in South Bend, then he went to Harvard and Oxford on a Rhodes Scholarship, then he worked at McKinsey and volunteered on various Democratic campaigns. He eventually came home to South Bend and became the mayor. This all happened in the first 29 years of his life.

He turned 37 in January and he's running for President. If he wins he could, in theory, become a retired two-term president by the time he's 45. I'll be 45 in twenty days.

Buttigieg is openly gay. He came out after he became the mayor and was reelected with 80% of the vote. Notably this happened in Indiana while Mike Pence was governor. Apparently Buttigieg just gets shit done and his constituents dig it.

I enjoyed his book so much that I listened to some interviews with him and he's really damn impressive. He's progressive but pragmatic. His approach reminds me of a good mediator--start any negotiation with areas upon which both sides can agree, work through those areas to build trust and cooperation between the groups, and then build on that success to address more contentious issues collaboratively.

For example, everyone agrees that we need freedom, democracy, and security. Different people might view those three concepts differently, but if we can find niches in those areas that both sides of the aisle agree on we might make progress in ways that please a lot of people.

Buttigieg has a some hints of Marco Rubio to him. His delivery is really smooth and not clearly rehearsed, but once you've heard him a few times you'll hear the same lines again and again. He also has Rubio's youthful appearance and gameshow host haircut. Buttigieg has at least 50 IQ points on Rubio though and he seems genuine.

When asked how someone so young could have enough experience to be President, Buttigieg notes that he has more government experience than the current President; more executive experience than Mike Pence; and more military experience than any president since George H.W. Bush (he was deployed in Afghanistan for 7 months as a reservist).



His time at McKinsey taught him how to mine data and he's a Millennial so he naturally embraces technology. So, for example, he worked with Notre Dame to develop Wi-Fi enabled valves in the sewer system and now the St. Joseph river doesn't get flooded with Golden Domer shits after a rain storm. He also addressed South Bend's abandoned house problem through smarts, creativity and lots of elbow grease, resulting in the remediation or demolition of 1000 houses in 1000 days.

Ultimately I think he's too young to get the nomination but I think he's a great VP pick--smart, young, mid-western, full of energy and ideas. Like a gay Paul Ryan circa 2008, only he cares about other people and has principles beyond tax cuts for the uber rich. Biden/Buttigieg 2020 rolls off the tongue and I would love to watch him debate Pence.

In fact, I'd love to watch him debate anyone and in order for that to happen he needs to get donations of any size from 65,000 different people. I encourage you to spend a buck to get him on the main debate stage. We're all better off with more smart people running and sharing ideas.

Don't take my word for it, read his book. Or listen to this old podcast if you're too lazy to read.

Makin' Music For Money

Here in Gheorghe: The Blog's music bureau, we trend off the beaten path more than on it, Frost-style. Exceptions exist, such as our dedicated efforts to keep you informed on Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductions, why the Grammys suck, and a few other mainstream music bits here and there.

More often we dwell in punk rock, hip-hop of yesteryear, and underappreciated alt-rock gems. But for today, let's look at some of the high-profile, high-dollar acts coming to an expansive venue in a large, metropolitan city near you.

Listed below and submitted for your approval are the top-grossing tours of 2018.

1. Ed Sheeran
2. Taylor Swift
3. Jay-Z / Beyoncé
4. Pink
5. Bruno Mars
6. Eagles
7. Justin Timberlake
8. Roger Waters
9. U2
10. The Rolling Stones
11. Kenny Chesney
12. Journey / Def Leppard
13. “Springsteen On Broadway”
14. Foo Fighters
15. Sam Smith
16. Guns N’ Roses
17. Drake
18. Helene Fischer
19. Phil Collins
20. Depeche Mode
21. Luke Bryan
22. Billy Joel
23. Imagine Dragons
24. Metallica
25. Celine Dion

I went to see U2 and Springsteen on Broadway last year.  Both delivered the goods mightily.

Anybody catch any of the other acts on the list? Headed to one or more in '19?  I'd like to believe that I've attended my last show when it's more helpful to look at the oversized screen near me than the teensy-weensy band on a stage over the hills and far away. But you never know.

Actually, I'm always interested in whatever musical events, large or small, you people are attending (not musicals, mind you), so please share what's on your rock and roll docket the coming months.

