Random Thoughts: Olympics

by E. Robertson

Some random thoughts about the summer Olympics:

• What is the deal with tandem diving? I'm sorry, but tandem diving should not be an Olympic event. Diving, yes. Tandem diving, no. What next, tandem gymnastics? Tandem equestrian? Any sport can be made into another sport by changing the parameters in some way. Like basketball? You'll love 2-on-2 basketball, which is played on concrete. That's right, it's not played on wood, but on concrete. It'll blow your mind. We call it outdoor basketball. It is so very different from regular basketball that it deserves its own medal. Like judo? Then you'll love water judo. Like marathon? Then you'll love the 25-mile marathon. Like archery? Then surely you'll love tandem historical archery. Competitors are judged not only on how close they are to the bullseye but on how much they look like Robin Hood and Little John. Competitors must also donate any medals and endorsements to the poor.


• Rhythmic gymnastics. That's right, not a sport. Get it outta there. Rule: if your sport has the same name as another sport but with an adjective added, it's not a sport. Diving: sport. Tandem diving: not a sport. Basketball: sport. Lefthanded basketball: not a sport. Rowing: sport. Methodical rowing: not a sport. Tennis: sport. Table tennis: also a sport, because table is a noun, not an adjective.


• Trampoline. Not a sport. Sorry. Get it outta there. This was made up by teenage boys about 12 years ago.


• Al Trautwig, the commentator for the gymnastics, needs to have his voicebox shut down. Fully 100 percent of what he says is hyperbole. Honestly, listen to him. He seems to have no idea that it is possible to use words like "sometimes" or "apparently" to qualify his assertions. I should qualify myself: Trautwig sometimes says things that are not hyperbolic, but in such cases he says things that are completely obvious or moronic.

Random Thoughts: Favre's Return to NFL

by E. Robertson

If you follow sports to any degree whatsoever, you have been bored to death in recent weeks with the ongoing saga of Brett Favre, who unretired from professional football, wanted to return to the Packers, and was just traded to the Jets. The most obnoxious part of the media coverage of this endless tale is that no one can manage to call him by only his first name or his last name. Everyone has to call him "Brett Favre," as nauseam. Folks, let's try just using "Favre" on second reference. Or, if you actually know him, use his first name. Or try a friggin' pronoun. That's what they're there for. Trust me, we know who you are talking about.

Children's Corner: Those Crazy Ants!

Editor's note: This occasional column, penned by our own Cub Walters, is addressed to the many beloved children who read this publication. "Oh, to be a child again, just for one night!"

Dear child, surely you have seen an ant before and wondered about this magical little creature? Where is it going, and how can it carry such large items, considering how teeny-weeny it is?

Indeed, ants are among the strongest of all the animal kingdom. Consider the case of little Timmy, a boy about your age. One day he fell asleep at a picnic, where the ants were swarming to a delicious watermelon. His parents left him to talk under a nearby tree.

Some while later, Timmy woke up in a terrible situation. His entire body was buried in an anthill, with only his nose, eyes, and the top of his head above the sand. The ants had carried him away to their kingdom of sand, as if he were some ancient slave stolen away from his family by a conquering race! Millions of fire ants like the one shown here swarmed over his dreadfully exposed head, and at that close vantage point each of them looked gigantic and ghastly to our young friend. The hairs on their legs were like giant barbs, and their beady eyes were disgusting, like huge brown pies. Their hairy mouths were most fearsome, and Timmy tried to scream, but sand filled his mouth. Meanwhile, the searing summer sun beat down on his head in the cruel and arbitrary way of Mother Nature.

Finally, his mommy and daddy saw his predicament and saved him. After some hugs and kisses, Timmy got more or less better, but even to this day Timmy has extremely disturbing nightmares.

Oh, my child, what crazy creatures these interesting little ants are!

Health and Safety Tip: Hotel Bed Checks

Editor's note: Columnist Gomorrah Tides is a former Black Ops operative and a part-time ship's chandler.

According to the U.S. Department of Statistics, 2.3 million Americans were murdered last year in hotel rooms in the United States. Of these, more than three-fourths were murdered in their sleep in cold blood by someone who hid under the bed until the victim was sound asleep.

LAPD police sergeant Charlie Deuce, whose homicide group has investigated more than 300,000 such crimes in the 12 years of his administration, says there "is one thing, and one thing only" that travelers can do to avoid becoming the next victims of such a crime.

"Check under your bed first thing when you check into the room," he says. "And then check under the bed when you return to the room. And even if you just go to the bathroom to take a shower or use the head, check under the bed when you go back into the main room. Just look under there and make sure no one's under there."

Criminals who hide under hotel beds are "quiet and fast as a snake," Deuce says. "They are like magicians, like Fred Copperfield or whatever-the-frig-his-name-is. They could get into your room and under the bed even if you and 20 judges had the bed surrounded."

However, Deuce says, such criminals are generally not dangerous until the victim is actually asleep. "Yeah, for reasons we don't really know, if you find one of these dudes under you bed, you just have to ask him nicely to leave. Something like, 'Come on, man, we see you under there. Come on out.' But then you have to make sure he actually leaves your room. Sometimes they'll say, 'Yeah, yeah, okay, I'll leave,' then they'll slip back under there with intent to kill you."

It's only when the victim is asleep that these criminals turn into killers. So don't fear. Just be sure to check under your hotel bed—and have a great vacation!

Minotaur Saith: Sensory Experiences

Editor's note: Occasionally we feature the actual sayings of Korbin Minotaur, a justice of the peace residing in an undisclosed jurisdiction in rural Utah, United States of America. Though these sayings are mere dictum, the wise will give them the force of law in their own lives.

Quoth Minotaur:

"There be three remembrances of sensory experiences that are most heightened in the annals of my brains and heart.

"The first of these be the memory of Madge after she was accidentally soaked in tire wet. This was, above all, a feast for the nostrils.

"Second, there be the memory of the hairless armpits of many a friend, many an acquaintance.

"Lastly and third, there be the sweet remembrance, like unto me a puff of hickory smoke or the rubbing of a swath of familiar curduroy, of the sound of the word Goshute, uttered by me as I readeth aloud mine own history of the natives of this state."