Fall Any Harder

Tom Brady has a passer rating of 29.2 right now, which would be the second-worst ever for him in 294 career games. Only worse is that 31-0 loss to Bills in 2003 opener, 0 TDs, 4 INTs. And yes, Patriots somehow went 14-2 and won the Super Bowl that year.

— Greg Auman (@gregauman) November 9, 2020

I do not want to hear from Bruce Arians about not being able to defend "both sides" on the line of scrimmage, and all these gleeful statistics sportswriters like Auman can recite with dispassion. What do I know about manipulating all this data for a grid iron tale evocative of Sinclair Lewis'  Elmer Gantry? Brady's humiliation Sunday evening might inspire me to try, however, because the man is a vain, fucking fool that lets his ego get in the way of growing up. 43 is not the new 30, and I told you so. But I can gloat and chew gum at the same time. Drew Brees is a true American patriot and enjoys his privilege and loves the local character of his team, as opposed to Brady, now a menacing obelisk, stone faced. Brady tore himself away from where heart and soul belonged, with the bracing nor'easters of New England, to a sleight of hand with Barry Manilow's Copacabana, and as I grew up with Mister Tooty Fruity's tortious octave on the back of a yellow special education bus, I know these late age pair bondings are fairly combustible. Two nearly perfect interceptions, and at least two solid sacks, the worst game of his now nicked future Hall of Fame career, but go on, you all love the fellow too much for words.

A Jade Dagger

The 2008 film The Forbidden Kingdom is a lavish coming of age film, and although one doesn't forget that Jackie Chan takes up the composite drunken kung fu master where the B movies from Hong Kong left off, to my mind this is an attempted blockbuster homage to Jet Li, because his time as the warrior moralist heir to Bruce Lee was drawing to a close, and why am I thinking of this boys will be boys flick? Because its violence is ornate, fantastical, even if it allows for the tributaries of outcry for daughters who are determined to seek retribution, and I am somewhat infuriated with a handful of progressive Libertarians on Twitter, namely a husband and father of a five year old who mastered the smart phone camera to take a plethora of doggie photos. Laughable moment. I am pissed off at Curt for flashing a gif of starving Africans, the motif of the public service pleas of television broadcast for as long as any of us can remember, given that humans of the radio age are dying out. Curt says sorry you have to see this, but both Biden and Trump are to blame,

No, neither Biden nor Trump, especially Trump, are to blame for the suffering in the underdeveloped world in the sense that Curt means it, and I am not sure where the conservative right exists in the American scene anymore. I lost my temper with Curt for pandering, barely restrained myself from launching into a micro Tweet tirade for which I might have been suspended. I have wanted to write something about the condition of libertarian minorities for a long time, and we'll pick it up as soon as I can. I am dearly trying to salvage the remnants of my strength, and it's very difficult, not the least of which because of the nigger skulking about my studio with his frustrations. Terminating the working relationship with him wouldn't be easy on me right now.