kthejoker's New Writeups

National Scarf (fiction)

2009-12-07T19:41:56Z

The decline of civilization is generally recognized, of course, as a gentle rolling slope of hubris, hurt feelings, credit crises, white flight, inbreeding, book burning, dog-eared Marxism, climate change and decadence, but naturally some peaks - or valleys; here the topographical metaphor begins its own decline - are more outstanding than others, and thus I submit that if you want to know when for me it was all washed up, it was when they announced that It would be beige and only beige.

It was, I think, the very inscrutability of Its beigeness that did it. This great land of individualism had been presented with a Canvas so blank and sub-tile that the projections upon It and implications stemming from It were embarrassingly idiosyncratic; one clever wag later noted Its startling similarity to the color of the emperor's clothes.

For days afterwards, we looked and looked for meaning in It, until we found ourselves exhausted and convinced that there was far more interesting things…

University of South Carolina (fiction)

2009-12-03T04:52:53Z

Carolina and I are talking again. It was always just a question of timing, the scintillae of permanence in her voice, like all things Southern, an affectation of manners. This time I have with even voice and sound mind laid marriage on the table. I have planned an elaborate question-popping once I've heard her answer. If it is no it will be easy enough to convert it back into its original form (a parade against wearing fur, beloved but ineffective.)

The things we are talking about are Important Things, things I had never considered particularly important before. Things like my bowed legs.

A genetic deficit to our children, Carolina chides. (Theoretical children ... surely.)

They've done me alright, I note.

Carolina laughs and her legs alpine and smooth stir ever so slightly as she inhales.

Besides, I note, cumulatively, our genetic account is in the black.

There, another Important Thing: our joint bank account. (Not so much theoretical as…

same memory, different angle (fiction)

2009-10-13T16:16:37Z

How is it never Sunday here? It is never Sunday here this is what Jameson said to me Wednesday and despite all of his wild theories he is most correct about this calendary legerdemain. I have yet to have had a Sunday here. Today, for example, is Thursday. The day before today may have been a Thursday, too I will ask Jameson in the yard; not today, we are not in the yard on Thursday. Saturday is our day in the yard.

No, no - yesterday was Monday, Huff is dead on Monday and Huff wasn't around yesterday, on schedule per ordinary. Yes, yesterday was Monday, and today is Thursday, and with any luck the day after today will be Saturday.

What days have we had?

Monday, check.

Tuesday - do we have Tuesday? Surely we do, Huff is constantly going on about seeing you next Tuesday (Stringer disapproves of this habit of Huff's, he calls it indecent - perhaps this is why we don't have them? Another query for Jameson.)

We've had one Wednesday - that…

The Red Circle (review)

2009-05-11T17:51:54Z

The existential burglar genre is less an affectation of plot than circumstance. Paul Muni's defiant, plaintive declaration at the end of I Am the Fugitive of a Chain Gang ("I steal!") seems to sum up the movie's purposiveness, and with it all of its descendants. The thievery at the center of the story is a fait accompli, its execution generally flawless (or at the minimum hypercompetent) but something must come after the caper - ahh, yes, la vie ...

The evolution of the genre then, is not in the technology of crime (though the novelty of The Red Circle's burglary - bordering on alchemy - serves its characters better than others have) or the motivations driving our anti-hero (and again, The Red Circle deftly avoids sentimentalism in favor of the original sin, greed), but in how society (inevitably anthropomorphized flatly as a cop - a trope beautifully and darkly subverted in Petri's Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion) responds to the act. Without…

Larry Dierker (person)

2008-09-26T02:33:05Z

Larry Dierker, Houston Astros pitcher and manager

Lawrence Edward Dierker was born September 22, 1946 in Hollywood, California. Larry was a four year letterman for his high school baseball team, and upon graduation from Taft High was drafted by the youngest team in the National League, the Houston Colt .45's. He made his major league debut on his 18th birthday in front of the hometown fans, a game he lost 3-1.

Over the next 12 years, Larry became the dominant ace of the redubbed Houston Astros staff. He won 10 games or more for the team every year from 1966 to 1976, except for 1967, when he was drafted and served in the military, and 1973, which he spent recovering from shoulder surgery. He was known for being a variety pitcher, as likely to throw a curveball as a fastball as a changeup on any pitch. In 1969 he had a breakout year, becoming the first Astros pitcher in franchise history to win 20 games while striking out 232 batters and accumulating a dazzling 2.33…

Al Lopez (person)

2008-09-26T02:28:03Z

Al Lopez, Hall of Fame catcher and manager

Alfonso Ramon Lopez was born August 20, 1908 in Tampa, Florida. After a brief stint with the major league club in 1928, he was called up for good in 1930.

The youngsters coming up now just go through the motions necessary to make the play. They should bounce around a little, show some life and zip.

Al's rookie year was one of his best, as he topped .300 (.309) and clubbed 6 home runs for the Dodgers. Over the next five years he gave the team a steady catcher with a solid arm, if a somewhat unspectacular bat, though he batted .301 in 1933. Al was primarily known as a pitcher's catcher, an intelligent player who studied opposing batters constantly.

In 1936 Al was shipped to the Boston Bees, where he once again stood out as the slick-fielding starting catcher for the team. Two years later Casey Stengel, who had traded Al to Boston, arrived to manage the Bees, and two years later, Al…