Captain Inertia
Friday, October 31, 2003
 
I WILL NOT ARGUE ABOUT THIS, PT. II

Sour Patch Kids are definitely the best candy out there. They beat Starburst. They beat Skittles (even Sour Skittles), long the #1 front-runner. They certainly beat anything with chocolate...I honestly cannot imagine ever picking, say, Snickers or even a Baby Ruth over Sour Patch Kids, unless it was a) to provide some variety or b) wash down the Sour Patch Kids. And if you think differently, you're a looney.
Thursday, October 30, 2003
 
GAGA: DO NOT CLICK ON THIS LINK.

The rest of you: click for some guy's assessment of the 100 scariest movie scenes of all time. I was actually scared to click on some of them, which oughtta tell you what a wuss I am.

EDITED TO ADD: Link should now work.
Wednesday, October 29, 2003
 
BACK. FROM OUTER SPACE.

Sorry blogging so light recently. Must...break...free....of....vicelike...grip...of....work.

To tide you over, here's the exact text printed on a business card I found on the train the other day:

Philip John Cardillo, Esq.
Mayor of New York City, 2005

If you need an issue to be addressed in your community, please knock on my door, ring my bell, wait until I come home. 2246 First Avenue, Apt. 3, New York, NY.


Things like that are what make living in New York, uh, not always great, but always interesting.
Tuesday, October 21, 2003
 
THAT HAD TO HURT

Bill Simmons, AKA the Boston Sports Guy, is my favorite columnist from ESPN.com...he's the one from whom I stole the phrase "I will not argue about this." (As in, "pretzel RODS is an acceptable variant term for pretzel LOGS. I will not argue about this.") Check out his two brilliant columns on the recent Red Sox loss: this one first, then this one.

And now, having read the second one, you'll be able to appreciate my witty anecdote about how, while watching Fox last night, I repeated the phrase "HIS FATHER IS THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY!" approximately 400,000 times. Out loud. In my empty apartment.
 
YOU MAKE ME FEEL

Now, ordinarily, I'm very not-hot on stuff written by this publication (exception: the great Nat Hentoff). Hiyeva, they're damn right about this. Last night, while shopping at the fine Key Foods grocery on 5th Avenue in Brooklyn, I was again struck by what astoundingly good music they play. To the point where, um, there was maybe a little air-singing-into-imaginary-microphone going on to the tune of "You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman." You had to be there.
Thursday, October 16, 2003
 
STEVE BARTMAN

is the Cubs fan who tried to catch the foul ball in the 8th inning of game 6 against the Marlins. Pretty much all of Cubdom hates this guy: they need a goat to blame game 6 on, and he's the guy.

Yesterday, he released this statement.


 
NOW, IT'S OVER.

(sigh) Thanks to everybody who put up with me the past couple weeks. More soon.
Wednesday, October 15, 2003
 
IT IS NOT OVER YET.

That's all I've got to say right now.
Tuesday, October 14, 2003
 
BACK FROM BOSTON

And in other news, I've found my dream job.


Wednesday, October 08, 2003
 
ANOTHER REASON I HOPE THE CUBS DON'T PLAY THE RED SOX IN THE POST-SEASON

Why can't we have anything like this in the post-season? And why, oh, Lord, why, can't I find a copy of this video on the internet?
 
CURSE YOU, MIKE LOWELL, AND YOUR HUGE-ASS EYEBROWS.

Dammit.
Monday, October 06, 2003
 
RADIO RADIO

KEXP, in Seattle, is without exception the best radio station I've ever heard. And you can listen to it (FREE) over the internet. In one afternoon, they played Queens of the Stone Age, "Award Tour" by a Tribe Called Quest, something by My Morning Jacket, Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, and capped it all off by playing "Mama Said Knock You Out" by LL Cool J, the first time I've heard that song in YEARS. Pretty awesome.
 
TIGER COMPLAINS ABOUT HIGH RENTS IN NYC

Wokka wokka wokka. Between Big Joe the ape and this guy, it's been an exciting week for wildlife on the east coast.
 
ART OF THE NON-APOLOGY APOLOGY

For those of you who aren't baseball or sports fans, I apologize. I vividly remember, in my pre-Cubs life, the bewilderment with which I regarded people who got exercised about sports. "It's just a game," I thought. "OK, I can understand being a little bit involved, but to actually get depressed? Angry? Joyful? C'mon."

Ha, ha, ha.

Anyway, just hold on, and in a few weeks, Captain Inertia will go back to blogging about religion, popular culture, things that "'matter" in an "objective" way, etc., etc. For now, I am totally in thrall to my freakishly parochial obsession with a Chicago-area sports team.




 
HOLY COW!

Cubs beat Braves. Advance to NLCS against Florida Marlins.

Am I in some alternate universe? What's happening here? I'm supposed to be watching hockey right now!

Dusty Baker = Jedi master.

At the start of this season, I thought that there was NO WAY the terrible Cubs of 2002 would be able to make the playoffs. The most we could hope for was a return to respectability--85 wins, whatever, a run at the playoffs, maybe. I never thought they would make it, and I never ever thought they would beat the Braves (that's the 100-win Braves).

But now all bets are off. The Cubs beat the Marlins 4-2 during the year; we have home-field advantage. We could legitimately beat them and advance to the World Series. And then? What would I do then? Answer: actually light on fire out of sheer excitement.

I was talking to my sister last night, and I said, "This is like having a sick child." And it is--you care about what happens to them immensely, you can't stop thinking and worrying about them, and if something bad happens to them, you feel terrible. Part of me (and I'm ashamed to admit this) actually wanted the Cubbies to lose, so the emotional ordeal would be over. At least if they lost I could go back to having a normal life--not having to pound tables in smoky Brooklyn bars on weeknights and shriek at the television and scare passers-by. Now, I'm stuck with it for at least another week--probably more.

I don't think they can do it. I don't think they can win the Series--they couldn't beat the Yankees, not to say anything of the Marlins. But you can bet your sweet bippy I'm hope they do. And I'm gonna be there until it ends, drinking beer, biting my fingernails (or trying not to), shouting, cursing, ranting, and having a FANTASTIC time.




Wednesday, October 01, 2003
 
THIS SHOULDN'T MAKE ME LAUGH...

but it does, very hard. It helps if you try to use his name in a sentence: "Well....we'd better ask Dr. Bonk about this." Or "yeah, the erudition of Dr. Bonk is pretty amazing." Anyone? Anyone?
 
I THINK I CAN, I THINK I CAN, I THINK I CAN

Sssshhhh....

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