/ Chat / Games, Sport /
Worship: seems to be a trait humans have in common. We are easily convinced that worship of a creator god is the right thing to do. We took that from the Jews, among other sources. From the Greeks we get epic, tragedy heroes: rapists and raiders, killers en masse: heroes. Achilles, yay!
As a kid my sister and I were ready to jump out of our skin to hear one word of the Joe Louis fight on the radio, way past our bedtime. By the time I was in the army I was having apoplexy over Cassius Clay taunting Sonny Liston: Sonny Liston, he’s got to be c-r-a-z-y!
As a kid kids around me were tearing their clothes, gnashing their teeth — just like all those patriarchs — over the Dodgers getting beat by the Yanks, again. I don’t remember anyone setting the Bronx on fire, but Brooklyn burned regularly. (Real fans would have gone and burned LA.)
But never mind, that’s just scene setter. I just watched a sports interview that left me limp as a rag: Roddick interviewing Federer.
When the feds destroyed my K. domains after arresting and jailing me, adding censorship to their pile of crimes, it would have been obvious to anybody that I worshipped Federer. Roddick, no. Though in jail, summer of 2007, Jesup Ga, I came to worship Federer the more. The blacks dominated the TV selections, but if neither Venus nor Serena were on, you might catch a glimpse of some other players. I caught some important Federer moments.
Anyway, watch this interview. Roddick looks very handsome, I’d never noticed him looking half so good: something funny about his body, his posture, his service motion … his beady eyes. But here he’s pure gorgeous, as is of course as usual, Federer. Anyhow: Andy tells of their Wimbledon final. Five sets, heroic, followed by heroic. Andy says he went back to his locker, devastated. After a bit the Fed arrives with his team. Andy says that there was a little bit of fist pumping, celebrating, a very little bit only. Andy says the Fed was being considerate: of his slam-busted feelings!
Fed confirmed. Yes, of course he was happy; but he was also aware of how very unhappy Rod must be!
God bless you, merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay.
Understand, prisoners have no right to watch TV: except at certain limited times. And then channel selection is supposed to be democratic: the majority is supposed to rule. Ha, ha. Imagine a real anthropologist studying a jail, not some sycophant. Theoretically a prisoner was supposed to be able to ask the guards to break any monopoly of the dial. But no guard was going to go near a room full of blacks gorging themselves on Serena. Me neither, I yielded with all the other non-blacks, got my revenge imagining them getting eaten alive by the Cubans in Miami.
If all was well there were times when we were allowed across the yard to the recreation complex. There an array of TVs offered an array of programs: though there was no sound coming from any of them. Still, there was some baseball, there was some NBA, and come July some Wimbledon. But for sound you had to be back at the dorm: and if you were, you watched whatever the blacks were watching. Or you could search for the cowering guards.
The blacks didn’t wait for Django Unchained to get some revenge!