Stop them, before they commentate again
To: The Blogosphere
From: N.Z. Bear
Subject: Intervention for Welch
A troubling development has come to our attention here at TTLB, as I’m sure it has to many of our fellow citizens of the Blogosphere. Two previously articulate, intelligent bloggers have developed a most disturbing ailment.
They have begun talking about sports.A lot.
A mind is a terrible thing to waste; particularly when it’s wasted in such a clearly self-destructive manner. Observe, if you will, the following from Mr. Welch’s log (quoting Mr. Layne, so we can indict both of them for this particular offense):
“LA came back with some fucking energy and balls. Double-teamed the shit out of Moby, bummed out the Turk, bummed out Webber & the Serb. Defense was mostly terrific. Kobe started doing that thing he does, Shaq made four crucial free throws in a row, Milosevic missed a crucial free throw with a minute left, and you saw the rest…Motherfucking Horry. Motherfucker.”
I will give Mr. Layne the benefit of the doubt and grant him, for the moment, that the words involved in that convoluted mess of invective appeared to derive from what we commonly refer to as the English language. But the semantic content of the statement is an absolute mystery to me. He seems to be talking about a well-known electronica artist doing something nasty to Slobodon Milosovich, while avoiding hostilities with Istanbul, but I’m not entirely sure.
Another example: take this shining bit of prose from the previously articulate Mr. Layne:
“That guy who looks like Moby and that guy who looks like Webber, they were good…. .Memo to Phil: When Rick Fox is having a bad night, just get him out of there. Don’t be shy about using Shaw and Hunter. That third-quarter strategy? It sucked the big ass tonight. Sometimes you gotta drop that Zen Yoda shit and respond, eh?
Phil? Hunter? Zen Yoda? I kinda grok the last part there, but I just can’t comprende the rest of this gobbledygook.
Admittedly, I grant you, this appears to be primarily a problem with Mr. Layne, with Mr. Welch participating in somewhat of an “enabler” role. But I fear for both of them: truly, I do.
So I beg each and every one of you, citizens of the Blogosphere: lend Mr. Welch and Mr. Layne a hand in their time of need. Show them that there is a world inside their computer monitors that does not involve sweaty (heterosexual) men slapping each other on the ass and running swiftly back and forth, back and forth down a well-varnished parquet floor. The life of the mind is in here, in the blogosphere, where such mundane concerns as athletics, exercise, and maintaining a heart rate with a vague possibility of precluding a coronary before the age of 40 are irrelevant. Ideas are the thing!
We must rescue our errant sheep, and bring them back to the geeky flock. I beg of you all, have mercy on these poor lost souls, and show them the way back to true bloggerly happiness!