I like history.

I have always liked history.

And although it is on another, very grim topic, this, in my opinion, is an beautifully written piece of history.  So is this.  But when I was trying–and failing–to get my PhD in–you guessed it!–history, I was told that, over and over, that I was defining history incorrectly.

However, I am really quite certain that last night actually does fall into the category of history.    Setting aside any personal political preferences I may or may not have, my response is: mazel tov!

As far as I can tell, no one has more fun than these guys.  I never imagined a world where the Red Sox would get to celebrate, on a regular basis.  Life as a Red Sox fan always felt like this.

But, last night, something extra-special happened.  Two years ago, Jon Lester was a twenty-two year old rookie–with some back pain.  Unfortunately, to the shock of everyone involved, the diagnosis turned out to be cancer.  (Mike Lowell, the Red Sox third baseman, is also a cancer survivor, as it happens.)   Thankfully, he was able to fight the disease off, and resume his career–and in October 2007, guess who won the last game of the World Series?  Yes, that would be Jon Lester.

And last night, the man (nope, I’m not going to call him a “kid,” because I think he’s a Man) threw a no-hitter.  The last time a Red Sox left-hander accomplished that feat was in 1956.  So, what Mr. Lester did was very special–and his back-story only makes it more so.   It was great.  Really, really great.

This week, another young Red Sox player was diagnosed with cancer, and I just heard the sad news about Ted Kennedy, also.  And we can’t forget all of the people who are bravely fighting this disease (and other terrible diseases), day in and day out–but, not in the public eye.  I know–and admire–a few of them; I bet you do, too.

I am going to go right now and send a donation to one of my favorite charities, The Jimmy Fund.

I am not enjoying this campaign cycle.  I am not looking forward to November.  I have actually been surly and a bit short-tempered lately, as a direct result, which is–one likes to think–somewhat out of character.  So, it’s clearly time for a break.

Lucky for me, the Beloved Team can fill the breach!  After the long trip to Japan, the bizarre exhibition games in Los Angeles, and now, games in Oakland and Toronto, I expect the team to be somewhat sluggish out of the gate, but it’s a long season, and many days and nights of fun await one and all.  Recently, I happened to be talking to a Yankees fan (the team also known as The Evil Ones) on the street and was able to say, very kindly, something to the effect of “You all have a nice, little team.  Perhaps one of these years, you will be able to win a pennant again.”  Frankly, it made my day.  Possibly my century.

I saw Stop-Loss, and recommend it, but without wild enthusiasm.  It’s certainly not a great movie–and it might not even be a good one, but it’s a strong, and probably unnecessary, reminder that the situation in Iraq is an absolute disaster, and is almost certainly going to continue to be so for many, many years.  And Joseph Gordon-Levitt has–somewhat to my surprise, since I mostly just associate him with the fluffy, if fun, Third Rock from the Sun–become quite an interesting actor.

For anyone who hasn’t already heard that Joss Whedon has a new show coming out, starring Eliza Dushku, the plot sounds intriguing and I have already begun my official countdown, as I wait for the first episode to air. Ever since Ms. Dushku first swaggered onto the screen as Faith, I’ve been a fan, and am curious to see whether she really does have the untapped range I suspect lurks somewhere inside.

I enjoyed a Del’s Lemonade over the weekend.  It was from a mix, I think, and so, lacked the pieces of fresh lemon a sensible person prefers–but, I was still delighted to drink it.

And life is good when you get to have a traditional New England supper on a Saturday night.  Ours included home-made cole-slaw, with no mayonnaise, of course–since it is well-known among my people that the substance almost always dooms your salad to utter mediocrity.

Yesterday, a pal alerted me to the fact that Drugs are probably Bad.  Be warned!

