Friday, January 30, 2004
Courtesy of Moses friend Kansas City Tums the Moses Aton blog now allows you to post comments. . . Enjoy my disciples. . .
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Thursday, January 29, 2004
Wellness Tips by Satchel Paige:
Today's wellness tips are brought to us by the great Satchel Paige, the Negro Leagues Great and perhaps the greatest pitcher of all time:
1. Avoid fried meats which angry up the blood.
2. If you stomach disputes you, lie down and pacify it with cool thoughts.
3. Keep the juices flowing by jangling around gently as you move.
4. Go very light on the vices, such as carrying on in society. The social ramble ain't restful.
5. Avoid running at all times.
6. Don't look back. Something might be gaining on you.
People try to put us down,
Moe
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Today's wellness tips are brought to us by the great Satchel Paige, the Negro Leagues Great and perhaps the greatest pitcher of all time:
1. Avoid fried meats which angry up the blood.
2. If you stomach disputes you, lie down and pacify it with cool thoughts.
3. Keep the juices flowing by jangling around gently as you move.
4. Go very light on the vices, such as carrying on in society. The social ramble ain't restful.
5. Avoid running at all times.
6. Don't look back. Something might be gaining on you.
People try to put us down,
Moe
Thank you all for your wonderful thoughts and comments recently about the blog. The Moses Aton blog has grown dramatically in terms of readership and we've had over 100 hits since Sunday. Which is incredible. I have added a few links which reflect my interests. The things that are important to me in life, the things that I love. Baseball. Cars. Horse Racing. Pete Townshend. Maybe, if you check out some these sites you might find some enjoyment in these things. . .
Anyway, so the blog is a very interesting thing I think. It serves for me as a sort of online public diary in some way, it serves as a sort of rudimentary writing exercise for me, it allows me to disseminate my thoughts very efficiently to friends and family, but perhaps most of all, I consider it the opening note of a dialogue with my readers. That's why I have really appreciated your thoughts and comments lately. It's interesting what many of you thought that "our snow" really ends up being. To hear your thoughts on how I handled the Subway ethical dilemna. It's intriguing too for me to see how many of my readers feel the same way I do about things.
Well, thanks again and please keep your e-mails coming!
I lost all contact with my only saviour,
MA
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Anyway, so the blog is a very interesting thing I think. It serves for me as a sort of online public diary in some way, it serves as a sort of rudimentary writing exercise for me, it allows me to disseminate my thoughts very efficiently to friends and family, but perhaps most of all, I consider it the opening note of a dialogue with my readers. That's why I have really appreciated your thoughts and comments lately. It's interesting what many of you thought that "our snow" really ends up being. To hear your thoughts on how I handled the Subway ethical dilemna. It's intriguing too for me to see how many of my readers feel the same way I do about things.
Well, thanks again and please keep your e-mails coming!
I lost all contact with my only saviour,
MA
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
What is Our Snow?
A few years back I visited Alaska for the first time. The primary goal of my trip was to study the wildlife and to enjoy the incredible angling opportunities. I witnessed several exceptional forms of life including sea lions, sea otters, bald eagles, a moose, a musk ox and even a plant that was both deciduous and coniferous. But perhaps the creature that fascinated me the most was the polar bear. Although this was one of the few animals I was not able to witness in it's natural habitat, I saw it at the zoo, the creature fascinated me. The polar bear is absolutely intriguing and getting even more and more fascinating as we learn more about it. I would strongly encourage you to read today's NY Science Times article about polar bears here: http://www.nytimes.com/2004/01/27/science/27POLA.html
But this blog is not about polar bears, not really. But it is with a polar bear that we will begin. This bear's name is Alaska. She is a 10-year-old, 578-pound deaf female who was recently rescued from a Mexican circus. That's right: a Mexican circus. As if there is anywhere more out of place for a polar evolved for hundreds of centuries in Arctic cold and perfectly adapted to some of the harshest conditions on the planet. Our poor friend Alaska has fortunately though, finally escaped and is now living the good life in Baltimore (and presumably very excited about her new look Orioles, Tejada, Ponson Palmeiro!!) anyway when placed into her new $7 million digs in Baltimore apparently Alaska was thrilled, consider:
"They're in seventh polar-bear heaven today," said Dr. Chris Bartos, the assistant mammal curator. "Alaska spent most of her life in a small cage, with very little experience of things. The first time she saw snow, she was ecstatic."
What intrigued me about this was that poor Alaska was living in a completely alien environment lacking one of the most important things that she had been evolved to live in: snow.
Looking closely at myself and the lives of many of my equally existentially unhappy friends I am left wondering what crucial element are we missing? In short, what is our snow? Is it religion? Is it nature? Is it a return to an older style of living? Is it not what we are missing but we actually affirmatively have? Like pollution, like foods composed of partially hydrogenated soybean oil, like hours in front of computer screens and tv sets and movie screens?
In short, why is that we, despite having money and careers and nice urban apartments, why is it that we so often feel like polar bears in Mexican circuses? Is it that the industrial revolution, cars and computers have so radically changed our days? Consider this:
I wake up, I cough out some of the tobacco tar I have ingested throughout the past few years. I rub flouride all over my teeth, I use chemical compounds like soap and shampoo all over my body. I then spray myself with some cologne. I consume a beef patty sausage (composed no doubt of the meat from several cows) I have egg and cheese on there. I go outside in the cold weather, that I have not evolved to live in. The subway is packed but no one talks to anyone. I take an elevator upstairs to a high floor. I think of terrorists, 9/11. I sit down in front of my unnatural computer which hurts my eyes, I unnaturally type on my keyboard which causes carpal tunnel. do work that is that seems so far removed. I stress out. I need more money. I am going bald. I never go to the synaggoue to church or to a mosque. I am too fat. I am cold. I am not hungry, but it's lunch time. I eat a hot dog from a vendor on the street with fillers and chemicals. I drink some sugar water called Pepsi. I read the paper about people hurting each other. I hurt myself. My stomach hurts, I have a tums. I need a drink. I am tired. I want a cigarette. We never make eye contact. Can't talk to strangers. THIS IS NYC!!! I have a cigarette, I cough. I stop working, I am stressed. I need more money. I have a drink. It burns. I go home I lay down, I turn on my tv. My eyes hurt. I eat dinner. I shit. I piss. I sleep.
A polar bear in a Mexican circus? I -- we -- should be so lucky. I need some snow, whatever that means. . .
Nothing is everything, everything is nothing,
Mr. Aton
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A few years back I visited Alaska for the first time. The primary goal of my trip was to study the wildlife and to enjoy the incredible angling opportunities. I witnessed several exceptional forms of life including sea lions, sea otters, bald eagles, a moose, a musk ox and even a plant that was both deciduous and coniferous. But perhaps the creature that fascinated me the most was the polar bear. Although this was one of the few animals I was not able to witness in it's natural habitat, I saw it at the zoo, the creature fascinated me. The polar bear is absolutely intriguing and getting even more and more fascinating as we learn more about it. I would strongly encourage you to read today's NY Science Times article about polar bears here: http://www.nytimes.com/2004/01/27/science/27POLA.html
But this blog is not about polar bears, not really. But it is with a polar bear that we will begin. This bear's name is Alaska. She is a 10-year-old, 578-pound deaf female who was recently rescued from a Mexican circus. That's right: a Mexican circus. As if there is anywhere more out of place for a polar evolved for hundreds of centuries in Arctic cold and perfectly adapted to some of the harshest conditions on the planet. Our poor friend Alaska has fortunately though, finally escaped and is now living the good life in Baltimore (and presumably very excited about her new look Orioles, Tejada, Ponson Palmeiro!!) anyway when placed into her new $7 million digs in Baltimore apparently Alaska was thrilled, consider:
"They're in seventh polar-bear heaven today," said Dr. Chris Bartos, the assistant mammal curator. "Alaska spent most of her life in a small cage, with very little experience of things. The first time she saw snow, she was ecstatic."
What intrigued me about this was that poor Alaska was living in a completely alien environment lacking one of the most important things that she had been evolved to live in: snow.
Looking closely at myself and the lives of many of my equally existentially unhappy friends I am left wondering what crucial element are we missing? In short, what is our snow? Is it religion? Is it nature? Is it a return to an older style of living? Is it not what we are missing but we actually affirmatively have? Like pollution, like foods composed of partially hydrogenated soybean oil, like hours in front of computer screens and tv sets and movie screens?
In short, why is that we, despite having money and careers and nice urban apartments, why is it that we so often feel like polar bears in Mexican circuses? Is it that the industrial revolution, cars and computers have so radically changed our days? Consider this:
I wake up, I cough out some of the tobacco tar I have ingested throughout the past few years. I rub flouride all over my teeth, I use chemical compounds like soap and shampoo all over my body. I then spray myself with some cologne. I consume a beef patty sausage (composed no doubt of the meat from several cows) I have egg and cheese on there. I go outside in the cold weather, that I have not evolved to live in. The subway is packed but no one talks to anyone. I take an elevator upstairs to a high floor. I think of terrorists, 9/11. I sit down in front of my unnatural computer which hurts my eyes, I unnaturally type on my keyboard which causes carpal tunnel. do work that is that seems so far removed. I stress out. I need more money. I am going bald. I never go to the synaggoue to church or to a mosque. I am too fat. I am cold. I am not hungry, but it's lunch time. I eat a hot dog from a vendor on the street with fillers and chemicals. I drink some sugar water called Pepsi. I read the paper about people hurting each other. I hurt myself. My stomach hurts, I have a tums. I need a drink. I am tired. I want a cigarette. We never make eye contact. Can't talk to strangers. THIS IS NYC!!! I have a cigarette, I cough. I stop working, I am stressed. I need more money. I have a drink. It burns. I go home I lay down, I turn on my tv. My eyes hurt. I eat dinner. I shit. I piss. I sleep.
A polar bear in a Mexican circus? I -- we -- should be so lucky. I need some snow, whatever that means. . .
Nothing is everything, everything is nothing,
Mr. Aton
Monday, January 26, 2004
OK, all I have a special treat for you all today. Here is an IM between me and my friend K-Dog (aka Blue Trash). Blue Trash is a very interesting human being, although his roots are blueblood through and through all his sensibilites are distinctly white trash. His mother, and I shit you not, is literally at the White House today, his father is an esteemed NYC physician and his sister is a Harvard educated theologian. Blue Trash is actually a really smart guy in his own right and highly educated, it's just that he cannot resist the allure of boxing, horse racing, BBQ, UNC college hoops, beer, tobacco, etc. He's an incredible dichotomy, you'll find him discussing Kant on the one hand and turning to why the Kansas City Chiefs Kant make it without a better defense and QB next year. Dicussing the concept of petty larceny in New York State and the concept of Richard Petty in Talledega the next. You get the idea, anyway even though he was born and raised in Manhattan, he has uncharacteristically chosen the team out in Flushing to be obsessed with. He owns Mets jerseys with the names Vaughn and Pulsipher on the back, he worships the 1999 Mets infield and has a shrine that infield in his apartment and he considers Dwight Gooden to be holier than the Dalai Llama. He is classy yet absurd, refined yet gluttonous, contradictory yet incredibly consistent, a beer swilling graduate degree holding, blue blood white trash, insane yet extremely intelligent, super heterosexual and yet attracted to Jose Reyes. In short, he's one of my all time favorite buddies. Below is a very typical exchange between us:
BT: hey
Moses Aton: hey
Moses Aton: what's on tv? anythign good?
