She met another blind kid at a fancy dress...

Cooking. For 20-somethings in New York, it is all the rage. Men don aprons in the same thoughtless manner that a child might wear a baseball cap. Fanciful dishes with exotic ingredients grace the tables of precocious couples, who eat gingerly while sipping an appropriate wine. They share secret smiles across a scratched wooden table, bound romantically, they imagine, by intricate culinary concoctions. Regional magazines adorn their covers with comprehensive, arbitrary lists of acceptable eateries. Recipe books are no longer perused solely by spiritless stay-at-homes in an effort to forestall alcoholism. Even unaffiliated publications, with reputations to protect, cede precious pages to sonorous descriptions of aroma and taste- designed, one thinks, to stimulate arousal. Yea, the very fabric of existence is infiltrated with foreign spices and additives, and the simplicity we have known falters, obscured by the steam from overactive kitchens.

I am not a fellow much seduced by food. Though I consume my share, I am contented, even pleased, by three slices of deli turkey on white bread, slathered with excessive yellow mustard. Or pasta, cooked for eight minutes in a boiling pot, topped by store-bought marinara with an Italian name, yet manufactured in Delaware. Even omelets, more in the shape of a tortilla, filled with packaged swiss cheese and buffalo sausage. Oh, and let us not forget plain cereal, bobbing in a sea of two percent milk. These are the mainstays of my diet.

Friday evening, I dined with a friend at a restaurant called "Planet Thai." Here, I ordered a spicy tuna sushi roll. I successfully mixed a potion of soy sauce and wasabi in the tiny stoneware platter provided, and found the combined flavor pleasing. As an appetizer, it quite sufficed, and I felt content at my foray into prandial extravagance.

For the entree, I risked attempting the infamous 'Pad Thai' dish, perpetually vaunted by peers who fancy themselves gastronomes. Following the raging success of the Spicy Tuna rolls, I had high hopes indeed, and was crushed to discover that the putrid meal was an ill-fated combination of sauteed onions topped by a runny mixture of peanut butter and toilet water. I stormed out in a huff, leaving my friend to pay the bill. I doubt very much if I shall ever frequent that establishment again, and the insipid company of my gaping mate will not be in anything like high demand.

Today, having neglected to visit the grocers on Sunday, I fell back to the old standby of sweet and sour pork from a Vietnamese establishment on Third Avenue. It is one of the few Celestial plates to be trusted; the residuum is a boggy pastiche of stringy flora gathered by children in oriental swamps and tangled into quart-sized blocks by undiscriminating farm-hands whose own sense of taste has been annihilated by a lifetime's exposure to Agent Orange.

I found it adequate.

On a Beech tree rudely carved

An abeyance, for now, in the TOURNAMENT OF MADNESS, while I attend to other matters in advance of a four-day vacation, whose duration will be passed without proximity to our little work-a-day blogosphere.

Due to recent travels along the eastern length of New York, weekend sleep has been scarce, and I've fallen into a regressive pattern of afternoon naps and morning misery. This is to be expected, of course, when all energy is concentrated on the short evening hours where a young man's activity is expected to peak. Nevertheless, the forthcoming hiatus will come as a welcome reprieve, and may afford a chance to regain a proper circadian rhythm. I must admit, however, that the preponderance of investments in future slumber have yielded precious little in the way of return.

There is something terribly obscene about the typo "teh." It is worse by far than any other misspelling, grammatical error, or miskeyed term in our native tongue. Exactly why this is so, I can't quite explain, though I theorize that it hinges on our perception of "the" as a bulwark of language, without which our manifold nouns would crumble into pidgin nonsense. Too, there is the error's guttural pronunciation, calling to mind our thoughtless neanderthal predecessors, whose resurgent influence is keenly observed in the youthful zeitgeist. The congregating hordes of English debasers- enemies from within- would be wise to make use of the corruption as their principal arme de choix.

Now, a rhyming alternative history poem about the airborne dog fight between Baron Von Richthofen and Eddie Rickenbacker, which may have occurred had the former not perished a mere eight days before the latter's first foray.


FLYING CIRCUS, RE-VISITED

Fearless Eddie Rickenbacker
left his helmet in the locker
and said unto the gens d'armes,
"Today my soul is free from harm."
He swaggered to the waiting plane-
a Nieuport 28 from Spain-
and once the rear guns were aligned
(and confidential papers signed),
he made the tiny engine sing
and woe! the Hat (was) in-the-Ring.

Sipping on his grail of tea,
the Baron smiled, sick with glee.
He thought of evil things he'd do
aboard the Albatross D-2.
A finger traced the Kaiser's crest;
the wicked German beat his breast.
Soon with gestures quick and mean,
he drank a human blood canteen
and in a flash- his craft aloft-
the deathly red beret was doffed!

The pilots met above the lake
called Jungfernsee ("the steady drake")
and circled twice around before
they made the mounted guns to roar.
But Rickenbacker saw his chance:
he flew up close, he drew his lance
and leapt into the German plane-
a tactic some had called "insane."
But with a shout of "U-S-A!"
he slew the baron; Oh, hooray!

ToM: West Region, first round results

Good news. Last night, nearly asleep, I thought of a word which contains at least one letter from each of the 10 vertical columns of the keyboard. It does so in 13 letters total, and is approximately an adverb. As such, it is not perfect, but constitutes a significant leap forward for typographic linguistics. There are roughly 250,000 words in a thorough English dictionary, and if anybody knows of a 10 letter entry, neither plural nor adverbial, which uses one and only one representative from each column, please inform me at your earliest convenience. I apologize if I've neglected proper punctuation (by the omission of a single comma?) at any point in this paragraph.