Up next for me: Pink Talking Fish next Saturday. Always fun.

Requiem for a Scribe

Legendary sportswriter Dan Jenkins passed away this week at the age of 89. We do
n't have the chops here to do his life in sports, novels, movies, and Twitter justice, so we'll point you to three of the most amazing obituaries you'd ever want to read.

First, from Tom Cunningham in Golf Digest, who quotes Jenkins saying:

“My advice doesn’t change with electricity,” he said. “Be accurate first, then entertain if it comes natural. Never sell out a fact for a gag. Your job is to inform above all else. Know what to leave out. Don’t try to force-feed an anecdote if it doesn’t fit your piece, no matter how much it amuses you. Save it for another time. Have a conviction about what you cover. Read all the good writers that came before you and made the profession worth being part of—Lardner, Smith, Runyon, etc. Don’t just cover a beat, care-take it. Keep in mind you know more about the subject than your readers or editors. You’re close to it, they aren’t. I think I can say in all honesty that I’ve never written a sentence I didn’t believe, even if it happened to be funny.”

Dave Kindred of the Washington Post, a great in his own right, weighs in:

In time, like most every sportswriter of my generation, I wanted to be Dan Jenkins. What a life. There’s Clarke’s, Elaine’s, Toots Shor’s, the Park Avenue apartment, the beautiful wife, June. (“In all my books, I’m the guy and June is the girl, and I always get the girl.”) There’s the getaway place in Hawaii, the “Semi-Tough” quarterback Billy Clyde Puckett, the sportswriter Jim Tom Pinch in “You Gotta Play Hurt,” and the movie “Baja Oklahoma” (with its immortal 10 stages of drunkenness, ending with “9. Invisible” and “10. Bulletproof”). 

“Dan Jenkins, Dan Jenkins!” an ingénue of a sportswriter said upon meeting him. “I’ve always wanted to be just like you.” 

“What, hungover?” he replied.

Finally, Jenkins' daughter Sally, who followed her father into the family business, wrote a moving essay about her Dad:

So here’s the deal if you want a recipe for father worship, if you want kids who, when you are dying in the hospital, will race at 60 mph across town in search of the grape Popsicle you requested, just to please you one more time. Take your little girl or boy everywhere with you, even into bars. Do small, harmless things with them you shouldn’t, let them off easy and end every conversation with a laugh. But give them your God’s honest truth about what matters, and let them see you work. 

He preferred brevity, loathed false sentiment, prized candor and humor above all character traits and was a free speech absolutist. Privately, he was a lenient, adoring and adored man. As great a writer as he was, I don’t know that you can say anything higher about a guy than that his children preferred his company to all others and his approval to all the credit in the world. I was so lucky to be his. 

“I don’t know who to try to impress anymore,” I told my mother.

Kindred's obit mentioned Jenkins' coining of the 10 stages of drunkenness in his novel 'Baja Oklahoma, which are worth repeating in their entirety. See if you resemble any of these:

Witty and charming
Rich and powerful
Benevolent
Clairvoyant
F--- dinner
Patriotic
Crank up the Enola Gay
Witty and charming, Part II
Invisible
Bulletproof

Godspeed, Mr. Jenkins. Twitter, sports, and the world will miss you in equal measure.

This Week in Wrenball: Three Days in March

It's a long-established truism that we don't have any idea what we're doing when it comes to predicting CAA Tournament results. So we'll eschew that tried and true formula and just give you the facts.

At 2:30 this afternoon in North Charleston, the 4th-seeded Tribe of William & Mary take on 5th seed Delaware. The two teams split in regular season play, with Delaware handing the Tribe its first league loss, 58-56, in Newark in January. W&M blew a 12-point second-half lead in that one. Tony Shaver's boys got a measure of revenge in Williamsburg in early February, drilling the Hens, 84-63, on the strength of Chase Audige's first collegiate double-double.

The two teams enter the tournament on very different paths. W&M has won five straight to become the first current CAA member to win double-digit league games in six consecutive seasons. (College me would read that sentence with jaw-dropped incredulity.) Delaware has lost four in a row and seven of nine, finishing 8-10 in the league after a surprising 6-3 start.

This is only the second time these schools have met in postseason play. Several Gheorghies were in the building for the other one, which remains one of the great gut-punches of my sports fandom.  