Blue trash: don't know still got a few hours work
Blue trash: im watching the cavs game on nba full court
Blue trash: glad lebron is back
Moses Aton: dude he's amazing
Blue trash: he killed me last week
Moses Aton: imagine the career that guy is going to have
Moses Aton: Holy Shit
Blue trash: mcgrady has 34 T THE Hlf
Blue trash: AT THE HALF
Moses Aton: maybe he'll even play in the Kobe welcome back game
Moses Aton: when Kobe gets out of the BIG house
Blue trash: you know whats weird?
Blue trash: 9 out 0f 10 times an NBA player has an insane first half, they disappear in the second half
Moses Aton: yeah it's b/c coaches adjust
Blue trash: r is it just the time sitting
Moses Aton: they focus on stopping that palyer
Moses Aton: and it could be that
Moses Aton: dude I doubt McGrady will score 68
Blue trash: but they are always keyed on TMac
Moses Aton: they key more
Moses Aton: they examine how to stop him
Moses Aton: also I think he wears out
Blue trash: the cavs are much ebtter with lebron at the 2
Moses Aton: T Mac would look good in Blue and orange
Moses Aton: I like Lebron at the 2
Moses Aton: I agree
Moses Aton: I like Deng at the 2 too
Blue trash: yeah, he would look good in blue and orange
Moses Aton: I love Luol. . .
Moses Aton: maybe Isiah can make it happen
Blue trash: I love Lebron
Blue trash: I wonder if dallas would trade jamison for van horn
Blue trash: id marry jamison
Moses Aton: uh. . . I doubt it. . .
Moses Aton: you're a little sketchy
Blue trash: yep
Blue trash: he's the shit
Moses Aton: nubile dominicans and marring UNC grads. . .
Blue trash: he's not a grad
Moses Aton: if you want to marry a UNC grad at least pull a Nomar
Moses Aton: she's a piece
Blue trash: he and vinsanity left early
Moses Aton: didn't one of them gradate?
Moses Aton: I think VC did
Blue trash: vinsanity went back
Moses Aton: he went back
Moses Aton: yes
Moses Aton: I remember
Blue trash: i love NBA league pass
Blue trash: NBA seaon is great
Moses Aton: great sportscenter that night
Blue trash: so many insane athletes
Moses Aton: they showed Dustin Hoffman at a Lakers game
Blue trash: borderline psychotics worth 80 ,million
Moses Aton: and then VC back at UNC
Blue trash: heh
Blue trash: I LOVE THIS GAME
Blue trash: Its FANNNNNTASTIC
Moses Aton: and were like: the graduate and the Graduate
Moses Aton: remember that?
Moses Aton: I thought that was funny
Blue trash: yep, he lost game 5 of that series for the raptors by dicking around at graqduation
Moses Aton: yeah
Moses Aton: he did it for his momma
Blue trash: iron unkind to TMAC this half
Moses Aton: you'd d the same thing
Moses Aton: admit it
Blue trash: sure i would
Moses Aton: you did actually
Moses Aton: after leave G town early
Moses Aton: you went back to FU
Blue trash: declaring as a bartender
Blue trash: then getting my degree in the Excel program
Moses Aton: oh yeah
Moses Aton: you got your associates degree
Blue trash: God, who casn't love the NBA regular season?
Moses Aton: I don't get that NBA package
Moses Aton: I probablt should
Blue trash: its a great package
Moses Aton: I get the MLB one
Moses Aton: that's amazing
Blue trash: i get that too
Blue trash: its so good
Moses Aton: I love the MLB package
Moses Aton: yeah
Blue trash: but this is up there
Blue trash: getting to watch 82 Mavs game
Blue trash: 82 Lebron
Moses Aton: the MLB package is in my top five greatest things
Blue trash: 82 Jamison
Moses Aton: along with like women and food and booze and tobacco
Moses Aton: 82 Jamison?
Blue trash: yeah Tawn time every night!
Moses Aton: I saw this game at Duke
Blue trash: i want him to be a knick so bad
Moses Aton: it was amazing VC Antawn Brand Maggette Battier
Moses Aton: Easy Ed Cota
Blue trash: TMAC HURT
Moses Aton: Wojo
Moses Aton: Maktar N'Dyia
Moses Aton: oh shit really?
Blue trash: Maktar ruled
Blue trash: yeah looks like a bruised foot/stress fracture
Blue trash: Juwan just using Boozer
Blue trash: "This is where the Cavs really miss Tony Battie"
Blue trash: you dont hear that every day
Moses Aton: anyway tha that game was the shiznit
Moses Aton: can you imagine seeing all those guys in one game?
Blue trash: good time
Blue trash: ed should be in the league
Moses Aton: I think Coach K and Wojo had an "unnatural relationship"
Moses Aton: where is Easy Ed?
Moses Aton: I miss him
Blue trash: dunno, great disher
Moses Aton: I really enjoyed watching him play
Moses Aton: he was fun
Blue trash: i mean if shammond williams is in the league, ed should be
Moses Aton: they blacklisted him
Blue trash: Felton is the Truth
Moses Aton: shammond still with Seattle?
Blue trash: yeah
Moses Aton: still have the fro?
Blue trash: Duke may be better, but Reddick is such a fag compared to Felton orMcCants
Moses Aton: you know where Cota's from right?
Blue trash: mid fro
Blue trash: crooklyn
Moses Aton: What about Luol?
Moses Aton: he's no fruit
Moses Aton: he's my nizzo
Blue trash: reddick is a laetneresque level fruit
Blue trash: duhon is pretty fruity too
Blue trash: duke's fruitiest club in years
Moses Aton: yeah fruity when they're giving it to UNC
Blue trash: mmhmm
Blue trash: we'll see
Blue trash: id be embarrassed to root for that bunch
Moses Aton: Duke it THE University of NC
Blue trash: and Coach K's a freak
Moses Aton: Coach K is a bit weird
Moses Aton: I'll give you that
Moses Aton: I've spoken with him
Blue trash: Id rather lose more and be a heels fan
Moses Aton: he's a weirdo
Blue trash: and deep in your heart you would too
Moses Aton: I think he was banging Wojo
Blue trash: yure a wanna be tar heel
Moses Aton: Nah man Duke's the place to be dude
Moses Aton: it's just better
Moses Aton: in every way
Blue trash: i should have gone to UNC
Moses Aton: it's like the Yankees but like even more
Moses Aton: uh heall yeah you shoulda
Moses Aton: that would have been awesome
Blue trash: yeah
Moses Aton: we could have gone to the farm all the me
Blue trash: Franklin street
Moses Aton: it would have been cool
Moses Aton: Franklin street is the shiznit
Moses Aton: lotsa broads for ya too
Moses Aton: lotsa booze
Moses Aton: NC is fun
Blue trash: i love the local commercials from places like cleveland on League Pass
Moses Aton: yeah they're funny
Moses Aton: I cna't wait for baseball to start
Moses Aton: Mets dealt Cerda
Blue trash: i know
Blue trash: Like Farrah Fawcett in 1977 ... good God. She was like the Gale Sayers of hot chicks. You really had to be there.
Blue trash: i love the sports guy
Blue trash: Some like Pam Anderson flamed out pretty quick -- she now looks like she's about to be introduced on Stage No. 3 at Mons Venus. But Heather Locklear has been getting it done for 20 years. She's like Karl Malone -- you can't even believe she's still in the league (and producing).
Moses Aton: who is your buddy who works for the Washington Post?
Blue trash: times
Blue trash: *******
Moses Aton: what's his beat?
Blue trash: college pigskin, goff, some college hoops
Moses Aton: is he good?
Moses Aton: does he like it?
Blue trash: yeah, and yeah
Moses Aton: how old is he?
Moses Aton: has he been at it for a while?
Blue trash: Phoebe Cates: She's the Bernard King of babes -- you never hear her name mentioned with the all-time greats, but mention her to the right guy, and they go crazy
Blue trash: done it since 94
Blue trash: shammond is now a member of the magic, actually
Blue trash: sprained left big toe for TMAC
Blue trash: type of injury that roto nightmares are made of
Blue trash: "I was cruising in first till TMAC sprained his toe and missed 18 gaMoses Atonsw -- and was probab le for the last ten so i couldnt bench him"
Blue trash: time for WWE RAW
Blue trash: woohoo
Blue trash: best TV of the week
Blue trash: ESPN.com: PAGE2 - Man in the mirror
Blue trash: best article i ever read
Moses Aton: where did you find that?
Blue trash: page 2 last year
Blue trash: i love ralph wiley
Moses Aton: it's old
Blue trash: great book on eric davis
Moses Aton: he's ok
Moses Aton: he gets real really racial a lot where it's not necesssary
Blue trash: deal with it whitey
Moses Aton: whitey?
Blue trash: yeah, you
Moses Aton: you're calling me whitey?
Blue trash: word life
Moses Aton: bluey!
Blue trash: word
Moses Aton: I might post this on the blog
Blue trash: post what you want, beotch
Moses Aton: ok I am going to I'll call you later. . .
Blue trash: ok
I'd gladly lose me to find you,
Moses
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BT: hey
Moses Aton: hey
Moses Aton: what's on tv? anythign good?
Blue trash: don't know still got a few hours work
Blue trash: im watching the cavs game on nba full court
Blue trash: glad lebron is back
Moses Aton: dude he's amazing
Blue trash: he killed me last week
Moses Aton: imagine the career that guy is going to have
Moses Aton: Holy Shit
Blue trash: mcgrady has 34 T THE Hlf
Blue trash: AT THE HALF
Moses Aton: maybe he'll even play in the Kobe welcome back game
Moses Aton: when Kobe gets out of the BIG house
Blue trash: you know whats weird?
Blue trash: 9 out 0f 10 times an NBA player has an insane first half, they disappear in the second half
Moses Aton: yeah it's b/c coaches adjust
Blue trash: r is it just the time sitting
Moses Aton: they focus on stopping that palyer
Moses Aton: and it could be that
Moses Aton: dude I doubt McGrady will score 68
Blue trash: but they are always keyed on TMac
Moses Aton: they key more
Moses Aton: they examine how to stop him
Moses Aton: also I think he wears out
Blue trash: the cavs are much ebtter with lebron at the 2
Moses Aton: T Mac would look good in Blue and orange
Moses Aton: I like Lebron at the 2
Moses Aton: I agree
Moses Aton: I like Deng at the 2 too
Blue trash: yeah, he would look good in blue and orange
Moses Aton: I love Luol. . .
Moses Aton: maybe Isiah can make it happen
Blue trash: I love Lebron
Blue trash: I wonder if dallas would trade jamison for van horn
Blue trash: id marry jamison
Moses Aton: uh. . . I doubt it. . .
Moses Aton: you're a little sketchy
Blue trash: yep
Blue trash: he's the shit
Moses Aton: nubile dominicans and marring UNC grads. . .
Blue trash: he's not a grad
Moses Aton: if you want to marry a UNC grad at least pull a Nomar
Moses Aton: she's a piece
Blue trash: he and vinsanity left early
Moses Aton: didn't one of them gradate?