THE WEST REGION, FIRST ROUND RESULTS

(1) Google
def.
(8) All-Male A Cappela Groups

In the fastest victory in TOURNAMENT OF MADNESS history, Google swiftly dispatched the well-meaning, heartwarming, but ultimately ineffectual undergrad crooners. While the musical octet (calling themselves "Eight Guys, No Girl, and at Leasta' Bass!") tuned to a pitch pipe, Google set up a high-definition projector and screen. Soon, the YouTube video of All 4 One's 1994 R&B hit "I Swear" began to play. Completely rapt, the a capella singers drifted toward the screen, forgoing any plans to actually perform. The individual members were heard to mutter such awe-struck platitudes as "this is fucking art," and began to mimic the group's dramatic body language, placing clenched fists on their hearts and leaning forward slightly, eyes closed, to mouth the lyrics.

In the ensuing two minutes, gesticulations and lip-synching brought all eight to a position mere inches from the projector screen, at which point they wrapped the canvas in a circle, creating a tight cylinder with themselves at the center. Strange moans and caterwauls were heard inside, climaxing at the second chorus. At least one audience member vomited, and the general mood of those in attendance could be euphemistically described as "uncomfortable." It was a stark relief when a bespectacled Google representative set the screen on fire, consuming the lives of all eight and effectively ending the match.


(5) Outer Space, as Conceived by Ignorant, Poor, Elizabethan-era Cockneys
def.
(4) Flowery Language

"Hyacinth and amethyst adorned the landscape of her heart, betrothed to fragrant oakmoss and blazing scarlet upon the amorous lovestrokes of an incandescent horizon," began Flowery Language, reaching forward as if to grasp something beautifully intangible. Before it could continue in this vein, it was approached and violently torn apart by a bulbous, oil-slicked space creature with throbbing veins, one gigantic eye, jagged spikes, small, awkward flippers, seven mouths, and a twelve-foot erect penis.


(3) Bread
def.
(6) Newt Gingrich

Opening with impressive fervor, Gingrich assailed Bread with populist rhetoric, attempting to associate the well-established food with wealthy, out-of-touch, ivory tower liberal professors. Fifty percent of spectators vehemently agreed, mimicking his anger, while the other half seemed befuddled and frightened. Yet when pressed for specifics, Gingrich and his supporters only responded with more bile. To the bewilderment of the Bread faithful, the momentum continued unabated after Bread's logical speech on its origins and importance to human cuisine, backed by impeccable research and exhaustive fact-checking. Gingrich seemed on the verge of a narrow victory when, in a seemingly fatal error, he proved unable to resist the allure of the exact thing he preached against.

In a feeding frenzy, he ate bread for four straight hours, eventually rendering himself incapable of standing. Despite what some called "inexcusable greed and hypocrisy," almost none of his supporters rescinded, instead concocting elaborate excuses which, when parsed, proved fallacious at best. Gingrich, lying prostrate on the arena floor, bread crumbs bedecking his over-extended suit, gurgling like an infant, still appeared on the brink of winning. Unfortunately, he chose that exact moment to eat a slab of Dutch Rye. Even Gingrich's enormous throat was too narrow for this last piece, and he began to choke, spewing bread pieces onto four of his five chins. Despite the vocal support of his constituents, everyone was "too disgusted" to help, and the former Speaker was medically disqualified. When reached for comment, liberal professors in ivory towers said they were happy about Gingrich's defeat, but "were sort of hoping he would advance and eventually be torn apart by a space monster with a twelve-foot erect penis."


(2) Unreliable Husbands of the Old West
def.
(7) Awkward Silence

After decades of responding to the furious silence of wives and other loved ones with resentful hollerin', violence, and continued drinking, Unreliable Husbands of the Old West were completely unfazed by Awkward Silence. In fact, judging by post-match interviews, it's not clear whether the victors were ever aware of their opponent, or even that they were competing in a tournament. The unceasing clamor, resulting in much internecine conflict, including four deaths by gunfire and one by a broken chair over the head, left little room for the challenger to exercise its subtle machinations. "We're more effective around insecure teens, middle-aged office drones with little-to-no personality, and disparate groups of shy people," said an Awkward Silence Spokesman. "Hats off to Unreliable Husbands...they really outgunned us today." The spokesman then shifted uncomfortably as reporters were left to wonder if the pun was intentional.


Second Round, WEST REGION:

(1) Google
vs.
(5) Outer Space, as Conceived by Ignorant, Poor, Elizabethan-era Cockneys

