Happy Birthday to John Stockton
Happy Birthday to John Stockton
First look at the Ender’s Game theatrical poster. I couldn’t be more excited for this.
When you’re bored on Monday afternoon sometimes you re-color pictures. It’s for fun.
THE RAGNAR RELAY
I have a problem with the Ragnar, and my problem is this: I don’t understand why it exists.
This morning I woke up to a throng of sweaty, sunburned, sleep-deprived individuals running down my street while poorly decorated SUVs and minivans puttered along behind them honking their horns and blasting 80s hair-metal. I sat out on the porch a while and watched them pass, feeling like maybe if I was a better person I would give them a drink from my hose, and wondering to myself why anyone would ever want to do such a thing as run the Ragnar Relay. Running isn’t fun. Being surrounded by large groups of strangers isn’t fun. Being sunburned and tired isn’t fun. So, why would someone want to run in a group of sweaty, often overweight, strangers, while the sun constantly cooked their sleepless skin? I don’t know why. And I know there are those that will say, “It’s a challenge,” and “Running with friends is actually a good time.” But I disagree.
If running with friends is such a good time, and running the Ragnar is such a great challenge, why do you need a special day to do it? Why don’t you and your friends go out next Wednesday and run 200 miles for the hell of it? The answer is, because it isn’t fun and you’re lying to yourself. Running a relay race isn’t like playing a pick-up game of basketball, is it? You can’t just get your buds together and say, “c’mon, let’s have a go then.” Because if you do that they’ll all look at you like you’re out of your mind, because no one runs relay races for kicks and giggles. And you know what the worst part is? If you’re friends were to take you up on running that no-reason, Wednesday night relay, they’d probably enjoy it much more than they’d enjoy running the Ragnar, because they wouldn’t be coughing up Trailblazer exhaust while they ran in the sweaty mist of the chubby 60 year old geriatric in front of them.
The only logical reason anyone would ever want to run the Ragnar is winning a prize, but guess what…YOU DON’T WIN ANYTHING. It’s like when you used to play recreation league soccer in elementary school and you’d get an ice-pop and a ribbon just for showing up to the game. It didn’t matter that your team got beat by 7 goals, or that your coach was some kid’s dad who only got pulled off the sideline so the team didn’t forfeit. Everybody won, so everybody went away happy and proud of themselves. That’s what the Ragnar is. It’s the rec. soccer league of the running world. When you finish you get a t-shirt that you can wear to show people that at one point in your life you ran a little bit; you get a sticker to put in the bottom-right corner on the back window of your Escalade so that everyone at your sedentary desk job knows that in a pinch you can run/jog/walk 16 miles over the course of 24 hours; and you get a trophy that also doubles as a bottle opener, because why not?
Also, the Ragnar has a stupid name. What does a Viking warlord whose claim to fame was continuously raiding France for twenty straight years in the first century have to do with running a relay race? The answer is nothing. It has nothing to do with running a really race.
I don’t think the Ragnar has any business existing. It’s like a sugar-free cotton candy, or the Kardashian sisters. But don’t let my opinion keep you from ruining a perfectly good weekend next summer. If you want to run the Ragnar, more power to you. Just don’t expect to see me anywhere near it.
I have a problem with Neil Munro, and my problem is this: you don’t interrupt THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES while he’s making a speech. I don’t care how important you think what you’re about to say is, or how valid you think your question is, or how cool you think you look wearing Elton John’s hairpiece. THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES is talking. Whatever you have to say can wait. And yes, I know you think that you, “…timed the question believing the president was closing his remarks…” but you didn’t. If you had, you wouldn’t have interrupted him, because he would have been done with his remarks.
And even if we give Neil the benefit of the doubt and believe him when he says he simply “mistimed” his question, we still find him in the wrong. A normal person, after realizing his mistake, would have apologized and taken his question back, saving it for a later time when the floor was opened up to him. What did Neil do? He continued to ask his question, even after THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES told him that it wasn’t the time to do so. That’s not how you act when you simply, “mistimed” your question. That’s how you act when you’re an idiot with no social graces. And that is why I have a problem with Neil Munro.
Sidenote: While I don’t condone interrupting a speaking President at any time. If you’re going to do it, you should at least do it big. Neil could learn a lesson from this man.
@boonepickens just stunted on me heavy.
There has never before been a point in history when a young black guy rich off of Canadian soap operas and luxury super-rap could exchange words with a quasi-eccentric super-rich octogenarian who loves wind power. Now they can—in public. And that, simply, is awesome.
Twitter: where world’s collide, and that’s a good thing.
It’s the end of May, right? (Taken with instagram)
RIP Maurice Sendak (June 10, 1928 – May 8, 2012).
That time of year. (Taken with instagram)