And Now For Something Completely Safe (For Children)

A lot drove the internets crazy this weekend, and it didn't let up when the week started.

After numerous online and regular-life talking about it, I'm too drenched to even attempt to write about the Woody Allen rape thing (did he do it? did he not?), except to say this: we don't know, and there are no facts proving nor disproving. It's more moral to believe the victim than the accused, which is why we have courtrooms and legal systems, but people's opinions on this matter are just a reflection of their own prejudices. I'm trying not to have any. So I'm taking a rain check on this one.

I will, however, go ''light'' and talk about the Super Bowl halftime show, starring Bruno Mars and featuring the Red Hot Chili Peppers, doing the opposite of lip-synching - instrument-synching:

Flea explained today that having live bands play is too much of an intangible for the NFL (unlike, say, a quarterback sack that would concuss a player and have him removed from the game, obliterating his team's chances of winning, or a half-hour power outage), so they use play-back for the instruments and only go live with the vocals - and the Chili Peppers deliberately chose not to pretend to plug in out of respect for their fans.

But playing with - and second fiddle to - Bruno Mars was ok with their fans?

The NFL should wise up and learn from this, and have bands go live. Or just go all-out theater and run scenes from Macbeth or re-enact Al Panico's speech from Any Given Sunday. Or just show more fucking ads, it's what most people are tuning in to see anyway.

Super Bowl Sunday Picks

I'm confused: one chimp predicted the Pittsburgh Steelers would win, but another one said it'd be the Green Bay Packers. But an elephant chose the Steelers. That's good enough for me. Plus, black over green any day.

Oh, wait, this elephant picks the Packers.

Fuck. These animals are terrible football experts.

Super Bowl XLIII Aftermath

Well, there were fine points, and there were wrong points.

It took three quarters for the game to start meaning anything, and for the players to start showing some passion and emotion - except the guy who ran for a hundred yards, that was pretty spectacular.

For the second straight year, it was down to the wire and only decided in the final couple of minutes. Too bad the wrong team won. There is no way Ben Roethlisberger should have his name mentioned in the same sentence as Joe Montana, Tom Brady and John Elway, but such a thing will become inevitable now that he has won two Super Bowls in his first 5 years as starting quarterback, despite never having been named the game's MVP, and showing dismal stats. Kurt Warner outdid him in every way, yet fell a few points short. Maybe had he given Larry Fitzgerald the ball a little earlier on, he might have had a shot.

But that's also the good news, isn't it? The Steelers won by too few points, so by Vegas standards, anyone who chose the Cardinals ends up a big, big winner. Predictions-wise, for wins and losses, I'm at a disappointing 1-2, but where the money is concerned, this past Super Sunday was a complete success, and I'm 2-1 with the spreads. That's what rules about football: the game itself is like a hard-hitting chess game where the fewest mistakes might give you a win for which the TV network bring in the most side-entertainment and most analysts to pass the time, but you can also end up on the winning side of a bet even after a loss.

I'm so happy with my weekend that I feel like watching another game soon; too bad the Pro Bowl is the next game coming. What a snore-fest that is. The worst All Star Game in pro sports.

Super Bowl XLIII Invitation

A mere hours before The Game, and a hockey game to watch first. Super Bowl Sunday is the best day for a true sports fan - especially when the main attraction isn't a one-sided affair that falls in the hands of a team you hate.

In the spirit of full disclosure, here's an invitation I sent to my friend Nibble Mark, who had been sick of late.

Feeling better? Bettered? Battered? Buttered?


It's Super Bowl weekend, which means it's legal, just for one day, to overindulge in fatty, sweet, salty and poppy foods and drinks to the point of heart-attackism - and, on Super Sunday, it's illegal for your heart to attack! (from what I have gathered through 42 years of watching the Big Game and having seen it evolve from a sporting event into one of ultramegasuperconsumerism - and from the way Homer behaves on any Simpsons Super Bowl Specials)

This takes place around suppertime, 5 or 6-ish, and lasts until 8 or 9-ish because the Half Time show will likely feature some has-been showing us a bit of skin to try to outsell Britney Spears (I'm hoping for Tina Turner, would settle for Beyoncé, praying it's not Sting - last year was McCartney, John Lennon's old retarded chubby friend)

Not to be left out, Les Habitants battle the Bruins at 2PM to make it the Ultimate Couch Sporting Event of the weekend. Which means I'll be making some spicy chicken wings and/or purchasing fried chicken from a place I love. Doritos might try to come in my house as well, but I'm not sure the Tostitos-mozzarella cheese-actual Mexican salsa combo who are picketing in front of my oven waiting for execution will let them. There are rumours that squishy candies will make an appearance, but this has yet to be confirmed by their PR commitee.

I just thought it could be a good time to come see your new TV (still awaiting your manly touch in my basement) and mooch some food so I don't gain a thousand pounds (of muscle) from this Sporting Event. Bring a friend - I have none myself.

This being that, the Invitation is now lauchned into cyberspace, cowboy. Let me know if you're interesting (as the Chinese say).


Le Seb

Well, he should be here any minute now. The hockey game's starting. My money's on the Habs, of course. Smart money will stay clear of this one.

Super Bowl XLIII

Well, it's upon us. The most important game of the year. The reason you bought an HD TV.

For the third time since Hunter S. Thompson's timely demise, I am attempting to fill the void he has created by voicing my opinion on this year's Big Game. So far, I am 1-1, and last year's defeat has cost me huge.

Football, unlike hockey, basketball and baseball, holds its Final in a one-game Super event. And, like on any given Sunday, anything can happen. We saw that last year, when the New York Giants, who had barely made the playoffs, beat the perfect-season-having New England Patriots in the final minutes of the game.

Again this year, a true underdog, the Arizona Cardinals, face off against the heavily-favoured Pittsburgh Steelers, who are going for a league-leading sixth title with the best defense in the league. And, apparently, defense wins championships. Even Barack Obama is rooting for the Steelers - they can't lose.

But they will. In a best-of-seven series, yes, the cream eventually likely rises to the top, but in a winner-takes-all one-game finale, the team that wants it the most and that commits the fewest mistakes wins. And after over a hundred years of messing up, these guys know this is their only chance at ever winning a Super Bowl.

They have a Super Bowl MVP in Kurt Warner, and an unstoppable force in receiver Larry Fitzgerald. Warner is far superior to his overrated adversary Big Ben Roethlisberger, and no one will be able to touch Fitzgerald, who broke an old Jerry Rice record just last week. Yes, he is that good.

The Steelers' only hope is to get through the Cardinals' offensive line and injure Warner. If he has even a second to find Fitzgerald, the game could turn ugly very fast. Most Las Vegas bookies are giving the Steelers a 6-to-10 point edge in the spread. Worst case scenario is you'll need it, and that would make it a nice, tight game in which logic and common wisdom will have prevailed.

But if all goes well, Cinderella will realize that the shoe fits and we'll have an interesting and spectacular game instead, one that will make a betting man rich.