Tag Archives: hockey

These Things We Believe, Part The First

19 Wednesday Sep 2012

Posted by in Philosophy

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By Smaktakula

We Not Only Believe In The Sanctity Of Individual Opinion, But Believe That Everyone Should Feel That Way.

On Happiness

Around the world, millions–and perhaps more likely, billions–of people are unhappy. Curiously, this appears to be no less true in the United States of America, which, for all its recent travails still remains a relative land of plenty when compared to to the standard of living “enjoyed” by many of our fellow humans. It is strange that this should be so, not simply because of America’s aforementioned affluence, but because no other culture in history has invested so much of its time, energy and resources in an as-yet fruitless quest for contentment.

There exist a great many theories to explain the first-world despair experienced by so many Americans, but the true causes are likely myriad. The effects  of the nation’s increasingly frenetic rainbow-chase in search of fulfillment have been somewhat more tangible.

“School’s Out School’s Out / Teachers Let The Monkeys Out / One Was Jailed, One Prevailed / Both Asked God “How Have I Failed?”

As a consequence of this happiness deficit, two distinct, but inextricably-linked notions have become prevalent in the American psyche. The first is that unhappy people are somehow failures. The second, in typical, blame-the-victim fashion, contends that unhappy people are themselves responsible for the tragic emptiness in their lives.

Folks, we absolutely believe this. If you–who has so goddamn much–isn’t happy, then you are a failure. And your unhappiness? It’s your fault.¹

We’ll talk more about this later.

You Know You Want It.

***

We Know It Shouldn’t Matter, But…

We believe that if you’re telling someone a story about a dude named Leroy, and Leroy happens to be white, you need to apprise the listener of that fact early in the story. This will prevent the intracranial explosion which would otherwise occur when you say something like, “My buddy stood in line for fourteen hours to get us these playoff tickets, but you know Leroy–he’s crazy about hockey!”²

Likewise, If This Guy’s Name Is “Chip,” “Chase” or “Skippy,” You’ll Want To Devote A Little More Time To Exposition.

***

We Could Not Be More Serious About This

We believe that an inverse, but very powerful, relationship exists between how seriously someone takes himself and how seriously he should be taken.

Ralph Nader, Whose Tireless Nagging Saved Countless Lives By Forcing The Automotive Industry To Design Safer Automobiles, Is In Many Ways Like A Condom. Like The Love-Glove, This Humorless Crusader Has Made Contemporary Life Unquestionably Safer Than In Years Past , While Simultaneously Stripping From It Much Of The Sensation Which Makes A Thing Worth Doing.

***

Tardsie As A Patron Of The Arts

Tardsie writes:

One day, not long ago, when my boys and I were walking into town to get ice cream cones, we passed a homeless dude who chatted me up a little before asking for some change. He was friendly, and didn’t bother regaling me with some fantastic tale of hardship or earnest promises to use the money for saintly purposes (although I love a well-crafted tale), so I told him I’d get him on the way back.

My older boys are not quite five, and I gave them a dollar each to give to the dude as we passed him a second time–they got a kick out of that–and then we walked home eating our ice cream.

I didn’t really think twice about the encounter until I ran into the same homeless guy a few days later in the course of my own rambles about town. He told me he’d managed to scrape up enough cash to get his guitar out of hock. It turns out he plays beautifully.

We believe that was money well-spent.

This Might’ve Been The Guy, Actually.

***

Another Time-Travel Paradox³

We believe that when scientists finally manage to shatter the barriers to the 4th dimension, and time travel at last becomes a reality, its use will necessarily be confined to a select, responsible few. Due to the delicate, precise nature of the time-stream, its stewardship must be tasked to only the most conscientious, upright individuals.

And really, this is kind of a shame. With all the potential for using this technology irresponsibly to achieve godlike pinnacles of power and riches beyond all the dreams of avarice–along with power’s attendant benefits, such as more tail than one individual could bang in a lifetime–it seems an almost criminal waste to award it to such joyless sticks-in-the-mud.

Such An Awesome Power Must Never Be Entrusted To The Likes Of Us.