(2) Unreliable Husbands of the Old West
vs.
(3) Bread

ToM: Midwest Region, first round results

While jogging around the track at McCarren Park yesterday afternoon, I watched a soccer match on the interior turf. The near goalie fielded a slow roller and punted the ball in a high, narrow arc. I followed the trajectory to its apex, and at the absolute peak, when gravity and momentum reconciled for a hovering moment, the sphere perfectly obscured the moon. I didn't know until the bottom fell out, of course, because I've been conditioned not to notice the lunar presence in daylight hours. In that respect, the soccer ball seemed like a sort of agent, assigned to draw my attention upward. By whom or for what reason, I'm unclear. Later that night, around 3am, I woke to find the moon (yellow, now) aligned near the middle of the top window pane. Facing west, the view from my room encompasses a cement rooftop courtyard (off limits), morning smoke rising from some Manhattan stack, the taller, grey, loft apartments immediately opposite, and, between the morning hours of one and five, the arbiter of tides. The latter has become something of a leitmotif, consolation for my wakeful habits. I don't have a point with all this. THE MIDWEST REGION, FIRST ROUND RESULTS: (1) The Rosetta Stone def. (8) Babe the Blue Ox Oh the mangled dead we leave, when burdened beasts expect reprieve! After kicking off the match with a brief declaration of divine right, The Rosetta Stone set the tone early by scaling a large firmament. Babe, who had stared dumbly during the arcane speech, seemed to suspect nothing, and despite ample forewarning that the stone was clearly bent on falling from a great height, the maligned ox still held out hope that some new friendship might be in progress. Owing to that essential goodness, he was staring upward with a dopey grin when the Rosetta Stone made its first dive. The result was a broken nose. Wasting no time, the slab raced up the same edifice and repeated the stunt, this time cracking the animal's mandible. The pattern continued uninterrupted for four hours, at which point referees declared a ten minute intermission. In the second half, it is difficult to know exactly when Babe's lack of movement owed more to severe injury than a longing for companionship, but there is no doubt as to the moment of death. Just after a kidney shot at the eight-hour mark, Babe emitted a loud, low bellow, and roared the name "Paul." He expired soon thereafter. Spectators called the match excessively gory, the type of inhumane slaughter only acceptable to sadists or bullfighting aficionados. Nevertheless, it is worth noting that the majority stayed in their seats, rapt, until the fatal conclusion. (5) Bobbing for Apples def. (4) Derisive Laughter Represented by two sullen teenagers wearing black t-shirts, Derisive Laughter encountered a group of children near a quaint barn, huddled around a barrel full of water filled with macintosh apples. The adolescents adopted cruel grins and approached. However, because they were so engrossed, the children couldn't be bothered to acknowledge their would-be tormentors. Unrecognized, Derisive Laughter soon lost its heart, the catcalls and taunts fading into insecurity. Finally, after a brief discussion, they agreed to "give the game a shot." Soon, they were enthusiastically plying the barrel with mouths agape, grinning like toddlers. Referees, determining that their laughter had gone from "derisive" to "excited," declared Bobbing for Apples the winner. In a sad footnote, the teens both contracted Foot and Mouth disease from the filthy water. (3) Greenery Day in Japan def. (6) The Expression "Whatever, Dude" Overrun by highly-trained, idealistic Japanese eco-fiends, The Expression "Whatever, Dude" was outgunned from the start. Unable to get off their asses and do anything, they sat back and watched idly while thousands of Ginkgo and Bonsai trees were planted in their immediate proximity. In less than thirty minutes, Greenery Day had constructed a dense forest, and oxygen levels reached critical mass. Known for taking, long, languorous breaths, purveyors of "Whatever, Dude" fell at risk for the rare "oxplosion" phenomenon, which occurs when the O2 compound nullifies carbon and hydrogen in the blood stream and converts all bone marrow into ethanol, instantly killing the victim. Although they had some inclination as to the precarious nature of their situation, the loafing, apathetic layabouts stayed true to form and refused to move. Greenery Day called the tactic "historically brave, like a big, fat, disgusting captain going down with his ship of sloth." (7) Toothpaste def. (2) Tiger Woods, Derek Jeter, and Tom Brokaw Despite a strong finish to the regular season, Woods, Jeter, and Brokaw failed to sustain their momentum, succumbing in a hard-fought match after their timeworn strategy proved too repetitious. Things started auspiciously enough, with Brokaw relating the story of Guadalcanal, a World War Two naval battle where the sacrifice and hardship of the Greatest Generation (tm) helped to defeat the Japanese fleet and turn the tide of the Pacific campaign. Jeter, after a polite pause, shook his head in awe and said "that's really something, Tom." Woods agreed, stating "I can't imagine, Tom...those were some real unselfish folks." The crowd applauded, and murmurs were heard about Woods and Jeter, to the effect that they were "real polite, and very well-spoken." However, as the stories continued, toothpaste proved resilient, refusing to go away despite being turned down by both its opponents and spectators. "You'll need me soon," it muttered, and continued canvassing the stadium. Meanwhile, Brokaw's stories grew slightly disjointed, and Woods showed signs of listlessness. Still, they retained the slight edge until dawn of the second day. Jeter, standing to stretch, began tossing a baseball to himself. Brokaw had been in the midst of detailing Rommel's African adventures, when he stopped to ask if Jeter knew that baseball had been invented by General Douglas MacArthur. Knowing this wasn't true, and frustrated by a season of boredom, the New York Yankee invoked Perseus and angrily hurled the baseball into the stands, where it struck an old man in the face, knocking out his front teeth. Always an opportunist, toothpaste loudly proclaimed that if the man had practiced good dental care, his teeth would have stayed intact. As Woods and Jeter grew less tolerant, the atmosphere of the crowd changed, and all sought to take precaution. Toothpaste became universally accepted, earning great acclaim and eclipsing the faltering trio. Finally, Brokaw called Adolf Hitler "the second toughest Mexican I ever knew," and Woods stormed off in a huff. Jeter followed suit, and toothpaste declared victory. Second Round, MIDWEST REGION: (1) The Rosetta Stone vs. (5) Bobbing for Apples (3) Greenery Day in Japan vs. (7) Toothpaste

ToM: South Region, first round results

After 'discovering' these outcomes between the hours of two and four a.m. this morning, I drifted off and was rewarded with a dream about my true love. My friend Kyle and I were on vacation in a town called Tupper Lake. It's a former logging community close to where we grew up, and not the sort of place you'd ever visit unless being dictated by the strange logic of dreams. It was night, and we wandered to a party in a large, brown house with a big lawn. Inside were two girls- sister, I think- and Kyle hit it off with one immediately and left, leaving me alone with the other.

