Tebow may not have enough…for now, from Yahoo! Sports

I have never been a big Tebow fan.  My dislike for Tebow is born of my hatred for the SEC, BCS and my belief that Urban Meyer is a fraud that will eventually be discovered.  So by association my hatorade addiction makes me not like Tebow, and believe that he wont be as successful in the NFL as he has been in the NCAA.  His numbers are good, there is no doubt he is the most dominant college quarterback out there, but his game might not translate to the next level.  His numbers have decreased over the last three years.  He’s quick and agile, but his game will be shut down in the NFL.  It will take a few hits by Ray Ray or other headhunters to make Tebow look like a retired boxer in their 50’s by the time he is only 28.  His numbers secure him a place in the first round.  He will go to a team that already has a healthy quarterback, and possibly a good back up quarterback.  He will hold the clipboard and learn from the pros.  We might not see him play this next season, or the one after (at least not in regular season games when there’s a chance to win), but he will play at the next level.  His mechanics will be reworked, and he’ll be a starter.  I will hold off for a couple more years to see if my suspicion of Meyers is right:that he can lead a good college team, but he makes piss poor professional quarterbacks.  I wish Tebow the best of luck.  Of course Tebow has a good head on his shoulders and just in general is a good guy, if the whole NFL thing doesn’t work he will always make it somewhere else, I think he’ll make a hell of a megachurch pastor

Some NFL scouts have given up on Tebow. Does that make sense? - Dr. Saturday - NCAAF Blog - Yahoo! Sports

Matthews:Candidate for D Bag of the Decade

Chris Matthews, who is a serious early contender for the D bag of the decade award has jumped ahead of the competition with his analysis of President Obama’s State of the Union address. If Obama is able to win another term, Matthews is a shoe in for being the D Bag of the decade. I mean 8 years of Matthews falling over himself and gushing like a little girl whenever he hears Obama speak. At first what I believed to be was Matthews just being the gayest man without actually being homosexual, with the “thrill” that shot up his leg when he heard Obama speak at the DNC in Denver back in ‘08, has turned into just reckless douche baggery. After Obama’s speech Matthews commented, “I forgot he was black.” Or in other words “if I close my eyes, I’d swear that n- was white.” What Matthews said was absurd, and just down right stupid. If this had been a conservative white pundit the media would be looking for the tallest tree and the shortest rope to hang this fool. But because Matthews is unabashed in his gushing love for Obama, we just console ourselves knowing, that Matthews is Matthews, and he’s just a D Bag. As Matthews was trying to say something insightful and be overly dramatic as he typically is, he revealed a serious flaw in American thinking in regards to race. To comment on how a black man is articulate or doesn’t carry that negro dialect is backwards and uncovers our still divisive thinking and stereotyping. Matthews needs to restrain himself and gain some self control when he talks about Obama, and he needs to look in the mirror recognize the buried racist that lives within himself, the same one that lives within many people and just try not to be such a D Bag.

Matthews' remark exposes complexity of 'transcending race' - Yahoo! News

Eat that Favre, and go home.

That's right, Brett, just leave your jersey and jock strap at the door, get your Wranglers, collect your check and ride your tractor back home. Luckily your not far from your Louisiana home. You had a shot, you could have made it, you got so close. But close doesn't count. You showed us your typical self, you were able to out throw Brees by over a hundred yards, but again your cowboy showboating ways proved to be your achilles. Those two interceptions certainly hurt your chances of making it to the big show. Favre, there's no doubt you are a great athlete. But you have proved to be more of a liability than an asset. You might have rallied your troops to get this far, but you couldn't seal the deal. I ask that you please don't drag this out, just announce your retirement, ink a deal with FOX, or NBC to be a commentator. We know you love the attention, why else would you drag out your illustrious carrier to the point where it's becoming a circus. No longer do we say, "wow, that Favre, what a great quarterback!" Instead we just look and say, "damn he's good for being so old!" Those two statements mean two different things. Do we still think you are one of the best? Sure you still have the few faithful blind who will follow you until you play for the Raiders, and say you are still great as you try to teach Jemarcus Russell how to love and play the game right. But you're not a top tier player. Look at the team you left last season, the Jets, with a much less seasoned quarterback corps, and they made it just as far as you. Please Favre, just go home, it's hard, I understand. Cultivate another skill, take up another hobby. Anything! Just leave your great career alone, let it stand, and leave the NFL, ESPN, and FOX alone, so the commentators there can heal their broken hearts that you wont be coming back, and they will have rebounded by the time they get back to work in August.