By most objective measures, W&M is slightly better than Delaware. The Hens are a tiny bit better on offense, and considerably worse defensively. The Tribe will have the best player on the floor in Nathan Knight, and Justin Pierce is probably better than anyone Delaware will field. 6'9" redshirt senior Eric Carter (16.0 ppg, 9.9 rpg) might disagree. W&M has better balance, but neither team is particularly deep.

W&M should win. They might not. Bounce of the ball, and all that.

It won't matter all that much, in the end, as the winner of this game gets Hofstra, the class of the league, in the conference semifinals.

W&M and Hofstra do have a wee bit of history in that round, though.

So you're sayin' there's a chance?

Don Ameche is not one of these amici but they are impressive nonetheless, Alternatively Titled “I Shot the Sheriff but I did not Shoot the Deputy”

Jamal Knox was sentenced to two years in prison for performing a rap song that was his take on N.W.A.'s "Fuck tha Police." The Pennsylvania Supreme Court upheld the sentence. Apparently he mentioned two specific police officers by name in the song, and they previously arrested him on drug charges. They alleged that the song was a "terroristic threat" and thus not protected by the First Amendment. Mr. Knox appealed this matter to the Supreme Court of the United States.

I know this because Erik Neilson, a professor at the University of Richmond, and Michael Render, one half of Run the Jewels (aka Killer Mike) filed an amicus brief in support of Mr. Knox. It opens with:

Additional amici include musical artists Chancelor Bennett (“Chance the Rapper”), Robert Rihmeek Williams (“Meek Mill”), Mario Mims (“Yo Gotti”), Joseph Antonio Cartagena (“Fat Joe”), Donnie Lewis (“Mad Skillz”), Shéyaa Bin Abraham Joseph (“21 Savage”), Jasiri Oronde Smith (“Jasiri X”), David Styles (“Styles P”), Simon Tam (member of The Slants and petitioner in Matal v. Tam, 137 S. Ct. 1744 (2017)), and Luther R. Campbell (member of 2 Live Crew and petitioner in Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, Inc., 510 U.S. 569 (1994)), as well as music industry representatives Alan Light (former Editor-in-Chief, Vibe and Spin magazines), Dina LaPolt, Patrick Corcoran, Peter Lewit, and the entertainment company Roc Nation, LLC.

Further amici include scholars Michelle Alexander (Union Theological Seminary), Jody D. Armour (University of Southern California Gould School of Law), Paul Butler (Georgetown Law), Andrea L. Dennis (University of Georgia School of Law), Murray Forman (Northeastern University), Kyra Gaunt (University at Albany, SUNY), Lily E. Hirsch (California State University, Bakersfield), Robin D.G. Kelley (UCLA), Walter Kimbrough (Dillard University), Rev. Emmett G. Price, III, (Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary), and Eithne Quinn (The University of Manchester).

For the record, Quinn Emanuel represents Killer Mike, Chance the Rapper, Meek Mill, Yo Gotti, Fat Joe, 21 Savage, Styles P, Luke Skyywalker, and the guy from The Slants who made it into one of my trademark-related comments. That shit cray!



It only gets better. You can read it here, and you should. But if you're too lazy here's the point: old white people, particularly racist old white people, don't understand that hiphop music is a lot of bragging and boasting (addressed here previously, see point four), fictional story telling, spinning of good old-fashioned yarns. It isn't real. Oddly, old white people seem to understand this in other forms of music. As Ice-T said, "I ain't never killed no cop .... If you believe I'm a cop killer, you believe David Bowie is an astronaut."

The Quinn Emanuel folks gave a pretty pointed take:

Additionally, the song is replete with lyrics that defy a literal interpretation. For instance, the lyrics refer to heavy artillery, enough to “shake the motherfuckin’ streets,” and mention all of the “soldiers” in the Ghetto Superstar Committee. Id. at 3a-4a. Neither Knox nor Beasley has served in the military or ever possessed street-shaking heavy artillery. (And neither has served on a committee of superstars, ghetto or otherwise.) The lyrics repeatedly refer to the rappers’ “riches,” id. at 3a, yet Knox lived in public housing and Beasley was represented by a court-appointed attorney. The song threatens to turn the Highland Park area of Pittsburgh into Jurassic Park, but neither rapper was found to have recreated dinosaurs. Id. at 4a.

