22 January 2006
Sometimes life is hard for no reason at all.
This is where they fought the battle of Gettysburg. Fifty thousand men died right here on this field, fighting the same fight that we are still fighting among ourselves today. This green field right here, painted red, bubblin' with the blood of young boys. Smoke and hot lead pouring right through their bodies. Listen to their souls, men. I killed my brother with malice in my heart. Hatred destroyed my family. You listen, and you take a lesson from the dead. If we don't come together right now on this hallowed ground, we too will be destroyed, just like they were. I don't care if you like each other of not, but you will respect each other. And maybe... I don't know, maybe we'll learn to play this game like men.
Remember the Titans
Eugene and I are chillin' in his apartment here in NYC and watching what may be the first football movie I have ever not only enjoyedit's making laugh and scream and cry.
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Matt Jaehn, if you're reading this, you absolutely should go visit this exhibit in Memphis.
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About to go to the grocery store to get stuff to make baked mac and cheese and a pie for Eugene and his roommates' barbeque tonight, so I don't have time right now for commentary, but here's the stuff I've been reading all morning:
Guys expected their female partners to care for the children. When I asked the young men how they reconciled that prospect with the manifest low regard the market has for child care, they were mystified. Turning to the women who had spoken before, they said, uniformly, "But she chose it."
How dare a woman write a book! Back when civilization had some dignity to it you could always count on the Karen Blixens of the world to write under Isak Dinesen style pseudonyms. If I am going to read a book by a woman, the least she can do is pretend to be a George Eliot or other.