Thursday, June 07, 2007


It's a poopery post, people ... hubris gone wiiiild ... unwaning arrogance -- the unwaning arrogance of several obscure 1980s-Chicago politics/media (i.e., Harold Washington/Mike Royko) references in a row, right in the first sentence of this post, the one explaining that it's a throwaway post of unconnected crap, kind of like a Neil Steinberg column, except much less horrific. Items probably to be added gradual-like over the course of this windy evening, as I think them up ... so check back periodically for updates. Hah. Right.

The Weather Item. So much for the Windy City thing being a myth. Holy shit. Hatten down the batches, folks -- we have a midwestern SuperStorm® on the way tonight. Tommy Skilling promises 90 mph winds, flying monkeys, and this time the wicked witch wins instead of that insipid bitch Dorothy.

Yes, there is a 100% chance of falling-tree-induced death tonight in the entire Middle West region, as well as a 1,000% chance of toronados, cieras, and cordobas -- every type of crappy 1970s Detroit car -- rusting all over the place and taking up one-and-a-half parking spots, each.

So, as Hawk Harrelson would say, "Strap it on tight and shove it in deep" ... or whatever it is he says. Something creepy and disturbing. "Can o' porn!"

The Cubs Item. One thing bugs me about the Cubs' new backup catcher, Koyie Hill. Koyie don't live on hills! They live in ponds! If his name was Koyie Pond, he would merit his own blog post, in the "Cool Chicago Sports Names" category. Or, at the very least, he'd qualify to be Autumn Champion's landscape architect.

But the bright side to the name Koyie Hill is this: Now the Cubs just need to sign Frankie Valli as a pitcher and they will have the most antonymic battery since Liza Minnelli walloped David Gest. Does that joke even make sense? I hope not.

The Item Where I Make a Smartass Remark About Feder's Column. Yesterday's R-b F-d-r joint declareth thus:

At least one Chicagoan was delighted by news Tuesday that the New York-based Museum of Television and Radio has been renamed the Paley Center for Media (after the late CBS founder William S. Paley).

"That means the only museum of radio and television in America is right here in Chicago," said Bruce DuMont, founder and president of the Museum of Broadcast Communications here.

"They've abandoned a brand and a mission," DuMont said of his counterparts. "We don't walk away from the word 'museum.'"

Uh ... OK. But, Mr. DuMont, last I heard, the Museum of Broadcast Communications didn't even have a building yet, since it moved out of the Cultural Center location in ... when was that? 2003? 2002? A long time ago. I haven't been by 400 N. State in a while -- which is where the new location has been promised to be ... located -- but I have heard nothing about it being anywhere near completion. So these arrogant and misguided Noo Yawkas might be abandoning a "brand" -- or, more accurately, a generic or at least highly descriptive designation that is surely a weak and pretty worthless mark -- but if they have a physical plant, maybe you should knock off the wisecracks and get back to raising some money to hand over to the Illinois construction mafia. Just a suggestion.

In closing: Lorna Luft. That's just to get a reference to Judy Garland or progeny in all of the first three items. Whew. Wasn't sure I could pull that off. Or why.

The "Nice to Get Some Company" Item. Finally I'm not the only one in town boostering them some women's softball. This item from one of the finest websites ever to have aitched a tee-em-ell, The Beachwood Reporter, tells it like it is:

[N]ext to rugby and Australian rules football, women's softball is largely an undiscovered gem that helps make ESPN2's programming far more interesting on the whole than ESPN's. Screw the Cubs and the White Sox, folks; these women play ball like there's no tomorrow - and somehow without the grinding boredom that makes Major League Baseball famous. Christ, if unpaid college chicks can go nine innings without making it feel like you're watching slugs cross the road, why can't grown dudes making more money than God for a living do the same?

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