"Say It Ain't So" Indeed

Okay, I admit it - none of us was terribly fond of Sammy Sosa during the famed Home Run face-off between him and Mark MacGuire from a few years back. The man was *so* self-effacing and overly modest: every time a camera was pointed his way he'd jump to say "Mark's the man!" like a friggin' yes man or something, making Darwent, Darren, and I want to puke. I felt like screaming at the television "Grow some cojones! Stand up for yourself! Where the hell is that machismo you're supposed to be sportin'!?!?"

But now... if this is true (and I don't see how it can be anything but)...man oh man, Sammy - what the hell were you thinking?

This guy's column sums up my thoughts exactly. You gotta love ESPN.com.

(no subject)

Lethargic. Le-thar-gic. What a neat word. What an apt word. At first I thought I was full of energy but then I realized I just couldn't focus and so would flit from task to task. I've spent the last week up and about. My bed rolls up and so I can't really lay in it all day unless I don't fold it up in the morning...which, oddly enough, I've been unwilling to do. I feel this drive to keep my room semi-decent at all times, and that includes folding up my sheets and neatly packing away the bed in the morning. The morning starts around 7, with a trip to the store for the Times. I return to the apartment and make a cup of coffee and blah blah blah. Can't focus for the life of me. I would nap but then I'd feel like I was wasting time. So I stay up and run from the Mezzanine to the living room to my room and back again, world without end.

Why can't I find any self-help guides online... is this punishment for horrible crimes... blah blah

Ultimately the best therapist off the top of my head would emerge from the unholy mixture of a Neo-Freudian (pick any of the schools with a humanistic, almost Rogerian slant) and a Catholic priest. None of that couch and sitting behind me crap. It's all about the therapist being hidden behind a screen and anonymity being assured. Sandalwood incense in the air would be swell as well.

Hours spent pouring over the web looking at online therapist sites are finally sending me over the edge. They're all money-grubbing bastids, the lot of them.

Or not. I'm just bitter. And tired. And wishing this overcast bit would end quickly; make up your mind, Providence - either rain or let the sun pop up. Jebus.

It's multiple meaningless entries day!

A rather dumb bit of psuedo-AI I've come across during the course of today's net travels. This one fails the Turing Test with flying colors. Meet Eliza. Must have been made in the early 90's judging by the rather plain webpage. Amuse yourself for minutes by typing in meaningless babble.