Moses Aton: I think VC did
Blue trash: vinsanity went back
Moses Aton: he went back
Moses Aton: yes
Moses Aton: I remember
Blue trash: i love NBA league pass
Blue trash: NBA seaon is great
Moses Aton: great sportscenter that night
Blue trash: so many insane athletes
Moses Aton: they showed Dustin Hoffman at a Lakers game
Blue trash: borderline psychotics worth 80 ,million
Moses Aton: and then VC back at UNC
Blue trash: heh
Blue trash: I LOVE THIS GAME
Blue trash: Its FANNNNNTASTIC
Moses Aton: and were like: the graduate and the Graduate
Moses Aton: remember that?
Moses Aton: I thought that was funny
Blue trash: yep, he lost game 5 of that series for the raptors by dicking around at graqduation
Moses Aton: yeah
Moses Aton: he did it for his momma
Blue trash: iron unkind to TMAC this half
Moses Aton: you'd d the same thing
Moses Aton: admit it
Blue trash: sure i would
Moses Aton: you did actually
Moses Aton: after leave G town early
Moses Aton: you went back to FU
Blue trash: declaring as a bartender
Blue trash: then getting my degree in the Excel program
Moses Aton: oh yeah
Moses Aton: you got your associates degree
Blue trash: God, who casn't love the NBA regular season?
Moses Aton: I don't get that NBA package
Moses Aton: I probablt should
Blue trash: its a great package
Moses Aton: I get the MLB one
Moses Aton: that's amazing
Blue trash: i get that too
Blue trash: its so good
Moses Aton: I love the MLB package
Moses Aton: yeah
Blue trash: but this is up there
Blue trash: getting to watch 82 Mavs game
Blue trash: 82 Lebron
Moses Aton: the MLB package is in my top five greatest things
Blue trash: 82 Jamison
Moses Aton: along with like women and food and booze and tobacco
Moses Aton: 82 Jamison?
Blue trash: yeah Tawn time every night!
Moses Aton: I saw this game at Duke
Blue trash: i want him to be a knick so bad
Moses Aton: it was amazing VC Antawn Brand Maggette Battier
Moses Aton: Easy Ed Cota
Blue trash: TMAC HURT
Moses Aton: Wojo
Moses Aton: Maktar N'Dyia
Moses Aton: oh shit really?
Blue trash: Maktar ruled
Blue trash: yeah looks like a bruised foot/stress fracture
Blue trash: Juwan just using Boozer
Blue trash: "This is where the Cavs really miss Tony Battie"
Blue trash: you dont hear that every day
Moses Aton: anyway tha that game was the shiznit
Moses Aton: can you imagine seeing all those guys in one game?
Blue trash: good time
Blue trash: ed should be in the league
Moses Aton: I think Coach K and Wojo had an "unnatural relationship"
Moses Aton: where is Easy Ed?
Moses Aton: I miss him
Blue trash: dunno, great disher
Moses Aton: I really enjoyed watching him play
Moses Aton: he was fun
Blue trash: i mean if shammond williams is in the league, ed should be
Moses Aton: they blacklisted him
Blue trash: Felton is the Truth
Moses Aton: shammond still with Seattle?
Blue trash: yeah
Moses Aton: still have the fro?
Blue trash: Duke may be better, but Reddick is such a fag compared to Felton orMcCants
Moses Aton: you know where Cota's from right?
Blue trash: mid fro
Blue trash: crooklyn
Moses Aton: What about Luol?
Moses Aton: he's no fruit
Moses Aton: he's my nizzo
Blue trash: reddick is a laetneresque level fruit
Blue trash: duhon is pretty fruity too
Blue trash: duke's fruitiest club in years
Moses Aton: yeah fruity when they're giving it to UNC
Blue trash: mmhmm
Blue trash: we'll see
Blue trash: id be embarrassed to root for that bunch
Moses Aton: Duke it THE University of NC
Blue trash: and Coach K's a freak
Moses Aton: Coach K is a bit weird
Moses Aton: I'll give you that
Moses Aton: I've spoken with him
Blue trash: Id rather lose more and be a heels fan
Moses Aton: he's a weirdo
Blue trash: and deep in your heart you would too
Moses Aton: I think he was banging Wojo
Blue trash: yure a wanna be tar heel
Moses Aton: Nah man Duke's the place to be dude
Moses Aton: it's just better
Moses Aton: in every way
Blue trash: i should have gone to UNC
Moses Aton: it's like the Yankees but like even more
Moses Aton: uh heall yeah you shoulda
Moses Aton: that would have been awesome
Blue trash: yeah
Moses Aton: we could have gone to the farm all the me
Blue trash: Franklin street
Moses Aton: it would have been cool
Moses Aton: Franklin street is the shiznit
Moses Aton: lotsa broads for ya too
Moses Aton: lotsa booze
Moses Aton: NC is fun
Blue trash: i love the local commercials from places like cleveland on League Pass
Moses Aton: yeah they're funny
Moses Aton: I cna't wait for baseball to start
Moses Aton: Mets dealt Cerda
Blue trash: i know
Blue trash: Like Farrah Fawcett in 1977 ... good God. She was like the Gale Sayers of hot chicks. You really had to be there.
Blue trash: i love the sports guy
Blue trash: Some like Pam Anderson flamed out pretty quick -- she now looks like she's about to be introduced on Stage No. 3 at Mons Venus. But Heather Locklear has been getting it done for 20 years. She's like Karl Malone -- you can't even believe she's still in the league (and producing).
Moses Aton: who is your buddy who works for the Washington Post?
Blue trash: times
Blue trash: *******
Moses Aton: what's his beat?
Blue trash: college pigskin, goff, some college hoops
Moses Aton: is he good?
Moses Aton: does he like it?
Blue trash: yeah, and yeah
Moses Aton: how old is he?
Moses Aton: has he been at it for a while?
Blue trash: Phoebe Cates: She's the Bernard King of babes -- you never hear her name mentioned with the all-time greats, but mention her to the right guy, and they go crazy
Blue trash: done it since 94
Blue trash: shammond is now a member of the magic, actually
Blue trash: sprained left big toe for TMAC
Blue trash: type of injury that roto nightmares are made of
Blue trash: "I was cruising in first till TMAC sprained his toe and missed 18 gaMoses Atonsw -- and was probab le for the last ten so i couldnt bench him"
Blue trash: time for WWE RAW
Blue trash: woohoo
Blue trash: best TV of the week
Blue trash: ESPN.com: PAGE2 - Man in the mirror
Blue trash: best article i ever read
Moses Aton: where did you find that?
Blue trash: page 2 last year
Blue trash: i love ralph wiley
Moses Aton: it's old
Blue trash: great book on eric davis
Moses Aton: he's ok
Moses Aton: he gets real really racial a lot where it's not necesssary
Blue trash: deal with it whitey
Moses Aton: whitey?
Blue trash: yeah, you
Moses Aton: you're calling me whitey?
Blue trash: word life
Moses Aton: bluey!
Blue trash: word
Moses Aton: I might post this on the blog
Blue trash: post what you want, beotch
Moses Aton: ok I am going to I'll call you later. . .
Blue trash: ok
I'd gladly lose me to find you,
Moses
If Dean doesn't win NH, I can't imagine that he still has a chance. If he's really done the legacy of his campaign will be his innovative usage of the internet and his unprecedented grassroots movement. . . The Bottom Line in the Village closed it's doors for the last time on Thursday, it's a shame that was a fun place. I first went there as a teenager in the early 1990's to see the Barenaked Ladies for the first time and had been there a bunch of times since. It's too bad they couldn't save it. . . Lionel Richie's new song 'Just for You' is not terrible. I shit you not. . . My sources tell me that this new KGB hangover pill actually works. Apparently the KGB had developed this pill for it's vodka swilling agents and now this pill is attainable on the internet. Gotta try it. . . Funny article in today's Times about scamming the ladies, check it out (yeah that means you, Great Egg -- that's what you get for IMing while I working on my blog): http://www.nytimes.com/2004/01/25/fashion/25PICK.html?ex=1076155191&ei=1&en=b15a1e675402edf8
Would someone tell me how to set up the blog so people can insert their opinions? Everyone keeps asking me to do it, but I don't know how. . . Market roared today. . .Looks like we're in for more snow. I trade a Jim Leyritz bat for a day in Florida at this point. . .
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Would someone tell me how to set up the blog so people can insert their opinions? Everyone keeps asking me to do it, but I don't know how. . . Market roared today. . .Looks like we're in for more snow. I trade a Jim Leyritz bat for a day in Florida at this point. . .
So Aaron Boone is out for the year. I saw that just a few hours ago and I kind of thought it was good news, now Cashman'll have to get a real 3B. Certainly, the Yankees won't start the season with Enrique Wilson as their 3B. More interestingly, with the Red Sox going into the season with two aces and an incredible offense could this be the beginning of a new Curse? Certainly considering the dramatic way that Boone etched his name into the annals of Beantown ignominy this could be an ominous harbinger of things to come this year. . . Be afraid Yankees fans. . . Be very afraid. . .
When a man tries to change it only causes further pain,
Maaah hah hah
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When a man tries to change it only causes further pain,
Maaah hah hah
Saturday, January 24, 2004
Every Man's Nightmare: Hungover Shopping
So it's been a rough almost 24 hours since my last entry, folks. At some point after I entered my last blog, my friend pops came over and debuted some of his newest musical compositions, which I was very impressed with. I was, in fact, so impressed and proud of pops who is basically a son to me (along with my other son Nived both my children are musicians) that I felt to the need to celebrate it with intoxicants. Specifically, Heineken and tall boy Buds. Also I finally broke down with my New Year's resolution and smoked a few cigarettes. We then trudged out in the Arctic weather and visited the Sheep. At this point I was thoroughly intoxicated and feeling pretty much like an alcoholic. You see the bar contained about 8 people. Two bartenders, two customers and my group. My group consisted of my two sons, my older son Pops and my younger son Nevid, pop's girlfriend and my friend the Great Egg. Anyway, because I was so despondent about feeling like an alcoholic I decided to drown my sorrows in alcohol.
Basically, we stood there and drank beer more or less uneventfully, I think at one point my discussion with pops may have become heated. Undoubtedly some Oedipal based dispute. After a few more drinks and a shot of whiskey I said my good byes and Nived and I grabbed some frozen dinners (Nived's food of choice) and trudged home. After some discussion I sent Nived to his room and I went to sleep. Now as most of you know, when you've been drinking you don't so much go to sleep as you do just pass out. So after drifting from a state of unconsicousness into sleep I awoke around 12 with an incredible hangover.
But ever the trooper I met Yoko at Subway and we dined on full price Subway wraps (ed. note: I feel that this is the first step in my penance for my discounted double meat meatball hero) and shared a bag of cool ranch Doritas the mother of all halitosis producing snacks. After eating a bag of those fuckers you could probably debilitate a person and certainly kill a small animal. They're called cool ranch but there ain't nothing cool about your breath after scarfing down a bag of those things.
