Category: Uncategorized

When I left the house on Thursday, Spacebunny was anticipating that she’d seen the last of the monstrous trophy that the kids had won for our soccer club last spring. It’s a traveling trophy, retained by the winning team for a year, then returned to the sponsoring tournament. As a rule, it stays in the coach’s house, preferably in a conspicuous place where it can be admired by all and sundry.

Last year, the boys from our little club shocked the two biggest clubs in the state, defeating the local professional squad’s kiddy adjunct twice in claiming the tournament championship. Repeating was going to be tough since our goalie had moved up and the professional team asked our two best players to join them after seeing how they played in last year’s tournament. One was too old to play for our team this year anyway, but our little captain wasn’t and I encouraged him to go play for them. It’s a wonderful opportunity for him, but even so, he insisted on finishing out his last season at this level with us before switching clubs.

After last year’s debacle, the professional squad declined to show up but the other big team, Blue, was there and they were pretty heavy favorites since they’d won a major tournament the week before, one in which we’d only finished seventh. But I finally managed to find a goalie, a third-string kid from the pro team who never got to play in tournaments and was delighted to hook up with us, and I was convinced that it was an unusually small field shutting down our open passing game that had been our problem.

We were a little nervy in the first game, winning 2-1, but the kids soon settled down and cruised 3-0 and 8-1 over the next two squads. Blue was cruising too and most of the parents were pretty pessimistic about our chances against them after seeing how they were effortlessly dismantling their opponents. Being in the same group, we met in the fourth game and it was a hard-fought battle that finished as a scoreless tie. I was pretty sure we had been the better team, though, as our attackers blew four or five solid chances created by our midfielders, while their two or three chances were more mistakes on the part of our defense. But the sheer individual skill of their players was a little intimidating.

Either way, it was clear that our two teams were the best in the tournament, as the other group looked relatively weak, so I told our kids to be ready to play Blue again in the finals. They weren’t frightened by the prospect, although some of the parents – two of whom are very soccer-savvy as they played and coached professionally in Holland and Switzerland, respectively – were still less than optimistic since the skills of the Blue players were clearly superior to ours.

But I’ve coached these kids for three years now, I know them well, and the difference between them and every other team I’ve seen is that we don’t have a quitter in the bunch. An all-day tournament takes a lot out of 6 to 8-year olds, so I was confident that our spirit and tactics would prove more important in the end than their technical ability. Both teams finished up with three wins and one tie in the group, with both scoring 13 goals and allowing three for a tied goal difference as well. I offered to give Blue first position in our group since I wanted my guys to go into the final with the confidence of having beaten the top team in group B, but the tournament director insisted of flipping a coin instead. Fortunately, we lost and ended up in second position anyhow.

The boys came out ready to spit fire and I was reminded of why I absolutely hate women in sports. The top team in group B was a girl’s team, most of whom stood about a head taller than my players. Nevertheless, four girls managed to get hurt over the course of the game, we had a goal disallowed because our player’s head hit the goalie’s jaw AFTER he’d already kicked the ball into the net and nearly every foul was called against us, even when a girl pulled down one of our players down to the ground by the shirt and then tripped over him trying to get to the ball. But the ref couldn’t make up for how we destroyed them in every other aspect of the game and we won 5-0. Even better, I was able to pull three of my starters halfway through and let them rest for the final, which was thirty minutes instead of the usual twenty.

Seeing how Blue barely survived a scoreless game that resulted in a penalty shootout against the second-place team in the other group gave the guys plenty of confidence going into the final. The Blue players looked more than a little worn out after squeaking out a 6-5 win in the shootout, so I modified our lineup to go with two midfielders instead of our usual two defenders. With that more offensively minded set, we hit them hard from the onset, scored two goals in the first ten minutes and had them on their heels.

They’re a good team, though, and they have a good coach. He instructed their little Brazilian forward to jump on the ball being passed out to our defenders from the goalie and they stole a goal that way right before halftime. When we gave up a handball in the area early in the second half, it looked as if they’d even the score, but our goalie made a great save on the penalty and their heads began to hang.

Their heads hung even lower when I instructed our goalie to beat their press by punting the ball – he can kick it almost the length of the little field – and our bright little captain anticipated the bounce and headed it past their goalie. The kids were scenting blood and a second header, this one on a corner, made it 4-1 to trigger the rout. By the time the final whistle blew, we were leading 6-1 and our substitutes were aggressively taking the game to their starters.

