Watching Demetri Martin on the Daily Show last night, it occurred to me why so much of my writing turns out bitter and angry, and not sufficiently surreal, not adequately absurd (also without enough alliteration. Gosh I love words that share first letters).
I spend too much time reading about sports.
Is there no more bitter population than sports fans? Read Kissing Suzy Kolber. Read With Leather. Sure, there's nuttiness there. But mostly it's couched in furious bitterness, especially towards Boston. Not that its fans are undeserving, but they're not worth the obsession. Sure, I hate annoying Red Sox fans, and the Patriots are simply disdainful of the normal boundaries of excellence on the football field. But come on, people! Wouldn't you rather enjoy watching Steven and Stephen yell at each other?
Or checking out what Demetri Martin has to say about wearing white? I know I do.
In all fairness, though, there is FreeDarko, successfully bridging the gap between highfalutin nonsense and professional athletics. See, e.g., their preview of every single NBA player.
So from now on, we're going to do a little more batshit insanity, a little less road rage. Unless the Bears continue their sucking. In which case I will sneak into Cedric Benson's house in the middle of the night, and smother him with his My Little Pony pillow. He may sleep the sleep of angels, but when he dies he'll spend eternity with Satan. No-yardage-gaining son of a bitch.