I want to wake up, and have Al Gore getting ready to finish his second term. We all have health care. The economy continues to operate with a large surplus. The Kyoto Accord has been scrapped–because it wasn’t ambitious enough, and the new treaty is much better. Since we now have independent, renewable sources of energy, Saudi Arabia has lost much of its influence–and the rulers have been forced to start being nicer to women. (of all things!) Saddam is probably still in power, but he’s a completely marginalized loon, and the Gore Administration has been focused on trying to help Israel’s neighbors learn how to co-exist with an actual staunch democracy, and treat other countries in the region as genuine allies.

Many things have happened during the past eight years, but the best part of all is that the World Trade Center is standing right where it always was. It’s still not attractive, but it’s tall, and we’re fond of it, and thousands of people go to work there every day–and come home safely at night.

Sigh.

Instead, we’re living in a nightmare, and increasingly, Democrats are part of the problem. I’m not sure I want to post any links, because even space aliens have been sitting at their dinner tables all week saying, “whoa, this is out of control, when’s Opening Day?” (Side-note: life really is topsy-turvy, because President Bush was pretty funny.)

And James Carville is suddenly the voice of reason. I’m starting to think that we actually are living in a world without shrimp.

My grandmother–a person I miss absolutely every day–used to have a saying, “God don’t love ugly.” Mostly, she said it when my sisters and I quarreled–which was often. And if she were watching this current election campaign, I believe she would have me pour her some more sherry and say, “Honey, let’s put on some stories.” (”Stories,” being soap operas or television dramas.) We would be entertained. We would enjoy snacks. Life would be delightful.

I was watching CNN today, which showed a very lengthy clip of an angry reverend’s sermon, after which, the commentator said–with no sense of irony, “That was given on December 25th, 2007″ or words to that effect. In other words, it was Christmas. Which, within the context of the Christian faith, is generally considered kind of a Happy Day. Instead, the parishioners were bombarded with a stream of invective. I have to say, that is not a church I would attend twice–nor would I buy the CDs/DVDs/whatever, in order to listen to the shouting again at my leisure. (So, it goes without saying that I would not go again and again for twenty years–until, finally, my own personal ambition forced me to take the spiritual mentor from whom I purloined the title of my best-selling book–and throw him under a bus.)

This, of course, after tossing Samantha Power onto the subway tracks, while the other campaign hurled Geraldine Ferraro out of an airplane–and, well, God don’t love ugly. (obviously, insert your own higher-power-of-choice–or no higher power whatsoever–into that statement, to make it fit within your personal belief system.)

Can the grown-ups come out and play now? Are there any grown-ups left?

Here is what I think is going to happen. Senator Obama will be the nominee in November–and he will lose. It won’t be pretty, and if Senator McCain is wily enough to pick Colin Powell or Elizabeth Dole or someone of similar stature as a running mate, it will be an absolute landslide. You can crunch the numbers right and left, but Senator Clinton isn’t going to be able to pull the Democratic nomination out–without half of the Party sitting at home in November and sulking, as they toss their beanbags up and down in the air. I think the smart move would have been for her to pull out quite some time ago, let Senator Obama take the complete blame for the upcoming November debacle, and then learn from her mistakes and run a much better campaign in 2012. But, I’m pretty sure she is going to keep scuffling all the way to Denver–and the end result will be that two potentially fine Presidents are going to crash and burn. There’s something to be said for being a statesman or woman–and I sure as hell haven’t seen one in either campaign lately.

So disappointing. So unnecessary. So incredibly short-sighted, and stupid. The only thing I can say with reasonable certainty is that I have no intention of voting for anyone I do not consider a grown-up. Which puts me in quite a pickle.

All things being equal, I found this site more interesting than anything else I read today–although it is, by no means, cheery.

However, I was here recently, and it was excellent.

And I don’t like the war, but this is cool.

Finally saw Juno. Totally dug it. If I were ever involved with a movie–a scenario I do not anticipate, frankly–I would want Ellen Page to be in it. I am looking forward to seeing Smart People next month.