I couldn’t be prouder of those little guys, each and every one of them. Two years ago, in their first tournament, these very same boys lost to Blue 14-0. But they didn’t quit then and I’ve never seen them do so since, no matter what the score. This tournament was just a small step in the long journey of their lives and they may not even remember it by the time they grow to adulthood. But to me, they will always be lion-hearted champions, twice over.

And it was, of course, a pleasure to walk in the door with a certain silver monstrosity under my arm. “Honey, I’ve got some bad news for you….”

Morgan of the Lake reveals a few gaps in her knowledge:

No, in Vox’s defense I didn’t read Nathalie’s original comment. But still, I expect someone who touts his Mensa credentials like [supersecret identity deleted] does to be so willing to roll in the gutter with his detractors. And you got me, Crystal. I can’t help but like someone who treasures the right of women to vote. On this board I think that makes two of us.

1. Tout: Definition: brag
Synonyms: acclaim, ballyhoo, boost, herald, laud, plug, praise, proclaim, promote, publicize, push, show off, steer, tip, tip off, trumpet

I don’t think a single mention at the bottom of my WND bio fits this definition at all. Do you see any prominent mention of it on my web site or my blog? I find it interesting how I am always considered to bragging about one of my memberships, but never the other two which are mentioned in the same sentence. It is, of course, nothing more than simple insecurity on the part of my critics.

2. It may come as a surprise to her, (assuming that Morgana left out the word “don’t” before “expect”), I will cheerfully engage with pretty much anyone at pretty much any level. I’ve engaged in public debates with famous authors, fought on stage in front of a crowd in night clubs and interviewed the man I consider to be the greatest living novelist. Steel sharpens steel both intellectually and physically.

3. Voting is vastly overrated as it takes place in most recognized tyrannies, is not a right and is suspiciously similar to the form of brainwashing that involves forcing the victim to confess what the brainwasher intends to become his reality. Two-party representative democracy is a sophisticated form of tyranny disguised as freedom that one will find nowhere in the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution or the Bill of Rights. Depriving women of this “right” is very much akin to refusing to allow them to sell themselves into slavery; that, too, is a restriction on their ability to act.

I daresay that the majority of people on this blog disagree with me on this issue. That’s fine, if all my ideas were warmly embraced by all and sundry, I’d be shocked.

4. Follow the Latin into Greek, my little maleducated donnicciola. The very name is not only an announcement, it’s a joke. On would-be outers like yourself.

George steps over the line in asserting his heterosexuality:

“What would be your response be if I my planted my hand on Space Bunny’s well proportioned and firm rear end? Better yet, what would be her response?”

I’m extremely relaxed about such things. I expect most guys to be attracted to her; if you weren’t, I’d assume there’s something wrong with you. In any case, I’d likely ask you what the [insert offensive word of your choice here] you thought you were doing and inform you that she was with me, giving you the chance to extricate yourself from the situation. Spacebunny would probably slap your hand automatically, then ask the same question, albeit in a more heated manner.

If you did not back down, I’d inform you that you’d been warned and serious injury was imminent. If that did not suffice, I’d immediately render you unconscious or so badly injured that you were incapable of getting off the ground unaided.

I have administered three violent beatings in my life, the worst of which left me covered in the other guy’s blood from my fingertips to my elbows. The experience was intoxicating at first, but somewhat sickening after the adrenaline wore off. In my opinion, a simple proposition, however inappropriate, does not call for that level of immediate response.

I understand that some men flip out irrationally over homosexual advances. My brother certainly does, but I’ve always found such responses to be overly dramatic.

You’re stuck inside Fahrenheit 451. Which book do you want to be?

I think this is a poorly worded way of asking: what fictional universe would you most like to inhabit? The answer is simple. John Norman’s Gor.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?

Camille Paglia.

The last book you bought is?

The Return of Depression Economics by Paul Krugman.

What are you currently reading?

Assassin of Gor by John Norman
15 Decisive Battles of the World by Edward Creasy
The Song of Roland

I just finished David Brin’s Uplift books three days ago. The first three were quite good, the second two rather less so.

Five books you would take to a desert island

Foucault’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco
The Dark is Rising by Susan Cooper
Magister Ludi by Hermann Hesse
The Cambridge Medieval History Series
Watership Down by Richard Adams

There has been a minor uproar about Bill Maher’s recent comments about the recent Fox News obsession, wherein he put forth the notion that children being “gently serviced” by a pop star was preferable to receiving a savage beating such as he had once received in the schoolyard.