Anyway, after Subway we headed over to the Container Store because Yoko needed to meet with one of their "consultants". Yes, that's right nestled deep in the heart of Chelsea is store that focuses on selling containers. When you walk in there is free bottled water. And as if that weren't strange enough, they actually have "consultants". That's right. You read my blog correctly, there are container "consultants". Now obviously this raises some very interesting questions. First and foremost: What the Hell is a container "consultant" Answer: Someone who helps you arrange your closet. Now why someone would feel the need the enlist the help of a professional to organize their closet is beyond me, but as Yoko pointed out considering the state of my apartment I am in no position to critique anyone's choices bout their apt. or efforts in improving their aforementioned apt. But next I wondered aloud to Yoko: What qualifies one to be a container "consultant"? Did they attend closet school? container school? Are they some sort junior engineer? Are some consultants better than others? I wondered are some consultants sought out for their preternatural organizing abilties? Well, I never did get the answers to these questions, but I don't intend to give up. Also I would add that Yoko didn't even get a chance to consult with one these home organiztional gurus because they were -- get this -- too busy!!! Apparently the city is teeming with individuals who feel so lost about the state of their closets that they actually need helping thinking through the process of organizing their closets. What I needed was a hangover consultant
Anyway, after we left the Container Store we ambled over to the nearby Aveda store. If you are anything like me you have no idea what Aveda is. I had never heard of Aveda until Yoko purchased some Aveda lip saver. Now if you have never used Aveda lip therapy, I would strongly urge you not to. You see Aveda is huge cosmetic racket where they sell these incredible products, the problem is as far as I am concerned, is that the prices are incredible as well. The lip saver, while incredible, cost about ten dollars. You could buy three winters worth of chapstick and/or blistex for ten bucks. But the problem is once you start using the stuff you cannot go back. Yes, that's right folks my name is Moses A. and I am an Avedaholic. But on the upside while Yoko was furiously buzzing around the Aveda store I had the opportunity to call a few friends, read the NY Times, download another Beatle ringer to my phone, enjoy the free hot tea they hand out to customers (I don't know what's with these places, but buddy I am thinking twice before hitting Starbucks or buying any more Poland Spring - a quick trip over to these places and you could have it all for free baby) oh and I chatted with the Morrocan security guard who tells me that being a guard Aveda is easy because no one ever tries to steal anything. I didn't have the heart to comment to him that he'd had eyes trained directly into mine for the better part of 15 minutes and that while he was talking to me and that during this Winona Ryder could have stuffed her pockets with Aveda products equalling roughly the cost of rebuilding Iraq. Regardless, he was a nice guy.
Ok, so after Yoko finished there and I have guzzled about six shot glasses chamomile licorice bergamot mint decaffeinated antioxidant fortified green tea
and learned more than I wanted to know about the Morrocan security guard's opinions on friendship (he believes that people are fundamentally duplicitous and nefarious and counts only his one cousin as a true friend) we hit the icy pavement once again bound for the subway.
About half way to the subway I begin begging Yoko to let us stop into any random store just to warm. Unlike Yoko I am well suited for the cold, my body is designed for desert weather and I don't do well in the cold. At any rate, Yoko decides that we can stop at the candle store. Yup that's right. There exists somewhere in Manhattan a store devoted entirely to candles. Entirely. They sell big candles little candles scented candles and nonscented candles all at exorbitant prices. I talk to the security guard a six foot three African Amercian man with dreads, who thinks that the new look Knicks could in fact make the playoffs and is considering becoming Nets fan when they move to Brooklyn. So anyway we, or I should Yoko, purchase several candles and warm a bit and then head back out into the Arctic cold. Anyway, I'd like to blog some more -- because I am not really sure that this blog went anywhere -- but I am freezing cold and there is a hot bath tub and a lit chamomile tea scented aroma therapy candle that costs almost a third of the price of a DVD player with my name on it and it's only T-minus 2 hours and a half until my boy K-dog and my son Nived come over to watch the Gatti Branco fight. I say Gatti in six, but I don't feel good enough about that to put any money on it. It's gonna be great fight.
I'm a boy, I'm a boy
But my ma won't admit it,
Moe
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So it's been a rough almost 24 hours since my last entry, folks. At some point after I entered my last blog, my friend pops came over and debuted some of his newest musical compositions, which I was very impressed with. I was, in fact, so impressed and proud of pops who is basically a son to me (along with my other son Nived both my children are musicians) that I felt to the need to celebrate it with intoxicants. Specifically, Heineken and tall boy Buds. Also I finally broke down with my New Year's resolution and smoked a few cigarettes. We then trudged out in the Arctic weather and visited the Sheep. At this point I was thoroughly intoxicated and feeling pretty much like an alcoholic. You see the bar contained about 8 people. Two bartenders, two customers and my group. My group consisted of my two sons, my older son Pops and my younger son Nevid, pop's girlfriend and my friend the Great Egg. Anyway, because I was so despondent about feeling like an alcoholic I decided to drown my sorrows in alcohol.
Basically, we stood there and drank beer more or less uneventfully, I think at one point my discussion with pops may have become heated. Undoubtedly some Oedipal based dispute. After a few more drinks and a shot of whiskey I said my good byes and Nived and I grabbed some frozen dinners (Nived's food of choice) and trudged home. After some discussion I sent Nived to his room and I went to sleep. Now as most of you know, when you've been drinking you don't so much go to sleep as you do just pass out. So after drifting from a state of unconsicousness into sleep I awoke around 12 with an incredible hangover.
But ever the trooper I met Yoko at Subway and we dined on full price Subway wraps (ed. note: I feel that this is the first step in my penance for my discounted double meat meatball hero) and shared a bag of cool ranch Doritas the mother of all halitosis producing snacks. After eating a bag of those fuckers you could probably debilitate a person and certainly kill a small animal. They're called cool ranch but there ain't nothing cool about your breath after scarfing down a bag of those things.
Anyway, after Subway we headed over to the Container Store because Yoko needed to meet with one of their "consultants". Yes, that's right nestled deep in the heart of Chelsea is store that focuses on selling containers. When you walk in there is free bottled water. And as if that weren't strange enough, they actually have "consultants". That's right. You read my blog correctly, there are container "consultants". Now obviously this raises some very interesting questions. First and foremost: What the Hell is a container "consultant" Answer: Someone who helps you arrange your closet. Now why someone would feel the need the enlist the help of a professional to organize their closet is beyond me, but as Yoko pointed out considering the state of my apartment I am in no position to critique anyone's choices bout their apt. or efforts in improving their aforementioned apt. But next I wondered aloud to Yoko: What qualifies one to be a container "consultant"? Did they attend closet school? container school? Are they some sort junior engineer? Are some consultants better than others? I wondered are some consultants sought out for their preternatural organizing abilties? Well, I never did get the answers to these questions, but I don't intend to give up. Also I would add that Yoko didn't even get a chance to consult with one these home organiztional gurus because they were -- get this -- too busy!!! Apparently the city is teeming with individuals who feel so lost about the state of their closets that they actually need helping thinking through the process of organizing their closets. What I needed was a hangover consultant
Anyway, after we left the Container Store we ambled over to the nearby Aveda store. If you are anything like me you have no idea what Aveda is. I had never heard of Aveda until Yoko purchased some Aveda lip saver. Now if you have never used Aveda lip therapy, I would strongly urge you not to. You see Aveda is huge cosmetic racket where they sell these incredible products, the problem is as far as I am concerned, is that the prices are incredible as well. The lip saver, while incredible, cost about ten dollars. You could buy three winters worth of chapstick and/or blistex for ten bucks. But the problem is once you start using the stuff you cannot go back. Yes, that's right folks my name is Moses A. and I am an Avedaholic. But on the upside while Yoko was furiously buzzing around the Aveda store I had the opportunity to call a few friends, read the NY Times, download another Beatle ringer to my phone, enjoy the free hot tea they hand out to customers (I don't know what's with these places, but buddy I am thinking twice before hitting Starbucks or buying any more Poland Spring - a quick trip over to these places and you could have it all for free baby) oh and I chatted with the Morrocan security guard who tells me that being a guard Aveda is easy because no one ever tries to steal anything. I didn't have the heart to comment to him that he'd had eyes trained directly into mine for the better part of 15 minutes and that while he was talking to me and that during this Winona Ryder could have stuffed her pockets with Aveda products equalling roughly the cost of rebuilding Iraq. Regardless, he was a nice guy.
Ok, so after Yoko finished there and I have guzzled about six shot glasses chamomile licorice bergamot mint decaffeinated antioxidant fortified green tea
and learned more than I wanted to know about the Morrocan security guard's opinions on friendship (he believes that people are fundamentally duplicitous and nefarious and counts only his one cousin as a true friend) we hit the icy pavement once again bound for the subway.
About half way to the subway I begin begging Yoko to let us stop into any random store just to warm. Unlike Yoko I am well suited for the cold, my body is designed for desert weather and I don't do well in the cold. At any rate, Yoko decides that we can stop at the candle store. Yup that's right. There exists somewhere in Manhattan a store devoted entirely to candles. Entirely. They sell big candles little candles scented candles and nonscented candles all at exorbitant prices. I talk to the security guard a six foot three African Amercian man with dreads, who thinks that the new look Knicks could in fact make the playoffs and is considering becoming Nets fan when they move to Brooklyn. So anyway we, or I should Yoko, purchase several candles and warm a bit and then head back out into the Arctic cold. Anyway, I'd like to blog some more -- because I am not really sure that this blog went anywhere -- but I am freezing cold and there is a hot bath tub and a lit chamomile tea scented aroma therapy candle that costs almost a third of the price of a DVD player with my name on it and it's only T-minus 2 hours and a half until my boy K-dog and my son Nived come over to watch the Gatti Branco fight. I say Gatti in six, but I don't feel good enough about that to put any money on it. It's gonna be great fight.
I'm a boy, I'm a boy
But my ma won't admit it,
Moe
Friday, January 23, 2004
The Baseball Progressive
Baseball fans are an odd lot. They are not boisterous as football fans, not as hip as NBA fans and perhaps not as manly and frontier as hockey fans. Nowadays, unfortunately for the game, they tend to be older. Often times that are as white as their proverbial collars tend to be. To say they take their sport seriously is tantamount to saying to Christians like Jesus. The baseball fan's reverence for by gone players, parks and even eras borders on the religious.
Like many peoples that subscribe to the idea that yesterday was better than today, they consider many of those by gone to represent a greatness now forever unattainable. The baseball fan often revels in anecdotes about the erstwhile Brooklyn Dodgers, the now forever lost to history Polo Grounds that once stood in Manhattan and long dead players like Babe Ruth and the despicable Ty Cobb. These men occupy the highest echelon in the sports world. Baseball fans lament the advent of the night game, artificial turf and, perhaps the epitome of how badly things have the designated hitter. This this type of baseball fan is often referred to as the "baseball purist" and the term has become virtually synonymous with "true baseball fan". Nevermind the fact that the so called "baseball purist" is a bore, a cliche and perhaps worst of all: a pessimist!
He doesn't understand that Camden Yards is infinitely better park than Memorial Park. That Tiger Stadium was a shithole compared to Comerica. That the Jake in Cleveland is so much better than the old mistake on the lake. Sure Ebbets Field and the Polo Ground were nifty, but we have that all again with the new parks and who knows? Maybe in 2030 the trend will be towards cookie cutter stadiums.
The so called doesn't understand that while Babe Ruth was a monster among men that he only played against white people and who knows if he would even make the pro's today. But assuming arguendo that he would have been great today anyway, so what? We have Barry Bonds, we have Albert Pujols we have Alex Rodriguez. The Babe was great and I am not propsosing that we abolish him from our collective but simply that while lionizing him we recognize that odds are he was no better than what we have today.