Obama could bust the BCS with Broncos - College Football - Rivals.com

I came across this page, and it is brilliant.  Without doing any official political maneuvering, he can upset the entire BCS syndicate in one simple gesture.  While terrorists are hiding bombs next to their junk, and the economy is making slow Lazarus like awakening, and wars and rumors of wars rumble throughout the Middle East, it would be the wrong time for the President or Congress to take on the BCS through legislative means.  This would not be the first time that President Obama has lent his name and fame to collegiate sports.  When he made out his bracket for the NCAA Basketball Tournament, it was carried live to homes all over and then rebroadcast on the major network evening news.  As President, he doesn’t need to push for there to be call to action, but really by just inviting them to the White House for a meet and greet would a be sign that he is backing the change to the BCS.

The next question is should BSU be considered the National Champions? I would say, “no”.  Should the be ranked number 4?  No.  They should be ranked at least number 3, if not number 2. 

Alabama is the undisputed champion this season.  The thing that separates Alabama and Boise is the schedule.  Boise had no real key wins this season.  Of course Boise is caught between a rock and a hard place.  They play in the WAC, one of the weakest conferences, in division I.  Their nonconference games are played against smaller and weaker schools.  This is not because BSU has not attempted to play the bigger schools, its just that the bigger schools refuse to play BSU.  The schools that belong to the Big Six want to pad their schedule with what they deem to be weak teams, or even teams from the division II.  They look to get as many wins as possible so they pick the low hanging fruit, those smaller programs that are looking for the money the big schools offer and the national publicity, even if it is humiliating.  Schools in the Big Six dont want to touch the likes of BSU, TCU, Utah and other big schools from the outside conferences.  These schools are too tough, and they do nothing for the Big Six records.

Back to my point though about Alabama, its only right that they be the champions, they had to beat the likes of Florida, and other top tier teams of the SEC, as well as beat Texas.  BSU’s only real big game came against TCU, where they didnt put the game away until late into it.

Next season though I think we will see BSU play for the championship.  They have all but 2 starters returning next season.  Their key wins will be against Oregon State, and VT, if they one of those they are gone from the BCS, and if they lose any conference game they will be playing a bowl game sometime before Christmas.  Its that simple.

I would put my final rankings as such-Alabama, BSU, Florida, Texas.

Obama could bust the BCS with Broncos - College Football - Rivals.com

Titles and factions

I recently saw on a facebook post something about the Manhattan Declaration. It was a good read. It had valid points, and was thought provoking. But what stuck out to me was the fact that they continuously had to point out that they came from different religious backgrounds to write this declaration. I found that bothersome. Why cant we just declare ourselves as "us", or "we". Follow Jefferson's example when he said "we the people", he didnt break it down by labeling subgroups within the population. We constantly find ourselves trying to label ourselves, or others. We bicker about how we wish to be called, what is the proper term to use. I have a light complexion and red hair, instantly people try to make me be Irish, and theres nothing wrong with that except for that I'm not Irish. My jumbled political ideas, and voting record would show that I'm maybe a little more liberal than my neighbors, but that doesnt make me a Democrat. We seem to want to instantly label people, it makes us feel good, secure. Like that annoying 3rd grade teacher used to say "a place for everything and everything in its place." If we can label people then we know how to deal with them, and we feel at peace. People get annoyed by being called the wrong thing. I dont. Sure people can call me Irish-American, I know their wrong, but it makes them feel secure and it doesnt bother me. If they question my ancestry, I'll be more than happy to tell them that my family comes from England, Scotland and Prussia, sorry no Ireland. Whadah you know? We might converse with a fellow being. When people call me white, I dont care, its close enough. When people call me Caucasian, I dont care. When people want to throw the label of Christian on me, that is fine as well, I believe in Christ, my idea of him in the general sense is the same as others, so that would make me Christian. We constantly want to label ourselves, and labels are troublesome. This idea of labels proves troublesome for people in the United States that have not been in the majority. The constant struggle to find that cohesive identity among all. Even the Federal government cant come up with a proper way of labeling people. A person may change ethnicity multiple times during their life according the U.S. Census bureau, which for the longest time didnt (or still doesnt) know how to identify someone from India. Look it up, its interesting. My ideas of absolving the labeling of people might be too idealistic, but I'm going to try it. Instead of just labeling people, I'll just call them what they are....a person, I think that is concise enough.