Which, famously, describes our current President–and, I’m afraid, also describes Senator Obama. Too much hubris, not enough policy details. Or even any. Granted, the left-wing version of the current Administration would be an improvement over the last seven years, but unless McCain picks Huckabee as his running mate and frightens everyone, I think we may be looking at a Republican landslide.

I’m not a huge fan of its author, but this is a good piece.

I am, however, extremely fond of Mr. Krugman.

Everywhere I went on Super Tuesday, I ran into Obama supporters, who were literally running around in circles and screaming “Yes, we can!” with glazed looks in their eyes. At best, it was embarrassing, but it also felt–deranged. I would love to be inspired by a candidate, and feel wildly excited and so forth–but, not to the point of losing reason. Surely, there is something to be said for dignity? Call me crazy, but I want an adult to run the country. A sensible one. In any case, I feel as though lately, life has been one demoralizing defeat after another. (I will not discuss–now or ever–what happened to a team which will go unmentioned until next season. But, I took it hard. There might even have been a bit of weeping involved.)

Apropos of nothing in particular, she continues to be a mysterious, somewhat perplexing figure.

My friend Barbara sent me a very funny card from this site. If you have the right kind of slightly sick sense of humor, I highly recommend it.

For those of us who like photography, this is kind of neat. They’re starting their second series of 100 on Monday.

And, if you were very kindly making up a gift list for me–which is always a delightful idea–please put this at the top. I did not know, until I became a bit of a photography wonk, that one can lust for gear. I am currently saving up for a 300mm 2.8 lens–and expect to be able to afford one in no more than two or three years. Sigh.

If you are sensible enough to be a Battlestar Galactica fan, you will enjoy this. Dark is good. And, I don’t care what anyone says–Anders is wicked handsome.

This makes life worth living.

[Note from the Webmaster: I've closed comments on this one for ease of discussion. Please head on over to the Politics thread on the MB.  Since I'm about to go out of town for the weekend, I've temporarily reconfigured the board so that administrator approval is not required. Everybody have a great weekend and play nice! ]

And if it’s wrong, do I want to be right? Probably not. It’s always good to get a different point of view, and I like to see their perspective on various situations.

Which is the same reason that I read the New York Post. No, that is a lie. This is why I read the New York Post.

In any case, Al Jazeera is often a must-read for me, and from there, I generally head to the BBC, which reported this oddity today. (I saw it elsewhere, also–but, hey, I like the BBC.)

Then, ultimately, I ended up here, which was a short hop to my all-time favorite photo of President Bush.  Be afraid. Be very afraid.  Arguably, though, that one shot sums up the man’s entire Presidency.  (And–it’s not a purse, damn it!)

On my travels, I also came across this article, which I thought was very cool, indeed. Although I suppose the case could be made that it will be even more cool when people no longer write articles about such things. But, it reminded me of this story from last year. And then, suddenly, I ended up here. Oh, goodness me.

So. Is the Internet the biggest time-suck there is in the history of the world, or what?

And, I am sorry to say, Ebay is the Devil’s Tool.

Big game tomorrow night. Wicked big game. Can’t wait.

After months of huffing and puffing, we now have some Actual Results–and I, for one, was left disappointed in a way that I don’t think I would have predicted, even though I’m pretty sure we’re all supposed to be really happy. In fact, my friend Barbara and I spent a very long time on the telephone afterwards, moping and fretting and engaging in pre-game analysis of New Hampshire, South Carolina, and Nevada. Is it, in the end, about really wanting a woman to win, even if one is not a huge fan of the particular person running? Possibly so, because I felt a certain sense of despair watching her get trounced. (Third place, and 9 percentage points behind, with 100% of the precincts reporting. Wow. Are heads rolling up and down the aisle of the campaign plane tonight? One can only assume so.)

