Filed under: Let's Go Mets! — Keith Olbermann Is Evil @ 18:38:09
With baseball season starting in a little more than 24 hours (Let’s Go Mets!) I thought to pass on this wonderful piece from Jeff at Canon Fodder: Baseball Preview, Part IV. This fellow hits the mark regarding females and baseball. Although I’d like to add that what he says does not apply to the female baseball fan, of which there are many. Like me. But what he says rings true. Many of the women I know barely tolerate their boyfriend’s/husband’s love of sports. Gee whiz. The poor SOB watches “American Idol” and “Grey’s Anatomy” with you. Can’t you at least pretend to understand the difference between a curveball and a fastball? OK, so you don’t understand the infield fly rule? This is why God invented Google. And I am totally with Canon Fodder in not liking pink “team” baseball caps. Pink is a swell color, but a wearing a team’s cap is about supporting the team and wearing their colors, not accessorizing your outfit. It’s like buying a painting: You buy it because it is art, not because it matches the sofa in the livingroom.
And “Ugh — Sports” is not just a female thing. Open Letter to a Pedantic Killjoy was written to the boyfriend of female pal who tried to enjoy a football game with a bunch of her friends. I once dated someone much like Pedantic Killjoy, so I know how they felt. There is such a thing as being polite and trying to fit in. Sports fans can be pretty — well, fanatical. But just because we like sports doesn’t mean we cede 50 I.Q. points to you “intellectuals.” If you’re not interested in the game. just go away for about three hours and we’ll catch up with you later.
green beer? ecccch! maybe some stout, the darker the better. a tacky plastic shamrock pin and a green sweater usually gets the job done for this great-grand-daughter of an Irishman without immigration records. more important, a recent relative was born on St. Patrick’s day, and we always have cake and ice cream.
I’ll spend some time looking at the Irish Brigade links. Thanks. Grampa Hank fought on the Union Side. one of my cousins brought his sword to show and tell in grade school. imagine that happening these days!
The West Virginia University mountaineer mascot was allowed to carry his rifle into Madison Square Garden during the Big East Championship. The New England Patriots’ minutemen had some difficulty getting their muskets into Gillette Stadium after 9/11. What? You thought they might shoot at Peyton?
So what do Irish Americans think about St. Patrick’s Day?
March is Irish American Heritage Month as well as Greek American Heritage Month. Don’t feel bad that you have to share a month. May is Jewish American Heritage Month and Asian Pacific American Heritage Month. And October is shared by German Americans, Italian Americans, and Polish Americans. Ethnic and Religious Dates.
A friend of Cuban descent once told me of his firm’s Hispanic Heritage Month celebration. They served tacos in the lunchroom, offices were decorated with sombreros and piñatas. Which was swell, except that all those refer to Mexican culture. For most Americans Cuba is where Castro lives, the place famous for cigars, and that’s about it. When I was a kid, for St. Patrick’s Day we’d cut four-leafed clovers out of green construction paper and drew pictures of leprechauns. Much later — and not a part of any St. Patrick’s Day ritual — I learned about the potato famine, Irish immigration to America, the Irish Brigade, etc. And I learned about the Black and Tans by listening to Keith on The Big Show.
I don’t know if things like German American Day or Asian Pacific American Heritage Month really accomplish much. If anything happens during Asian Pacific Heritage Month around here, it’s usually that fortune cookies and rice go on sale at grocery stores. It’s not like they hurt, but such ethnic “celebrations” are superficial.
But now that I think of it, when I lived in Seattle the local branch library offered a series of Paul Robeson films during Black History Month. A grad student (I think he was in the UW history department) managed the program, discussing Robeson’s life and work. That was pretty cool.
A non-ethnic celebration: April is National Poetry Month. You can sign up for a Poem a Day from the Academy of American Poets. (You have to register on the poets.org site for this service.)
