What could possibly be funnier than a holocaust-denying bishop exchanging blows with an Argentinian reporter?
I can think of many things.
But in the end, what is making my side split today is the announcement that Condoleezza Rice (what’s the second “z” for anyway?) has signed a book deal with Crown Publishers to write three — count ’em three — books detailing her tenure in the White House as well as delving into her oh-so-saucy personal life.
Crown issued this statement:
“Rice will combine candid narrative and acute analysis to tell the story
of her time in the White House and as America’s top diplomat, and her
role in protecting American security and shaping foreign policy during
the extraordinary period from 2001-2009.”
Extraordinary? You betchya! That was an extraordinary, poorly structured sentence!
When Crown Publishers says “candid”, what they really mean is “bullhickey” and when Crown Publishers says “acute analysis” what they really mean is “a cute anal cyst”.
I am going on record with that.
Ah yes, the moment we have all been waiting for, my friends: the inevitable onslaught of uninteresting, embellished memoirs (see James Frey) from Bush administration cadres who would be much better off hiding under that blanket of destitution they collectively weaved over those eight long years.
Dick Cheney’s memoir: I Screwed Over My Own Country and Got Away with It
Donald Rumsfeld’s memoir: Blowing Up People Is Fun
Dubya’s memoir: I Am Smarter than a Fifth Grader Because I Am Way More Educationified
I suspect these tell-alls will not tell all and that they will all be as candid and truthful as an Alex Rodriguez/Katie Couric interview.
If you want the truth, read the battery of explicit facts spewed by one Jose Canseco. He seems to be the one with all the info and up to this point, he has been the most accurate when disclosing the inner workings of a poorly policed administration.
Speaking of good stuff, I am and always have been a reader (how else do you think I became so intelligent?) and though I enjoy some good fiction every now and then, my true passion is reading about real life. These days I can be found reading Jane Heller’s Confessions of a She-Fan. My busy schedule of Cub fan hounding and John Mozeliak thrashing has allowed me to only read a little bit each day, but I can honestly say that I am thoroughly enjoying it.
And since we are all about telling the truth here at RSBS, I am not going to withhold the fact that while reading Jane’s book during my commutes on the Chicago Transit Authority, I do my absolute best to hide the chick-lit-esque cover boasting a female fan donning a Yankee cap, looking up at an invisible monster whom I can only assume is Theo Epstein. The cover lady’s eyes are dreamy. She’s definitely into me. But I still force myself to cover it up. I live in Chicago after all. Like the rest of the blue collar cities, we hate ‘dem Yankees… don’t get me wrong, the book is great and all…
Just remember: I have an image to uphold.
Luckily, my stealth allows me to take in Confessions and really enjoy it. And while I may not have the desire to date a Yankee, as author Jane Heller once did, I sure would not mind dating some of the Yankees’ leftovers.
Believe me, that would be way more interesting than any Condoleezza Rice book.
So go ahead. Throw the book at me; just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Mr. Lung. Jeffery, if I may. It seems sad to me that I have to use all these electrons to explain to you the elementary literary technique of hyperbole but unfortunately, it appears this lesson in remedial form is necessary. Hyperbole, as I’m sure you once knew, is the technique by which one makes a point by exaggerating to a ridiculous degree. This is by no means a technical definition but it should be one which triggers those neurons you once used to use so well.
Now, why is this important? Quite simply because it is a method used quite often in all matters of discourse, especially in the arenas of sports and politics. When GW Bush says that electing Democrats to office means the terrorists have won, he doesn’t really mean that the terrorists will win because Nancy Pelosi is now the Speaker of the House. He’s using hyperbole to make a point. Similarly, when I say that Mark McGwire is flexed up steroid freak who single handedly ruined the game of baseball, I don’t really mean that Big Mac destroyed major league baseball. I’m just making a point.
To extrapolate further on this point, when I compare the entire NL to gay p0rn, I’m not really saying they’re making gay p0rn over there (except in the case of Kazuhito Tadano. Although, to be fair, he is actually in the Indians organization). And I actually agree with you that having the pitcher bat makes for a much more strategic game than does the DH. But baseball, like all sports, is based on making money. And fans, especially new ones and for better or for worse, are much more willing to pay money to see home runs than they are to see drawn out pitchers duels. Do you like the new Busch Stadium? Do you think it would have been built if the Cards would have had Greg Maddux instead of McGwire? Yeah, I think not.
So, here’s what I’ll say. I appreciate now that your initial filibuster question was a rhetorical question. And you can now appreciate the hyperbole that ensued. This way we both embrace our use of literary technique and move on to more important issues. Like, when are the Tigers going to win a freakin’ game? Seriously, this is just embarrassing. But, more on that later.
After a long week of working for the man, trying to keep democracy safe and available to billions of people around the world, I hoped to come back to my safe place, my happy place. That would be the warm cocoon of Tigers baseball and the blog I maintain with my good friend, Mr. Jeffrey Lung. But, you can imagine my horror when instead I found that my “good friend” had thrown me under the bus while the Tigers managed to open the season getting swept at the hands of the mighty Kansas City Royals. I mean, c’mon, really? Is this what’s waiting for me?
But, it’s all good because Dontrelle Willis, after his godawful spring training, is throwing a no-no through five……..and now the bullpen has given it away. There’s only one answer. God hates me.
However, apparently not as much as Nat’s fans hate GW Bush. I mean, that’s gotta hurt. Perhaps not as much as your friend saying:
“Allen has enough time to watch American Idol but he can’t write a post and respond to the fact that he’s not a real Tigers fan or that his MLB/NFL manager/coach comparison was blasphemous or that he’s just simply retarded?”
But, it’s still gotta hurt.
Anyway, despite the apparent loss of love, I’d like to point out for the record that I am still here and when I’m not advancing US foreign policy (as opposed to shilling for the Chinese), I will be advancing Red State Blue State baseball policy. The revolution is coming and it will be wearing the old English “D”.