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Memory and forgetting

Bill:
Look, it's not so bad...

 

Bill:
All we need to do is sweep Baltimore...

 

Bill:
Uh, whoops!

 

Doug:
It's all kinds of effed up, guy.

 

Doug:
I mean the the more I talk about the Red Sox, the more I feel I haven't talked about the Red Sox.

 

Doug:
And this "lacking talking" presses on me.

 

Doug:
The morning aftah games, there was once a great bland pleasure, a lewd laughing repetition of location.

 

Doug:
Now I'm afraid to laugh, afraid to repeat myself, as though something new, something bettah needed to be said.

 

Bill:
Do you think this is what Dostoyevsky meant by "the comical absence of the comical"?

 

Doug:
Yes, it's the world of humorless laughtah, where we are condemned to live.

 

Comments

Notes:


Doug's first long speech is a twist on the Oct. 23, 1996 entry from Joe Wenderoth's superb Letters to Wendy's (and a work which was a major inspiration for whole Soxaholix concept).


Doug's final speech is taken from a line Milan Kundera uses in his recent collection of essays, Encounter, to describe the space inhabited by Dostoyevsky's fictional characters.

Hi everyone. It’s good to see you. Love you, love the show. I thought I’d write about the end of the Red Sox Season, which I witnessed last night. Daniel Nava was pinch-hitting in the top of the 7th. Men on 2d and 3rd. two outs. Strike three called. End of season. I happened to see it whilst ripping through DVR’d “Rescue Me” episodes. Not a bad show, but Penis Leary can’t act for shit. Funny guy, though. Too bad they killed off the kid. [Spoiler Alert] Good times. By the way, nobody looks better in an adult diaper than Josh Beckett, let’s be honest. Joe C. sounds like someone eviscerated his cat whist still living—stabbed by Foulke indeed. It’s sad when the highlight of the radio broadcast is the opening bumper with past glories. Fisk’s homerun never goes foul. Nothing to see here folks, just fans disguised as empty seats at Camden Yards. What happened, anyway? So full of hope, youth beckons, the season stretches before us, and now this sadness, unquenched desire and yet another month to go. The Celtics are old, the Bruins are Czechs and the Patriots will not do shit. Giselle has a nice rack, I guess.


Humbly,

lc

Nice one, h.b! Big fan of Kundera (especially "The Joke"), glad to see him worked in here.

I'm sad to see Delcarmen go to the Rockies- but only because I'm a sucker for the "local kid makes it to the team he always rooted for" angle.

Fork meet Sox ;(

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, now playing the role of Raskolnikov...


Lou Clinton...ton ton ton ton.....


Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, this is depressing. I am starting to understand cutters: self-harm borne from the desire to feel something, anything. But as if she can sense my Percy Walker-esque malaise, Tess brings me her stuffed hedgehog to play with, and life is all of sudden much better. Dogs are the best.

One more thought: once we've exhausted our Sox melancholy, we can always turn our attention to something much more fun: salt yum!

The laughter isn't entirely humourless. It's more like taking small pleasure in own misfortune; a perverse reversal of schadenfreude. But not unlike the screams of a masochist, our laughter masks deeper feelings. Yes, we laugh when we slip on the ice and fall. Not because we think it's funny, but rather to demonstrate to those watching that we don't take ourselves too seriously. In a sense, we gather here and joke even in times of deep dispair to show Skankee fans and others how resilent and unfazed we are. Our humourless laughter becomes the voice of Ego, lending a hand to our fallen spirit. Or as Vonnegut said, "Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward."

But is the quote from Dostoevsky, or from Kundera on Dostoevsky? http://www.zokster.net/drupal/node/7793

This team throws balls away as if that was the object of the game.

Yes, yes, right. That one is actually another Kundera on Dost. My brain cramp.

more importantly, Raskolnikov is mentioned in The Mountain Goats song "Love Love Love" from their 2005 album The Sunset Tree.


alternatively,

lc

I haven't forgotten the Salty Yum t-shirt version either.

Wise insights, Bob.


Speaking of humor, Bob Ryan's article about Clemens in today's Globe is a comical take on the Rocket's pleading innocent.


The Sox' recent stumblings don't have me laughing or crying. I'm trying to numb the disappointment with excessive alcohol. ;)

Also be warned. There may be another September bleg.


Remember last year when Lisa the Temp wanted an Aeron chair?


Well, now that little gold digger wants an iPad!


Christ, some people...

I laugh therefore I am.

By the way, the 10-year old who sings opera on America's Got Talent is going to be a Disney Princess in about 15 years. I'm guessing Cinderella at Walt Disney World.


In the meantime, I think we need to thank the Blue Jays for beating the Rays last night. I mean, they were trying to help us out even if we refused to take the help. It's the least we can do for them.

By the way, the 10-year old who sings opera on America's Got Talent is going to be a Disney Princess in about 15 years. I'm guessing Cinderella at Walt Disney World.


In the meantime, I think we need to thank the Blue Jays for beating the Rays last night. I mean, they were trying to help us out even if we refused to take the help. It's the least we can do for them.

Awesome...I get to be today's double-poster.

Kaz, your unwavering optimism is inspiring. Like you, I am a glass-half full type of guy. However, when the glass is nearly empty and is leaking...

What?? We're not going to have MDC to kick around anymore? ;(

Hard times in the city
In a hard town by the sea
Ain't nowhere to run to
There ain't nothin' here for free

Lisa will really like the ipad. Got one about a month ago. Its a little big to hold up to your ear, but really productive otherwise. And Lisa will have pictures of salt yum at her fingertips wherever she goes. in my fantasy, she digs that. a lot.


I don't really want to talk about the Redsox right now.

I finally gave up at the end of the TB series, but last night was a nice follow-up just to reassure me it was true.

We mortals, however, do not come up to this standard. When misfortunes appear on the horizon, we exaggerate them from sheer fright, and when they are right upon us we exaggerate them once more because of the pain they cause us. These feelings impel us to blame circumstances when what we ought to be blaming is a deficiency in our own character.

-Cicero, Discussions at Tusculum

the implication being, perhaps, that being a Redsox fan is a deficiency of character? If so, then fuck Cicero and the goat he rode in on.

Hey!

Oh and Jesus, I meant Walker Percy. My freshman Expos teacher would not be impressed with me....

Hey Goat!, this whole season has been one big goat rope. How'd you get out? Is your nickname MDC?

at least the dread locked Manny and a nice wind named Earl are coming to town this weekend. That should be fun, sort of.


I'm with LarryE and the booze numbing approach.


Anyone want my tickets to Sox/A's game on the 12th? Painful.

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