Signs of the Apocalypse

As taken up in the comments to a post below, some speculation has emerged in the last few years that evangelical Christians (which, for polling purposes, apparently includes Catholics) will begin moving into the ranks of Democratic voters beginning this election cycle or the next. The rationale seems to be that conservative Christians have begun to feel used and deceived by Bush and the Republicans' appropriation of all things God, and that they identify more with Democrats' muddled theology and acceptance of difference. I know at least one devout Anglican professor who thinks the Democrats ought to drop everything and begin courting the evangelical vote post-haste, since social reform, benevolence, and liberalism are the bailiwick of the Democratic party. I guess that strategy depends for its efficacy upon whether heretofore Republican voters are pre- or post-millennialists?

Anyway, debate.

The Worst Library in the World

The Chicago Public Library is the worst in America, if not anywhere.

You may check out materials for 3 weeks at a time, although you must catch the library during one of its rare "open" times. The main branch closes at 4:30 pm on Fridays, because as everyone knows, nobody reads on the weekends. And just in case you wanted to check out a book on the way to work, the library doesn't open until 9:30 on weekdays.

The best part of the library's "website" (which I hesitate to even call a website since it barely functions and contains no useful information whatsoever) is that when you search for a book you don't get the call number, but rather the collection it's in (social science, business, history, etc.). For the call number, you have to open two more pages. It's fucking brilliant, if you're trying to keep people from ever using your library.

Today's discovery is that you cannot renew books online. In fact, you cannot renew books over the telephone even. No, you have to go in person to the library and speak to a librarian about renewal. The big question, of course, is "do I have to have the book with me?" or at least that's what the library's online FAQ page seems to think. Attention, you fucking retards: that's not the #1 question that springs to mind when I find that the nation's 3rd largest city has a library that requires patrons to commute downtown to renew a book. I am not befuddled and wondering "hmmm, should I take the book with me? I mean, if I'm going to be physically present, maybe the book has to be, too?"

My only real question is, "given that the likelihood of me using your library ever again is absolutely nil, should I keep this book or should I write down all my complaints in the margins and read them aloud to the desk staff, manifesto-style?" adding only, "Bitch."

What Happened to the Hockey, eh?

Apparently Hockey Night In Canada, which has been on CBC, the Canadian version of PBS (minus the suck) for 55 years, will be no more after the 2007-08 season. CBC currently pays about $60 million a year (no word on whether that's American or Canadian dollars) for broadcast rights and, as a result of the profits from hockey games, the station can afford to air all sorts of independent programs and doesn't have to rely on pledge drives just to support third-rate hacks like Tucker Carlson.

Bell GlobeMedia is apparently offering $1.4 billion over 10 years for the rights to hockey games up north, and has already begun hiring away talent from American and Canadian hockey broadcasters (request to Bell GlobeMedia: take Steve Levy and Mike Emrick. Please.).

According to the Sporting News:

"Hundreds, if not thousands, of jobs will be lost. Important documentaries and educational programs will not be financed, purchased or aired. Sooner than later, the CBC will become PBS...

Indeed, when we talk about NHL broadcasting rights and whether or not CBC's legendary Hockey Night In Canada program will become mere legend, what we're really debating is the nature and focus of Canada's national broadcaster.

Some believe the CBC is a tax-wasting propaganda tool of the country's political left and deserves to be privatized post-haste. Others believe the network provides a vital public service by keeping the population informed and should be protected from advertiser pressure by fully bankrolling it via government funds.

We're squarely in the latter group. And that's not because this writer has been paid to appear on CBC programming for the last few years.

All you need to do is look at some of Canada's other private broadcasters, such as the one that decided against airing live coverage of two separate provincial elections in favor of Friends and Survivor episodes, to see what bottom-line economics and ratings fixations can do to a newsroom. The CBC's relative independence means it can afford to avoid Brangelina, Vaughniston and other symptoms of our celebrity-smitten culture, and instead pursue stories of real and lasting civic consequence."

Who knew that hockey was not just Canada's national game, but also the lifeblood of its body politic? I'm all for keeping the NHL in business, and I reject the charge--leveled at the Carolina Hurricanes, in particular, of late--that Canadians and their teams have a special claim on the sport that entails greater emotional experience and a deeper understanding of tradition. But I do believe in the desireability of regional variation, and I think going to Canada (or failing that, getting a satellite feed and tuning in CBC and HNIC) to see a game or two is a cool experience that any real fan should try to have; just as a fan of baseball should see a game in the DR, or a fan of high school football should see a game in one of the Colosseums of the Texas wasteland.

Better than a Tall Ship

I think this is a Hans Christian (38?), although I have no reason to think that is correct, except that I saw one once as a kid and thought it was a really neat boat. When I saw this one heading out of Belmont Harbor I just instinctively blurted out "look, there's a Hans Christian!" and then looked around to see if any more knowledgeable boat people were laughing.

The Hans Christian design features a double-ended hull, low-slung cabin with four ports each side, usually with built-in space on the cabin top for an air conditioner (which I believe you can see just forward of the mast in this picture). What makes it cool is the extreme sheer (curvature) of the hull from front to back and the usually extensive brightwork on top of an already elegant (if it's old enough, wooden) boat. Is it or isn't it?

Tall Ships Chicago 2006

It was both more and less than I expected.

As though you didn't already know

Why are the most earnest people (in this case, fundamentalist Christians) also almost uniformly functionally illiterate?

Through a Glass Eye, Darkly

The Chicago Disability History Exhibit will be in town until August 31 (after which, presumably, it will join Black History Month in the netherworld where all superficial attempts at diversity go after people tire of them).