We sat on her couch and talked. She was one of those rare dream characters who don't resemble a person you already know. I don't even think she had familiar features. Unlike real life, there was no uncertainty to the rhythm of our conversation, and when we kissed it seemed like a natural progression instead of something to be excited about. The dream jumped to the morning (without any implication, not that type of dream...) and her mother came down the stairs with cups of coffee and a knowing smile. We smiled back, being in love.

Part two of the dream shifted to Ocean City, Maryland, a place where you really would take a vacation. I was alone in a condo my grandfather owns- three buildings removed from beach front- sitting on the street-side deck. Now there were more friends elsewhere, and by a new logic I had to convince them to come out with me as a precondition for seeing the girl again.

Kyle was in love with the girl he'd met, had other plans, and wouldn't come. Brandon was on a new diet, couldn't drink any alcohol, and so was out. A third party had his own excuse, both elements lost from memory. Outside, the waves reached the base of the Coral Reef (the building's name), alarming because, as I mentioned, it isn't on the beach. The flood kept rising, all the way to the deck, then subsided without leaving a trace of itself.

Part three found me on an Ocean City restaurant patio, facing the true-love-girl across an aluminum picnic table. Her face and body had changed, and the feeling of closeness from the first night had disappeared, replaced by a polite distance. She treated me with what seemed natural friendship, devoid of other feelings, and I had to fake the same. She spoke of her boyfriend, and I tried to seem casual while asking if she'd told him about us. She laughed and said yes, as though what we'd done hadn't been anything.

Her boyfriend, not present, had wanted to know why I didn't have a respectable job ("in a good-sized metropolis," she added, to which I protested, "but I live in New York!") or solid future plans. I had no excuses, and her silence conveyed the absentee's scoff. She expressed admonishment for his strange practicality, but it was the mild kind women reserve for loved ones they don't plan on leaving. There was also the hint that maybe his questions weren't too unreasonable. She'd changed completely, isolating me as much as I'd been accepted in part one.

I woke up to the computer screen, and after my eyes adjusted, the first words I read were: "A stunned audience booed the arrogant victor."


THE SOUTH REGION, FIRST ROUND RESULTS


(8) A Child's Peashooter
def.
(1) David & Goliath

In the surprise of the tournament, top-seeded David & Goliath fell victim to an unlikely upstart. Though many spectators assumed the fearsome duo would simply snap the Child's Peashooter in half, David chose the unorthodox strategy of hurling stones from a long distance. Goliath nervously waited in the background, offering scattered bits of advice. At one point, microphones clearly picked up the following excerpt:

Goliath: I'm not sure this is the best idea.
David: Trust me, I've seen it work before.
Goliath: Please don't face me when you're throwing stones.

Although David was surprisingly accurate, the Child's Peashooter proved too small a target for his stones, which landed in close proximity on all sides. One projectile actually hit the toy, but had very little effect on its wooden structure. Finally, they were forced to approach. The Peashooter, sensing an opportunity, fired its lone hardened vegetable, hitting Goliath on the forehead. "Ow," exclaimed the giant, lifting a hand to his head, "that stung." Hearing his teammate's reaction, David immediately ran over, removed the sword from the Philistine's scabbard, and cut his head off. Afterward, a distraught David attempted to explain. "I saw him get hit in the forehead, and I sort of blacked out...I was just going on memory at that point...you see Goliath get hit, you decapitate him. It's scripture, literally. That was my only thought, but I have no excuse. Just a real mental lapse."

With a newfound respect for the peashooter, David entered into negotiations. Reluctantly, the peashooter agreed to a deal which would allow Israel continued sovereignty in exchange for David conceding the match. At one point, when the talks were reaching an end, a frustrated spectator shouted "Just fucking break the peashooter in half! It's a child's toy." David responded by hurling a stone, which hit the stunned supporter in the testicles. Uproarious laughter followed the stunt, but, according to legal sources, a lawsuit is pending. Afterward, the Child's Peashooter called the victory "bittersweet." "I'm thrilled to advance," it told reporters, "but I was really hoping for control of Israel."



(5) The Concept of English
def.
(4) The Know-Nothing Party, 1855

When informed of its first-round opponent, the Know-Nothing Party expressed some puzzlement. "We support the English," founder Charles Allen was heard to say. "We're basically English Protestants without the accent." Expecting a courteous, civil battle, the Know-Nothings were shocked at a sudden attack of wildly spinning cue balls. Although they managed to deflect some of the white spheres, the expertly calculated Concept of English would simply send them caroming off a nearby object and hurtling back at the defenseless human. The result was a massacre, culminating in the death or crippling of every Know-Nothing proponent. Allegations of foul play circulated in media reports after the match, purportedly arising from photographs of Pope Piux IX slipping an unmarked envelope to a contingency of cue balls. It is unknown whether the Pope's spiritual and financial support will continue in the Concept of English's second-round match against A Child's Peashooter.


(3) My Friend Dustin
def.
(6) The Chicago Bulls, 1996

Although the Bulls ran out to an early 78 point lead, led by superstar Michael Jordan, Dustin's associative attacks eventually demoralized the NBA Champions. The following six-minute stretch, transcribed by courtside stenographers, turned the tide, and is being called by some "the greatest example of relational dismantling since the heyday of Ellen DeGeneres."

