Tuesday, October 09, 2007

The Enemy Lends His Support (And Suffers Some Existential Angst)

I sat down here at the old keyboard, perfectly intent on ranting about how ridiculous George Steinbrenner is for even contemplating the firing of Joe Torre. Don't get me wrong, as a life-long Yankee hater, it would be a good thing for me. Torre is an excellent manager, and the Yanks would be hard pressed to find an equal replacement. However, the mere fact that an owner is public threatening to fire a manager who has won four Championships and been to the playoffs twelve times in the past twelve years is simply disgusting to me. That's the short version of what I wanted to say.

When I logged on to Blogger, I found a link to Post Secret, which I have visited before. I meandered over there (as we all have a tendency to do when we are faced with the universe-like infiniteness of the internets), and got a bit lost. I got to thinking of all the little dramas that are being lived in the world right now. All the deviousness and joy. All the betrayal and communion. I began to think of the timbre of other lives, and then I began to think of the lives that I might have lived. That ever happened to you?

I guess that's why I love reading and writing so much. I can experience and create so many different realities to live in for a little bit of time. Escapist? You bet your ass. Have you read the newspaper lately? Milk has doubled in price since 2004, and highly qualified supervisors are losing their jobs because some spoiled rich dude can't buy himself some esteem.


comoprozac said...

I'm with you on the escapism.

Anonymous said...

So many baseball statistics, so little time. You know that isht's like gold to me.

Speaking of meandering, I of course was led by my sixth (fashionista) sense to the cleverly-titled "dressed to the nines" page that showcases the history of baseball uniforms.

Realizing I was drifting into escapism, I returned to reading CentStand - only to be directed to read about...escapism.

Does that somehow make me a nihilist escapist?

(That probably isn't clever like I'd hoped; it just came to me and I thought it sounded good.)

Forget it. Everything is pointless. I'm going into the universe-like infiniteness of the internets to shop for shoes. Right after I watch a few episodes of Arrested Development.