I haven't been to the disability exhibit, but from talking to my colleagues who have been, I gather that the whole presentation has some serious problems. For one, it's relatively inaccessible to those who are of a different mind or who aren't disposed to truly see or hear what the presenters are trying to say.

Moreover, I've been told that the exhibit uses all forms of disability, be they mental, physical, congenital or acquired, as a crutch, relying on audience sympathy for a free pass on historical accuracy or meaning. It seems that the presenters don't really have a leg to stand on, and often turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to queries about relevance and content, instead preferring to vacantly gibber on about any and all afflictions as though they are the fever dreams of the same microcephalic mind.

This method betrays a certain intellectual incontinence; the exhibit's creators just let it all gush forth and hope that a self-selecting audience will find value somewhere. This has always been a problem, from the first moments when disability studies came, malformed and premature, into the world. Overall, it does more to hobble the endeavor than spur it along, out of the attic and into the productive world, and if the mavens of disability history would just hack away the dead weight and graft on new, usable and utilitarian narratives, the subfield that is disability studies might one day begin to have a normal life among Clio's raggedy, misbegotten brood.

Everyone is Stupid but Me

Rick Reilly, who I suspect lives in an all-white suburb somewhere (possibly Utah?), has a piece on CNNSI.com about the heartbreaking story of a Little Leaguer (in Utah, so if I'm right about Honky Reilly, he didn't have to work very hard for this story) who survived brain cancer but struck out to end a championship game. Very sad.

You may remember Reilly as that guy who writes that "column" on the back page of Sports Illustrated--you know, the article you skip until you happen to be taking a shit and Sports Illustrated just happens to be in the can, and you briefly think about wiping your ass w...hey hey! An article I didn't see before! What's this, an arresting personal take on those new helmets they're wearing in the majors? A think piece about how long NBA players' shorts have gotten? How Michael Jordan and the Bulls of the 90's were actually pretty ordinary teams, but the 1968 Celtics, now there was a fuckin' team, sonny!

What I'm saying is, if you don't regularly wipe your...I mean, read Rick Reilly's column, then you're really missing out. And overspending for toilet paper.

So here's the story.

Key paragraphs, you lazy bastards:

"In a nine- and 10-year-old PONY league championship game in Bountiful, Utah, the Yankees lead the Red Sox by one run. The Sox are up in the bottom of the last inning, two outs, a runner on third. At the plate is the Sox' best hitter, a kid named Jordan. On deck is the Sox' worst hitter, a kid named Romney. He's a scrawny cancer survivor who has to take human growth hormone and has a shunt in his brain.
So, you're the coach: Do you intentionally walk the star hitter so you can face the kid who can barely swing?
Wait! Before you answer.... This is a league where everybody gets to bat, there's a four-runs-per-inning max, and no stealing until the ball crosses the plate. On the other hand, the stands are packed and it is the title game.
So ... do you pitch to the star or do you lay it all on the kid who's been through hell already?
Yanks coach Bob Farley decided to walk the star.
Parents booed. The umpire, Mike Wright, thought to himself, Low-ball move. In the stands, Romney's eight-year-old sister cried. "They're picking on Romney!" she said. Romney struck out. The Yanks celebrated. The Sox moaned. The two coaching staffs nearly brawled.
And Romney? He sobbed himself to sleep that night."

Uh, what?

Is this guy serious? And later in the article he wants the readers to decide whether this was "right" or "wrong." Come again? Or as Romney might say, "Shunt the fuck up, Reilly! You're killing me!"

First of all--and I can't believe that somebody has to tell Rick Reilly this--Lil' Romney was on a baseball team. Did all his supporters, including the ones who weren't his fans until this moment, miss that fact? Did they really think he could play in a baseball game without striking out? Maybe he should have been on a chess team or something.

Jim Edmonds, who has nothing visibly wrong with him, is hitting .259 this year in the Major Leagues, and we know from his lifetime stats that he is a great baseball player. I can't imagine what he would be hitting if he, like Romney, had a shunt in his brain. Are the kid's parents really going to act like they're shocked that he struck out? Are his opponents supposed to pretend he's Ty Cobb and pitch around him, too? I mean, what the fuck do you people want?

But, of course, that is not what people are mad about. They think the coach of the other team should have pitched to the slugger and let gimpy Romney off the hook (unless, of course, the big hitter drew a walk or hit a single...for that matter, anything less than a home run; then the other coach was ostensibly supposed to tell his pitcher to hit Romney's bat, his infielders to trip over their shoes and fall down, and he himself was supposed to blow the little fella while he circled the bases. Right?

You know who's to blame here. Romney's own coach.

That's right. It's obvious: you don't slot your worst hitter behind your best. That's like putting "Hey! Stupid! Walk me!" on the power hitter's chest. Is this the first time this has ever been an issue? I find that hard to believe, unless Ol' Rom was a defensive substitution or a pinch-hitter (in which case, "WHAT?!?"). Barry Bonds, Lance Berkman, Jim Thome, Andruw Jones...every power hitter has protection behind him in the lineup.

When I played as a kid, I hit behind a kid named Ty, who could crank one over the fence, on average, every third trip to the plate. Me, I was more a gap hitter, so if you walked Ty, chances were I'd drive him in. Our worst player, who honest to God did have a bandage on his head and had Pellagra or something (God bless you, South), hit dead last. And you know what? We were all OK with that. He was, too. He didn't want to strike out in the clutch, either. Is Romney's coach new to the game, or is he the one who needs a brain scan?

Bottom line: don't put your team in that position, where they have to beg for mercy from an opponent and, if they don't get it the other guy looks like an asshole when really it's your own fault for being a fucking moron.

Don't tell that to the king of the morons, though, Rick Reilly.