And what about the lyric “you taking money away from Beaz and all my shit away from me / well your shift over at three / and I’m gonna fuck up where you sleep”? Id. This was singled out by the Pennsylvania Supreme Court as evidence that the rappers had actually learned when the officers’ shifts began and ended. But nothing in the record indicates that either officer’s shift ended at 3:00.

A quick scan of the lyrics reveals a much more likely reason for the reference to “three.” It rhymes.

Yes. Yes it does.

The brief also presents some pretty remarkable psychological studies involving country and hiphop music. I won't ruin it for you, read the brief because it's really well laid out. I will say, however, that shooting a man in Reno just to watch him die, or positing that you can't hang a man for shooting a woman who was trying to steal his horse, is some pretty gangster country (Gangstabilly?) shit. Country music is full of murder ballads! But no one wants to lock up Lyle Lovett.

For what it's worth, I'm stunned that 30 years after N.W.A. released "Fuck tha Police" with the line "when I'm finished, it's gonna be a bloodbath of cops dyin' in L.A." someone else is in jail for singing a different song with the same title and similar anti-police lyrics. I guess the moral of the story is to stay out of Pennsylvania. I'll keep you posted on how this develops.

via GIPHY

More Crooked Than a Dog's Hind Leg

When we last checked in on political doings in the Carolinas, UN Ambassador-to-be Nikki Haley was the target of both unseemly rumors and flat out racism. In the interim, U.S. Senator Lindsey Graham (R-SC) revealed himself as the grossest kind of power-over-principle hypocrite and/or victim of some serious Russian blackmail in his groveling subservience to the President*.

North Carolina, it seems, was tired of the Palmetto State getting all the press.

Republican Mark Harris won a U.S. Congressional seat in North Carolina's 9th District in 2018, defeating Democratic challenger Dan McCready by a razor-thin 905-vote margin. The district, which is just north of Charlotte, has been reliably Republican, though it was redrawn in 2016 because courts determined that North Carolina is one of the most gerrymandered clusterfucks in modern American politics.

Shortly after McCready conceded, and before Harris had an opportunity to be sworn in, rumors began to swirl about some honest to goodness voter fraud. As in, Harris campaign representatives went to the homes of people expected to vote the Democratic ticket (mostly older African Americans) posing as poll representatives, took their ballots claiming that they would take them to be cast, and threw them away. Not garden-variety bullshit, never-happens voter fraud claimed by the President* and his minions, but actual Boss Hogg up-to-no-good chicanery.

The fraud was investigated by the North Carolina Board of Elections, which ruled on February 21 that the election results would be voided and a new election held in September.

This is where it gets really fun.

Harris has declined to run in the reelection, citing health issues, which are loosely translated as 'I'm a buffoon who broke a lot of laws and I really don't want to go to jail so I'm bowing out, which is best for everyone, really'. Harris' own son testified that the candidate was aware of irregularities in the 2016 election, and warned him that people in his campaign might be up to no good. In stepping away from the race, Harris did offer an endorsement, tapping shooting range owner Stony Rushing as the GOP candidate best positioned to win.

The Washington Post offered a headline that better paints a picture of Rushing than I ever could: "Gun enthusiast and real-life ‘Boss Hogg’ seizes GOP mantle in congressional race tainted by fraud."

Real. Life. Boss. Hogg.

That's gotta be just a colorful metaphor, no?

No.

Here's our hero in the flesh:

Seems Rushing isn't just a gun enthusiast. He's a damn Sorrell Booke impersonator, right down to his buddy Roscoe, who has a dog named Flash. (That part might not be true.)

Goddamn, North Carolina. You're a daisy. A fucked-up, insane, retrograde, racist, bass-ackward daisy. Hope the future arrives soon.

Do You Have Passion?

In a movie from nearly two decades ago that many, many reviewers consider utter tripe, there is a quote that strangely sticks with me. The wise-acre character portrayed by Jeremy Piven (an actor formerly beloved as Droz and now besieged as a sexual predator) utters the following would-be wisdom:

You know, the Greeks didn't write obituaries. They only asked one question after a man died . . . "Did he have passion?"

Okay, so the main problem with that is that it's not actually true and the Greeks did write obituaries, but there's a larger point to be made, and it's one that I embrace as much as John Cusack's character does in the film.

