I am the man who will fight for your honour

I'd like to see the eye-tracking data for this picture.

It’s official: my Seattle Mariners suck.  They suck blue whale, showing an inability to beat other mediocre teams, even when The Helix is pitching.  And even though they’ve begun to jettison highly-paid dead weight like Richie Sexson, this means even more regular playing time for more reasonably-priced dead weight like Miguel Cairo and Willie Bloomquist (the Ben Affleck of Major League Baseball.)

To make things even better, the Mariners are now going out of their way to acquire unwanted dead weight, in the form of one-time fantasy sleeper Craig Wilson.  This is simply inexcusable.  Yes, Sexson was overpriced garbage, but his level of suck was far more tolerable than that of Cairo, Vidro, Boomquist, or Wilson.  If the Mariners are going to try to lose by stacking the roster with worthless players, they should at least have the decency to sign Jose Lima.

Now some of you idiots might be saying, “But Shawn, Jose Lima is playing for Camden Riversharks, and he’ll be starting tomorrow against your beloved Somerset Patriots.  Why would he ever want to leave the bucolic environs of Camden for a shithole like Seattle?”  I concede those are valid points, however, I propose the Mariners make this move after the All-Star break, as to not deprive General Admission of an opportunity to see Lima Time.

Once the Mariners have signed Lima, they can make Lima Time the focus of the promotions for the rest of the year.  Lima Time bobbleheads, Lima Time balloons, maybe even Lima Time Swatch watches.  Sure, the Mariners suck and going to sporting events is wicked pricey, but by marketing the remainder of the season with an appropriate level of self-deprecating kitsch, the Mariners can attract the untapped pretentious asshole demographic.  This is a demographic with great numbers in the Pacific Northwest, and they have plenty of disposable income, since they don’t have cable or video games.  Here’s how the Summer of Lima Time would work.

In addition to making Jose Lima the new face of the franchise, the M’s should set their pitching rotation as follows: The Helix, Lima Time, Bedard (assuming he’s able to stay off the DL (which he won’t)), Lima Time, Washburn/Silva.  This might seem extreme, but let me explain myself.  Washburn and Silva are lucky to make it through five innings, so pitching then on the same day should alleviate any need to tax the bullpen for their start.  That leaves the bullpen available to come in for post-Lima Time, which I assume will be at least four or five innings per start.  This rotation give the Mariners’ two decent starters normal work, two of their overpaid mediocre starters a situation where they hopefully won’t strain the bullpen, and, most importantly, two days of Lima Time.  If my math is correct, this means that roughly 40% of the remaining season would be Lima Time.

So there you have it, a sure-fire way to guarantee a high level of Lima Time to replace the Mariners’ current high level of suck.  It won’t make the Mariners any better, but it will make things a lot more interesting.  C’mon Mariners, give the fans what they want, and give me a justification for buying mlb.tv again this year.

This is how I feel about food made with any spice stronger than Lawry’s seasoned salt.

This post is to inform all you idiots out there that, despite what you might hear from the British, I am not a racist.  You see, the Brits have issued a 336-page guide informing nurseries and other places that might work with children to be on the lookout for signs of toddler racism. One of the tell-tale signs of youthful racism is intolerance for foreign foods.  So, since I do not care much for the ethnic foods, the British National Children’s Bureau considers me a racist.

Now, I know some of you idiots might be saying, “But Shawn, why should you whether some paranoid British nanny group thinks?”  I am highly conscious of the Brits’ opinion of me.  After all, many awesome people are British.  Christopher Lee: British.  Stephen Hawking: British, I think. (His accent is difficult to place.) And, most importantly, Morrissey is British and, even more importantly, Morrissey hates racism.  If I’m a racist, by British standards, then that means that Morrissey hates me.  I don’t want Morrissey to hate me.  So, in order to avoid becoming to object of Morrissey’s derision, let me state, as clearly as possibly, I am not a racist.

