Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Spray painted Johnny Damons showing up in New York! This is amazing. More of this sort of thing. And it gives me all sorts of ideas... *eyes the numerous cans of spray paint sitting innocently in the corner*
Apparently Gary Sheffield of the MFYankees was being blackmailed by a pseudo-minister who claimed to have tapes of his wife having sex with another woman and R. Kelly. I say 'apparently' because it's being reported by the New York Post, which isn't exactly the most reliable of newspapers.
When I first read the story, I was shocked to find myself 100% sympathetic to the Sheffields. A Yankee! A Yankee who hasn't even forced a kind of extremely grudging respect, as Jeter has done. A Yankee who essentially called our precious 2004 Red Sox a bunch of punks right before we shoved those words down his choking throat. And I can't even muster up a laugh at his misfortune?
It took me a bit (the bus ride from north to central campus) to figure out why this was so. See, if it was Gary Sheffield himself being implicated in a sex scandal, I would be crowing with glee. The hilarity! Even if it wasn't true, it would still be a cause for rejoicing and laughter. But this thing is dragging his family into the mess, and that's just not cool. It would be one thing to attack just the ballplayer... obviously, in this case, it would still be very much an illegal activity, but Boston fans could point and laugh about it. Attacking the ballplayer through his family is both illegal and incredibly unfunny. After all, it's not as though his wife was the one to take dodgy steroids or to make inflammatory remarks about the Sox.
The only good bit is the response from the R. Kelly camp. "Since we haven't seen the tape, we can neither confirm nor deny that it is in fact Mr. Kelly. We can, however, confirm that no one is suggesting the tape depicts anything but the activities of consenting adults."
Awesome. R. Kelly may or may not have had videotaped orgies, but we assure America that there was no kiddy fiddling involved!* Thank you, music industry, for salvaging what was otherwise a pretty upsetting story.
The rest of this I wrote last night, but Blogger had a fit, as is its wont. So here you are.
Pedro Martinez met with George Steinbrenner today. I don't really want to think about it.
I understand that, if offered more money and years elsewhere, Pedro can and probably should move on. It would just be awful to see him come get his championship ring in Yankee garb, and it would be awful to see him finish up his storied career there.
And this on top of the fact that the 'Tek prospects look grim...
Let's put it this way. I have four images currently all made up on my computer, set to be posted. Farewell images, if you will. I'm willing to bet that I have to use at least one of them, but I'm hoping to avoid it. Never had I hoped so fervently that something I made will never have to see the light of day.
Anyways.
I walked into the bathroom in the middle of the day today (around 4:30, I'd guess) and was greeted by the loud, slightly tinny strains of a country/western song. It was, to say the least, disconcerting. Apparently one of my hallmates has a shower radio, which she tunes to country music. Why anyone in the dorms would have a shower radio is quite inexplicable, and why anyone in the world would voluntarily listen to country music is perhaps more so.
In lieu of an actual blog, have a couple of art stuffs.
We're removing the chondrocraniums of our sharks in lab. It's an agonizing process that involves scraping the thing off layer by layer with a scalpel. I guess I had assumed that the cartilage would be really almost as hard as bone and we could just crack it open, but this stuff has the general consistency of frozen butter. We're trying to reveal the brain, cranial and optic nerves, and semi-circular canals of the shark. I think that Taneesha (lab partner) and I did tolerably well, except that we seem to have obliterated the semi-circular canals. This is apparently par for the course for labs. You're trying to expose something that's thin, tubular, and translucently whitish that's buried in a mass of stuff that's translucently whitish.
Yeah. So I drew the shark head cavity. That's the brain you see in the middle, with the eyes on either side of it. Yup. It reminded me yet again why I hate drawing in pencil. Bloody smudging.
The other art stuff (and I'm using the term 'art' very loosely here) serves as proof that our evening art lectures are absolutely, perfectly useless. We had an hour and a half of lecture, and these were what my notes looked like at the end of it. I'm fairly certain I fell asleep sometime in the middle of class, which explains why there aren't more doodles. Obviously I colored it on the computer when I got home and scanned it in, not while I was still in class.
The stuff at the bottom with the chair and the rhinocerous and the words saying 'Le Corbusier hearts Rhino' were the result of our professor regaling us with a long and meandering soliloquy on the great love that (architect and industrial designer) Le Corbusier would have had for digital programs such as Rhino. I don't know, it was funny at the time.
The bit right under that (Hooray! Gratuitous BPL sighting!) was because one of the slides the professor used today was of his 'favorite public building'. Yup, it was the Boston Public Library. Chalk one up for the ol' Beantown. Er. Yeah. As I said, it's not the most educational of classes.
Rumors flying everywhere, including one that says Doug Mirabelli, backup catcher for the Red Sox, is buying a house in Detroit. What the dickens, people? Is this fact? Why would Mirabelli go to the Tigers just to be a backup again (because I HIGHLY doubt that the Tigers are trading away Pudge)? Someone explain it to me, please.
Gah, brain too tired for such strenuous thoughts. Goodnight, kids.
*This is going to bring me a ton of hits from really disturbing searches, isn't it? Sigh.
1:11 AM
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