Well, if Robert Burns had lived in Georgia he probably would have written about kudzu and not roses. (I’ve seen mountains of kudzu in Atlanta, but it has spread quite far out of the southeastern states.)
Another addition to our collection of Objectification Songs. An unbelievable melding of musical genres, this is genius:
[Intro]
Oh, my, god. Becky, look at her butt.
It is so big. *scoff* She looks like,
one of those rap guys’ girlfriends.
But, y’know, who understands those rap guys? *scoff*
They only talk to her, because,
she looks like a total prostitute, ‘kay?
I mean, her butt, is just so big. *scoff*
I can’t believe it’s just so round, it’s like,
out there, I mean – gross. Look!
She’s just so … black!
[Sir Mix-a-Lot]
I like big butts and I can not lie
You other brothers can’t deny
That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist
And a round thing in your face
You get sprung, wanna pull out your tough
‘Cause you notice that butt was stuffed
Deep in the jeans she’s wearing
I’m hooked and I can’t stop staring
Oh baby, I wanna get wit’cha
And take your picture
My homeboys tried to warn me
But with that butt you got makes me feel so horny
Ooh, Rump-o’-smooth-skin
You say you wanna get in my Benz?
Well, use me, use me
‘Cause you ain’t that average groupy
I’ve seen them dancin’
The hell with romancin’
She’s sweat, wet,
Got it goin’ like a turbo ‘Vette
I’m tired of magazines
Sayin’ flat butts are the thing
Take the average black man and ask him that
She gotta pack much back
So, fellas! (Yeah!) Fellas! (Yeah!)
Has your girlfriend got the butt? (Hell yeah!)
Tell ‘em to shake it! (Shake it!) Shake it! (Shake it!)
Shake that healthy butt!
Baby got back!
(LA face with Oakland booty)
Baby got back!
[Sir Mix-a-Lot]
I like ‘em round, and big
And when I’m throwin’ a gig
I just can’t help myself, I’m actin’ like an animal
Now here’s my scandal
I wanna get you home
And ugh, double-up, ugh, ugh
I ain’t talkin’ bout Playboy
‘Cause silicone parts are made for toys
I want ‘em real thick and juicy
So find that juicy double
Mix-a-Lot’s in trouble
Beggin’ for a piece of that bubble
So I’m lookin’ at rock videos
Knock-kneeded bimbos walkin’ like hoes
You can have them bimbos
I’ll keep my women like Flo Jo
A word to the thick soul sistas, I wanna get with ya
I won’t cuss or hit ya
But I gotta be straight when I say I wanna *fuck*
Til the break of dawn
Baby got it goin’ on
A lot of simps won’t like this song
‘Cause them punks like to hit it and quit it
And I’d rather stay and play
‘Cause I’m long, and I’m strong
And I’m down to get the friction on
So, ladies! {Yeah!} Ladies! {Yeah}
If you wanna role in my Mercedes {Yeah!}
Then turn around! Stick it out!
Even white boys got to shout
Baby got back!
Baby got back!
Yeah, baby … when it comes to females, Cosmo ain’t got nothin’
to do with my selection. 36-24-36? Ha ha, only if she’s 5′3″.
[Sir Mix-a-Lot]
So your girlfriend rolls a Honda, playin’ workout tapes by Fonda
But Fonda ain’t got a motor in the back of her Honda
My anaconda don’t want none
Unless you’ve got buns, hun
You can do side bends or sit-ups,
But please don’t lose that butt
Some brothers wanna play that “hard” role
And tell you that the butt ain’t gold
So they toss it and leave it
And I pull up quick to retrieve it
So Cosmo says you’re fat
Well I ain’t down with that!
‘Cause your waist is small and your curves are kickin’
And I’m thinkin’ bout stickin’
To the beanpole dames in the magazines:
You ain’t it, Miss Thing!