Yes, I’ll admit, I don’t care for ethnic food.  I don’t like Mexican food, Japanese food, Middle Eastern food or any of the other kinds of food that hip young people pretend to enjoy.  But, contrary to what the National Children’s Bureau might think, just because I say, “Yuck!” when presented with unfamiliar foreign food doesn’t mean I’m racist.  

I’ve got nothing against Mexicans or Japanese people.  In fact I have a large collection of Ichiro! t-shirts, including a Team Japan t-shirt from the World Baseball Classic.  Just because I don’t care for the food of a particular ethnic group doesn’t mean I hate those people.  It just means that I hate flavour.  

I have no tolerance for spices, sauces, and dips of any kind.  I don’t use dressing on my salad.  I was in my twenties before I began to use a thimbleful of sauce on my spaghetti.  When I get a hot dog, I top it only with ketchup.  Sandwiches I take either plain of with a light swab of mayonnaise.  Yes, I know that when I buy a sandwich I’m paying for the right to top it with lettuce, tomatoes, peppers and whatnot, but I don’t want any of that.  Sure, I might like it if I try it, but I fear all varieties of change, especially change that directly impacts the composition of my sandwiches. 

What I’m trying to say, in my own roundabout, poorly composed manner, is that hatred for food does not necessarily imply a hatred for the people who make the food.  While it might be a good idea to encourage tolerance and respect for other people, particularly at a young age, correlating a child’s palate with racial tolerance is indefensibly stupid.  Some people just don’t like spicy or flavourful food.  They shouldn’t become subjects of Morrissey’s scorn simply because they don’t care for the baba ghanoush.

If you’re edged ’cause I’m weazin all your grindage, just chill.

So Long, Clyde… More great news on the monkey eradication front.  It seems that the orangutan population is much smaller than originally estimated, meaning that wild orangutan population is declining even faster than the pro-monkey alarmists has originally estimated.  This is fantastic.

Orangutans are the most deceptively charismatic of all the dastardly monkey breeds.  Their silly raspberries, sloppy kisses, and wanton destruction of posh hotels have entertained millions of dimwitted monkey sympathizers.  With the orangs out of the picture, the monkey revolution will lose its most photogenic weapon.

Unfortunately, there are some who believe that the declining orangutan population is a bad thing.  The Great Ape Trust (an ignorant cog in the vast monkey propaganda machine) even goes so far as to recommend “mechanisms to mitigate and reduce human-orangutan conflict.”  This is the kind of passive monkey appeasement that will eventually lead to World War III.  The Great Ape Trust should be ashamed of themselves.

Jesus II: Electric Boogaloo… So some dirt-digging nerds have come across and ancient tablet that may or may not mention a messiah who dies and comes back to life three days later.  This might not seem that exciting at first, but the tablet is being dated as coming from before the birth of Jesus.  This particular reading of the tablet is bound to be controversial, being as it comes from an “iconoclastic” Bible studies professor.  If this translation had come from a mainstream Bible studies professor specializing on the political atmosphere of Jesus’ day, like the ones who are always on Oprah or Ellen talking about the political ramifications of King Herod’s death, then it might have a little more credence.  As it stands, this tablet doesn’t seem to definitely establish the existence of an ur-Jesus.  What it does do is provide hope for all scholars of ancient Hebrew who are looking for the opportunity to fill in the blanks of an ancient document with text that supports their personal agenda or point of view.  It’s like a first century B.C. Mad Libs.

That’s Not A Museum… A new branch of Madame Tussauds Wax Museum just opened in Berlin.  It features a wax depiction of a pissed-off Hitler in his bunker.  Not surprisingly, this is causing some controversy in Germany, where depictions of Hitler and Nazism are generally a no-no.  People might ask, “Why would they even bother putting a wax Hitler in the museum?”  Well, first of all, it’s a museum, so the only way for it to have any sort of success or relevance is for it to stir up some kind of bullshit controversy.  That’s how museums work.  But this Madame Tussauds is more than just an ordinary museum.  It’s also a training facility, preparing tourists of the world for the eventual coming of Zombie Hitler.  

