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Busted Dreams, Broken Heart:
My Adventures with World Cup Fever

Who would have thought it? In terms of all the people you know who might get seriously addicted to watching sports, I'm probably at the bottom of the list -- if I make the list at all. That changed this summer as the World Cup grabbed my attention match after match. Granted, I used to play soccer, but I've never been that into watching it -- watching it on tv anyway. Live is a whole other story.

At first I stayed away from it, as I was teaching five days a week and trying to do some of my own work at the same time. I couldn't afford to get sucked it, so I just didn't watch. Things started out slowly -- watching the Brazil Ghana game a few weeks ago before I had to teach. Then things started to snowball... The France Spain game was amazing -- probably my favorite of the entire tournament. It was aggressive, but very clean. No dirty plays, no real fouls, no diving. An exemplary game of soccer. By the time the Brazil Germany game rolled around, I was starting to learn the players' names. B. was Tivo-ing games if I had to teach, so that we could watch them later. Let's just be plain about it: I got obsessed. France became my favorite after the France Spain match due to their excellent play, and the speed and skills of players like Ribery and Henry. I wanted the final to be Germany France, and was pretty crushed when Italy beat Germany in the semis. I went to our local indie theater, who were playing the broadcasts on a huge screen (in HD no less), and after the game ended, I sat there with my hands covering my mouth for a good two minutes. After those crazy scores in the second half of overtime...I was shocked. Yes, great shots, to be sure. But I was a bit broken up. Way more upset than I'd ever expected. Yes, I was the one they focus on after the match on tv who seems both shocked and truly upset. When had I become this person?

I was even excited about the third place match (Germany Portugal). Goddamn, what a match! This reinforced my thoughts that the final should have been Germany France (in addition to the fact that Germany was hosting the tourney.) The captain of Germany's team (Michael Ballack) wasn't playing because he was injured...but it didn't matter. The combination of Klose, Podolski, and Schweinsteiger was INCREDIBLE. Schweinsteiger had 3 goals (one of which was sort of an own-goal on the part of Portugal, but off of Schweinsteiger)...and both Podolski (Gillette Best Young Player) and Klose (adidas Golden Shoe) got awards based upon their play in the tournament.

You can't even imagine what watching the final was like. I got to the theater crazy early to get seats, and I was glued to the action from minute one. Hell, I was glued to the goddamn pre-game show. When Henry got hit in the head within the first minute of the match, my heart almost stopped. I was wowed by his footwork throughout the game (mad fakes!) as well as the same on the part of Ribery. Check out this crazy scissorhands move that Henry did after a sweet fake:

http://fifaworldcup.yahoo.com/06/en/w/photos/index.html?aid=406926&d=1

I couldn't believe it when the game went to overtime. Slowly, the players that I have come to l0ve were subbed out...Henry, Ribery, and Vieira after an injury. Then the Zinedine Zidane fiasco happened, in which he headbutted an Italian player during the 110'. Awful. I'm sure that he was talking all kinds of smack. It even looked like the Materazzi was tugging on his injured shoulder. But his reaction, during the last game of his career (allegedly), as team captain, when his team really needed him was awful. I've gotten into arguments with people about this already. I thought I was ready to talk about the match, but clearly, I was wrong. If anyone else suggests that this was "awesome," they need to have their heads examined. And, as well, if anyone suggests that Italy deserved to win the game...France dominated the entire match, and even after Double-Zed was red carded, they still didn't give up a goal to Italy, even though they were down by a man. France had so many more shots, and much better possession especially in the second half, when the team really gelled. Italy wasn't even making shots!!! To have France lose in a penalty shoot out is heartbreaking. Yes, Italy have a much better goal keeper (Buffon), and France's Barthez made me nervous almost the entire match. Sure, I see how the game got to the point where Italy won. Am I still upset about it? Yep. Sure am. France outplayed Italy and still didn't win the game. I think I'll be upset about this for a good while.

 
"It's deep how you can be so shallow
And I'm afraid because I have no fear"


-- Gnarls Barkley, "Who Cares?"