Dustin: Michael Jordan... More like Jordan's Crossing...Jordan's Travelling..Hey, Jordan's travelling!

(Referee calls Jordan for a travelling violation)

Dustin: Scottie Pippen...More like Pippin the Musical..Corner of the Sky..Sky Hook!

(Dustin nails a fifty-foot sky hook)

Dustin: Steve Kerr..Kermit the Frog...Jim Henson...Muppets...Fozzie Bear...More like grin and Bear it...Bare it all...Bare-all...AIRBALL!

(Steve Kerr shoots an airball)

Dustin: Horace Grant...More like Forest Chant...Sherwood Forest...Robin Hood...Prince of Thieves...Principal Skinner...Skin and Bones...Skeleton...Red Skelton...Klem Kadiddlehopper...Grasshopper...Bluegrass...Banjo...Redneck...Rent Check...Rent-a-Car...Gas Station...Pump Spot...JUMP SHOT!

(Dustin nails a jumper)

This relentless style continued for the duration of the game, propelling My Friend Dustin to a comfortable thirty-seven point win. The majority of the Bulls succumbed to severe anger and were ejected from the game, to the point that only Dennis Rodman was eligible for the final ten minutes. Greatly amused by Dustin, Rodman was rendered ineffective, shaking his head, laughing, and applauding while Phil Jackson screamed from the sideline.


(7) Vladimir Nabokov
def.
(2) The Word "Diffident"

To raucous cheers, The Word "Diffident" strode out to the Ray Charles song "You Don't Know Me," wearing a purple, hooded cape with multiple upside-down question marks emblazoned in yellow. Over the music, it could be heard howling in the manner of a ghost. The entire spectacle represented a clear attempt to heighten the aura of mystery surrounding its recent success. Nabokov, wearing a monocle, tweed jacket, olive-green corduroy pants, and Italian loafers, quickly defined his opponent as "lacking confidence in one's own ability, timid, or, alternately, restrained in manner."

Diffident paused for a moment, shocked into silence, before asking "I'm pretty screwed, right?" Nabokov nodded, and Diffident removed its hood, shook the author's hand, and fought to hold back tears as it slouched away. A stunned audience booed the arrogant victor, who calmly removed his tweed jacket to reveal a t-shirt. On its front was a picture of My Friend Dustin, with the dates "1983-2007" inscribed below the grinning face.


Second Round, SOUTH REGION:


(8) A Child's Peashooter
vs.
(5) The Concept of English


(3) My Friend Dustin
vs.
(7) Vladimir Nabokov

ToM: East Region, first round results

In the ruminative pre-dawn, accompanied by scant moonlight and a steady mechanized purr, I hunched over keys, furiously transcribing ephemeral visions before they slipped my grasp forever. Like the ardent man in an unexplored meadow, swinging his net in ambitious arcs at resplendent butterfly clouds, I must make do with the happy captures, and cope with the tinges of regret at each fluttering escape.


THE EAST REGION, FIRST ROUND RESULTS


(1) Creighton Blue Jays
def.
(8) Bob Hope, 2005

With a stingy 2-3 zone defense, Creighton stymied Bob Hope's aggressive game plan, reducing the deceased comedian to self-deprecating humor which never posed a real threat to the top-seeded Blue Jays. Though Hope scored significant laughs with quips like "I'm approaching fifty...but I won't tell you from which direction!" and "I don't feel old...I don't feel anything 'til noon. That's when I take my nap!", Creighton point guard Eddie Santangelo's 13-15 shooting performance ensured his team a comfortable victory.

Toward the match's end, Hope seemed severely addled, trotting out incongruous lines such as, "When she started to play, Steinway came down personally and rubbed his name off the piano." Long silence greeted this line, after which Hope seemed to lose heart, and was broken by a brilliantly-timed full court press. As Creighton's lead began to balloon, the old-school funny man was heard to say "I'm dead." Whether this was a prediction of the final result or simply a statement of anatomical fact is unclear. In either case, he was correct.


(4) Meryl Streep
def.
(5) The Song "Unchained Melody"

In this highly anticipated meeting of Artist v. Art, the human element triumphed by virtue of variety and personality. The outcome was in severe doubt early, however, as "Unchained Melody" led with its brilliant Righteous Brothers version. Streep countered by listing her various awards and nominations, a tactic which smacked of arrogance. A smattering of boos greeted her lifeless list, and "Unchained Melody" responded with its Barry Manilow cover. The audience roared, and momentum clearly seemed to be sweeping Streep aside. The actress was able to regain a measure of calm, however, and began to tell interesting stories about old acting partners. The strategy met some initial skepticism, but bore fruit with a light-hearted, point-by-point comparison of Deniro, Hoffman, and Woody Allen.

Meanwhile, "Unchained Melody" became redundant, playing itself ad nauseam with covers that gradually depreciated in quality. On its thirty-fifth go-around (a lugubrious James Blunt rendition), spectators had become visibly angry. Shouts of "time's going by really fucking slowly now," and "I hunger for your death!" rang throughout the stadium. Streep picked the moment to reveal her trump card: an emotional performance of Irina Nikolayevna's "Where is my church, where is my Mother, where, Russia, where, oh Nation of Tundras?" monologue from Chekhov's The Seagull. The virtuoso performance reduced many to tears, and "Unchained Melody" conceded.


