Barack Obama built you a robot

I’ve been a little busy lately. Between learning the ins and outs of lacrosse, LOST and a stint in North Carolina, I haven’t had much time to blog. (Actually, I’ve been wasting my time wasting money.)

As previously mentioned before, I’m trying to learn the game of lacrosse for work. This is what I’ve learned:

Lacrosse is more boring than cricket.

For some God-forsaken reason, Marylanders eat up this sport. I can’t understand why. Maybe because Baltimoreans are soft, complain about 40-degree weather in February and cancel collegiate classes for “inclement weather” when there’s a slight less-than-an-inch dusting on the ground. (Side-rant: I’m sick of people using the word “inclement” to describe the weather. Inclement is defined as “severe in temper or action” and “unmerciful.” A light snow is not inclement. I don’t want to sound like the oldest 22-year-old on the planet, but my alma mater has canceled classes once since the late 1970s. As much as I love having the day off, if teachers can’t take driving in flurries, they should just shut down the Baltimore County Public School System as we speak. Hacks.) Obviously, Marylanders couldn’t stand bearing the cold temperatures of hockey arenas or the tremendous amount of violence it entails so it would seem nature they would flock to the dumbed-down version of the sport — lacrosse.

If you have never met a lacrosse fan or attended a lacrosse event, you’re missing out. These people are nuts! Of the 378 people who attended the d3 men’s lacrosse game, I can guarantee you that at least 70 percent of them brought their own foolish-looking lacrosse sticks. As if the coach is going to need to substitute a 48-year-old postal worker to fill in goal. Or one of the metal balls is going to fly into the grandstands and a stick is the only form of prevention of head injuries to the crowd. In baseball, it is unacceptable for fans no longer eligible for Little League to bring mitts to the game. It helps us distinguish the tools from the real fans. In lacrosse, it’s welcomed.

Oh, but it’s not lacrosse, man. If you’re in the know, you know it’s called lax. No, not the L.A. airport. Apparently adding an X to it makes it seem more extreme and less French. Substituting an X still doesn’t changing it from being lame.

But the game itself? Terribly boring. There’s all kinds of rules that are nonsensical. Penalty box without a box? Say what. Improper stick violations? Are they putting razor blades on the ends to slice opponents? This is ridiculous. The stats are completely ludicrous. You’d swear these fools would go Alexander Hamilton all over someone’s ass for more groundballs. They get a stat for picking up a ball. Why don’t we give stats for number of successful steps while we’re at it?

But the women’s game is worse. There’s no contact. The stats and the game itself is completely changed. Basically it’s the Arena Football version of real lacrosse: more scoring, uninterpretable rules, a giant net in the back and funny uniforms. Instead a jump ball or a faceoff, it has something called a draw control. I don’t know what that means but it involves putting the ball between two people and flipping it up in the air. Then it’s like watching raccoons fight over the last piece of three-day-old KFC chicken. I don’t know what that means either but, at least, it sounds cool.

Laxers are the most vile of creatures. If you don’t play the game, know the game and dream the game, you’re nothing, which is reminiscent to Maryland’s state motto, if I remember correctly. You don’t know that Johns Hopkins is unstoppable? You predicted UVA to beat Syracuse? “OMFG WHAT A N00b.” Listen, lacrosse isn’t a real sport. It’s a glorified attempt at making field hockey cool. Luckily, N.E.P.A. is too badass to fall for those tricks. We’ll stick to things that matter. I’d rather play hopscotch.

What can I do? I’m on my grind. I’m going to have so much money, my kids are going to play lacrosse. Lacrosse, blogosphere. Lacrosse.

Good stuff:

This stupid thing that only I find funny.

N.P.R. wants to know whom you are voting for and what you are listening to. Unfortunately, everyone who has ever listened to N.P.R. has voted for Michael Dukakis.

BARACK OBAMA IS YOUR NEW BICYCLE. All your base are belong to us!

Deadspin goes on this nice little rant about E.S.P.N.:

Sports fans like this? Really?

No, no they don’t. When you consider that “Greatest Highlight” has been on every “SportsCenter” for a month, it would be a rather resounding failure for it not to show up somewhere. In our view, this is the same reason “Who’s Now?” was the top searched term of 2007. We’ve discussed this before, but it warrants repeating:

ESPN is a corporation. As a corporation, their goal is to grow and make money. There is no crime in this; this is not an art project. But as most sports fans can tell you, even those of us who grow exhausted of the “Greatest Highlight” and “Who’s Now” antics watch ESPN all the time. There is no viable competitor; if you’re a sports fan who doesn’t watch ESPN, you’re really not much of a sports fan.

ESPN knows this. They know they have you; you aren’t going anywhere. Because of this, they do not need to cater to you. To grow, they must bring in new viewers, people who are more casual sports fans, people who are more drawn in by the shiny objects of “controversy” and Dick Vitale. They’re the ones who might think, hey … I AM curious about how the world of sports intersects with the world of Hollywood! They are the new viewers; they are the people who discovered Nirvana way too late and ruined everything. (Note: We are one of these people, at least when it comes to Nirvana.) They are exactly the type of people who keep Chris Berman in our faces every night. And they’re exactly the type of people who love the “Greatest Highlight;” people who, really, don’t actually like sports that much.