I think there’s a few interesting points there. It is at least arguable that such service, even if one is talking about Michael and not Janet or LaToya, might be preferable to a savage beating, if one is simply looking at the short term consequences. Maher is a left-liberal – he calls himself a libertarian but he has no idea what one actually is – and so naturally he has the liberal’s complete inability to foresee even the most predictable long-term effects.

For while the short-term effect of a hand job is rather enjoyable, the longer term effects can be problematic when the servicer is of the same sex. The sexual imprinting that takes place at a young age can be very difficult to overcome, which is part of the plot of the movie Mysterious Skin, in which homosexual childhood abuse eventually results in the young victim becoming an amoral gay prostitute as an adult.

Given the possibility of lifelong sexual confusion, even Maher might consider the savage beating to be preferable, since the eventual consequences of being taught a painful lesson about being smaller and weaker tend to manifest themselves in a positive determination to grow stronger and less defenseless. I ran into the smallest guy in my high school class a few years ago; he’s now the state powerlifting champion.

In summary, I don’t think Maher said anything outrageous, I simply think he made an understandable but incorrect and superficial point.

in2n writes:

Kind of like VDs comments, come to think of it, a guy who considers it no conflict of his Christian lifestyle to write F— You on public posts, advocates the indiscriminant killing of FBI agents, and thinks taking explosives to public schools works in society’s best interest.

There is no conflict between Christian faith and writing the word “fuck” or using it in conversation with friends inclined to a more vulgar persuasion. I find it tremendously ironic that many societally-conscious Christians are far more squeamish about using common words for sexual intercourse, defecation, urination and genitalia than they are about the only things they are commanded not to do, namely, taking the Lord’s name in vain and swearing oaths. I don’t recall where it is written that in order to be saved, one “must believe with his heart and confess with his tongue that Jesus Christ is Lord… and don’t you dare say fuck, either.”

True, Paul writes in Colossians 3:7-9: “You used to walk in these ways, in the life you once lived. But now you must rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips. Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices.”

In other words, using “filthy language” is right up there with getting mad and telling white lies. Is it better not to? Yes, of course, but I’ll consider taking people like in2n seriously when they get as righteously wroth with a little old lady saying “by Heaven” or a wife getting bent out of shape because her husband forgot to take out the trash as they do about someone cracking a vulgar Hitchhiker’s joke.

In general, I do tend to try avoiding the use of such language, not only in person but on this blog since there are many regular readers who find it distasteful. However, this is simply common courtesy, not an endorsement of the moral position of the religious language police.

For what is today condemned as verbal filth by nothing more than social mores will, over time, often eventually be embraced by them. Languages are dynamic, and I daresay that the word “fuck” is already far more acceptable in today’s society than “nigger” or even “faggot”. Would in2n assert that every self-professed Christian who ever used the racial epithet in the eighteenth and nineteenth century is now burning in Hell? It’s certainly possible, considering that no one actually knows precisely on what God’s judgment is based, but I don’t think that’s the reasonable interpretation based on God’s Word. It certainly doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the fruits on which we are told to pass our own judgment.

Moreover, I did not advocate the indiscriminant killing of anyone, I merely hoped for justice in the agents’ murder of an innocent young girl, justice which the corrupt police and courts have utterly denied. I still sincerely hope that God will provide that which Man has not. I have yet to see anyone attempt to prove that destroying the public schools would not be in society’s best interest; does in2n seriously believe that Jesus Christ would support the anti-christian secularist brainwashing that currently takes place there?

I also seem to recall that Jesus Christ’s only stated opinion on a public building was that it would be demolished. If one follows the omnniderigents’ practice of extrapolating general rules from solitary Biblical actions, one must conclude that the destruction of the public school buildings is not merely desirable, but a veritable Scriptural mandate.

UPDATE – Digital Cowboy happens to have made this timely post yesterday: For those that didn’t pick up on the title of this post, it’s a quote from Tombstone. For those that did pick it up, did you know that in the time that movie was set, it was an expletive? In the mid and late 1800’s, the word “kidding” was used the way “f***king” is used today. It makes sense if you think a bit about it.

I can’t help but relish the notion of in2n unleashing the full fury of the Pharasaical pulpit the next time someone says that they’re “just kidding” in shis presence.