(6) The Atlantic Ocean
def.
(3) Heinz Ketchup

In the tournament's first upset, The Atlantic Ocean defied expectations by unseating heavy favorite Heinz Ketchup in record time. Aggressively pursuing a "Mix and Change" offense, the Atlantic met surprisingly small resistance from the powerhouse condiment, which apparently thought that even salt water could not dilute its mass appeal. With a medium-sized tsunami, the Atlantic overturned an entire cargo fleet loaded with Heinz-57, most of which spilled into the water. From there, shifting tides carried the ketchup to a gathering of retirees engaged in recreational scuba diving off the coast of Miami. Mako sharks, confusing the red ingredient for blood, soon arrived on the scene and unleashed severe carnage on the group, maiming and killing the majority.

Forced into early damage control, the Heinz company gathered what remained of the spilled ketchup, re-bottling it in makeshift factories. Yet combined with elderly blood and salt water, the result held little appeal for the average consumer. Further, angry lobbyists from the AARP organized a supremely effective boycott, and lawsuits poured in from irate customers across the nation. The Atlantic Ocean took advantage of public sentiment to announce that it was canceling the 2008 hurricane season and severing its 10-year contract with the El Nino weather phenomenon. The shrewd PR move secured victory. A spokesman for Heinz expressed chagrin, calling the loss "the biggest company disappointment since the FCC banned our 'Hunts is for Cunts' ad campaign from the airwaves."


(2) The USSR Red Army Hockey Team, 1975
def.
(7) The Wheel

In a strategy that would prove disastrous, The Wheel team attempted to disguise themselves as hockey pucks, hoping to confuse the Red Army forwards and neutralize their blue-line speed. Yet due to an unfortunate clerical error, they sent out a contingent of tractor wheels, which are large, ridged, and bear no resemblance to a puck. Reduced to idle rolling, precarious tipping, and slow, circular settling, the wheels were forced to watch the nimble Russians skate past and score goal after goal. In a further paralyzing error, it was assumed that a single tractor wheel placed flat in front of the net would prevent all scoring opportunities. "We didn't realize hockey players could shoot pucks in the air," said a crestfallen wheel after the match. "In hindsight, some cursory research may have helped."

Stand-out Red Army netminder Vladislav Tretiak was credited with a shut-out, allowing zero goals on zero shots. Leonid Brezhnev, General Secretary of the Soviet Union, attended the match, calling the result a "triumph of the people's work ethic over western technology, and a further omen of our eventual and inevitable ascendancy." U.S. President George W. Bush, also on hand, seemed confused at Brezhnev's remarks, but greeted him heartily and expressed gratitude that he wasn't wearing "one of them queer Russky hats."


Second Round, EAST REGION:


(1) Creighton Blue Jays
vs.
(4) Meryl Streep


(2) The USSR Red Army Hockey Team, 1975
vs.
(6) The Atlantic Ocean

I'll think of England this time

Of late, the mewling kittens of self-pity have been stealing forth, begging sympathy rubs for supine bellies. The canines of maturity mostly scattered their kind, but arrived a bit late to the summons and only triumphed after some indulgence. This has been my weekend, the sort that makes Higher Powers snort in disgust. But I've become adept at turning a black collar to the trifling miseries (spared, for now, from visits by the elder sister), and am in no sense waylaid, though it's my shame to confess that to certain logic, the battle wages still. I have not grown up.

There's nothing of real consequence to report, but I'll share this quick anecdote from the new secretary affair. Please reference old entries for background.

Thursday or Wednesday, I can't remember which, I approached to deliver the afternoon mail when I noticed a platter of assorted fruit in neat display on her desk. Voicing my approval, I plucked a strawberry. In the ensuing transcript, I continue my old practice of using the sobriquet "Marissa" for my co-star, which is rather unfortunate because I don't like the name or any of its bearers.


Me: Ooh, can I have a kiwi too?

Marissa: Of course. You can even have a plate.

Me: (growing uncomfortable at the prospect of passing our five-line conversational record, and moving away) No, that's fine. I prefer to eat with my hands. It's a family thing.


As to the origin of that line, I couldn't begin to guess. It's not particularly funny, just odd, and only served to further her impression of my idiocy. I bet if she keeps a blog, she has a running theme of awkward encounters with the strange guy at work.*

*EDITOR'S NOTE: This is a clear case of wishful thinking on the part of the author, symptomatic of self-centered behavior and verging on egomania. In truth, probability suggests that the secretary does not keep a blog, and, even if she did, would not have made one mention of the author, on whom she did not waste a second thought on the day in question, or any occasions previous or subsequent. **

**NOTE FROM BLOGGER (tm) BY GOOGLE: The editor in question is a fabrication of the author, and should be viewed as further support for the solipsistic accusation, and not as new policy on the part of Google, Blogger, or any Google affiliates to revise, amend, or in any way interfere with the production of the still-sovereign blog community.***

***AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you, Google, for standing up for the common interest of the blogging community, and reminding activist editors that their judgments and assumptions have no place in the domain of the powerful, self-governed individual.****

****NOTE FROM BLOGGER (tm) BY GOOGLE: Please note, again, that the author and editor are one and the same person.******

*****EDITOR'S NOTE: Oh, are we?******

******NOTE FROM BLOGGER (tm) BY GOOGLE: Yes.*******

*******AUTHOR'S NOTE: Then how do you explain this!********

********NOTE FROM BLOGGER (tm) BY GOOGLE: The text following the italicized word displayed such unexpected levels of profanity that, for the first time ever, we've actually broken our promise and edited a blog. We can tell you that the author in no way proved his separate identity from the editor, and we can also promise that this is the last time we'll make such a move. As a show of good faith, we include the end of the author's note, which, believe it or not, is considerably more sensical and less offensive than the bulk of the rant.