So that’s why, in our humble opinion, “Greatest Highlight” is the most searched term on ESPN.com. That, or the world is fucking collapsing all around us. Could be that.

Home Run Derby reports that the Rays are giving away cowbells this season. More cowbell!

Sean Salisbury = Canned.

And lastly….

Stuff white people like (best site currently on the web, other than my craplog.)

P.S. I’m writing a screenplay. I don’t expect anything to come of it. I just want to prove that I can write a better script than those no-talent assclowns who wrote “Rocky Balboa”

Once, The Darjeeling Limited (9.5/10); Rocky Balboa (3.7/10)

Call me impulsive but, after realizing I’ve only seen two of the films up for major awards at the Oscars this year, I decided to sign up for Blockbuster Online, which snail mails you movies to rent.

The first movie I rented was “Once,” which won Best Song. I often heard of Once being called a “modern musical.” I had no idea what that actually meant so I rented it anyway.

“Once” is a tiny little film about an Irish musician who becomes acquainted with a Czech immigrant in Dublin. The two of them consolidate to form a band and record an album. The ending may not be what the audience wants but, nevertheless, it is the right ending. “Once” grazes the border of being a love story but never crosses it; it just takes the free sample but never buys the product (or so to speak).

What’s so remarkable about “Once” is how beautiful it is shot. It was made on roughly $100,000 in 17 days. Despite that, some of the camera work, particularly the crane shot outside of the Girl’s apartment window, are better than any of the blockbusters you’ll find this coming summer.

The screenplay is overly simplistic. The two main characters don’t even have names. They are just known as Man and Girl. But as the Oscar indicated, the music tells most of the story where no dialogue exists.

“Once” is a small project but it embiggened by its great storytelling.

(Check out this Pitchfork interview with Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová, whom I took a liking to, about the unexpected story of “Once” and how Hollywood bastardized the DVD poster).

RtH says: Now, I won’t look down on you if you say you enjoyed a (modern) musical.

I could never really call myself much of a film buff, because I have never seen a Wes Anderson movie. This comes as a surprise to most since many of my favorite movies have been called Wes Anderson knockoffs.

Wes Anderson’s “The Darjeeling Limited” focuses on three brothers who embark on a journey through India via train one year after the passing of their father. The first thing that comes to mind is that all three have severe physiological issues: the older has control issues, the middle is a kleptomaniac and the youngest is undergoing a self-identity crisis. While we don’t know of their relationship with their deceased father, they were abandoned by their mother when they were young.

“The Darjeeling Limited” is a beautifully orchestrated telling of a broken-down family. Its use of colors throughout the movie is something to be desired and interpreted. I’m still not entirely sure that the train and the events that occurred on it were real.

It isn’t a conventional film, and I feel that throws things off. The plot changes frequently throughout the movie, but for the better. In that sense, it reminds me of Asian films, fittingly it is set in India, since there’s never two or three paths the brothers could take.

I strongly recommend watching the “Hotel Chevalier” short (on the D.V.D. options) before “The Darjeeling Limited.” Not because it features a nude Natalie Portman (I like) but because the ending of Darjeeling makes a lot more sense with it.

RtH says: Yeah! Yeah!

Even though I did not Blockbuster it, I’m going to review “Rocky Balboa” because I had the misfortune of watching it twice in ten days on consecutive business trips.

It’s a shame they had to bastardize the Rocky series. Four was enough. Five killed it. Balboa unearthed it from the dead and stabbed it in the throat with a stake.

“Rocky Balboa” is the comeback story of the aging Rocky. E.S.P.N., as it always does, stages a mock simulated fight between the Italian Stallion and Mason “The Line” Dixon, the current heavyweight champion of the world. Adrienne’s dead. Rocky’s kid is a yuppie. Rocky owns a bar. I don’t need to preface the prior five Rockys.

The whole movie just doesn’t do anything. It’s a blatant attempt to recreate the first Rocky film, but it fails when the filmmakers realize they have no more story ideas. Same Philadelphia montage introduction. The fight announcement seems all too familiar to the Carl Weathers’ one in ‘76. Same Philadelphia training sequence. Even the fight between The Line and The Stallion seems to emulate the original outcome.

Even still, that wouldn’t be so bad. The movie dies around the subplot involving the little girl who Rocky encountered in the original. For half of the film, the audience is led to believe that Rocky is going to train Steps to fight. Au contraire. Rocky decides he is going to fight himself. Since Rocky isn’t going to take Steps under his wing, the Steps/Steps’ mom-Rocky relationship becomes mind-boggling. Why is Rocky so interested in helping her? There’s no romantic interest involved. I guess they just needed some annoying tramp to cry over Rocky during the match now that Adrienne is dead.

Granted that the Rocky series is going to inherent piss-poor dialogue, “Rocky Balboa” goes to another level. I’ve seen this movie twice in the past week and a half. The scene between the gangster girl at the bar and Rocky makes me wish my Zune had a higher volume than 20. They couldn’t think of any better lines for the girl to yell over and over again.

“You don’t know me?” Oh “Rocky Balboa,” I wish I hardly knew thee.

RtH says: “Save yourself the trouble and rent the ‘76 version.