UPDATE: I’ve always been curious about the notion of so-called profanity. If it is derived from the concept of a sacriligious use of that which is holy, then the logical assumption is that those offended by “profane” terms related to the excretionary function actually worship – or at least hold holy – the stank.

Bob Novak on the unveiling of the IRS:

A Senate rider inserted in an emergency appropriations bill in the dead of the night, which would close a rare window into political foul play at the Internal Revenue Service, was quietly removed Tuesday in Senate-House negotiations. That offers full disclosure of a major scandal that has been percolating for a decade….

Although none of the four Republican letter-signers sits on Appropriations, they prevailed. In the Senate-House conference Tuesday, the House objected to the Dorgan amendment, and the Senate receded. The report may soon be public, and people who have read it say the worst suspicions about the IRS will be confirmed.

Actually, Bob, that’s not even close to the worst suspicions about the IRS. But it will be nice to see them exposed for the executive branch hitmen that they are.

The commentariat has lost one of its most unique members:

Retired Army Col. David Hackworth, one of the most decorated veterans in U.S. history who became a vocal advocate for military reform, died yesterday in Mexico at 74.

Hackworth returned from Vietnam as a strong critic of the war, later becoming a journalist and author of several best-selling books. He had written a weekly column for WorldNetDaily for seven years.

Hackworth was in Mexico for treatments of bladder cancer, which he had battled for some time.

I never met Col. Hackworth, but I always respected his opinions even when I disagreed with them. Unlike those of us who have never served in the military, Hackworth never forgot that grand geopolitical strategies depend entirely in the end on the individual soldier and he was their greatest advocate, constantly putting pressure on those he called “perfumed princes” to treat them fairly and give them what they need to do their job.

Back in the days when I watched more Fox, I always enjoyed his appearances there, as his casual black mocknecks and laconic air of being half-amused at the host’s questions was as individual as his column subjects. His column was one of those that set WND’s opinion page apart and it will be badly missed.

I hope that WND will be wise enough to find a milblogger to step in to fill Col. Hackworth’s large standard-issue boots instead of another clueless conservative du jour.

Craig Westover interviews him:

On “New Urbanism” and gentrification

…it goes with everything the “new urbanist” movement is all about, which is ironically in a lot of ways the abandonment of the project of dealing with the poor and disadvantaged and going for what they call the “choice rider” and a tool for gentrification. And not a very good tool for gentrification.

In a lot of ways what I think of the new urbanism as baby boomers wanting to move back to the city and those “really unpleasant, nasty to deal with minorities and foreigners and all these people are in our way — they ride the bus, so we don’t want to ride the bus, so we want a nice bright shiny train.”

Essentially it’s an attempt by all the white-flighters to take back something they thought they didn’t want. But now that they’re getting older — they’re empty nesters — they want it back, so they either reproduce it in the suburbs, which some of them do, or they want to take the city back and sort of gentrify this area — not through economic means, but by the government imposing it on people. “You go away. We take it. And we make it how we want it. And you pay for it, by the way.”

Say, David, next time why don’t you just kick them in the crotch, then have your dog mark them. They’d probably find it less painfula and humiliating.

Jayuf sees all, knows all:

Will, after reading a VD post like this, always look to Me-So-Michelle first.

I didn’t mention anything about the First Lady’s little stand-up routine at first because it was such an absolute non-issue that I thought it was going to blow over as soon as the first white woman disappeared or someone made a right turn on red in Los Angeles. Despite my low opinion of Me So, I honestly didn’t think she’d latch onto this one.

But then I saw some Corner posts today indicating that apparently she was unable to resist the temptation to play clueless cultural scold. Again. Following fast on the heels of her discovery of the Goth subculture, I think this makes it official; Malkin has achieved her goal of becoming the Maureen Dowd of the Republican Party. Perhaps one day soon, she’ll realize her dream of getting a Fox News show where she, too, can interview the fiances of runaway brides. EXCLUSIVE interviews, no less.

By the way, I’d like to assure everyone that I’m not possessed, it’s just that I inadvertantly rolled my eyes a little too hard and they’re having some trouble finding their way back into position.

It’s at moments like this that I realize how many light years away I am from my fellows in the right-wing commmentariat. In fact, the first thing that popped into my mind when I read the first wild overreactions to Mrs. Bush’s joke was a song oft-sung by my college rugby team… that poor wallaby….