As for artificial turf, personally I like it. It changes the game, it alters the speed of the balls through the infield, it increases the liklihood of doubles and triples. I understand that this is my subjective opinion and I do undertstand that it does increase the liklihood of injuries. I just wonder why it is that the baseball purist so fiercely condemns uniformity when it comes to dimensions in ballparks and yet demands it when it comes to playing surface? Most likely it's that assymetrical ballparks harken the purist back to golden days whereas turf is a physical, and bright green, reminder of progress. As far as I am concerned: ROLL OUT THE CARPET!!
Finally, perhaps the apotheosis of the purist's complaint is the DH. No other argument raises the ire of the baseball purist like the DH. Being opposed to the DH is has become as American as unilateral invasions and preemptive strikes. Personally, I like the DH, it allows great hitters like Edgar and recent HoFer Molitor stick around, it prevents injuries to pitchers and in general it simply adds excitement. Who wants to watch Al Leiter hit three times a game? Wouldn't you rather see, say a Jose Canseco?
I understand that the DH eliminates some managing strategy for the manager, but at the end of the baseball is still plenty strategic and let's face fan go out to the park to see great at bats not to marvel and the manager's decisions!
I take such umbrage with the notion of the "baseball purist" because I am a colossal baseball fan myself and not at all a "baseball purist". This is the case because the very idea of being a purist or conservative makes my skin crawl. It is anathema to everything that I stand for as an attorney, as an American, and most of all as a human being. I believe in progress. I believe in growth. I believe in the human spirit and mostly, I believe that tomorrow will be better than yesterday.
But more important than how I feel about it, the fact is that baseball is rapidly losing ground. It has already lost it's status as the national pasttime to the NFL and kids today are much more interest in LeBron than LeBonds.
Let's stop living for yesterday and start thinking about tomorrow.
With thoughts as bold as bold can be,
Moses
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Baseball fans are an odd lot. They are not boisterous as football fans, not as hip as NBA fans and perhaps not as manly and frontier as hockey fans. Nowadays, unfortunately for the game, they tend to be older. Often times that are as white as their proverbial collars tend to be. To say they take their sport seriously is tantamount to saying to Christians like Jesus. The baseball fan's reverence for by gone players, parks and even eras borders on the religious.
Like many peoples that subscribe to the idea that yesterday was better than today, they consider many of those by gone to represent a greatness now forever unattainable. The baseball fan often revels in anecdotes about the erstwhile Brooklyn Dodgers, the now forever lost to history Polo Grounds that once stood in Manhattan and long dead players like Babe Ruth and the despicable Ty Cobb. These men occupy the highest echelon in the sports world. Baseball fans lament the advent of the night game, artificial turf and, perhaps the epitome of how badly things have the designated hitter. This this type of baseball fan is often referred to as the "baseball purist" and the term has become virtually synonymous with "true baseball fan". Nevermind the fact that the so called "baseball purist" is a bore, a cliche and perhaps worst of all: a pessimist!
He doesn't understand that Camden Yards is infinitely better park than Memorial Park. That Tiger Stadium was a shithole compared to Comerica. That the Jake in Cleveland is so much better than the old mistake on the lake. Sure Ebbets Field and the Polo Ground were nifty, but we have that all again with the new parks and who knows? Maybe in 2030 the trend will be towards cookie cutter stadiums.
The so called doesn't understand that while Babe Ruth was a monster among men that he only played against white people and who knows if he would even make the pro's today. But assuming arguendo that he would have been great today anyway, so what? We have Barry Bonds, we have Albert Pujols we have Alex Rodriguez. The Babe was great and I am not propsosing that we abolish him from our collective but simply that while lionizing him we recognize that odds are he was no better than what we have today.
As for artificial turf, personally I like it. It changes the game, it alters the speed of the balls through the infield, it increases the liklihood of doubles and triples. I understand that this is my subjective opinion and I do undertstand that it does increase the liklihood of injuries. I just wonder why it is that the baseball purist so fiercely condemns uniformity when it comes to dimensions in ballparks and yet demands it when it comes to playing surface? Most likely it's that assymetrical ballparks harken the purist back to golden days whereas turf is a physical, and bright green, reminder of progress. As far as I am concerned: ROLL OUT THE CARPET!!
Finally, perhaps the apotheosis of the purist's complaint is the DH. No other argument raises the ire of the baseball purist like the DH. Being opposed to the DH is has become as American as unilateral invasions and preemptive strikes. Personally, I like the DH, it allows great hitters like Edgar and recent HoFer Molitor stick around, it prevents injuries to pitchers and in general it simply adds excitement. Who wants to watch Al Leiter hit three times a game? Wouldn't you rather see, say a Jose Canseco?
I understand that the DH eliminates some managing strategy for the manager, but at the end of the baseball is still plenty strategic and let's face fan go out to the park to see great at bats not to marvel and the manager's decisions!
I take such umbrage with the notion of the "baseball purist" because I am a colossal baseball fan myself and not at all a "baseball purist". This is the case because the very idea of being a purist or conservative makes my skin crawl. It is anathema to everything that I stand for as an attorney, as an American, and most of all as a human being. I believe in progress. I believe in growth. I believe in the human spirit and mostly, I believe that tomorrow will be better than yesterday.
But more important than how I feel about it, the fact is that baseball is rapidly losing ground. It has already lost it's status as the national pasttime to the NFL and kids today are much more interest in LeBron than LeBonds.
Let's stop living for yesterday and start thinking about tomorrow.
With thoughts as bold as bold can be,
Moses
Moses Facts
Name: Moses Aton
Hometown: New York, NY
Favorite Food: Sushi
Favorite Drink: 7/11 Slurpee
Favorite Sports Team: Kansas City Chiefs
Favorite Athlete: Jim Leyritz
Favorite Movie: Silence of the Lambs
Least Favorite Movie: 3 way tie The English Patient, The Hours, Monster's Ball
Favorite Actor: Peter Lorre
Favorite Actress: Anne Margaret
Favorite Musician: Pete Townshend
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Name: Moses Aton
Hometown: New York, NY
Favorite Food: Sushi
Favorite Drink: 7/11 Slurpee
Favorite Sports Team: Kansas City Chiefs
Favorite Athlete: Jim Leyritz
Favorite Movie: Silence of the Lambs
Least Favorite Movie: 3 way tie The English Patient, The Hours, Monster's Ball
Favorite Actor: Peter Lorre
Favorite Actress: Anne Margaret
Favorite Musician: Pete Townshend
Captain Kangaroo always actually freaked me out a little bit, you know?
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The Diane Sawyer interview did not look good at all for Howard Dean. He comes off as really weird, I think. Also, his wife is both not photogenic and annoying. Diane Sawyer on the other had comes off extremely well, she's really nice looking -- especially considering that she was working for Nixon before I was born and I am almost five years out of law school!!!
Daddy never sleeps at night,
M. ATON
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Daddy never sleeps at night,
M. ATON
Wellness Tip: Taco Hell
Do not, in an attempt to avoid the severe heartburn episode that you experienced the night before attempt to order cheap Mexican food as a late night snack thinking it is lighter than a double meat meatball hero from Subway. Your heartburn, while not as severe as the night before, will still prevent your dumb culinarily recidivist fat ass from falling asleep and compel you to write fruity and reflective blogs about your family and existence. This will leave you both gaseous and emotionally drained and in desperate need of a bath (see previous wellness tip).
Every year it's the same;
And I feel it again;
I'm a loser no chance to win,
M.A.
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Do not, in an attempt to avoid the severe heartburn episode that you experienced the night before attempt to order cheap Mexican food as a late night snack thinking it is lighter than a double meat meatball hero from Subway. Your heartburn, while not as severe as the night before, will still prevent your dumb culinarily recidivist fat ass from falling asleep and compel you to write fruity and reflective blogs about your family and existence. This will leave you both gaseous and emotionally drained and in desperate need of a bath (see previous wellness tip).
Every year it's the same;
And I feel it again;
I'm a loser no chance to win,
M.A.
Nieces and grandfathers
Near my computer is a black and white picture taken in another country in 1938. In this picture there is a young boy, he is probably not even four years old yet. His hands are on his hips and he is looking into camera. Behind him are his mother and father and all around him are his seven brothers and sisters. Looking at that little boy I see a reflection of myself in many ways. Behind him there is his older brother and behind him is a fifty year old man, again I see a reflection. This is not surprising because this man is my grandfather, before him is my uncle and before him, the little boy is my father.
When I minimize the window I am currently typing into there is in the background on my computer is a beautiful high definition color image lit by thousands of tiny pixels. The picture was taken yesterday near the center of NYC and it is of a little baby barely a month old. She is adorable, I think objectively, but I'll never really know, that's because the picture is of my one and only niece.
There on my desktop are two contrasting images but both are deeply personal. Where my DNA comes from and in some ways, where it is going.
But perhaps, even more interesting I wonder about how the 50 year old man in the picture would react to the fact that here in NYC halfway across the world from where he spent his life there is a child living in city full of what to him would seem magical wonders. The very medium over which you are currently reading this blog would no doubt amaze and astound that 50 y/o man in 1938 that happens to be my grandfather.
To me it is incredible that I sit here in the prime of my life typing this blog with almost my entire life situated so far in between those two pictures. I wonder about the amazing things that will exist in the world when my niece is my age now, the things that she will see. I wonder if someday a long time from now some woman or man will type (speak?, think?) a log entry about images from the past. Maybe these images, undoubtedly freed from the material world like the one of my niece floating somewhere in cyberspace, will move him like these two pictures for just a moment taking him out of the moment to moment existence that he lives in and helping him to see that his entire existence is but a speck in the infinite continium of time and space that we live in. But, hopefully he'll know better than to let this realization make him feel small and insignificant, beacause he will understand that every decision he makes at every moment invariably and irreversably impacts the continium forever. Somehow the actions of that 50 year old man in 1938, now long dead, brought about this little wonderful creature that is probably keeping my poor sister up as I write this. . .
I'm gonna get to where I'm gonna end up,
Mo Mo Moses
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Near my computer is a black and white picture taken in another country in 1938. In this picture there is a young boy, he is probably not even four years old yet. His hands are on his hips and he is looking into camera. Behind him are his mother and father and all around him are his seven brothers and sisters. Looking at that little boy I see a reflection of myself in many ways. Behind him there is his older brother and behind him is a fifty year old man, again I see a reflection. This is not surprising because this man is my grandfather, before him is my uncle and before him, the little boy is my father.
When I minimize the window I am currently typing into there is in the background on my computer is a beautiful high definition color image lit by thousands of tiny pixels. The picture was taken yesterday near the center of NYC and it is of a little baby barely a month old. She is adorable, I think objectively, but I'll never really know, that's because the picture is of my one and only niece.
There on my desktop are two contrasting images but both are deeply personal. Where my DNA comes from and in some ways, where it is going.
But perhaps, even more interesting I wonder about how the 50 year old man in the picture would react to the fact that here in NYC halfway across the world from where he spent his life there is a child living in city full of what to him would seem magical wonders. The very medium over which you are currently reading this blog would no doubt amaze and astound that 50 y/o man in 1938 that happens to be my grandfather.
