Responsible for Own Fantasies

Welcome once again to my favorite weekly post, Always Bet with Black. And, as per usually, we kick things off with a picture from Britty.

"happy will kill you", by Britty

Ah. She's her brother's sister ain't she?

Anyhoo, for reasons known only to him, instead of the old format, young dits has decided to pick all of the bodog.com games. He insists that this will make it easier for you, the reader and consumer.

What he's doing is that he's showing you the spreads they have (pretty much the initial ones) and what he's betting on, using a gambling term known as "units". The units, typically, will vary week to week. But it's basically a confidence rating. That's really all you need to know.

We'll keep track of both his actual money picks and his total picks. Possibly even picks by conference.

Also: we have no idea if Random Numbers is coming back this year, because of the Dutchman being busy with actual things. But we do know that Rabbit Day will be back.

Because it is awesome.

Picks below the jump?

There are very few qualities about myself that I find interesting. Like at all. I find most of my life to be mind-numbingly boring. Mostly because I've lived it. I guess. Or something. Anyhoo, one of the few things that I do find interesting or "cool" about me is my memory. Like I pretty much actually remember everything that has happened to me while sober. Ok, not totally everything. But at least a good 70%. My sister seems to think that I have an Eidetic memory. Which I don't totally believe. But, hey, anything that compares me favorably with Matthew Gray Gubler I'll take.

Anyhoo, this may seem like a great thing. And for the most part, it is. It helps me at work. It helped me even more when I was in sales. Hell, it helps in remembering random stuff, like Wonderbear3000's love for Toto's "Africa". But for the most part, it's a burden.

For example. Let's say I was dating someone. You know, ever^sd. And I forget something. Like the anniversary of our first kiss. Or the first time we made out. Or something random like that. I'd get grief for it. And deservedly so. I'm the one running around telling random people I remember everything.

That's a kinda hypothetical stretch though. That would never happen.

Ok. Let's try this. What if your cousin, who was also one of your best friends died? Like unexpectedly? I mean, sure, most people would remember that. Maybe even most of them would remember the exact date. Or how they heard. Or where they were.

Me on the other hand, I remember all of that. I remember vividly. And I remember it every year on the day it happened as if it was happening all over again. August 20th, by far, is the worst day in my life. Well, it used to be at least. But I'll get back to that last point.

I didn't go to Ron's funeral. I was at school, it started like 3 days later^sd2. And I wasn't coming home for it. Because I prefer remember people like the last time I saw them. And if I went to the funeral, the last time I would've saw him would've been dead. And I don't want to remember him like that.

What I do remember most about Ron, if I had to pick out one specific time. One specific moment is listening to this song with him for like the first, or maybe 50th time. I don't know. I do remember that I just got back from a program at Kenyon like two weeks before, I had to actually go to school at Kenyon like 5 weeks later, and we were just hanging out, driving around the streets of Cleveland. We were listening to "We Are the Streets" and we were stopped outside some random friend of his', and this song came on. It was lightly raining, and for some reason, we started dancing. I remember for some reason someone brought up the line about the Air Force Ones with yellow checks.

It was a great day. Restropectively, one of the best times we spent together, actually.

Anyhoo, "Fuck You" by The LOX has, subsequently, become one of my favorite songs ever. Like to the point in which if I ever run for election, I want it to play when I win. Hell, the term "Fuck you" is probably my favorite thing to say ever. And I'm not sure if the two are connected.

But back to what I was saying earlier. I know that for a while this day and subject, and other days and subjects were days and subjects that I was horrible about. Like overly emotional and otherwise intolerable. But you see, today, 9 years later, I did a wonderfully good and probably stupid thing. And because of this a) I learned that on some things I just need to move on. and b) that I will not have any opportunity to have any fun ever outside of State games besides this blog.