If you remember your history class, Regular Hitler was quite the handful.  According to Wikipedia, World War II resulted in the loss of 72 million lives.  And it took the combined efforts of the US, the USSR and Britain to stop Regular Hitler.  Just think of the trouble Zombie Hitler could cause.  That’s why Madame Tussaud’s established this museum/training facility in Berlin.  And it seems to be working.  A 41-year-old Berlin man showed he’s ready to fight Zombie Hitler when he jumped over a table and ripped the head off of the wax Hitler.  That’s the strategy we’ll need to use with Zombie Hitler comes around wanting to annex our brains.  So kudos to you, German dude who decapitated a wax Hitler.  Your paramilitary skills are an inspiration to us all.

Tonight’s Arizona Diamondbacks game is being presented as a tribute to the men and women serving in the Armed Forces.  They have a live, if somewhat shaky, link to a medical unit in Iraq and they are also letting local family members talk to their relatives and spouses serving in Iraq.  That’s all well and good–a fitting tribute for the Fourth of July (I believe they also did something like this on Memorial Day)–but I’ve got two problems.

First, they seem to be spending more time with the troops than covering the actual game.  Right now the screen has about 25% devoted to the game, 25% to the live feed from Iraq, and the rest of the screen is a waving American flag and the logo/slogan, “This One’s For You.”  I’ve got no problem with the D’Backs and FSN Arizona wanting to support the troops by broadcasting the game to the Armed Forces and giving the troops a little screen time, but it’s like I’m watching the game in picture-in-picture.  D’Backs announcers Daren Sutton and Mark Grace generally spend very little time talking about the actual game, instead spending the bulk of the broadcast looking for clever signs (”clever”, in announcer parlance, means a sign that mentions an announcer by name), spotting redheads in the crowd, and making references to “adult beverages,” but today things are even worse.  

The first job of any baseball announcing team should be to announce the game.  Grace and Sutton do a miserable job of that on an ordinary day, but today they’re not even trying to follow the action of the game. But who cares about that?  I mean, it’s not like Mariners cast-off Cha Seung Baek is throwing a no-hitter or anything.  Oh, wait.  He is throwing a no-hitter.  Well, I suppose it’s bad announcer manners to mention a no-hitter, so completely ignoring a game where a no-hitter is being thrown must be acceptable protocol.

My second problem with the D’Backs broadcast is the egregious lack of privacy they’re giving the troops and their spouses.  It seems that every solider featured is seeing a spouse or infant child for the first time in weeks or months, so you’d think it would be an emotional moment for those involved.  After all, that’s why FSN is showing this: to leech off the emotional connection between separated families.  

The downside to all this is that the families have no privacy.  Every conversation has been awkward small talk, the kind of conversation you make when you see someone you know, but don’t really like, at the grocery store.  ”So, what have you been up to?”  ”Nothing much, how ’bout you?”  That’s not the kind of dialogue you’d want military families to have when given the rare opportunity to talk face-to-face.  But, since the conversations are being televised around the world, and since Sutton insists on interrupting to ask the solider if he gets to play any softball in Iraq, these meetings aren’t nearly as personal or meaningful as they could be.  

It would have been far more tasteful for FSN Arizona to give the families some private talk time and then invite the spouses on the broadcast to talk about the experience of being a military family in a time of war.  I suppose that could be going on behind the scenes, and I certainly hope it is.  But as it stands, this is the worst baseball broadcast I’ve ever seen, and that includes the various games this season where a player has twisted/fractured a testicle.  

Minimal coverage of the game + exploiting emotional family reunions in the name of patriotism + the 2008 San Diego Padres (I’m a Mariners fan and I even I look down upon the Padres) = bad television.