The Quiet

the silence is omnipotent
filling the air, allways noticable
smoke, not the weak wisps of cigars
or cigarettes, but of distruction
and change
the evident smoke standing vicarious
for what had been before
the deafening silence fills my ears
I can touch, I can feel it
is this what what I longed for
just a little bit of solitude
please give me peace
but peace is not quiet
im discovering the peace
in the chaos, in the noise
the beautiful noise.

Remembering When

It was 8 years ago on Friday. It doesn't really seem that long ago. The memories of how we felt that day. Where we were, who we called, what we did. It was a day that will stay imprinted on our minds forever. For an instant we we struck dumb, we were in awe, disbelief, and fear. Some were angry. Angry that such a thing could happen to us. Angry, and thirsty for quick vengeance. For the most part those feelings quickly washed away. It turned into something else. The spirit of our citizens and residents emerged. It is what makes us American. People threw themselves into harms way. For what? Sometimes it was to save just one soul from the inferno. Sometimes it was to be their so they wouldn't be alone as they moved into the great beyond. Some did it because it was their duty. More people flooded the area. Despite the dangers of more explosions, collapses or chemical exposure. The risks were great, but the job had to be done, the rewards greater. For a moment we are simply Americans. We weren't liberal, conservative, republicans, democrats or divided between us and them. The nation stood as We. We the People stood together. We came together. We honored the dead. Revered the heroes. Embraced the survivors and the "survived by" as well. Let's remember how we felt, the unity at that time. The closeness, the camaraderie, the United family that we are.

I am the mash'd fireman with breast-bone broken,
Tumbling walls buried me in their debris,
Heat and smoke I inspired, I heard the yelling shouts of my comrades,
I heard the distant click of their picks and shovels,
They have clear'd the beams away, they tenderly lift me forth.
-Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

Remember the heroes. Thank those that stand the line between us and danger. Those that stand guard over us at night, and protect us by night. Thank those that are willing to lose their life so that we may have ours. Let us never lose our American Spirit. Let us always prevail, no matter how far or hard we fall, we shall always rise.

God bless us all.

Psalm of Waiting

time drips, life force
from an open wound
bleeding slowly, dully aching
gently unrelenting
slowly ticking at sixty-eight
thousand four hundred miles an hour
the Preacher and Paul say a time
there is a time for
everything

what is time?
die or live
reap or sow
is it my seven
days of creation
or forty days of waiting?
How much time is sufficient?
let this be the time
sufficient is for the day
let today be the day
this be the hour

of the reckoning, awakening
resurrection and exaltation
let this by the day
of change and the quickening

I am no Job
I am no martyr
let the days of suffering
let the days of proving
end

i am at the bedrock
i am in the hole
but I am not hid
I am not forgotten
deliver me or grant me
knowledge of my purpose
I am....knocking

Puncho Says It's a Great Day!