To me it is incredible that I sit here in the prime of my life typing this blog with almost my entire life situated so far in between those two pictures. I wonder about the amazing things that will exist in the world when my niece is my age now, the things that she will see. I wonder if someday a long time from now some woman or man will type (speak?, think?) a log entry about images from the past. Maybe these images, undoubtedly freed from the material world like the one of my niece floating somewhere in cyberspace, will move him like these two pictures for just a moment taking him out of the moment to moment existence that he lives in and helping him to see that his entire existence is but a speck in the infinite continium of time and space that we live in. But, hopefully he'll know better than to let this realization make him feel small and insignificant, beacause he will understand that every decision he makes at every moment invariably and irreversably impacts the continium forever. Somehow the actions of that 50 year old man in 1938, now long dead, brought about this little wonderful creature that is probably keeping my poor sister up as I write this. . .
I'm gonna get to where I'm gonna end up,
Mo Mo Moses
Thursday, January 22, 2004
What do Moses and Madonna have in common?
Evidentally, we both want Wesley Clark to be the next President of the United States! That's right folks, according to this test thing sent to me by one of my a friend, I am a Wes Clark guy!!!***
Take the test yourself, simply answer the questions and see which presidential nominee suits you best!
http://www.selectsmart.com/PRESIDENT/president.php
*** This is not to be construed as an official endorsement. I, much like the Clintons, have not yet officially endorsed anyone.
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Evidentally, we both want Wesley Clark to be the next President of the United States! That's right folks, according to this test thing sent to me by one of my a friend, I am a Wes Clark guy!!!***
Take the test yourself, simply answer the questions and see which presidential nominee suits you best!
http://www.selectsmart.com/PRESIDENT/president.php
*** This is not to be construed as an official endorsement. I, much like the Clintons, have not yet officially endorsed anyone.
Wellness Tip: Don't be a Hero with that Hero
Do not, I repeat, do not, under any circumstances eat a double meat meatball hero acquired under dubious circumstances that has been sitting around for an hour or two immediately before trying to go to bed. If you feel a very strong urge to do so just understand that you will very likely lay down to go sleep and then experience, among other things, severe heartburn. You will then get up out of bed turn your computer on and log the wellness tip for your readers that has been eluding you. After that you will curse yourself, your omnipresent gluttonous urges and your erstwhile and ill begotten meatball hero. . .
Socratem audio dicentem, cibi condimentum essa famem, potionis sitim
My Karma tells me that you've been screwed again,
Moses Aton-ing for everything
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Do not, I repeat, do not, under any circumstances eat a double meat meatball hero acquired under dubious circumstances that has been sitting around for an hour or two immediately before trying to go to bed. If you feel a very strong urge to do so just understand that you will very likely lay down to go sleep and then experience, among other things, severe heartburn. You will then get up out of bed turn your computer on and log the wellness tip for your readers that has been eluding you. After that you will curse yourself, your omnipresent gluttonous urges and your erstwhile and ill begotten meatball hero. . .
Socratem audio dicentem, cibi condimentum essa famem, potionis sitim
My Karma tells me that you've been screwed again,
Moses Aton-ing for everything
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
My Ethical Dilemma at Subway
Late Wednesday, I found myself very hungry and decided that I would dine on a double meatball hero from Subway. I am not typically an enormous fan of Subway because I believe that there is way too much bread and not enough meat in the Subway sandwiches, so typically I avoid Subway. However occasionally I do get me a hankerin' for some Subway. So there I was on Wednesday night, hungry after a hard hour's work on my computer and so I took a little stroll down to the Subway.
OK, so I walk into subway wanting a meatball hero but once I get in there I am struck by the panoply of options. There is the Italian Sub, the BLT, the ham, the turkey and even new the new wrap option. OK, there I am overwhelmed by the range of when I am accosted by the little Indian woman I have come to know. I ask her to give me a second, she nods but then continues to stare at me. I ignore and continue to look over my options, after about a good three minutes I finally decide that I am going to go with the meatball hero after all. When I look down I see that the little Indian woman is gone and in her place is an Indian or perhaps Middle Eastern looking man who I have seen before. Suddenly faced with a different set of circumstances I freeze completely and begin to second guess my meatball hero decision again.
"Cheesesteak please" I hear myself say.
"Right away, sir", he responds politely, followed almost immediately with "What kind of bread?"
"Italian, oh wait man, do I want the meatball?" I say beginning to annoy myself and feeling like an indecisive teenage girl from Westchester.
"It's up to you sir" he responds.
"Well, which one is better?" I ask
"I don't know sir, it's up to you" he repeats.
"Well, I think that I will go with the meatball hero, double meat please"
"Cheese?" he asks
"Yes, provolone" I reply (Ed. note it actually doesn't matter which cheese you choose you really can't taste it over the meatball sauce and they give you so little, actually the whole Subway cheese charade is a pet peeve of mine)
"OK, sir"
"You don't prefer one to the other?" I ask.
"No, sir I have been working here for over a year and I never try this", His accent is unrecognizable.
"Why, you don't eat beef?" I ask assuming he's Hindu.
"No I am Muslim"
"So why can't you eat beef? You can eat beef, it's not haram" I respond using the Arabic word for forbidden. Immediately, his ears perk up and we begin a what turns into a 20 minute discussion about what is haram and what halal, Arabic for forbidden and permitted, respectively. He's clearly a strict textualist when it comes it to Koranic interpretation. I challenge him a few times and although he is very interested he is unmoved. I submit that smoking ought to interpreted as haram (forbidden) and he insists that it is not since the Koran doesn't expressly forbid it and because there is no hadith on point. We tacitly agree to disagree and move on to other semi related subjects like where I am from, where he is from and somehow we end up at a point where he is telling me that he never has sex. By this point I have lost interest in the conversation and am trying to calculate whether I should watch the TiVo'ed Curb Your Enthusiasm, Arliss or the end of the Knicks game when I get home. As he ringing me up I spot the Subway owner out of the corner of my eye. We know each other well, we've discussed his life and business ventures at length and he owns two Subways in my neighborhood. As I am about to say hello to him, I notice the Muslim man is handing me back my change. I notice immediately that he has not charged for the extra meat. I realize also that if I say anything about we are within earshot of the owner. Also the Muslim man is smiling at me as if to say, "Enjoy the free extra meat oh fellow interpreter (albeit more liberally) of the Holy Koran"
I begin to wonder, OK what's worse? Ripping off the owner of the dollar or busting the this minimum wage Muslim guy who in his mind is just giving a brother a break? There is no way for me to say anything without the owner overhearing, I don't want to get this guy in trouble but I don't want to be complicit in his little free meatballs to amateur Muslim scholars program. It occurs to me also that what seems like a little dollar discount to me is probably a big deal to this guy. Also I being to think about how the owner has told me repeatedly how narrow the profit margin is between rent, employee salary, franchise fees, etc. Ultimately I make the decision to walk away, I smile, thank the Muslim man and turn around and walk out.
I think that if I could do it over again that I would do the same thing, there really is as far as I am concerned no clear option. That jack ass Randy Cohen from the Times would no doubt wax philosophic about the categorical imperative, talk about what would happen in a society where all employees acted dishonestly etc. Look, in the end I allocated the loss to the bigger guy, that's the American way I think. It's also Robin Hood's philosophy and most of all I don't believe in being a snitch especially when some guy is doing you a solid. I'll have to guide a gaggle of my goony friends there sometime soon and try to make up for it in part. . .
As I am walking home I realize I am not even that hungry anymore.
Out here in the fields; I fight for my meals,
Moses
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Late Wednesday, I found myself very hungry and decided that I would dine on a double meatball hero from Subway. I am not typically an enormous fan of Subway because I believe that there is way too much bread and not enough meat in the Subway sandwiches, so typically I avoid Subway. However occasionally I do get me a hankerin' for some Subway. So there I was on Wednesday night, hungry after a hard hour's work on my computer and so I took a little stroll down to the Subway.
OK, so I walk into subway wanting a meatball hero but once I get in there I am struck by the panoply of options. There is the Italian Sub, the BLT, the ham, the turkey and even new the new wrap option. OK, there I am overwhelmed by the range of when I am accosted by the little Indian woman I have come to know. I ask her to give me a second, she nods but then continues to stare at me. I ignore and continue to look over my options, after about a good three minutes I finally decide that I am going to go with the meatball hero after all. When I look down I see that the little Indian woman is gone and in her place is an Indian or perhaps Middle Eastern looking man who I have seen before. Suddenly faced with a different set of circumstances I freeze completely and begin to second guess my meatball hero decision again.
"Cheesesteak please" I hear myself say.
"Right away, sir", he responds politely, followed almost immediately with "What kind of bread?"
"Italian, oh wait man, do I want the meatball?" I say beginning to annoy myself and feeling like an indecisive teenage girl from Westchester.
"It's up to you sir" he responds.
"Well, which one is better?" I ask
"I don't know sir, it's up to you" he repeats.
"Well, I think that I will go with the meatball hero, double meat please"
"Cheese?" he asks
"Yes, provolone" I reply (Ed. note it actually doesn't matter which cheese you choose you really can't taste it over the meatball sauce and they give you so little, actually the whole Subway cheese charade is a pet peeve of mine)
"OK, sir"
"You don't prefer one to the other?" I ask.
"No, sir I have been working here for over a year and I never try this", His accent is unrecognizable.
"Why, you don't eat beef?" I ask assuming he's Hindu.
"No I am Muslim"
"So why can't you eat beef? You can eat beef, it's not haram" I respond using the Arabic word for forbidden. Immediately, his ears perk up and we begin a what turns into a 20 minute discussion about what is haram and what halal, Arabic for forbidden and permitted, respectively. He's clearly a strict textualist when it comes it to Koranic interpretation. I challenge him a few times and although he is very interested he is unmoved. I submit that smoking ought to interpreted as haram (forbidden) and he insists that it is not since the Koran doesn't expressly forbid it and because there is no hadith on point. We tacitly agree to disagree and move on to other semi related subjects like where I am from, where he is from and somehow we end up at a point where he is telling me that he never has sex. By this point I have lost interest in the conversation and am trying to calculate whether I should watch the TiVo'ed Curb Your Enthusiasm, Arliss or the end of the Knicks game when I get home. As he ringing me up I spot the Subway owner out of the corner of my eye. We know each other well, we've discussed his life and business ventures at length and he owns two Subways in my neighborhood. As I am about to say hello to him, I notice the Muslim man is handing me back my change. I notice immediately that he has not charged for the extra meat. I realize also that if I say anything about we are within earshot of the owner. Also the Muslim man is smiling at me as if to say, "Enjoy the free extra meat oh fellow interpreter (albeit more liberally) of the Holy Koran"
I begin to wonder, OK what's worse? Ripping off the owner of the dollar or busting the this minimum wage Muslim guy who in his mind is just giving a brother a break? There is no way for me to say anything without the owner overhearing, I don't want to get this guy in trouble but I don't want to be complicit in his little free meatballs to amateur Muslim scholars program. It occurs to me also that what seems like a little dollar discount to me is probably a big deal to this guy. Also I being to think about how the owner has told me repeatedly how narrow the profit margin is between rent, employee salary, franchise fees, etc. Ultimately I make the decision to walk away, I smile, thank the Muslim man and turn around and walk out.