Give me a sista, I can’t resist her
Red beans and rice didn’t miss her
Some knucklehead tried to dis
‘Cause his girls are on my list
He had game but he chose to hit ‘em
And I pull up quick to get wit ‘em
So ladies, if the butt is round,
And you want a triple X throw down,
Dial 1-900-MIXALOT
And kick them nasty thoughts
Baby got back!
I once saw a double-feature of “Apocalypse Now” and “Platoon” at a repertory house (I don’t think those exist anymore — everyone watches old movies on cable or dvd). Talk about depressing ….
As regards the Bush presidency, I often feel like Vizzini, the Wallace Shawn character in The Princess Bride.
It’s not like previous administrations have been perfect, but this one seems particularly horrible. Bush 43’s presidency is like a combination of the worst of the Nixon and Johnson presidencies, with a little bit of bad Reagan thrown in: misuse of power, dirty tricks, paranoia, war. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s an Enemies List out there somewhere.
As a sports franchise, you’d have to say that the Bush administration is sort of like the New York Knicks, but even the Knicks have shown glimmers of hope this past season. President Bush may well be the Isiah Thomas of presidents.
I’m not sure I quite understand why ’sphericity’ is prized in this equation. I think spherical breasts are decidedly unattractive, like tennis balls glued to one’s chest. Or basketballs, as some adult film actresses seem to prefer.
So, go Petra! You, um, rock!
If you read the Boynton blog post carefully you’ll see where she reports the scoring system for The Breast Factor. Pertness, Sphericity, Fullness/firmness, Proportion, and Nipple Factor are all graded on a scale of 1-4, with the higher number being better. The Artificial/Natural Factor is graded with Artificial = 1, Natural = 2. She also quotes the Nuts Magazine scoring analysis:
Perfection! = 22
Nearly there be proud to make page 3 = Over 15
You are average and look good so be proud = Over 10
Keep your clothes on! = Under 7
Good clothes can look great too = Under 5
(Page 3 is a British tabloid “dedicated to the topless models.”)
Plugging the best grades into the formula and taking into account the statement “Science proves real boobs are better than fake” we get:
[(PT+S) x (FF + PP)/A] + N
[(4 + 4) x (4 + 4)/2] + 4
[8 x 4] + 4
32 + 4
36
(And artificial breasts would yield a score of 68.)
Where they get 22 as the perfect score is a mystery to me. Must be that fuzzy math.
Fuzzy like peaches:
I really love your peaches
Want to shake your tree …
I’m not sure how relevant rrgirl’s comments are to what I said, because what I said didn’t have to do with the work environment or men and women working together, but rather with how men evaluate women as potential dates vs. how women evaluate men as potential dates. I don’t really have any issues with the men I’ve worked with–never have–I see them as people and they treat me like a person. In fact, sometimes, because I have worked in a career field that tends to be female-dominated, I’ve felt a little sorry for them being in the minority.
Anyway, it certainly is true that sometimes people we admire say things that we don’t admire so much. Possibly, what it means is that even people we admire have some growing up to do in some areas. It’s definitely not enough to make me begin hating them or anything. I like to think that one of the marks of maturity is to realize that people can have an opinion or two, or a blind spot, that we find anything from dismaying to outright repugnant, yet we don’t turn around and begin hating them because of this opinion or blind spot. We simply hope that time and life–if not we ourselves, as we may not have the opportunity–will help them see the light.
I mean, I have an otherwise very lovable, intelligent, and logical relative who absolutely ADORES Bill O’Reilly, and watches him because she thinks he tells it like it is. I make a point of it not to get too deeply into discussion of Mr. O’Reilly with this relative, because otherwise I love her to death, and I really don’t want to fight with her over this.
Now. About the revirginization thing. Were you watching Countdown back when Keith, like everyone else, was covering (or being forced by his producers to cover) the Runaway Bride, Jennifer Wilbanks? Keith actually became fascinated by small details of the story that otherwise seemed to escape unnoticed, such as that the happy couple’s online gift registry contained a large number of items related to the serving of cheese. And that the would-be groom had enjoyed a reputation as a wild guy who “got around” before meeting her–but since then he’d “gotten religion,” become a Christian, and declared himself a “born-again virgin.”
