Get Word Gargle!

Behold, the latest Disciples of Clyde Podcast:



Further explanation here. There is military equipment involved, at least the imaginary type.

Now, allow me to briefly steal my own show. This place is my rock, my shelter, so I'll say it here: I don't care if no one else noticed about Jennings's bipolar twit, or subsequent denial. Here I am before and after. I'm not mad at Jennings, nor do I feel I'm some kind of world-class dupe. It was a reasonable statement to make and I reacted thus; it turned out to be an ill-advised, if only slightly tasteless, "joke." We move on.

But what's sickening me is the folks I'm seeing who think that this didn't even warrant consideration. Sorry, but 1) it happened and 2) it touched on something real, and real to the NBA, no less. Someone made a point that schizophrenia's become a joke of sorts, which means it's all good and I'm overreacting. That makes some sense to me, though I'd argue that schizophrenia humor is, like cancer puns, one of those things that presumes shock value or considers its object only in the abstract.

As I've said, I really don't care that much. Yes, Jennings's "joke" (not much of one when he's such a weirdo, and many found the charges plausible, leading to whispers of a cover-up by his agent) struck a nerve and made a fool of me. But it also made him look bad. I don't get why that's conveniently brushed aside. I mean, really, explain to me how there's nothing to this and I'm attacking a poor kid over nothing? There is a world outside the internet.

Let's at least have that conversation. Then we can forget all about it, like I did when I wrote that second piece. Just acknowledge that telling me to "lighten up" is bullshit. Oh, and someone please ask Delonte West how he feels about this.

THAT'S WRITE MESSAGE BOARDS AND TROLLS, I'M TALKING 2 U!!!!!!

Noisy Grabbers

Okay, we know the segment last episode with Josh Levin had some audio issues. We decided that the best thing to do was have him back on the show, in our first ever Make-Up Call. Ken joins in this time. New Orleans and the Hornets are discussed.



Ken and Dan also talk amongst themselves in regards to various excellent things other people wrote, such as this piece by Howard Beck in the NY Times, this post by Seth at Posting and Toasting, this one by Kelly Dwyer at Ball Don’t Lie, and this from Shoals at Fanhouse. Plus, a new twist on one of our segments, using the Pro Basketball Prospectus.

It all sounds normal. The audio part, if not the topics of conversation or the participants in said conversation.

Songs from the episode:

“Re-Ignition” - Bad Brains
“Once Again (Here To Kick One For You)” - Handsome Boy Modeling School
“Whatever” - Husker Du
“If You Don’t Get It The First Time, Back Up and Try It Again, Party” - Fred Wesley and the J.B.’s
“Another Batch (Play It Again)” - Madlib
“Never See Me Again” - Vivian Girls
“Try Again” - Big Star

Subscribe via iTunes, whydontya?

Fly Through All Ears

Yes, we’re back. It was only Dan that left the country for a week, but still, now the show is back.



Dan checks back in with Ken, and they talk a little trade action. Then Dan does something that’s never been done on this show.

In the next segment, Dan talks with Josh Levin, of Slate.com, writer and host of the Hang Up and Listen podcast. Josh is originally from New Orleans, which gave them a chance to talk about the sports scene there (Super Bowl relevant!) as well as the Hornets (NBA Podcast relevant!)

We’ll be honest, there’s some static-y noise in the talk with Josh. We did the best we could about it. It’s probably Ken’s fault.

Songs from the episode:

“Come On Feet” - Quasimoto
“All Tomorrow’s Linoleum” - Autechre
“Perception” - Kylesa
“Ease Back” - The Meters
“The Saints Are Coming” - The Skids

Subscribe via iTunes, whydontya?

The Best of Everything and Its Discontents

Please, do spend some time with the links post I put together earlier today.

But hold up and stop the virtual presses, even if it means sticking your hand in there until it's pulped and spewing blood everywhere. Crawford for Harrington. Knicks officially dead, my trip to the Garden possibly postponed. The 2007-08 Golden State Warriors become my favorite team of all time and we start a Wiki on them, just like this bullshit local NPR show is telling me to do.

Knicks thinking to the future, Crawford not a true point, blah blah. Bring him to Nellie—and this might be the difference between this current incarnation of D'Antoni-ball (training wheels, system will guide you) and the all-out psychedelic meltdown happening in Oakland—and you're looking forward to a back court of Monta and Crawford, with Maggette at PF, Stephen Jackson somewhere, that Latvian guy whose name I can't spell at center, and a bench of Turiaf, Wright, and He Whose Name Is Not Spake. And Azubulke. Oh, and the net result of the Anthony Morrow experience. Nelson will have to dream up all sorts of treats, instead of just letting them play loose, because they're not good enough for that. And then they will anyway. This team is so bizarre, so mismatched, and so lacking in any kind of internal coherence, that it will be like burning down a forest for the trees, or whatever the saying is.

Truly overwhelmed right now. I just know that we rarely get to see such a perverse need for both desperate coach-ly imagination and players taking themselves to their barely comprehensible limits because there's just no other option. This is not a celebration, or an affirmation, it's deep, dark, and even in failure will have the power to scar us for life. In a good way, like that one on your arm or hand that tells a story unto itself.