Two Major items
1) The Spurs lost, sending the series to a nail-biting game seven. Which they will surely lose. At home.
Duncan looks like he needs to take a nice, long nap and listen to some self-affirmation tapes. Ginobili is rattled, but keeps pouring it on. And I'm seeing a lot of Barry, and I'm not sure why. Mohammad has been his reliable self, if not stellar. Big-Shot Bob was sort of shut down tonight as well.
The Spurs' 3-point percentage has been pretty poor, but they keep firing away. In addition, they seem hell bent on driving into the lane. Which is kind of nuts, because the Pistons' defense gets a turn-over (without a foul, I might add) each time they try this. Spurs need to learn to shoot from the perimeter, play more solid D, and... for God's sake, REBOUND. I know those ankles are killing you, Tim, but your job is to hop up and grab the ball, not let some dude named "Chauncey" take the ball away from you.
2) For those of you involved in the kerfuffle going on in the comments section, knock it off.
I will seriously turn this car around and we'll all go home. Or at least shut down comments.
I want an apology out of everybody.
Now.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
THE REAL WORLD: AUSTIN
"It'll be really weird to see myself drunk. But I guess we'll all learn something about ourselves."
So it's time for another season of MTV's hit "reality" show, The Real World (a name which has lost all meaning since the show's original, much more idealistic inception). As The League recalls, The Real World was originally created to fill the heads of cotton-headed MTV viewers with a glimpse of life in NYC, but, more specifically, to showcase the trials and tribulations of leaving home and trying to make it in the big city.
This was an era of the show in which the cast memebers were defined by what they did, not whom they did. Someone could, in this early stage, be "the actor guy" or "the musician guy". Cast members were pulled in from all points of the country with big city aspirations, and, I THINK the point was to show folks getting away from their comfort zone and sort of dealing with the mish-mash of personalities and ideas that one faces in "The Real World". Only 24/7 and in a swank loft.
I'm not sure they actually succeeded, but the show did prove Americans love to voyeuristically watch other people doing the exact same stuff they could do if they weren't watching the program at that same moment.
Well, it's God-knows how many seasons later, and The Real World is now subtitled Pretty Drunk Exhibitionist Mental Midgets You Might See "Doin' It". No longer are the cast members asked to, or even really encouraged to, leave the house. Instead, the program fills a house with booze, adds a hot tub, and casts people who are nuts for the sex and insist they "don't want nobody gittin' all up in (their) face". It's a beautiful, beautiful level of simplicity that has taken full advantage of the Gen Y belief in self-entitlement and instant celebrity. After all, there is absolutely nothing special about the cast members. Seriously. Not a damn thing aside from an over extended ego and lack of foresight regarding covering camera lenses when having sex.
So the new season of The Real World takes place in The League's professed hometown of Austin, TX.
Being Austin, apparently not everyone took kindly to folks making a scene and invading their turf.
To add insult to injury, and fueling my dislike of UT's Paul Stekler (which began when he told me to my face he didn't care if I could graduate), Stekler offered the Real World cast a job.
To keep the cast from slacking, "The Real World" puts the kids to work . . . sort of.
In Austin, filmmaker and University of Texas film professor Paul Stekler ("Last Man Standing") was recruited to help the kids make a mini-documentary during the South by Southwest Music Festival in March.
Initially Stekler thought it was "a pretty weird offer." But then he decided it could be good publicity for UT. The graduate students who trained the cast — P.J. Raval, Jenn Garrison and David Hartstein — were paid. Stekler's time was covered by a contribution (undisclosed amount) to the UT film department.
You know, it's reasons like this that UT RTF calls me and calls me and I won't give them any money. I remember how much I had to bust my ass to even get into a class where I could have done a project like this. Apparently I should have been greasing Steckler's palm.
I might watch an episode or two of the Austin-based series, but it's going to be tough to take the mouth-breathers of the show's cast seeing Austin as nothing more than a huge bar while the producers angle to make the show hip enough for their soulless LA-based bosses.
Ah, well. The League is getting old and grumpy.