I think that if I could do it over again that I would do the same thing, there really is as far as I am concerned no clear option. That jack ass Randy Cohen from the Times would no doubt wax philosophic about the categorical imperative, talk about what would happen in a society where all employees acted dishonestly etc. Look, in the end I allocated the loss to the bigger guy, that's the American way I think. It's also Robin Hood's philosophy and most of all I don't believe in being a snitch especially when some guy is doing you a solid. I'll have to guide a gaggle of my goony friends there sometime soon and try to make up for it in part. . .
As I am walking home I realize I am not even that hungry anymore.
Out here in the fields; I fight for my meals,
Moses
Did anyone else think that Bush should be talking about something other than steroids and sports during the goddamned SOTU???????????????
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Some of my prospective readers have been skeptical and unsupportive of my newest endeavor. One of them is a certain friend of mine who I met in law school. I will not disclose his identity except to say that he is diminutive, Italian, ill tempered, ornery and engaged to a very sweet woman from Commack, LI. Actually, while on the subject of this particular bantam weight friend let me note here publicy that he has agreed that in the event of his untimely demise that I am entitled to receive his entire entertainment center - he specifically bequeathed his entertainment center to me and not to his identical twin brother by the way. At any rate, below is my response to his e-mail including his questions, I have labeled them to make this clearer:
Q: What is a Blog?
A: A blog (weB log) is basically a journal that is available on the web. The activity of updating a blog is "blogging" and someone who keeps a blog is a "blogger." Blogs are typically updated daily using software that allows people with little or no technical background to update and maintain the blog. Postings on a blog are almost always arranged in cronological order with the most recent additions featured most prominantly. (ed note: I cut and pasted the foregoing part)
Q: What compels one to write a Blog?
A: I do it as a public service to my readers because I believe that my life is most likely much more interesting than theirs.
Q: And what compels one to read a Blog?
A: Two things: First, as stated above my life is probably much more interesting than yours. Second, I offer interesting "wellness tips" that will most likely improve your health. In the future I intend to include further incentives to read my blog so stay tuned.
Q: What is the point of using a psuedonym when you tell people it's your Blog?
A: Many of my friends know that it is me who is writing my blog, but as my blog inevitably becomes more and more popular I want to be able to maintain my privacy.
Q: I'm very confused.
A: I can't help you any further. . .
I am posting this on my blog. . .
Nothing gets in my way not even locked doors,
Moses
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Q: What is a Blog?
A: A blog (weB log) is basically a journal that is available on the web. The activity of updating a blog is "blogging" and someone who keeps a blog is a "blogger." Blogs are typically updated daily using software that allows people with little or no technical background to update and maintain the blog. Postings on a blog are almost always arranged in cronological order with the most recent additions featured most prominantly. (ed note: I cut and pasted the foregoing part)
Q: What compels one to write a Blog?
A: I do it as a public service to my readers because I believe that my life is most likely much more interesting than theirs.
Q: And what compels one to read a Blog?
A: Two things: First, as stated above my life is probably much more interesting than yours. Second, I offer interesting "wellness tips" that will most likely improve your health. In the future I intend to include further incentives to read my blog so stay tuned.
Q: What is the point of using a psuedonym when you tell people it's your Blog?
A: Many of my friends know that it is me who is writing my blog, but as my blog inevitably becomes more and more popular I want to be able to maintain my privacy.
Q: I'm very confused.
A: I can't help you any further. . .
I am posting this on my blog. . .
Nothing gets in my way not even locked doors,
Moses
Wellness tip by Dr. Moses:
THE IMPORTANCE OF BATHING
Except for a few of my international readers I believe that most of you fully understand the importance of bathing in the macro sense. That is to say, you all shower. What I believe very few of you understand is bathing in the more specific sense, which is to say, literally: bathing. Or stated otherwise: TAKING A BATH.
A daily bath can add a lot to your life. I recommend taking your bath first thing in the morning. Grab your newspaper of choice fill up the tub with warm water and let Calgon take you away.
Stage One: Quiet Time
Your daily soak should be a time of meditation and reflection, you should be thinking of what you want to accomplish today. It can also be a time of prayer. As you lay naked immersed in water before God, you can say a little prayer and think of this as your daily baptism. But because this is a secular blog I don't want to push this idea too much, let's just call this quiet time.
Clear your mind as your body is treated to a nice soak.
Stage Two: Soak your Mind
After your period of reflection, you ought to pick up your newsaper and/or book and feed your mind. Now that you have had your quiet time it is time to to learn about what is going on in the world. Now let me note that although my paper of choice is the NY Times, because of it's format it is not well suited for reading during my morning soak. Therefore, if possible I prefer a newspaper in tabloid format, such as Newsday or the Daily News.
Note also, that earlier I said that you may want to take book in with you instead. I am proponent of an occasional news fast and I realize that many of you get your news online so there will be times when it is better to take in a book.
Stage Three: Hygeine
While I encourage shaving in the tub, I strongly urge you to keep all cleaning until Stage Four. While the bathwater does have healing properties it is not appropriate for intensive hygeine. Therefore after you are done with shaving your face or legs (or whatever you are into) I recommend that you then take care of all miscellaneous hygenic processes with the exception of the final cleaning process. That is, this is a perfect time to focus on plucking your eyebrows or giving yourself that facial apricot scrub or, again, whatever you are into.
Stage Four: The Shower
While I am an enormous proponent of the bath it is critical that one shower afterwards, otherwise it was all for naught! Therefore, when your bath is complete you must pull the plug and standup and shower. At this point it is now appropriate to get into full scrub down mode. You should now clean all over and don't forget to get behind your ears!
So there it is, no better way is there to start off everyday!
In fact I; I don't feel bad at all,
Moe Better Moses
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THE IMPORTANCE OF BATHING
Except for a few of my international readers I believe that most of you fully understand the importance of bathing in the macro sense. That is to say, you all shower. What I believe very few of you understand is bathing in the more specific sense, which is to say, literally: bathing. Or stated otherwise: TAKING A BATH.
A daily bath can add a lot to your life. I recommend taking your bath first thing in the morning. Grab your newspaper of choice fill up the tub with warm water and let Calgon take you away.
Stage One: Quiet Time
Your daily soak should be a time of meditation and reflection, you should be thinking of what you want to accomplish today. It can also be a time of prayer. As you lay naked immersed in water before God, you can say a little prayer and think of this as your daily baptism. But because this is a secular blog I don't want to push this idea too much, let's just call this quiet time.
Clear your mind as your body is treated to a nice soak.
Stage Two: Soak your Mind
After your period of reflection, you ought to pick up your newsaper and/or book and feed your mind. Now that you have had your quiet time it is time to to learn about what is going on in the world. Now let me note that although my paper of choice is the NY Times, because of it's format it is not well suited for reading during my morning soak. Therefore, if possible I prefer a newspaper in tabloid format, such as Newsday or the Daily News.
Note also, that earlier I said that you may want to take book in with you instead. I am proponent of an occasional news fast and I realize that many of you get your news online so there will be times when it is better to take in a book.
Stage Three: Hygeine
While I encourage shaving in the tub, I strongly urge you to keep all cleaning until Stage Four. While the bathwater does have healing properties it is not appropriate for intensive hygeine. Therefore after you are done with shaving your face or legs (or whatever you are into) I recommend that you then take care of all miscellaneous hygenic processes with the exception of the final cleaning process. That is, this is a perfect time to focus on plucking your eyebrows or giving yourself that facial apricot scrub or, again, whatever you are into.
Stage Four: The Shower
While I am an enormous proponent of the bath it is critical that one shower afterwards, otherwise it was all for naught! Therefore, when your bath is complete you must pull the plug and standup and shower. At this point it is now appropriate to get into full scrub down mode. You should now clean all over and don't forget to get behind your ears!
So there it is, no better way is there to start off everyday!
In fact I; I don't feel bad at all,
Moe Better Moses
So last night we went to the 92nd Street Y and heard Bob Costas interview Ken Burns. Ken Burns, as you may know, is the filmmaker behind the PBS documentaries The Civil War, Baseball and Jazz. He's quite an interesting fellow. Bob Costas is, of course, NBC's diminutive all purpose sports anchor and broadcaster. I have long admired both of these men and it was quite something to sit just 30 feet from them and listen to the interview.
Basically, Burns's deal is that he is a complete Americaphile (interesting: I don't think I've ever seen this word before and yet Francophile is all but ubiquitous). He is an eternal optimist and student of the human zeitgeist as manifested in American history. He is also a firm believer in the age old adage that "the kids today just don't care about history." I tend to think that every ge-ge-generation thinks this and I am not all that disturbed by it. At any rate, Burns had some interesting things to say about poetic license in filmaking: For example, he will sometimes show a picture of say the 1888 Cleveland Spiders while discussing the 1890 Spiders club, but will not show the dead from Appotomatox while discussing Shiloh, etc. When asked about him maybe exploring other "true American art forms" like comic book art he uncharacteristically sarcastically responded that he could also explore American quilt making.
Burns and Costas both seized on to clearly the most brilliant question of the night which was "Was there an injustice to the Negro Leagues, that the teams were forgotten after 'integration'? Do you think it would be a good to honor the Negro leagues today by perhaps naming a new after an old Negro League team?" asked by your dear narrator. Burns, predictably, answered that: yes tremendous injustice was done to the Negro leagues and that integration was bittersweet. Costas replied that he thought it would a great idea to name a team after an old Negro League team and even suggested that if MLB expands to Washington that the team could be named the Homestead Grays. He pointed out that the team would be a merchandising bonanza and that the team would have fans all over these United States. Interestingly, MLB's material greed may actually serve to, in very small part, help to repair a very serious injustice.
After the interview we approached Costas and spoke with him briefly, he was extremely friendly and approachable, much nicer I thought, than Mike Lupica who I have also met recently.
It was a very good night and I look forward to attending more events at 92nd Street Y.
I Can See For Miles,
Moses
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Basically, Burns's deal is that he is a complete Americaphile (interesting: I don't think I've ever seen this word before and yet Francophile is all but ubiquitous). He is an eternal optimist and student of the human zeitgeist as manifested in American history. He is also a firm believer in the age old adage that "the kids today just don't care about history." I tend to think that every ge-ge-generation thinks this and I am not all that disturbed by it. At any rate, Burns had some interesting things to say about poetic license in filmaking: For example, he will sometimes show a picture of say the 1888 Cleveland Spiders while discussing the 1890 Spiders club, but will not show the dead from Appotomatox while discussing Shiloh, etc. When asked about him maybe exploring other "true American art forms" like comic book art he uncharacteristically sarcastically responded that he could also explore American quilt making.
Burns and Costas both seized on to clearly the most brilliant question of the night which was "Was there an injustice to the Negro Leagues, that the teams were forgotten after 'integration'? Do you think it would be a good to honor the Negro leagues today by perhaps naming a new after an old Negro League team?" asked by your dear narrator. Burns, predictably, answered that: yes tremendous injustice was done to the Negro leagues and that integration was bittersweet. Costas replied that he thought it would a great idea to name a team after an old Negro League team and even suggested that if MLB expands to Washington that the team could be named the Homestead Grays. He pointed out that the team would be a merchandising bonanza and that the team would have fans all over these United States. Interestingly, MLB's material greed may actually serve to, in very small part, help to repair a very serious injustice.
