7/18/12
Softball: Musings on Etiology as a Form of Cognitive Weed
Dear People,
My team crushed Chris Fure's, 25-18, in one of those unfortunate displays of aerobic excellence which starkly exposes the Precarious Intestinal Fortitude of Leadership Itself (the Pifoli, if you will, which, in one of the great ironies of cross-generational translation, is late-Medieval Italian for “failure from the top”). The point is that the Furinator's contingent still had a solid 16-16 lead going into the 8th, in large part thanks to Mateo's staggering back-to-back homeruns to the tapir-infested bush of deep center-right. Yet when Steve Bedrick went down with a pulled clamstring, Chris suddenly found himself without a primary pitcher, and thus deep in the throes of calamitous crisis management. Alas, the resulting pifoli was both rank and unsightly.
Perhaps Chris' first clanger was having Mike Davey replace Steve, since as we all know, Mikie is a well-marbled power-slugging outfielder by both birth and temperament, and sure enough, my side exploited his callow moundage with a ferocious 12-hit, 7-run 8th-inning shellacking. Maya's rally-triggering triple to the same tapirian grounds where Mateo had struck before was now a towering symbol of all that was right with the world that day, and as Chris' team floundered about like a beached Idaho Sperm Whale, I found myself wondering where Chris' initial choice to use Mikie came from, or more specifically, whether it was simply a random decision that had just appeared from nothing, as in “nothing.”
I mention this because Chris, Kira, Kora and I had earlier attended a hallucinatory Cal symposium on the discovery of the Higgs Boson, and while I think we all found ourselves enthralled by the sheer matter-creating pulchritude of this newly confirmed totally kickass subatomic particle, I must confess that the cosmological implications of her tiny little existence has left me feeling queasy. For as I understand it, good 'ol Higgie is powerful new evidence that the universe appeared from nothing, as in “nothing.” Yet I've always assumed that the universe has just always been, and if I now have to shift my ontological perspective from one of soothing temporal infinity to spontaneous quantum creation, I fear that I may never understand who we are, where we really come from, and why, week after week, we as a people continue to chase these little yellow orbs around a mystical Euclidean box, as if there were some tacit justification for our communally psychotic behavior. Thankfully, mystery rocks, and therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning….Raymond
7/20/12
Softball: Transparent
Dear People,
There will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, and as of now, there are still four slots left.
Please bring $4 for the field, which for this week only includes my personal pledge to you to release my complete college transcripts, prison records, web browsing history, tax returns and 12 full years of fully certified birth certificates, all in one fell bureaucratically preemptive swoop….Ray 845-7552
BACK