This detail caused no end of merriment on Keith’s part. “Born-again virgin?” he guffawed. “Since when did they change the rules on THAT?” He even had someone on his show (now I can’t remember who) to discuss the topic of “born-again virginity,” of whom he asked, not only “When did they change the rules on that?” but “So, how does one become a born-again virgin? Does it hurt?” etc. The interviewee humored him by saying that Keith appeared to be quite interested in the procedure and that he would see what he could do.
Of course, I doubt the whole “cosmetic surgery” concept comes into play in the case of men (unless we’re talking sex-change operations). The Runaway Bride’s groom was no doubt trying to say that he had, well, chosen to think of himself as a virgin again, and implied that if you merely THINK of yourself as a virgin again, you ARE a virgin.
To which Keith, to this day, is probably saying, with puzzlement, “Since when did they change the rules on THAT?”
Gosh, how did I miss KO’s Runaway Bride/Born-Again Virgin report? Did anyone by chance mention the book How to Regain Your Virginity? The former Reverend Ted Haggard went to a rehabilitation facility where he was counseled on his homosexual tendencies; when he finished the program it was reported that he was a “certified heterosexual.” Perhaps that same place has a Revirginization Certification program.
Before she ran out on Mr. Upon-Further-Review Wilbanks’ friends and family had given her three bridal showers. Talk about overkill. For crying out loud: How many toasters and Waring blenders does one couple need? Then again, perhaps they were hoarding cheese slicers ….
The fascination with virgins is somewhat puzzling. I mean, no matter what endeavor you consider isn’t it always better to be involved with people who know what they are doing? Yeah, yeah …. I guess there’s that feeling of self-importance if one can lead a less experienced partner up that stairway to heaven. But, seriously: What can one really expect out of a rookie?
You raise an interesting point: “how men evaluate women as potential dates vs. how women evaluate men as potential dates.” This got me to thinking: Is there a difference in the way I evaluate men-in-general versus men-I-consider-potential dates? I don’t think so. In fact, I don’t think I evaluate men any different than I evaluate women. I like people who are smart, funny, have a good sense of humor. Ethical, thoughtful people. Open-minded people. Articulate? Definitely a plus. I don’t like people who are crybabies or are high maintenance. As far as when a man goes from the “Hey He’s A Nice Guy” phase to the “Wow! I Want To Go Out With Him” phase, for me it doesn’t come as a bolt out of the blue. It kind of creeps up.
The formula for the Perfect Breast has been revealed:
The Breast Factor = [(PT+S) x (FF + PP)/A] + N
(Not sure if “The Breast Factor” is related to The O’Reilly Factor. Perhaps Keith’s crack staff at Countdown can look into this.)
Where:
PT = Pertness
S = Sphericity
FF = Fullness-Firmness
PP = Proportion
A = Natural/Artificial Factor
N = Nipple factor
The above formula comes from the blog of Dr. Petra Boynton, via Mind Hacks. She takes the men’s magazine that commissioned this study to task, and in particular the university psychologist who lent his name and credentials to this “scientific” endeavor.
Barb: Their comments on Heather Mills were very catty. Not that she doesn’t deserve it, but didn’t Keith once say something about “don’t punch down.” She’s such an easy target, like Paris and Britney. I suppose some good can come from her apperance on “Dancing with the stars” but that’s all about seeking attention and not raising awareness on disabilities. As far as most hated Mrs. Beatle I think Yoko is still way up there. About rude gawkers, people these days lack common sense.
Scoop: Barb, I don’t think Dan and Keith think of digs at Heather Mills as “punching down,” but rather as “punching up”–as in, punching up at someone who managed to get one of the world’s wealthiest men to marry her, presumably for love, then ended up splitting with him, saying horrendous things about him that appeared difficult to believe, and who is now trying to take him to the cleaners. The fact that she was disliked personally by a lot of people before she even married him doesn’t help.