END OF AUTHOR'S NOTE: ...so you can take your FUCKING NEW YORK QUEER MORALS, along with every GODDAMNED OUNCE OF BUREAUCRATIC GYPSY SHIT, and shove it so FUCKING FAR UP YOUR OWN UNMENTIONABLES that you get it STUCK somewhere between your BASTARDIZED search engine and the WHORE OF A MOTHER who reared you in Silicon WHATEVER-THE-FUCK valley in the middle of DOUCHE-TOWN, USA, population YOU BUNCH OF SHIT HEAD SCUMBAGS.


Nothing else occurs to me at the moment. Tomorrow through Friday, the opening round of the TOURNAMENT OF MADNESS will be waged in this very blog. Begin rubbing your palms together vertically in cartoonish spectacles of excitement.

Lastly, a Quick Poem for a Homeless Man I Saw on the Street This Morning

Overcast and in the nook
aloft, a cardboard sign: I'm Hungry.
The girl enlists your twisted head-
dirty, damp, and tensed with shouts
I can't hear for a Purple Bottle's
tones, but I relate until
the man from Cuba's cardboard sign
speaks to quandaries unresolved
and understood by those like you
or the insane, but not by us-
and not on days like these, so long.

TOURNAMENT OF MADNESS: WEST REGION

(1) Google

After taking over nearly all facets of internet life, the monolothic Google Conglomerate has its sights set on the first TOURNAMENT OF MADNESS championship. Analysts aren't sure what's most terrifying about this search-engine giant; the fact that it defeated all cyber-rivals by enormous margins, or the fact that it did so using only YouTube. In the now-legendary World Wide Web semis, Google dispatched AskJeeves.com in record time with a three minute video of an excited child atonally strumming a toy guitar while shouting the lyrics to "Rock-a-Bye-Baby." Later, in the championship against Yahoo, Google finished the job with footage from a seventeen year old girl's bedroom webcam. And here's the amazing part: she wasn't even home. With most of its arsenal still hidden, future opponents are left wondering how to cope with such theoretical offensive maneuvers as Blogger or Google Earth.


(2) Unreliable Husbands of the Old West

Whether they were drinking away sorely-needed money at the local saloon, having a bad run of luck at poker, or sampling the newest whore in from Cleveland, these irresolute men continually damned their wives and children to lives of anxious poverty. They could be counted upon to pick drunken fights with skillful gunmen, often resulting in premature death and permanent hardship for their surviving loved ones. Even if they managed to survive despite themselves, their wandering ways would leave family members deserted for long stretches. Yet from the first shot of soiled whiskey to their eventual rough submersion in a horse's watering trough, these no-account idlers sure had a rootin' good time. For that, they are a sentimental, yet very vulnerable, 2-seed.


(3) Bread

It is a misguided soul indeed who doubts the utility of bread, this year's three-seed in the West Region. The well-established foundation of all food, Bread defeated upstart contender Eggs to reach the tournament. Packed with various grains, and leavened when necessary, bread is the ubiquitous serve-all which has defined the relationship between humans and food since the dawn of civilization. Its success continued almost unchecked until the 1930s, when it was spurned by Mohandas Gandhi during his first hunger strike. Some historians believe that Bread's anger at this slight led it to collaborate with Hindu radicals in the holy man's eventual assassination. Indeed, Nathuram Godse, the killer, was found to have rye crumbs on his clothing shortly after the fatal shooting. Since that incident, Bread has strengthened its hold on the comestibles industry and lost only four matches, three of them to the video game "Donkey Kong."


(4) Flowery Language

Perfected by female novelists of the 18th and early 19th centuries, Flowery Language retains its influence in the work of precocious, infatuated teens. Spurred by an army of lovesick estrogen, it defeated Laconic, Tough-Guy Hemingway Prose and Rambling, Nonsensical Kerouac Bullshit in the finals of the Shitty Writing division. Flowery Language's confidence is at an all-time high, as shown by the bold declamation of an anonymous supporter: "Like the morning honeydew, sweltering in a miasma of midsummer lilac, christening passerby with invisible aspergillum thrusts, filtering its sugar-sweet aromas upon the ardent forms of auroral lovers, so too shall we ripen and burst, afloat like the graceful waxwain, showering enchantment and stardust from the cloudless azure of our pristine empyrean."


(5) Outer Space, as Conceived by Ignorant, Poor, Elizabethan-era Cockneys

Basically, it's a terrifying two-dimensional dream of sinister creatures with thousands of teeth, black skin, and godless agendas.


(6) Newt Gingrich

After winning Time's Man of the Year in 1995 for his work in propelling the Republican's to congressional power, Gingrich went on to lead the fight against President Bill Clinton's marital indiscretions. Soon thereafter, he asked his cancer-stricken wife for a divorce in order to legitimize an affair with a younger woman. Ethics violations eventually forced him to resign from the House, but after writing a book about what would have happened if the Nazis won World War II, he's poised to run for president in 2008. Political pundits say the strength of his candidacy will depend largely on whether he can defeat Bread in the first round.


(7) Awkward Silence

...


(8) All-Male A Capella Groups

Full of smiling, bobbing, golden-throated crooners, these dapper young octets have captured the hearts of easily-swayed college girls across the nation. Members are known for having soft sides, volunteering for charity, succeeding wildly when visiting a girlfriend's parents on Thanksgiving break, graduating with honors, writing emotional wedding vows, coaching Little League, fidelity, attending church, helping elderly neighbors with yard work, and being convicted on fourteen counts of child molestation at age 47.