After the interview we approached Costas and spoke with him briefly, he was extremely friendly and approachable, much nicer I thought, than Mike Lupica who I have also met recently.
It was a very good night and I look forward to attending more events at 92nd Street Y.
I Can See For Miles,
Moses
Tuesday, January 20, 2004
Captain's log, supplemental:
I cannot overemphasize the importance of having an over humidified apartment in the winter. Currently I have had my humidifier on high for the past three days and my window slightly cracked. This allows a nice cool breeze to float into the extremely moist apartment creating a cool humid atmosphere reminiscent of the Amazon in November. . .
I am breathing easy and feeling good. Looks like I am TiVo-ing the State of the Union as I am attending a Bob Costas-Ken Burns interview at the 92nd Street Y tonight.
You're so lucky I'm around,
Moe Moe
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I cannot overemphasize the importance of having an over humidified apartment in the winter. Currently I have had my humidifier on high for the past three days and my window slightly cracked. This allows a nice cool breeze to float into the extremely moist apartment creating a cool humid atmosphere reminiscent of the Amazon in November. . .
I am breathing easy and feeling good. Looks like I am TiVo-ing the State of the Union as I am attending a Bob Costas-Ken Burns interview at the 92nd Street Y tonight.
You're so lucky I'm around,
Moe Moe
Monday, January 19, 2004
This is the first ever Moses Aton blog. As I sit here on January 19, 2004, I am reading that John Kerry has won Iowa, the television set is blaring the second installation of the series Average Joe and I am pondering the result of the Superbowl in Houston only 13 days from now.
I should tell you a few things before you embark on what will be one of the most fruitful endeavors of your life. First my name is not really Moses Aton, it is merely a pseudonym to protect the innocent and the guilty. Secondly, I do not proofread these blogs or plan them out, they are merely my thoughts of the day, they are written completely extemporaneously. Third, I intend to put up a new post everyday, but I am sure that somedays I will not have the chance to do so. So with those few things in mind please enjoy. . .
While, I don't want to overemphasize the importance of Iowa I am surprised by the outcome. Kerry, a very early favorite, seemed dead in the water only a month ago. John Edwards, never seemed to have a real chance at all. And Howard the Dean seemingly had it all wrapped up months ago, with perhaps only Gephart to worry about!
Instead now we are left with a fractured field and, most likely, the end of Gephart's distinguished political career. Although she endorsed Clark, all us loyal Dems are left echoing a sentiment the Material Girl has no doubt expressed herself with countless times: We haven't had enough Dick. Please reconsider Mr. Gephart, perhaps a Senatorial run?
Speaking of Madonna what was that endorsement about? And does Clark still have a chance? Probably not, while winning Iowa is not necessary history shows us that at least making a showing in Iowa is necessary. I have to play Donald Trump here: General, you're fired. (Luckily having been fired by Bill Clinton already, the General may be used to this!)
On the subject of Donald Trump and because I mentioned it in the opening, let me take a moment to discuss this new reality television phenomenon. Reality television truly took off with my generation with MTV's erstwhile series "The Real World". You will probably recall that the Real World pitted several coed twenty somethings in nice digs in various cities like San Fran, NYC and Miami. The series would then follow the group as they inevitably split into factions, developed romances and just generally got on each other's nerves. But the modern reality show has gone much further, as opposed to simply exploiting our voyeuristic sides, current reality attempts to completely control reality. No longer is it enough to simply peer on people, and enjoy watching their lives unfold, now every show features the obligatory surprise twist that leaves the participants shocked and dismayed. For example tonight on the Average Joe II, the geeky man child group was shocked and horrified to learn that they would now be competing for the woman not only with their fellow geeks, but also with a group of ripped hunks. This sort of schadenfreude has become downright par for the course. America eagerly awaits such a turn of events every week and, in fact, this twist is the focus of the entire advertising campaign for the show.
Why is it that we are so titillated by such twists? Why does the average Joe tune in every week just to watch the Average Joe get so royally screwed? Early advertising and episodes featured the gorgeous model disappointed and disgusted by the mutants assembled for her. Not surprisingly audiences seemed amused by this phenomenon, after all what average Joe doesn't have some hidden resentment towards a beautiful model? Besides basic sour grapes philosophy, the average Joe will undoubtedly simply resent the model for being beautiful. So then question remains what is it that makes the average Joe so eager to see basically a reflection of himself get screwed?
Could it be a sense of justice/guilt? The average American Joe is immediately distinguishable from the pretty boy by the conspicuous absence of a six pack in his hand and the notable presence of one immediately under his ample pecs. In fact, a very common Average Joe archetype is the fat guy. Can it be that our eagerness is in part is an outward cathartic guffaw at ourselves?
Perhaps, we like seeing the fat guy get screwed because we think he deserves it. Maybe our frustration is what fuels what is essentially our desire to turn on the television and watch people get played.
It's been going on for years you might say. Remember Candid Camera? But I would submit that the ruses have become more nefarious, that what is at stake is deeper. Average Joe flirts with deep seated societal issues, like self image and many people almost obsessive focus on finding a significant other. Next time you are watching a reality show and waiting for an Average Joe to get screwed, ask yourself why? Or better yet, flip to a football game or something.
And speaking football games, man did the Patriots lay a hurting on Peyton and the boys. It seems like it may be a bit premature to anoint Peyton the next Joe Montana after all. Perhaps, Manning's performance at Arrowhead was a less a function of his brilliant football mind and more a function of Kansas City's complete lack of any sort of defense. At any rate Manning accomplished what he needed to this post season. Notably, that he could win in the postseason and not only did he win a game - he won two! Including one on the road. Like I said, it's a bit early to start hanging the highest accolades on this guy, but it'd be foolish not to keep your eye on him, because this postseason was probably just a glimpse of what's in store.
Then again, you may have thought that about McNabb a few years back. And if you had you'd be wrong! Philly is only one NFC Championship loss away from earning the title "The Junior Bills". I was rooting hard for Philly as I would have liked nothing better than to see Rush really have to eat his words about McNabb only getting props because he's a brother (Rush is one fat guy that I just straight up hate, no Average Joe misdirected self hatred in this case!). What a loser.
Anyway enough about losers, it's time to look ahead. Right now I am betting the favorite: I say Patriots cover and take the under. But hey everyone has been overlooking the Panthers all and I have two weeks to change my mind.
I hope you've enjoyed my first blog and please come back and visit me everyday.
I hope I die before I get old,
Moses
I should tell you a few things before you embark on what will be one of the most fruitful endeavors of your life. First my name is not really Moses Aton, it is merely a pseudonym to protect the innocent and the guilty. Secondly, I do not proofread these blogs or plan them out, they are merely my thoughts of the day, they are written completely extemporaneously. Third, I intend to put up a new post everyday, but I am sure that somedays I will not have the chance to do so. So with those few things in mind please enjoy. . .
While, I don't want to overemphasize the importance of Iowa I am surprised by the outcome. Kerry, a very early favorite, seemed dead in the water only a month ago. John Edwards, never seemed to have a real chance at all. And Howard the Dean seemingly had it all wrapped up months ago, with perhaps only Gephart to worry about!
Instead now we are left with a fractured field and, most likely, the end of Gephart's distinguished political career. Although she endorsed Clark, all us loyal Dems are left echoing a sentiment the Material Girl has no doubt expressed herself with countless times: We haven't had enough Dick. Please reconsider Mr. Gephart, perhaps a Senatorial run?
Speaking of Madonna what was that endorsement about? And does Clark still have a chance? Probably not, while winning Iowa is not necessary history shows us that at least making a showing in Iowa is necessary. I have to play Donald Trump here: General, you're fired. (Luckily having been fired by Bill Clinton already, the General may be used to this!)
On the subject of Donald Trump and because I mentioned it in the opening, let me take a moment to discuss this new reality television phenomenon. Reality television truly took off with my generation with MTV's erstwhile series "The Real World". You will probably recall that the Real World pitted several coed twenty somethings in nice digs in various cities like San Fran, NYC and Miami. The series would then follow the group as they inevitably split into factions, developed romances and just generally got on each other's nerves. But the modern reality show has gone much further, as opposed to simply exploiting our voyeuristic sides, current reality attempts to completely control reality. No longer is it enough to simply peer on people, and enjoy watching their lives unfold, now every show features the obligatory surprise twist that leaves the participants shocked and dismayed. For example tonight on the Average Joe II, the geeky man child group was shocked and horrified to learn that they would now be competing for the woman not only with their fellow geeks, but also with a group of ripped hunks. This sort of schadenfreude has become downright par for the course. America eagerly awaits such a turn of events every week and, in fact, this twist is the focus of the entire advertising campaign for the show.
Why is it that we are so titillated by such twists? Why does the average Joe tune in every week just to watch the Average Joe get so royally screwed? Early advertising and episodes featured the gorgeous model disappointed and disgusted by the mutants assembled for her. Not surprisingly audiences seemed amused by this phenomenon, after all what average Joe doesn't have some hidden resentment towards a beautiful model? Besides basic sour grapes philosophy, the average Joe will undoubtedly simply resent the model for being beautiful. So then question remains what is it that makes the average Joe so eager to see basically a reflection of himself get screwed?
Could it be a sense of justice/guilt? The average American Joe is immediately distinguishable from the pretty boy by the conspicuous absence of a six pack in his hand and the notable presence of one immediately under his ample pecs. In fact, a very common Average Joe archetype is the fat guy. Can it be that our eagerness is in part is an outward cathartic guffaw at ourselves?
Perhaps, we like seeing the fat guy get screwed because we think he deserves it. Maybe our frustration is what fuels what is essentially our desire to turn on the television and watch people get played.
It's been going on for years you might say. Remember Candid Camera? But I would submit that the ruses have become more nefarious, that what is at stake is deeper. Average Joe flirts with deep seated societal issues, like self image and many people almost obsessive focus on finding a significant other. Next time you are watching a reality show and waiting for an Average Joe to get screwed, ask yourself why? Or better yet, flip to a football game or something.
And speaking football games, man did the Patriots lay a hurting on Peyton and the boys. It seems like it may be a bit premature to anoint Peyton the next Joe Montana after all. Perhaps, Manning's performance at Arrowhead was a less a function of his brilliant football mind and more a function of Kansas City's complete lack of any sort of defense. At any rate Manning accomplished what he needed to this post season. Notably, that he could win in the postseason and not only did he win a game - he won two! Including one on the road. Like I said, it's a bit early to start hanging the highest accolades on this guy, but it'd be foolish not to keep your eye on him, because this postseason was probably just a glimpse of what's in store.
Then again, you may have thought that about McNabb a few years back. And if you had you'd be wrong! Philly is only one NFC Championship loss away from earning the title "The Junior Bills". I was rooting hard for Philly as I would have liked nothing better than to see Rush really have to eat his words about McNabb only getting props because he's a brother (Rush is one fat guy that I just straight up hate, no Average Joe misdirected self hatred in this case!). What a loser.
Anyway enough about losers, it's time to look ahead. Right now I am betting the favorite: I say Patriots cover and take the under. But hey everyone has been overlooking the Panthers all and I have two weeks to change my mind.
I hope you've enjoyed my first blog and please come back and visit me everyday.
I hope I die before I get old,
Moses
