Tuesday, February 21, 2006
This image here, should you choose to click upon it to view it in its full-sized glory, explains in part what has been keeping me, your lightly informed sarcastic blogger from imparting words of entirely irrelevant baseball wisdom to you, the dedicated if misguided reader.
Do we all remember last year? When I had a crappy little computer model tiger in a show at the WORK gallery, and I mentioned it, and specifically said that it was a crap show because they couldn't get any work for it, and what they had got was not so great? And Ian, against all odds and laws of reason, went to see it anyways? Even though I don't know him at all? Even though this was way back when, before he even had started Sweaty Men Endeavors, a blog so thorough, intelligent, and well-written that it was profiled in the Detroit Metro Times, mostly because the reporter liked the homoerotic connotations of his title.
So now you have 3 reasons to be reading Ian: 1) his blog, it be good; 2) he actually took time, real time, out of his real life, to see what is the single most depressingly pathetic art show I have ever had the shame to be entered into without my knowledge; 3) Sweaty Men Endeavors could be the name of a gay porn video. But it would star Joey Harrington, so it would all be OK.
But the point here is not to plug a blog I like, although I should definitely do that more often because I have Irrational Fears that you people are lazy and lack knowledge of the extensive blogosphere of Detroit sports and might therefore miss out on such glories. No. The point! The point is that I am in an art show opening this week and this one is actually good.
It's Evolution semester at U of M, and, not to be outdone, the art school had to get its grubby little turpentine-stained mitts into the pie. Endless Forms is an evolution-themed show, and I've got a piece in it, and it took me for-frikking-ever, and it's being run by some very cool and insanely dedicated grad students who are spending David Wells-loads of time organizing and setting it up, and I helped set it up on Sunday and oh my goodness some of the stuff in there is good.
There's a lot of work (unlike the previously mentioned show) and some of it is amazing (unlike the previously mentioned show), and I actually heartily recommend going to this one (unlike... well, you know). Nay, if you are in the area, I demand that you go, because it's such a neat show that I would be showing up anyways even if I didn't have a piece in it.
It opens Februrary 24 (that's this Friday), but because that's the start of spring break (spring-ish break) for Michigan the actual opening reception is not until March 10 (which is also a Friday). If you are in Ann Arbor or the general Ann Arborish area, it is my humble opinion that if you do not show up for the opening, or if you do not get out to see the show at some point between Feb. 24 and March 24 (when it closes), then you are a filthy Yankee fan and we will have to coat you with pine tar and stick you to a bench so you can't move while Barry Bonds spends 10 hours explaining the psychological games he plays with himself to you.
Details are in the image at the top there, but those are the dates, and it's at the WORK gallery, which is right on State Street, and is the one that has the word "WORK" on the windows.
As for baseball! I've been so busy with that, and trying to get into prison (don't ask, it's for class), and deranged photography projects, and biopsychology research, and painting (although I did do a baseball-related painting, I'll have to get photos of that online at some point), that I haven't had time to upload the rest of Zito's gloriously mediocre photography. Eventually. In the meantime, have some fun things that we have learned from the Boston Globe's photographic coverage of Spring Training.
Coco Crisp: he understands that babies are the other, other white meat.
Theo looks good handlin' wood.
Jason Varitek is such a good team leader that he can even coax the Albino Cave Elf (scroll down to Flaherty, John) out of his dark, granite abode.
Jon Lester in the sky-y-y-y with diamonds, doo doo doo doo. Also, I am taking Photoshop away from whoever wields it at the Globe staff headquarters. You, sir or madam, are not allowed to use the Burn/Dodge tool anymore. I can see what you're doing. Stop it.
Keith Foulke: awkward. Sorry Beth.
Tim Wakefield: graceful like a Canadian ice dancer. Oh wait.
Jon(athan) Papelbon: how can you not love this kid? Seriously. You people should see the Jonathan Papelbon: Argyle Rockstar Pitcher desktop image I have of him.
Kevin Youkilis: No. Just. No. I refuse to even look at him anymore. Are you trying to punish us for signing Mark Loretta, Youks? Please, I beg of you. There are better ways.
Johnny Pesky: he loves the Jews!
Matt Clement had better watch out. Look at the face of that girl in the front row with the red bat. Matty, she's thinking totally impure thoughts! Guard your loins!
Jason Varitek welcomes you, female and thus-inclined male Red Sox fans, to spring training. Indeed he does.
OK, kids. I'm going to try to not let the ol' academia drag me down this much again. Expect more regular posting, even if it's just a bunch of short posts to say things like, "TODAY I SUDDENLY REMEMBERED MARK LORETTA HAS A FETISH FOR WATCHES HA HA WOO IT'S 5 AM!" So there's that to look forward to. That, and David Wells' simmering anger at having to show up for Spring Training still a member of the Red Sox. I bet that makes for some real nice and relaxed conversations.
2:18 AM
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