SilverJacket

Under Armour Is a Bad Name

When Under Armour started, in 1996, it had a great name.

Bunnydome

To complete the Mad Max effect, Burning Man has its own Thunderdome. Two people dangle from the top via bungee cords and go at each other with padded bats.

This year the Billion Bunny March descended upon the 'dome and claimed it as their own. I was not there to witness the event, but legend has it that the following was uttered: "Two bunnies enter, 40 bunnies leave."

[image sources: 1, 2]

Mindfuck

[Click to enlarge.]

Um, guys, last I checked, you were there to officiate the NCAA title game, not ponder the nature of infinity.

My Bad

Harry Whittington had this to say today about getting shot in the face by Dick Cheney: "My family and I are deeply sorry for all that Vice President Cheney and his family have had to go through this past week."

In related news, Johnny Weir apologized to the fishing net that delayed his arrival to warmups last night and may have held him back from winning the first ever Winter Olympic gold medal for the lost city of Atlantis.

Michael Jordan Totally Freaked Charles Barkley

You may recall my earlier post about a recent trip to Las Vegas, where I saw Charles Barkley and Michael Jordan dance on a table at the Bellagio's nightclub, Light. I now have the promised visual aid, courtesy one Tiller Beauchamp and his sweet camera skills.

See, I remember the basketball superstars dancing, but my intoxication prevented my noting precisely which steps they did. Was it the Charleston? The Roger Rabbit? (It's to the tune of "Crazy in Love.") Reviewing the footage, I now recognize that they were STRAIGHT UP GRINDING. AND SPANKING. The movie file is 8 MB so I pulled some choice stills and assembled an incriminating collage of their intimate frolicking. Click on pic above for larger version.

The faces are small. If you don't believe it's really MJ and CB, check the E! Online gossip archives:

Tom Brady and Michael Jordan, goofing off through the ayem hours at Light in the Bellagio Hotel. Vegas, baby. Tom-hon joined ex-baller Charles Barkley in a VIP booth, while M.J. sat in another cushy booth directly on the dance floor. Charlie and Mikey boogied about, exchanging hellos and jokes. With his signature hoop earring, Mr. Jordan was decked out head-to-toe in a red 'n' black Air Jordan getup. Patriots quarterback Brady-babe, probably missing his honey, Bridget Moynahan, was more subdued than his fellow sporty homies. 

UPDATE: Ryan from GorillaMask.net has offered to host the video, so now you can watch it for yourself. (The three random people at the end: Nicole freaking out, my drunken dancing head, and Tiller turning the camera on himself while doing the Jordan tongue move.) Enjoy.

UPDATE 2: The link in the first update is broken, but now YouTube exists, so here you go.

Artificial High

Recently William Saletan wrote a well-researched article in Slate ("The Beam in Your Eye") that "If steroids are cheating, why isn't LASIK?":

A month ago, Mark McGwire was hauled before a congressional hearing and lambasted as a cheater for using a legal, performance-enhancing steroid precursor when he broke baseball's single-season home run record.

A week ago, Tiger Woods was celebrated for winning golf's biggest tournament, the Masters, with the help of superior vision he acquired through laser surgery.

What's the difference?

It reminded me of the use of "artificial aids" in mountain climbing. In 1978, Reinhold Messner and Peter Habeler received wide praise for the first ascent of Everest without oxygen tanks. That's definitely an athletic feat worthy of high praise, but the classification of oxygen tanks as "artificial aids" always confused me. It seems that if carrying oxygen with you is artificial, so is carrying food and water.

Here is partial list of equipment needed to scale Everest. Wouldn't ice axes, crampons, and ladders better fit the bill of "artificial aid."

Break It Up Already!

Wacky Weblink Wednesday...

When I was growing up, Carl Lewis was perhaps my favorite athlete. Something about the sprint and long jump just seemed so sleek and dynamic and pure. So graceful, so fleeting, so intense. And winning the gold in long jump in 4 consecutive Olympics? That's FUCKING NUTS. To me, Carl Lewis was untouchable.

Apparently I had forgotten a few things.

Click on FUN WITH CARL and you will be treated to a self-mocking chronological retrospective of Carl's hair (including The Hood Ornament, The Dead Beaver, and The Gumby); Carl's clothes; and a forgettable pop song ("Goin' For Gold"), including a mix with brain-deadening rap interlude.

Rock On

People don't think there's any strategy to Rock, Paper, Scissors, but the website of the World RPS Society delves into some of the common psychological and  physical strategies used by players in the know. They also name the eight most popular gambits:

Avalanche (RRR)
Bureaucrat (PPP)
Crescendo (PSR)
Dénouement (RSP)
Fistfull o’ Dollars (RPP)
Paper Dolls (PSS)
Scissor Sandwich (PSP)
Toolbox (SSS)

It's hard to whether these people in full honesty believe RPS is more than a game of chance, but I defy anyone to beat my lifetime winning percentage of 56%.