Stream of Consciousness
Bracketology, bracketology, bracketology. I love the NCAA Tournament, but they need to ditch that term. It's gotten so bad, I don't even like the word "bracket" anymore. And what's with NCAA women's basketball? Talk about a project that the Media Forces won't let die. My gosh. They've been cramming women's basketball down our throats for the past 25 years. Sure, women's basketball has made some progress during that time, but so did Arena Football during that same period. If powerful forces--from Title IX to ESPN--didn't prop up squaw ball, it would've been relegated to lacrosse status by now. Let's face it: athletics is a guy thing. It's a vestige of the warrior age, when men proved their muscular worth. Sports are good for women and I'm happy my daughters have sporting opportunities, but for the most part, sports (at least of the contact sort) cater to the male psyche . . . it's a hard-wired thing. And anyone who disagrees is stupid or is a lesbian, lesbian wannabe, or lesbian. Seem harsh? Screw it. I'm not in a good mood. I spent my entire birthday weekend, working on taxes. Freakin' Woodrow Wilson. That guy oughtta rot in hell: League of Nations, Income Tax, Federal Reserve, anti-Catholic bigot. Whatta bastud. He opposed Prohibition, but other than that, he was an unmitigated arrogant disaster. I normally spend a chunk of every weekend, putting together a good Monday post and gathering leads for potential stories on Tuesday or Wednesday. Not this weekend. I spent it on taxes, and now I enter the blogging week naked. Y'all might be seeing a lot of these stream of consciousness posts.