 
After Ice, Tee Shirts and Visors, Pizza

So after all this business with the Iceman, I try to do some translation work -- which was partially accomplished, but partially too depressing on a Saturday to think about. I went to my "office," which is really just a glorified desk with a computer next to it. It's like Office Space, only it's filled with grad students during the year...a sea of gray prefab deskies or cubicles if you prefer. I find the weekends in this place to be the most soul-sucking of all, mostly because it's deserted and flourescently lit. During the summer, however, that's the case everyday. Somehow, it's a magnified soul-killing experience when you feel like singing "everybody's workin for the weekend" when it's really just a solo mission regarding the German that I can't quite read. Anyway, to get back to the story, I eventually do some work after the coffee and Blur situation. S. calls me and we go have some lunch and talk about lots of stuff, which was great, reversing the flaky feelings I'd had earlier. The day ends in madcap adventures at the artstore involving crazy checkered print visors, dinosaurs, and iron-on gear to make Morrissey tee shirts. It was lots of fun, but I also felt more than a little bit unhinged in the store. When we got back to S's, we watched a couple of episodes of My So-Called Life, including one of my personal favorites about a zit. Teen angst at its finest. 90s fashion and music! Hell, they used Enigma's "Return to Innocence" in that episode, if that doesn't speak of the time, I don't know what does. Anyone remember that video? The evening was capped off with pizza and making tee shirts. All I can say is: They shall think themselves accursed they were not here! What a day-day!

 
People are Funny and Amazing
"Tender is the touch / Of Someone that you love too much"

I walked into the coffeeshop that is my current haunt this morning, intent on getting a cup of joe before starting my day of translation work. My friend S. flaked on me in terms of our breakfast plans -- which was a minor irritation, since I drug my dumb ass outta bed even though I was tired, to have her cancel because she too was tired and headachy. Anyway, so I roll up to the coffeeshop, wearing what was probably an I'm having none of it look on my face. This guy who works there, who I call "Iceman"was there. Generally I have no patience for him. He seems pretty goofy and very unserious, but in a negative way. One time he got into a flirty ice fight with "Smiley," this girl who works there who is almost always in a bitchy mood. This ended in his tossing the ice back into the icemachine, which meant that I boycotted iced drinks or icewater for quite a while. Hence my dislike for the Iceman. Anyway, so I'm there, both Iceman and Smiley are working, and I'm irritated about breakfast and more than a few other things -- and I'm sure that I look it. Iceman goes to the cd player, and the tones of Blur's "Tender," come pouring from the speakers. I couldn't help but bust out a huge smile. That was exactly the song I needed to hear this morning, matching my mood in so many senses. And of all people, it was muthafuckin Iceman who made that happen. We shared a moment singing along gospel style to Damon Albarn and smiling. After fixing my coffee the way I like it, I thanked him for the song and left. People can really surprise you sometimes. Apparently the Iceman is much more perceptive than I'd given him credit for.

 
A list of many things: A response to Marty

Listening:
1. Brakes Give Blood (nice witty British boys I met at their instore...Good musicians, fun, but also totally sweet individuals. A dream of an experience. They talk smack about Dick Cheney and have a song called "All Night Disco Party." There also seems to be love of Johnny Cash.)
2. The Wedding Present Sea Monsters (all about heartache and breakups. Seems appropriate)
3. Maximo Park A Certain Trigger (a good wake up album. Also counteracts some of the bad feelings from #2, but not entirely. )
4. M.I.A. Arular (Dusting this one off to listen to in my car. Lots of dancy tracks.)
5. anything by the Smiths; Morrissey Vauxhall and I (all time greats. The Morrissey disc sports songs like "The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get," "Hold On to Your Friends," and "Find Out for Yourself," which I guess the Killers just covered.)
6. Gnarls Barkley St. Elsewhere (The cover of Violent Femmes' "Gone Daddy Gone" is totally hot.)
7. Various mixes of music in my possession.
8. Richard Hawley (if you don't know this dude, you ought to. Both Coles Corner and Lowedges are amazing. He was also in the band Longpigs back in the 90s -- I happened to catch them when they were opening for U2 back when it was their POPMART tour. I liked them then...but his solo stuff is really soulful and country-tinged. Hawley also played bass (?) in Pulp.)
9. Virginia Rodrigues Nos (Brazilian singer who is fucking amazing. This album is both danceable and melacholy, but with a stillness, if that makes any sense).