When it's all said and done for us, have we had true passions, and did we savor and explore them and make the most we possibly could out of them?

I love humans' passions, and I love them way more when they are way random. Weird. Possibly hard to defend to the masses.  And seemingly pointless to most others.  Passions from people who see personal value in some off-kilter art form, or activity, or quest. Or blog.  And then see it through to the hilt. 

You know, taking life less seriously.

Enter Alex Bartsch. He's a London-based photographer who seems to be known almost exclusively as the man behind this project. The Covers Project.

As it's described in this article:

He was first introduced to Bob Marley when he was a child, and he got so inspired that he spent 10 years of his life traveling around London searching for original locations of the most famous reggae vinyl covers from 1967 to 1987.

That introductory sentence does no justice to the effort involved or the finished product of his photos.  Check a few of them out.

There are many, many more.  Have a gander.

This is what passion looks like.  Passion that may possibly, now that Mr. Bartsch has published a picture book, make him a few bucks, but this cannot be a project he embarked on for pecuniary purposes. It's one that you may look upon with an eyebrow raised. You may question his sanity. You may label it a waste of time. You may label him someone with too much time on his hands.

Which is why I love it and appreciate it enormously.

Gheorghasbord: Sport(s) of the Future

Big doings in the mid-major sports world this week, with one regular season starting, another ending, a league getting off the ground, and me with lots of time on my hands.

My wife was in New Jersey this weekend at a cheerleading competition with my daughter, so I got to spend much of it watching all kinds of soccer, from Tottenham/Arsenal at 7:30 Saturday morning, to DC United's season-opener in the snow against Atlanta United last night at 6. Coulda gone to that one in person, had I desired, but 32 degrees and wet snow ain't exactly a great recipe for a good time.

The Return of Lucharoo!

Predicting results in the MLS is a bit of a fool's errand with as much variability as that league exhibits on a year to year basis, but that's not going to stop me. I think MLS Cup is going to be a battle between two of the league's most consistent franchises, both of whom have been a bit snakebitten in the postseason. Says here that Red Bull New York beats Sporting Kansas City in the final.

While MLS is just getting underway, our Tribe closed out a very up and down regular season with a 70-66 road win over James Madison. W&M started the year 3-1 in conference play, lost seven of nine, and finished with five consecutive wins to secure the 4th seed in the CAA Tournament. The Wrens face Delaware, with whom they split during the regular season. The winner will likely get Hofstra, the class of the league this season - though the Tribe did extend the Pride to triple overtime in Williamsburg in January and only lost by six in Hempstead a few weeks ago. And we all know what can happen when W&M and Hofstra meet in the semifinals of the CAA Tournament.

Nathan Knight averaged 34 points per game over the final six contests. Even with a 1-9 stinker against Towson thrown in, Matt Milon made 47.6% of his threes over the final five, averaging 17.2 points per game over that stretch. I think the winning streak is a bit misleading, as four of the five teams W&M beat were the dregs of the league, and I'm still of the mind that next year is our year, but hope does spring eternal. As does disappointment.

The best post I ever wrote* edges nearer and nearer to reality, as Major League Rugby just announced the addition of Old Glory D.C. Rugby Club for the 2020 season. Along with Boston and Atlanta, Old Glory will join the nine existing MLR franchises to give the league a total of 12 teams. NOLA Gold currently tops the league's table with a 4-1 record. For Whitney and Mr. KQ, tryouts for Old Glory are March 31 at Catholic University. Old Glory meets glory days.

(* One very intelligent commentator said, "This is fucking brilliant". I always liked that guy.)

Can't wait to catch Old Glory games live and in person. Hopefully they'll have a home game the same weekend as next year's CAA Tournament, to be held in D.C. I love it when a plan comes together.

Recurring Bit, Receded Hairline

“I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living. It's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope, which is what I do. And that enables you to laugh at life's realities.” -- Theodore Seuss Geisel

Dr. Seuss would have turned 115 on March 2, 2015. Not coincidentally, one of his more obscure but nonetheless beloved characters celebrates the 49th anniversary of his birth this very same day. As the good doctor wrote about this uniquely Seussian character, “Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is youer than you.”

Our goal is to keep doing this blog long enough that we have enough content that recurs on a specific day to cover the entire year, thusly pre-filling our editorial calendar. We're getting there.