Welcome to the summer sports doldrums. I actively despise baseball, I've only a casual interest in tennis, and though I like basketball I disdain the N.B.A. (and in any event their season's just wrapped up); so, from where I sit basketball's been through since the end of March Madness in, curiously, April. (Kind of like how very nearly all of Oktoberfest is in September. Lunacy!) The over-long hockey season is at an end, and what a dispiriting end 'twas, and there are yet several months before I can stomach any talk of football. What E.S.P.N. and the No Fun League seem not to grasp is that one of the major draws of football is its scarcity: games are played in only a fraction of the year, whetting the appetite during the lengthy off-season. N.F.L. Live is broadcast all the year 'round, a farce is ever there was one. So, even with my budding fandom of motorsport, specifically Formula One and the sacred 24 Hours of Le Mans, summer is still the least sporting time of the year, after a fashion. There nothing for it, and the annual ritual of complaining does nothing to remedy the shortage, but it is a tradition on its own right, and tradition is important. So, welcome to the summer sports doldrums. Pull up a chair and have a lemonade.

Obamboozled
We can, however, still argue about politics, what with our charlatan president's plan to socialize the health care system and place an empathetic soft-racist on the Supreme Court. Plus, fun and games in exotic Persia. But not tonight, my sleep schedule is still screwed up from Le Mans and I'm tired (and whiny, he added with a wink) from mowing the lawn this late afternoon/evening. Plenty of time to mock our charlatan president later.

The Rebel Black Dot Song of the Day
John Linnell, "Montana" from State Songs (T.L.A.M.)

Commentary:

"Now I get it.
I'll tell the person next to me,
And then haul off and die."