Reading:
1. Lots of stuff for the ethics class I'm teaching this summer. Right now, that involves Bentham and Mill. Soon we'll be on terrorism stuff, which is always controversial and a lot of fun to do.
2. Stuff for my German translation. It's on Dada, but only when I can get the sentences to make any damn sense.
3. I want to read this book by Alain Badiou on Marcus Aurelius -- no one seems to talk about him anymore -- and I've heard a talk on Badiou, so this is exciting. Also on deck Kant After Duchamp by Thierry de Duve, some books by WHT Mitchell and by Danto.

Watching:
1. David Lynch jag. Just got done rewatching the Twin Peaks series, which was, again amazing and frustrating in terms of how it all ends. Don't worry, I won't spoil anything. Also saw Blue Velvet on the big screen (even better than at home!), and Fire Walk With Me and Lost Highway. I think I'll have to rewatch Mulholland Drive soon.
2. In a weird connection, I think that Altman's latest, A Prairie Home Companion sports some Lynchian elements. At points the film was a bit slow, but there are certainly some great moments and great shots. The way Altman utilized mirroring in this film is pretty fantastic.
3. I need to finally watch Fellini's Satyricon, since I own it but have yet to watch it.
4. 2046 (one of my favorite films from the past year. Beautifully shot is the understatement of the year here.)

Doing:
1. Teaching
2. Playing some gigs this week...on the part of the tour I can swing while still being gainfully employed
3. There are a coupla art projects I need to tend to / both collage wise and painting wise. Hopefully I get a minute this week to indulge myself.
4. Going to shows. For sure the Brakes instore was great...there's another instore today, and maybe I'll get to see the Walkmen on Friday. They were fantastic the last time I saw them live about 2 years ago...but we'll see.
5. Still trying to figure some things out (when am I not).

 
Testing?

I'm just seeing if this works.

I read through the last couple of posts of mine, and it doesn't seem I've had a lot to say publicly as of late. I've been in a gathering phase, a re-reading moment where I look through the physical books of my writing and really see what I've been thinking and feeling. Even with the scant number of posts here over the past couple of months, the picture is growing clearer. Things are becoming evident...I'll let you know when I figure out what they are.

 
He won a big prize

That's how I ran across the name of Richard Wilbur. I guess he got $100,000. Anyway, so I decided to do a search on his poetry, and found this one. I particularly like the last two stanzas:


A Hole In The Floor
(for Rene Magritte)

The carpenter's made a hole
In the parlor floor, and I'm standing
Staring down into it now
At four o'clock in the evening,
As Schliemann stood when his shovel
Knocked on the crowns of Troy.

A clean-cut sawdust sparkles
On the grey, shaggy laths,
And here is a cluster of shavings
>From the time when the floor was laid.
They are silvery-gold, the color
Of Hesperian apple-parings.

Kneeling, I look in under
Where the joists go into hiding.
A pure street, faintly littered
With bits and strokes of light,
Enters the long darkness
Where its parallels will meet.

The radiator-pipe
Rises in middle distance
Like a shuttered kiosk, standing
Where the only news is night.
Here's it's not painted green,
As it is in the visible world.

For God's sake, what am I after?
Some treasure, or tiny garden?
Or that untrodden place,
The house's very soul,
Where time has stored our footbeats
And the long skein of our voices?

Not these, but the buried strangeness
Which nourishes the known:
That spring from which the floor-lamp
Drinks now a wilder bloom,
Inflaming the damask love-seat
And the whole dangerous room.

--Richard Wilbur