I know I haven't been writing, or doing much of anything w/r/t cofabg, OMWD, "2160 Fulton" and "Attack of the Moving Bush". It seems as though I've been on a little break. Worrying about, you know, my personal life. Whether or not i should look for a new job. Breaks are good. It's not a bad idea to take a break every now and then. I mean, this isn't the easiest thing to do. Write something. Put some thing of yourself into something so public, so all can see. But it's probably something I need to do more often.

So I'm telling you like this. Break's over. I start getting more awesome on Monday. Or thereabouts.

Also: sorry about the youtube. Hopefully, I'll fix the grooveshark thing, and change this later.

Also: there might be some profanity in these lyrics. Just sayin'

Fuck You
The LOX
We are the Streets

ditriech:  Also, I'm about to get a Growler of beer. Stay tuned   14:27
zerodutch: And I'm stuck at my boss's place working. I hate you. 14:29
ditriech: I just finished a Growler in 20 minutes. Now a rhino hero 15:22
zerodutch: Hate hate hate 15:23 

Sometimes you get the bear and sometime the bear gets you.

Ok, I have no idea what that means. But sometimes, so-ometimes you find the YouTube of the week by accident. You are just reading along and it hits you. You see, this week (if I get this post up first), the YouTube of the Week is about hope. And triumph. And the perseverance of the human spirit. Or, its a trailer from an awesome documentary, you decide.

You see American Movie could probably be made about me. In like 5 years. This is mostly because one of my life goals is to have a documentary made about me. Because my life is awesome. But the difference between myself and Mark Borchardt is that I have many obsessions. I mean I have Ohio State Football^sd, I have cofabg, I have the Republic of Nortonia. Borchardt has a singular focus. Coven. Coven is the thing that consumes his life. I mean, I could go on about what American Movie means to me and the American dream and all of that. But I advise you go watch it. Its free on YouTube until the end of the month. Also, it is Rated R, so you need to have a Google or YouTube account to view it. But I know that Bizzo and Dutch have both of them.

Raised Glass to the Mental Floss Blog, one of my favorite blogs on the tubes.

ED NOTE: this week's BSOW is just turrable

I know I've gone on record before with this but I don't dance. Like at all^sd1. I just am too self-conscious^sd2 to even attempt to dance while sober and in front of other people. But it is important to this story. Obliquely, at least

Anyhoo, back in college, I had a crush on this girl who we'll call Serena^sd3. For like a while^sd4. In contrast to the rest of my crushes during this era^sd5, I rarely saw Serena. I mean, we had maybe a couple of classes together early, and of course in the dining halls every now and again. But she seemed like she was rarely around.

Fast Forward to 2005, after a series of (extremely unlikely events that led to me to hanging out at the Beta Acland semi-regularly^sd6. I was there one night during Senior week hanging out, and for some reason the conversation turned to Serena. It seemed as though everyone else there had the same general feeling about her: that she was comely, but unattainable. She just didn't--or wouldn't-- talk to anyone on campus. After a while, and with enormous amounts of liquid courage I^sd7 decided to go next door (which, conveniently, is where she lived) and talk to her. So we knocked on the door and her sister answered. Being that I was drunk (and that it was like 4 years ago now I don't remember what I talked with her about), I do remember that I told her who I was, and that I wanted to talk to Serena, who she said was upstairs asleep. Or something. I then told her about how I had a crush on Serena for like 3 years, yet was scared to tell her for numerous reasons^sd8. The primary one being that I was afraid she wouldn't remember me. After chatting for about 2 or 3 minutes, I turned to leave.

As I was walking back to the Acland, Serena said "I remember you Alan^sd9." So we talked for a while, I'm pretty sure I told her I had a crush on her then I left and went home or to drink more or something. Actually, the two aren't mutually exclusive. Anyhoo, the next night was "80s dance party night" and "Midnight Breakfast" . Seeing as I don't dance, I went for the breakfast option. Because bacon and hash browns are good at any time of day. But especially at like midnight. But, because I have a crippling addiction to 80s Power Pop^sd10 I went upstairs to listen for a while. And, because there wouldn't actually be a point in telling you this if it was otherwise, Serena was there. We look at each other. I went over to talk to her for a while (while, natch, this song was playing), and then I left to go play Kings.