In truth, I think it maybe says something for our civilization when we feel free to poke fun at and ridicule people with disabilities on the basis of what we dislike about them AS PEOPLE rather than feeling we have to pull the punch because they Have a Handicap. Heather Mills is not living her life like a disabled person, so I really don’t see much of a reason to go gently on her. She also seems to actively discourage others from giving her that kind of treatment, so it’s hard to even feel guilty when when one ridicules her for any reason, even to make jokes involving her artificial leg.
Now, if she were actively suffering any kind of health crisis, I wouldn’t ridicule her for that. That would be a different story. But it doesn’t make sense to me that any person with any sort of disability should be off limits for the poking of fun. And I say that as a believer in the “just because you can say it doesn’t mean you should” school. I just think there are things one can say that are more worth complaining about.
rrgirl : Scoop, thanks for helping me understand my feelings before I comment here.
I care passionately about providing an accessible environment for every stage of a person’s life, but that doesn’t relieve anyone from individual responsibility, so long as they’re competent.
I love dance. human movement within a formal spacial concept, with or without musical expression is just about the highest form of art, to my way of thinking. given the chance to watch a cheezy popular dance contest, and a world series baseball game, even the seventh game, I’d still take dance. well, maybe the tribe against the yankees, in Cleveland…
DP and KO have reasonably assumed ms. mills is competent, and they find her behavior less than respectable. she has squandered an opportunity to spend her life as the spouse of one of the most universally beloved and celebrated men of the 20th century, and hasn’t been nice at all about ending that relationship. OK, maybe there are things we’ll never know about that relationship but still, she could raise their child quietly in security – hell, luxury, without trashing his good name.
instead, she’s acted badly. contemptibly. and if DP and KO want to fling a little poo in her general direction, well, its not like she hasn’t provided a target.
I’m going to have to defer to my distinguished colleagues on this one.
I generally cut people a lot of slack, which is why I posted as I did. But I don’t follow celebrity news — heck, I learn a lot about it from DP and KO — so you all have got me on the McCartney-Mills affair. I do recall hearing or reading (years ago, before they were married) that his children weren’t crazy about Mills when their father began going out with her. He should have listened to them.
Scoop makes the interesting point that people don’t feel they have to use kid gloves when commenting on Mills just because she is disabled. This is a positive thing. No one’s pulling the Disabled Card, as some pull the Race Card whenever DP criticizes a black athlete or fails to criticize a white one.
Not to sound unromantic, but I sure hope KO learns from Sir Paul’s error and gets a prenuptial agreement signed before walking down the aisle. Anyone — male or female — with assets should strive to protect them before entering into marriage. A messy divorce could wreak havoc not only with KO’s net worth, but also throw the memorabilia industry into a frenzy should he have to sell his collection.
rrgirl, I would always take a baseball game over dance. I don’t care if it’s Baryshnikov: Take me out to Shea ….
With baseball season starting in a little more than 24 hours (Let’s Go Mets!) I thought to pass on this wonderful piece from Jeff at Canon Fodder: Baseball Preview, Part IV. This fellow hits the mark regarding females and baseball. Although I’d like to add that what he says does not apply to the female baseball fan, of which there are many. Like me. But what he says rings true. Many of the women I know barely tolerate their boyfriend’s/husband’s love of sports. Gee whiz. The poor SOB watches “American Idol” and “Grey’s Anatomy” with you. Can’t you at least pretend to understand the difference between a curveball and a fastball? OK, so you don’t understand the infield fly rule? This is why God invented Google. And I am totally with Canon Fodder in not liking pink “team” baseball caps. Pink is a swell color, but a wearing a team’s cap is about supporting the team and wearing their colors, not accessorizing your outfit. It’s like buying a painting: You buy it because it is art, not because it matches the sofa in the livingroom.
