You Are Dumb, which is not a blog, posts new columns every weekday, except for a couple of days each month when it doesn't. It is also a Twitter feed, @youaredumb, with content in a similar vein but much shorter. My spinoff food site, Forkbastard, can be found easily enough by the clever.
Archive - May 7, 2004
Memo to baseball fans: YOU ARE DUMB.
But before we get to chastizing the stupid, numbnuts, deluded fans of the National Pastime, I would like you all to take a moment and look to the left and behold the fine work of Michael Scott Shappe, who graciously donates his mad PHP skillz so that all I have to do is type "fuck" a lot and hate things. Ain't it nice? And it's functional, too.
Right. Baseball fans. Idiots. They're like some blind, naive, 35 year old shut-in who marries a hooker who claims to be a Sunday School teacher. And despite the fact that she gives her lessons on Friday nights in the alley demonstrating the proper way to kneel to guys with $20, he still loves her, dammit.
BASEBALL IS A WHORE. The grand tradition, the noble history, the old-timey, sepiatone newsreel, Field of Dreams, Ken Burns bullshit doesn't exist, may have NEVER existed, but you all just lap it up. And when someone dares to sully your pristine whore by telling an off-color joke within earshot, you immediately cover her ears, leap to her defense, and pound the ruffian into the pavement with your walking stick.
Oh, my GOD! They're going to put the Spider-Man 2 logo on the bases! Baseball will, for the first time ever, be directly involved with ADVERTISING! Storm the ramparts! Get the torches and pitchforks! How dare they try to sell us their superhero movie while we enjoy a pleasant evening munching $20 nachos in our $50 obstructed view seats behind the $1000 skybox paid for with heaps of our own tax money? While a wide assortment of steroid poppers, racists, homophobes, criminals, and other forms of "professional athlete" stand around for four hours occasionally running back and forth? It's an OUTRAGE.
Get the fuck over yourselves. When the friggin' Olympics, where ostensibly nobody's even gettin' paid, are just another marketing opportunity, trying to hold baseball as somehow "above" mere finances is pointless. The war's over. You lost years ago. You're like some kind of tiny, yippy dog that survived the Alamo but still barks and chases after any Mexican that rides by on a horse, only to be pulled off your feet when you run out of leash. Sure, it's funny to watch the first couple of times, but the novelty wears off fast.
But hey, be happy. Your communal outrage stopped the fatcats. Sony has been stymied. There will be no Spidey ads on the bases, and as a result, you have SAVED BASEBALL.
Starting today, no more ads. All the games will be played in the summer, in open-air stadiums, by athletes making $40,000 a year across the board. Charming old men will walk the stands, offering you cool, refreshing lemonade for a nickel a glass. All the players will wear bow ties, the electronic scoreboards will be replaced by lovable orphans and bits of signboard with numbers painted on them, and everybody will be white.
Oh, and the entire country is getting together in Kansas next Wednesday to sing that stupid fucking "Center Field" song. And you'd better have the lyrics memorized, 'cause if you mess up, you'll be sent off to Guantanamo Bay where Donald Rumsfeld will shove chemical lights up your ass. Don't feel too bad. Like Rush says, he'll just be blowing off some steam. He has a very stressful job.