Eye of Evil, Ear of Remorse (vol. 1, part 1): Break thy Icy Grip

It's small, mushy and yellow. No more than a few centimeters across. Most people consider it to be no more than a summertime nuisance - one of those few foods that contains the ever-present potential to jam itself between your pearly white teeth.

Sounds funny. Sounds cute.

But it's time to unmask the ugly truth about corn. Amerindian maize. The dull yellow stuff.

Laugh not, because this fiber-filled little plant seed has destroyed your world. And it threatens to rock the foundations of the future.

During the coming weeks we will take you on an incredible journey. You will travel to Mexico (metaphorically of course) to visit Coca-Cola factories; you will travel to Brazil to learn about ethanol refineries; you will travel to Washington D.C. to learn about the nefarious and far-reaching American Corn Farmer's Lobby; you will travel back in time to a pre-corn syrup era and into a dark and polluted future filled with billowing smokestacks and gesticulating "Middle American" politicians.

Brace yourself corn farmers. June 14 to July 14, 2007 are officially BODDASSCUBR's Anti-Corn-Based-Ethanol Month.

Sunday Zen

If anything, it's a mirror

On Friday, Honeydew Jackson played a blues show that filled Chicago's heart with an unusual joy. Generational Blues at the Hideout is a special occasion indeed. The lingering fact that "Honeyboy" Edwards learned to play with Robert Johson back in the Mississippi Delta was the proverbial icing on the cake - if you will grant us this crude aphorism.

Something was troubling on Waubansia Avenue though. In the bathroom of the Hideout there is a poster explaining "interesting facts" along with the tidbit that you forget 80% of what you learn each day.

Among many, here was one of the facts that stood out:
"The average life of a major league baseball is 5-7 pitches."

We're not financiers, or mathematicians, but please feel free to spot the lapse in judgement.

The Discount Window Is Open

Key phrases I read silently while watching CNN Headline News with closed captioning during the "Paris Hilton escorted back to court" news hour:

"Paris Hilton may try to say 'I--I am Paris Hilton.' But the Judge will likely say 'I am a judge, and I have the law.'"

"There's no such thing as 'too sick' for prison. In most prisons, they have devices that--when you are sick--they will make you well."

We Chase Ghosts, Not Talent

If there is one promise we make, it is that we will always analyze NBA basketball through a political or literary lens - and we will always analyze politicians based purely on their basketball and athletic skills.

In that spirit, we give a nod to the recent New York Times piece about Senator Barack Obama's basketball forays.

If Obama's ethos were a basketball player, then Obama surely would be 1989-90 Michael Jordan. Raw. Young. A popular scoring machine who lacks the ultimate championship, but holds the potential to take on the world.

Yet this brief essay is an analysis of Obama the basketball player. Not Obama the metaphor.

The story opens with the wiry Obama nailing a crunch-time game winning shot "with a head fake, a bit of contact and a jumper that seemed out of his range." We ascribe not to the belief in a liberal media bias, but this logic tears at the fabric of our souls. Through the New York Times, we see Obama as LeBron, Obama as T-Mac in 35 seconds, Obama as Reggie Miller in Madison Square Garden - an on-court hero hitting the last-second shot to win the game.

It is only midway through the article that our east-coast journalistic brethren reveal this little factoid:

"Mr. Obama cannot match their technical prowess, say those who played regularly with him. But he is fiercely competitive, and makes up for his deficits with collaboration and strategy. 'He’s very good at finding a way to win when he’s playing with people who are supposedly stronger,' Mr. Nesbitt said."

An undersized player, lacking the athleticism to dominate, but possessing the will to win. It is reminiscent of "scrappers" like John Stockton and Chicago's favorite worm - Dennis Rodman. But Stockton was too wise and Rodman was too rough. Obama is neither a basketball technician nor a tattooed strongman. Frankly, he sounds like a pickup role player to us.

If we had to compare Obama to a modern day basketball player, he would be former Dukie Mike Dunleavy. A mid-sized baller with a coach for a father, Dunleavy is all will and no way. He can take the court and has hit one or two game winning shots, but he can't hang with the tougher, more athletic players for a full game. That's what the scouting report tells us about Obama.

We're guessing most of our readers are not familiar with Dunleavy's wily-yet-underwhelming basketball style. So we'll throw out a second name that comes to mind: Manu Ginobili.

Listen to this passage about Obama: "Mr. Obama is left-handed, and his signature move is to fake right and veer left, surprising players used to guarding right-handed competitors."

And watch as the Argentinian superstar fakes right and goes left:

Ginobili's dual citizenship in Argentina and Italy may correspond well with Obama's American and Kenyan roots. Both are citizens of the international community. Both are mid-sized guard/forward combo players who have a predilection for the left-handed basket.

We will wait for another day to analyze the race-relations implications of Obama's two nearest NBA twins both being caucasian. Suffice to say, Manhattan liberals everywhere are sipping their tea faster as the nervous realization takes hold.