Thursday, July 20, 2006

Trash Talk

Trash Talk And the Federalization of Everything

Zizou head-butted the wop talking trash to him. Now everyone tells Zizou that talking trash is part of the game: if you can't take it, get off the field.
Excuse me: are there no limits? no thresholds? Does the ref has no business knowing the specific insult? Are ethnic differences not to be considered?
Is lack of information ever wiser than presence of information?

Once upon a time you knew if you were sick. Your family knew if you were dead: even before the bacteria knew, or the vultures. With federalism, some expert, some priest, some anointed one, some bureaucrat with a certificate from the state alone can say to the satisfaction of the state whether you're sick, whether you're dead ... It's not enough to tell your teacher, your boss, that you were sick, that you're grandma died, you need a note from your doctor, from the undertaker.

Once upon a time no body knew better what junior needed, wanted, liked or didn't like better than mom. Then, past toddlerhood, nobody knew better than junior himself. Now junior needs a shrink to tell him what he wants, and the shrink needs a social worker in grace with the legislature to tell the shrink whether he's a quack.

The guy talks trash to Zizou. France against Italy. Some paper immediately says that the wop called Zizou a "terrorist." Now that's a hot topic. It used to be you had to be a Philistine ... or a Jew ... or a Commie ... or an anarchist to deserve no due process. But of course the paper had no idea what was said. Right now the preponderance of reported opinion holds that it doesn't matter what was said: athletes, playing before a paying crowd, with TV sponsors to consider, have no rights to any sore spots. It doesn't matter what the guy says, the athlete has to ignore it.

Can that view possibly stand up to experience?

The guy calls you a motherfucker, so what: these days that's just aural wall paper: like saying there are clouds in the sky. What if he says, "Your mother sucks the boils up the Saddam's ass"? What if he says, "I left a firecracker up your baby's cherry"?
Those insults don't bother you? Fine. Then you won't head butt. But since when can a committee decide what will and won't pull your trigger?

No, no, no. What was said can always count.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

'Roid Rage

I'm just reading a second- or third-hand claim that Barry Bonds would go into steroid rages. If what seems true is true, then why should we care what happens to Barry Bonds? In the days of the caesars, his property could have been confiscated. In the days of any tyranny he could be boiled in oil, hung in a dungeon. In these days of the tyranny of the public, anything could happen.

But, even hanging from chains on the wall of a dungeon, rats crawling up his rag of a breech cloth, Barry should be able to sue. He should be able to sue Mark Maguire for going ahead of him. He should sue the chemists who synthesized the fucking things. He should be able to sue the Giants for encouraging him: and sue the public for a host of silly choices.

I threw the above up real fast (doesn't it show?): but a minute later read a very good suggestion that I believe applies to the whole society as well as to sports as mercinary entertainment: decriminalize all the drugs. Let the athletes take anything (just as we could let the junkies OD if they wanted, leave them to die in the gutter). Cheating can't be controlled, don't try. (I'll link to that article a bit later.)

And another PS: Since we can't ever be sure of how much cheating took place, don't take anything too seriously: not the World Series, not the Supreme Court, not the College of Cardinals.