THE WEST REGION


(1) Google
vs.
(8) All-Male A Cappela Groups


(4) Flowery Language
vs.
(5) Outer Space, as Conceived by Ignorant, Poor, Elizabethan-era Cockneys


(3) Bread
vs.
(6) Newt Gingrich


(2) Unreliable Husbands of the Old West
vs.
(7) Awkward Silence

TOURNAMENT OF MADNESS: MIDWEST REGION

(1) The Rosetta Stone

A stone slab discovered in Egypt in 1799, the Rosetta Stone is inscribed with a long blustering declaration from an ancient king. Despite the fact that it was translated in 1822, it has virtually no meaning to anyone currently alive. The gist of the text is that Ptolemy V named his entire family tree and then claimed that the Gods gave his family line eternal power. Although history belied this notion, the Rosetta Stone found great success in modern competition, storming through the 2007 regular season and handing The Word Diffident (south region) its only loss along the way. The stone's signature move is falling on its opponent.


(2) Tiger Woods, Derek Jeter, and Tom Brokaw

This unlikely trio were the surprise of the league, shaking off a poor start before asserting themselves as a legitimate force. Brokaw's reverent tales of World War Two heroics, combined with Woods' and Jeter's respectful reactions, supplanted their previous strategy, which entailed Woods hitting golf balls at Jeter, who would attempt to field them while Brokaw danced in the background wearing tinker's garb. The change propelled them to the upper echelons, and they are considered a fearsome tournament match-up. Critics of the team point out that Woods has seemed increasingly bored, and that several of Brokaw's stories contain outrageous details, such as the allegation that Italian leader Benito Mussolini founded the United States Postal Service.


(3) Greenery Day in Japan

The rough equivalent of America's 'Arbor Day,' Greenery Day in Japan celebrates Emperor Hirohito's love of nature. Citizens are urged to spend the day outside, planting trees and engaging in other eco-friendly activities. Unlike the stateside holiday, those who don't take the suggestion are subject to criminal penalty, up to and including three months in prison. Participation is so wide-spread, in fact, that the government is often forced to remove new trees due to an overabundance of oxygen. Additionally, the aftermath in 1998 included a plague of bonsai locusts, which lasted for the better part of three years and was declared Japan's biggest disaster since the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.


(4) Derisive Laughter

The old axiom "laughter is the best medicine" was upheld this season, with the self-proclaimed "expression of cruel and cynical merriment" defeating long-time powerhouses Aspirin, Amputation, and Chemotherapy on the way to capturing the Medical Division Crown. Many traditionalists were upset that Derisive Laughter was included in the Medical Division at all, claiming that a tenuous connection based on an old cliche is not sufficient grounds for inclusion, especially when the participant is an offshoot of the original idea. Regardless, Derisive Laughter put these critics to rest with its patented "Are You Serious?" offense, which included incredulous questions followed by exclamations of disbelief, quickly seguing into loud guffaws at the expense of others. Most of Derisive Laughter's victories resulted from a shattering of the opposition's self-esteem.


(5) Bobbing for Apples

A Halloween tradition for children, bobbing for apples involves ducking one's head into a barrel of water and trying to obtain an apple using only lips, teeth, and sometimes a nose. Because multiple youths engage in the game at once, collisions occur with some frequency, rendering the game dangerous. It is also severely unsanitary. Nevertheless, the foolish whimsy endeared the game to the COMMITTEE OF MADNESS, who couldn't resist giving the delightful spectacle a five-seed.


(6) The Expression "Whatever, Dude"

In common usage since 1984, "whatever, dude" has been the battle cry of insolent teens, disaffected depressives, and adaptable, unopinionated friends. It is capable of summing up a lifestyle in three succinct syllables, and infuriating parties outside the speaker's immediate circle. The Expression "Whatever, Dude" has an impressive list of victims this season, including the Parent-Teacher Association (PTA), Frustrated Therapists, and Friends who Like to Plan Shit Out and Have a Little Fucking Input So They Don't Have to do Everything Themselves. The expression's devil-may-care attitude is expected to clash with the harsh discipline of its first round opponent, Greenery Day in Japan.


(7) Toothpaste

It was another good year for toothpaste, which easily maintained its status as the world's leading teeth-cleaning ingredient. Since 1992, when the "Fluoride in School" movement came to an end, toothpaste has never been truly challenged for oral dominance. It was rumored to be considering an alliance with chewing gum in late December, but this reportedly fell through when the parties failed to reach an agreement regarding the status of Big League Chew. This failure notwithstanding, Toothpoaste earned an automatic bid to the TOURNAMENT OF MADNESS after an easy victory over Mouthwash in the Dental Hygiene final. It will open against Tiger Woods, Derek Jeter, and Tom Brokaw.


(8) Babe the Blue Ox

Paul Bunyan's one-time companion, Babe the Blue Ox has fallen on hard times since the giant lumberjack's death in the spring of 2003. Universally unwanted, he wanders the western hemisphere from Patagonia to the Yukon, seeking friends. The American and Canadian governments have recently discussed plans to euthanize the animal, but to date nothing has been finalized. In a cruel irony, Babe is worshipped in most parts of Africa, but is too large to cross the ocean.


THE MIDWEST REGION


(1) The Rosetta Stone
vs.
(8) Babe the Blue Ox


(4) Derisive Laughter
vs.
(5) Bobbing for Apples


(3) Greenery Day in Japan
vs.
(6) The Expression "Whatever, Dude"


(2) Tiger Woods, Derek Jeter, and Tom Brokaw
vs.
(7) Toothpaste