***

¹It should go without saying that we do NOT include in this assessment those individuals grappling with mental illness. We hold in high regard those folks saddled with conditions like clinical depression or who are bi-polar and yet bravely dust themselves off after each setback and gamely wade back into the fray. The courage implicit in your daily struggle outshines those instances of resolve in our own lives of which we are most proud; it is a beautiful and wondrous thing to witness. Be sure to take your meds. ∞ T.
² The genesis for this nugget of wisdom springs from a story my wife told me recently about a former co-worker of hers. However, in real life the instance of complete and total bafflement centered not around ice hockey, but country music.  ∞ T.
³ Grammar-ninnies and vocabuladorks will be quick to point out our improper use of the word paradox. Nothing’s being done to the word that hasn’t been done to ‘irony’ for years now, so keep your panties on. Yeah, we ended that with a preposition. So what? Down is not the direction in which we will be backing! ∞ T.

Skating On Thin Skin

05 Thursday Jan 2012

Posted by in Culture, Sport

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By Smaktakula

It's One Thing To Stick A Guy In The Crotch, But Talking Badly About His Mother Is Out Of Line.

Although it’s easy to forget about it, hockey has comprised a tiny piece of the American fabric for many years, although specifically how many we’re not sure.  Despite that it isn’t very fun to watch, and like soccer, is mostly played by mulleted European dudes (in which category we include Canadians) with last names badly in need of an extra vowel or two, no one argues that hockey isn’t a tough sport.  The fights, sharpened blades and indiscriminate sticking ensures that if not an eye or a few teeth, someone’s at least going to lose a couple pints of blood.  And so it’s been for years: hockey is dangerous, and the people love it.

But an insidious new trend threatens to blight the wholesome free-for-all violence of hockey–unkind words.  Now, not only must players contend with the physical dangers of their sport, but also be on guard for rising threats to their very delicate feelings.  Sadly, as of this writing, no protective equipment exists to adequately shield a player’s self-esteem.  This became apparent to hockey fans last week when Florida Panthers forward Krys Barch blithely skated over another player’s sense of self-worth.

Because Hearing Unpleasant Things Is Just Like Taking A Punch To The Face.

While most players would be content with an illegal check or a stick to the crotch, Barch blatantly disregarded the safety of all present when he–apparently–uttered an unidentified racial slur.  Although the details remain murky, Barch allegedly hurled the epithet at Montreal’s P. K. Subban, whose parents hail from Jamaica, at the end of the first period en route to the Panthers’ 3-2 victory over Montreal.  Subban himself did not hear the unidentified slur (or possibly, insinuated slur, which is just as bad), but an unnamed official did, and removed Barch from the game immediately.  Subban is said to be making a speedy recovery after the vicious attack.

The NHL has yet to determine Barch’s fate, although the Panthers have kept the hockey hate-monger off the ice since the horrifying racial incident.  The time away from hockey should give Barch some much-needed time to think about his behavior and the hate that lies behind it.  A stick to the face hurts, but a careless stick to the soul can leave a wound too deep to heal.

If The World Were Run Like Your First-Grade Classroom, No One Would Ever Have Hurt Feelings Again.

Ferret Legging

09 Thursday Jun 2011

Posted by in Culture, Sport, Stupidity

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By Smaktakula

Ferret Legging: Simultaneously A Sport And A Crime Against Nature.

Before the promulgation of worthwhile American sports such as baseball, football, basketball or hockey*, non-Americans were forced to content themselves with quasi-sports like croquet, Duck-Duck-Goose and soccer.  It’s no surprise then that these diversion-starved people began to invent their own increasingly bizarre ‘sports.’

However, the Yorkshire miners who in the 1970s invented ferret legging, also known as ferret-down-trousers, had no such excuse.  Although week after week, color television offered far safer and more athletically meritorious sports, the Yorkies designed a contest that very often results in bleeding genitals.

Why Not Try Tetherball? It's Just As Lame, But You Can Wear White Pants.

