I have to be honest: I’ve been through so many snow-teases that I tend to ignore them. Now I’m looking at a radar image that shows snow falling all over the Mitten, but not here. Maybe it’s coming this way, maybe it isn’t. I’m going to bed and saying the hell with it.
And as suspected, we had about two inches overnight. Two. And there’s a snow day, in a district that was notorious for years for one thing — no snow days, ever. So here we are, the snow needs a-blowin’, and what do I have? A lot of good links.
Dave Kindred on the last days of Muhammed Ali, not in the sense that he’s on his way out (although he could be), but on the last days of all great boxers. I will say this: There’s something about boxing that inspires great sportswriting. It’s a dying sport, although it may well prevail, simply by flying below a certain radar. I hear a lot these days about football, that it’ll be gone in a generation because of the head-injury issue. You don’t hear that about boxing, perhaps because there are fewer people involved, and fighters are frequently bottom-of-the-barrel types who don’t practice their sports under the auspices of a college or university. Frank DeFord, the Sports Illustrated sage, famously washed his hands of boxing a while back, although I’m sure he’d be proud to have an essay this good published under his byline. Your good read for the day.
Everybody posted that Funny or Die parody of the “God made a farmer” ad, but just in case you missed it, you can find it here.
Gene Weingarten on how the internet is changing writing. My favorite:
3. The Rise of the Sillyble, or extraneous syllable. In pre-Internet days we saw this with the pointless tacking on of “ir” to “regardless,” creating a brand-new word meaning, uh, “regardless.” The Web has accelerated this process. “Preventative” has just about overtaken “preventive,” to mean “preventive.” “Orientate” is moving up on “orient” to mean “orient.” There is work yet to be done, though: The Web reveals that “ironical” has just begun its assault on the summit of Mount Ironic. We wish it Godspeed.
Thanks, Charlotte, for finding this, because I might have missed it: The guy who lives in the old Packard plant.
I wanted to send someone a clip from “Babe: Pig in the City,” a favorite from Kate’s young years. I couldn’t find it — it’s the one where the pink poodle says her humans had cast her aside for someone younger and prettier — but I did find this AVClub essay about the film. I remember at the time of its release, how badly it flopped, and how one critic observed, wryly, “You don’t hear the word ‘dark’ used often in discussing children’s films.” And yet, it is so wonderful, in so many ways. I just loved it.
Finally, while I don’t approve of the legal strategy of suing a hosting company over objectionable internet content, I’m glad someone is taking some kind of action against the purveyors of so-called revenge porn. It beats a bullet, anyway.
Off to fire up that blower. Have a good weekend, all.