"It'll be really weird to see myself drunk. But I guess we'll all learn something about ourselves."
So it's time for another season of MTV's hit "reality" show, The Real World (a name which has lost all meaning since the show's original, much more idealistic inception). As The League recalls, The Real World was originally created to fill the heads of cotton-headed MTV viewers with a glimpse of life in NYC, but, more specifically, to showcase the trials and tribulations of leaving home and trying to make it in the big city.
This was an era of the show in which the cast memebers were defined by what they did, not whom they did. Someone could, in this early stage, be "the actor guy" or "the musician guy". Cast members were pulled in from all points of the country with big city aspirations, and, I THINK the point was to show folks getting away from their comfort zone and sort of dealing with the mish-mash of personalities and ideas that one faces in "The Real World". Only 24/7 and in a swank loft.
I'm not sure they actually succeeded, but the show did prove Americans love to voyeuristically watch other people doing the exact same stuff they could do if they weren't watching the program at that same moment.
Well, it's God-knows how many seasons later, and The Real World is now subtitled Pretty Drunk Exhibitionist Mental Midgets You Might See "Doin' It". No longer are the cast members asked to, or even really encouraged to, leave the house. Instead, the program fills a house with booze, adds a hot tub, and casts people who are nuts for the sex and insist they "don't want nobody gittin' all up in (their) face". It's a beautiful, beautiful level of simplicity that has taken full advantage of the Gen Y belief in self-entitlement and instant celebrity. After all, there is absolutely nothing special about the cast members. Seriously. Not a damn thing aside from an over extended ego and lack of foresight regarding covering camera lenses when having sex.
So the new season of The Real World takes place in The League's professed hometown of Austin, TX.
Being Austin, apparently not everyone took kindly to folks making a scene and invading their turf.
To add insult to injury, and fueling my dislike of UT's Paul Stekler (which began when he told me to my face he didn't care if I could graduate), Stekler offered the Real World cast a job.
To keep the cast from slacking, "The Real World" puts the kids to work . . . sort of.
In Austin, filmmaker and University of Texas film professor Paul Stekler ("Last Man Standing") was recruited to help the kids make a mini-documentary during the South by Southwest Music Festival in March.
Initially Stekler thought it was "a pretty weird offer." But then he decided it could be good publicity for UT. The graduate students who trained the cast — P.J. Raval, Jenn Garrison and David Hartstein — were paid. Stekler's time was covered by a contribution (undisclosed amount) to the UT film department.
You know, it's reasons like this that UT RTF calls me and calls me and I won't give them any money. I remember how much I had to bust my ass to even get into a class where I could have done a project like this. Apparently I should have been greasing Steckler's palm.
I might watch an episode or two of the Austin-based series, but it's going to be tough to take the mouth-breathers of the show's cast seeing Austin as nothing more than a huge bar while the producers angle to make the show hip enough for their soulless LA-based bosses.
Ah, well. The League is getting old and grumpy.
Monday, June 20, 2005
So long, Jake.
Jake Pickle, former U.S. Rep from the Great State of Texas, has passed away. Pickle represented the Central Texas area.
Jake Pickle, former U.S. Rep from the Great State of Texas, has passed away. Pickle represented the Central Texas area.
Howdy, Leaguers
Well, this weekend was nice and quiet. Some work stuff reared it's ugly head, but I'm trying to remain calm about it. I am sure it will be awful enough on Monday that there's no use getting my red trunks in a bunch right now.
We've had some changes here at League HQ regarding scheduling, and I am afraid the blog here has been the top item to suffer. Basically, if Jamie is awake at night, it looks like I'm less likely to rant for pages at a time.
So there may be fewer posts than normal until all settles back into it's usual pattern.
Heads up as, not this week, but the following week... The League is going on a much-needed (but probably not deserved) break. We're headed to sunny Cook, Minnesota for a few days of bobbing about in a boat and failing to catch any fish. Also, I hope to make some headway in teh book I began reading en route to Vegas, Theodore Rex. Jim has suggested I read "The Historian." Perhaps I shall, just not until I finish this whopper of a biography.