Not the most exciting story in the world, I know, but it is the reason why this song is in my head every three months or so.

Take Me Home Tonight - Eddie Money (f. Ronnie Spector)

Eddie Money (f. Ronnie Spector)
Take Me Home Tonight
Can't Hold Back

~

At least one person I know will go out this way. That or I get about three grogs deep and jump into a Medieval Times show. I think these days you get some kind of high score for landing "halberd" in your coroner's report.

But seriously. No outrage is allowed here. If you wave a huge gun around at the police, and refuse to drop it, and act crazy, the proper thing is that you get shot. That's what we have police FOR. Directing traffic, handing out drunk in public tickets to cofabg writers, and shooting you. That you trigged their Call of Duty reflexes is a footnote.

I mean, way to ruin all their future fun.

Yeah, I know that pretty much every site ever is showing pictures of election night, but we had to have a post that sends the Barry Banner (as its being known around the cofabg offices^sd1) out in style.

Actual thoughts and mental reactions coming probably as a vamp chron, provided I shoot my regular and don't sleep before 0300.

Also, it gives me an excuse to post this song

More pictures after the jump

Another stellar pick from the Random Number generator.  With no "off" games on the board this week, it can't do too badly. But I'd like to point out that it picked PSU, OSU, and Michigan. I gotta respect an algorithm based on atmospheric noise that picks the hometown favorites.  And that also has a soft spot in its digital heart for hating on Minnesota. Despite its successes in the last two weeks, the RNG played it safe this week and predicted that the enimitable ditriech. Full predictions after the jump.

~

Today is Emperor Norton Day. In which Psi Upper Norton, real people in an imaginary fraternity, celebrate Joshua Norton, real man and imaginary emperor of the United States. It's a strange week to celebrate. We've just memorialized and eulogized a hero of ours. A champion of mental discipline, self-insight, and the worship of real life stuff. So do we honor an escapist? I say yes. We honor this escapist. The world had room for both of them, and the debate over whose life was more worth having, is worth having.

In this argument, the Leader of the Opposition is Neil. It was from Gaiman comics that I first heard the story, and was asked to consider it noble. No surprise. Everything that man writes is about What Myths Are and where in our non-myth world they are supposed to fit. He may consider myth-making the essential human trait. If the universe will not give us gods, quests, measurements and legacies, then we make them. Our myths are existential battle cries. Like love and money. Apes can make shelters and ants can make networks, but imagination is where we become human. And. When the world falls in, and we're out of money, and love, and hope, then what we have left is myth. Making someone who chooses fantasy over death a hero. A last-ditch defender of the human mind. Put otherwise,

That is real freedom. ... understanding how to think. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the rat race, the constant gnawing sense of having had, and lost, some infinite thing.

How you do this is the killer for me. The Son of Sam had rich set of personal myths. Turkmenbashi is a god. Louis XVI loved ritual, and Louis Pasteur did not. We'd all do better without elaborate personal fantasies, wouldn't we? Most of us would. But Neil anticipated the question.

"Norton has shed no blood, robbed no one, and despoiled no country, which is more than can be said for most fellows in the king line."

Go back to the first link in this entry. Compare everything done with the life of Charles Manson. With Kim Jong-Ill. What accounts for the difference? Not a lack of real power. Motivated nobodies can be monsters, and their myths probably help. I say it's empathy. Aren't love, money, gods and tribes excuses to be with other people? Mental bridges that somewhere inbetween making them up and using them, define humanness in a way no external force will? Maybe it's because I would go gay for the zombie corpse of Victor Hugo, but Joshua's story reads like a person who knew he needed other people to live. So when the world didn't give him any reason to love them, he made one up. So Psi Upper Norton celebrates Emperor Norton Day. In the hope that when life does not go as expected, we can all be good or crazy enough to say what Dave Wallace could not.

I am content to be what I am.

Joshua Norton (1819-1880)