It wasn’t a dark or stormy night. The setting was rather benign. Slightly before sunrise. All quiet. It was that quiet that existed as only a handful of people stirred. The house rested except for one. Russell had an early tee time that his friend hooked him up with at Brentwood Club. The day before the house was full of noise, a million kids running through the house, parents all telling each other how wonderful the other kids were, but secretly knowing that their child was more superior than the others. The Clown Puncho. It would be patronizing to say creepy clown, since within the word “clown” lies the innate attribute of creepy. He was amusing enough, gags, magic and balloons. The balloons. The man pulled out so many balloons from all over his costume. His form of latex was a balloon, it had to be. The big shiney helium balloons with his face and in big letters “PUNCHO SAYS IT’S A GREAT DAY!” or “PARTY TIME!” or “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”. Then there were the balloon animals. When does one come to the knowledge that they have the skill of the balloon beast. The creation of an animal out of air-godlike. What after one was mastered the language Klingon, has popped every pimple, and mentally consummated a relationship with every suicide girl does one feel like it is now time to tackle the craft of balloon making?

Russell, still not completely awake stumbled from the room down the hall to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind him, turning on the light. He closed his eyes and allowed his eyes to get accustomed to the light though his eyelids. Finally when he felt like he could open his eyes, “oh shit!” He startled. Puncho was behind him smiling in the mirror. Russell swung around and thrust his right hand into Puncho’s face. The face bobbed about making the red ribbon dance around. “Damn.” Russell said, letting a laugh escape his lungs. It had scared the hell out of him. Then again who wouldn’t get the crap scared out of them seeing a balloon laughing at them in the mirror. He grabbed the ribbon, pulling it closer, and than palmed the balloon thrusting it out of the bathroom. The act of thrusting a balloon might possibly be the most anticlimactic action. No matter how hard and with what ferocity one puts behind the thing the damn thing will not go any faster, only if meanders about bobbing and mocking the anger. Especially when it has the face of a grinning clown.

The rest of the morning routine was normal. Shower, wash and then shampoo last. Shave, brush the teeth. With the towel secured around his waste, he opened the door and exited without looking. There was Puncho right in his face. It had hung there outside the door the entire time. Russell pushed it out of his way, into the hall. The balloon floated up ward and away, with the ribbon trailing behind. As Russell turned the ribbon wrapped itself around his throat. Russell grabbed at it trying to pull it loose, but it grew tighter. He tried to puller higher up on the ribbon, to pull the balloon closer to try and build some slack in the ribbon. All he received instead was rumble and scream. He tried to back up and tripped over a Transformer toy, losing his footing the ribbon grew tighter, cutting into his skin. He scrambled, but his feet could find no purchase. He tugged and groped, but there was no relief. Only more screaming, whining, and all sorts of horrific noises. From down the hall he could hear noises as though someone was waking up. He tried to call out, but he could make no noise. There were patches of darkness in his sight. The whining was gone, he could smell something burning. He looked up and saw Puncho smiling and around him in a halo was “PUNCHO SAYS IT’S A GREAT DAY!”

Monica a lovely little number stumbled from her bed, she heard noises or at least she thought she did. “Russell?” She calls from the side of her bed where she puts on her robe. “Russell?” She calls head cocked to the side at the door. “RUSSELL!” She yells. She runs to him, dancing above his head was the balloon, all bright colors and smiles. Next to his body lay a large wooden fan blade. “Russell!” She cried over her husband’s dead body.

Winter Warmth

Your name is the color green
bursting from the white blanket snow
eyes large and alluring
the moon that controls me like the tide
a heart burning, the Yule log fire
a beacon in the cold winter Earth
fork tongued fools speak falsehoods
to your eternal beautiful essence
there lips are sealed, they stayed
silent they are like a night of snow
your synonyms they do not know
wife, mother, sister, teacher, friend
healer, counselor, nurse, educator
daughter, princess, heiress to the universe
no poem, no matter the length, the
breadth, the width, the depth of it
especially on by the weak penned poet
could contain, capture the you that is you
to know you is to live, see, breathe,
touch, smell, love you
and only then can one know only
a fraction, a part of you. like
the snow one cannot separate every
flake, but simply stand in awe of the whole.