Perhaps The League shall take some vacationy pictures for your amusement.
I also spent a lot of time this weekend catching up on comics I had fallen behind in my reading. I have to say, the new creative teams on the Superman books are doing a great job, with Rucka's Adventures of Superman (pencils by Kerschl) leading the pack. It'd be great if Rucka could stay on for another full two years, but i doubt we'll be that lucky. Gail Simone is currently writing Action Comics with art by John "Man of Steel" Byrne on pencils.
JLA is currently tackling some of the hanging threads from Identity Crisis. Geoff Johns is on writing chores with a fellow who writes for the TV program The OC. This same OC guy is writing Superman, btw, and it's been very good thus far...
DC is killing my wallet.
The Seven Soldiers of Victory limited series are each great, and are weaving a gigantic tapestry of multi-aspect story-telling.
Meanwhile, the limited series tied to Countdown to Infinite Crisis are all turning out to be extremely readable in their own right.
I'll be writing a column on the benefits of massive cross-overs at some point this week, because, darn it... too many people are down on these things. The League just dislikes them when they're done poorly. More on that later as time permits.
In other League news, The Spurs botched a possible last second clincher in regulation to go into overtime and pull out a completely different last second clincher, putting them up 3-2 in the best of 4 series. And they're headed home. This whole thing could be over by Tuesday with the the Spurs having a trophy to match the trophies from 1999 and 2003.
But, man, I really like this Pistons team. They're really, really good. I can't figure out how the Spurs beat them tonight at all. Oh, yeah, I do. Robert Horry. The man's experience and cool head won the night when Duncan looked like a scared little girl.
Well, this weekend was nice and quiet. Some work stuff reared it's ugly head, but I'm trying to remain calm about it. I am sure it will be awful enough on Monday that there's no use getting my red trunks in a bunch right now.
We've had some changes here at League HQ regarding scheduling, and I am afraid the blog here has been the top item to suffer. Basically, if Jamie is awake at night, it looks like I'm less likely to rant for pages at a time.
So there may be fewer posts than normal until all settles back into it's usual pattern.
Heads up as, not this week, but the following week... The League is going on a much-needed (but probably not deserved) break. We're headed to sunny Cook, Minnesota for a few days of bobbing about in a boat and failing to catch any fish. Also, I hope to make some headway in teh book I began reading en route to Vegas, Theodore Rex. Jim has suggested I read "The Historian." Perhaps I shall, just not until I finish this whopper of a biography.
Perhaps The League shall take some vacationy pictures for your amusement.
I also spent a lot of time this weekend catching up on comics I had fallen behind in my reading. I have to say, the new creative teams on the Superman books are doing a great job, with Rucka's Adventures of Superman (pencils by Kerschl) leading the pack. It'd be great if Rucka could stay on for another full two years, but i doubt we'll be that lucky. Gail Simone is currently writing Action Comics with art by John "Man of Steel" Byrne on pencils.
JLA is currently tackling some of the hanging threads from Identity Crisis. Geoff Johns is on writing chores with a fellow who writes for the TV program The OC. This same OC guy is writing Superman, btw, and it's been very good thus far...
DC is killing my wallet.
The Seven Soldiers of Victory limited series are each great, and are weaving a gigantic tapestry of multi-aspect story-telling.
Meanwhile, the limited series tied to Countdown to Infinite Crisis are all turning out to be extremely readable in their own right.
I'll be writing a column on the benefits of massive cross-overs at some point this week, because, darn it... too many people are down on these things. The League just dislikes them when they're done poorly. More on that later as time permits.
In other League news, The Spurs botched a possible last second clincher in regulation to go into overtime and pull out a completely different last second clincher, putting them up 3-2 in the best of 4 series. And they're headed home. This whole thing could be over by Tuesday with the the Spurs having a trophy to match the trophies from 1999 and 2003.
But, man, I really like this Pistons team. They're really, really good. I can't figure out how the Spurs beat them tonight at all. Oh, yeah, I do. Robert Horry. The man's experience and cool head won the night when Duncan looked like a scared little girl.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)