The rules of ferret legging are simple: participants trap ferrets in their pants and then see who can endure the longest as the needle-toothed weasels fight for trouser real estate.  Underwear is not permitted, and the pants must be such that the furred Slinkies can pass from leg to leg with ease.

Considered a dying sport, ferret legging has sought mightily to remain relevant in an age of much cooler sports.  Despite the hazards of a severed scrotum or perforated penis, ferret leggers take solace in the knowledge that however wretched their sport may be, it will always be a step above competitive eating.

This Is Hardly The Worst Creature You've Found Nuzzling Your Crotch.

*It’s American now, by God! ∞T.

Vulgar Non-Sport Allows Loveless Grotesqueries To Masquerade As Athletes

12 Monday Jul 2010

Posted by in Culture, Entertainment, Sport, Stupidity

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By Smaktakula

Those who derive a grim joy in heralding the West’s cultural decline must surely take delight in the sudden and troubling popularity of competitive eating.  For many years a quaint–if bizarre–swatch of Americana primarily relegated to county fairs, competitive eating has recently risen to a degree that many Americans are confusing it with an actual sport, and its wretched, talentless participants with athletes.  Worse still, statistics indicate an increase among young people who believe, erroneously,  that the ability to effortlessly slide a six-inch piece of meat down one’s throat is a skill with applications outside prison walls.

Replacing Nathan's Franks With 'Botulism Dogs' Would Do Wonders For The Gene Pool.

In the halcyon days of yesteryear, Americans were a happier, healthier people.  They lived lives which modern Americans would consider catastrophically dull, lacking the Internet, cell phones, flat screen 3D Televisions and indoor plumbing to which 21st Century Man has become inseparable.  They had neither the plethora of food choices available now, nor the glut of processed, modified or otherwise bastardized food-based products which will be coming out of American microwaves this evening.

They were a simpler, tougher breed, qualities reflected in the sports they played.  People who lived where it was cold and who spoke with funny accents played hockey.  Arrogant blueblood cocksuckers were sure to play lacrosse, and soccer found a foothold in the exotic immigrant enclaves on the East Coast.  Fellows who liked to kick shit often opted for bull riding.  For everybody else there was baseball, football and basketball.

Now, several converging trends have made it possible for a new breed of sporting event to come shuffling to the fore, one that eschews the outdated emphasis on athleticism, sportsmanship and dignity, instead concentrating solely on spectacle.

Joey Chestnut's Name May Conjure Images Of Mobsters, But Everything Else About This Ass-Clown Screams 'Douche.'

One important factor in opening the door for these exciting new athletic events is the increasingly sedentary nature of Americans.   When waddling down the base paths becomes too difficult or a lay-up must be interrupted by a short break for breath, it may become difficult to identify with “true” athletes, who with nothing more than a little luck, God-given talent and years upon years of practice, have healthy bodies which the average American can never hope to enjoy.

The most insidious factor in the rise of non-sport is surely Cable TV.  Before the advent of ESPN2, who exactly was aware of “sports” like the Spelling Bee, Magic: The Gathering or the Matholympics?

As insipid as those activities are, they pale beside the most odious and vulgar of the non-sports: competitive eating, a vile glorification of excess, of food not for nourishment, but for spectacle.

If The Love-Child Of Steve Irwin And Ichiro Lived Its Entire Life In A Cave Subsisting On Nothing But Slim-Jims And Pork Rinds, It Might Look Something Like Kobayashi.

What must the rest of the world, much of it malnourished, think of America’s sleight-of-hand in rendering a crapulent circus into athletic achievement?  Americans might be better served not by asking why so many foreign nationals are crossing their borders, but rather, why those same foreign nationals haven’t killed them in their sleep?

"What The Fuck Is Wrong With You People? Damn."

Perhaps the most tangible impact of this societal lymphoma is Major League Eating.  While it may seem bizarre, or perhaps even horrifying to hear the words Major and League attached to Eating, representatives of MLE were quick to point out that, prior to MLE, there had been no sanctioning body regulating competitive eating, an absence which they claim could have profoundly affected not only the sport’s traditions, but also its dignity.