And–yes–I’m disappointed. Miles to go before we sleep, and all of that–but, disappointed. Granted, my horse, Senator Feingold, wasn’t even in the race, but it doesn’t seem like a good sign when you’re sitting around thinking, well, okay, if the junior Senator from Illinois with no legislative accomplishments whatsoever–and a disgraceful attendance record, to boot–wins the Big Prize, at least he’s smart, and that will be a nice change.

Barack reminds me of the guy with whom you have an absolutely glorious first date, and you run home and tell everyone you know that you met someone intelligent, and good-looking, and funny, and he’s perfect, and they should maybe start saving up for your favorite silverware–except then, you go out with him again. And you’re dying to fall in love with him, because on paper, he just seems so wonderful–but, for some reason, privately, you’re already losing interest, and like Buffy, you’re kind of going through the motions. And, your loved ones say, gosh, you have not mentioned Barack at all lately, what’s up with that?–and you sigh and shrug, and mumble a lot.

Which was an embarrassingly banal description, but I am from New England, and many of My People are not good at expressing the way we feel about things.

Maureen Dowd did a fine job, though, and quite effectively pinned down part of what is bothering me the most about the winner of the Iowa Caucus–and the person who came in third. (is it wrong to say that the notion of 4–or 8–years of Michelle just makes me tired? In fact, even writing those words means that I may have to go over to the cupboard and help myself to some of The Wonder Drug immediately. The Caucus has only been over for a few hours–and I already want her to go away and leave me alone. Which was true the very first time I saw her interviewed, actually. Way too passive-aggressive–and simultaneously garden-variety aggressive, to wear well over the long haul. Or, in my case, the very short haul.)

But, regardless, it has all Begun–and until February 5th, we are looking at non-stop pundits, and talking points. Sigh. Deep sigh. Exhaustion. More Wonder Drug. And, perhaps, I’ll chase that with a glass of Rhode Island Elixir.

Is anyone else awfully damn sick of the word “Change” every four seconds? It beats “Tyranny,” a word I have come to despise during the past seven years–but, not by much.

By the way, Mike Huckabee won, too. I kind of like the guy, but I still laughed my head off.

On a more positive note, the Red Sox have not traded Jacoby Ellsbury yet, and a week ago, I was lucky enough to witness this, from the second-to-the-last row of the stadium. Although the friend I was with would assure you otherwise, (I was grouchy and tense and no fun at all for more than three full quarters), I enjoyed the game very much, once Eli finally coughed up the predictable crucial interception.

Forget February 5th; I am waiting for January 12th.

It’s hard to take the Iowa Caucus seriously, because it’s so random and idiosyncratic. A victory probably only means something, if the candidate comes out of nowhere–which seems highly unlikely in this perpetually media-saturated election cycle. Huckabee is a possbility, but at this point, that doesn’t seem that unexpected anymore. (Novak says,Huckabee ‘clearly departs from the mainstream of the conservative movement in his confusion of “growth” with “greed,”‘ which makes me wonder whether he’s more worried about his stock portfolio than anything else.) I love politics–but, I have to admit, I’m getting sort of tired of this endless horse race. Even this news made me say, okay, whatever, it’s about time.

But, this article–and the show itself–both made me giggle. The whole thing was, for lack of a better phrase, pointlessness-squared. This, however, made me sad–and, like many of us, I wasted some time mired in what-might-have-been. (Personally, I think Lower Manhattan would still be intact.) In any case, this article–while quite long, and probably very old news–is still well worth reading, and the follow-up is, too.

I’m not sure if this should have offended me–but, it did.

On a more cheery note, the Patriots hung on for a tough win yesterday. Which is good, because NFL games shouldn’t be easy.

Razor finally aired this weekend, but alas, it will be many months before we will be able to see another new Battlestar episode. Until then, I will have to speculate and natter on, with others of my kind, at this entertaining site.

Sometimes, I think I would very much like to pursue another career, so this caught my attention. I wonder if British citizenship is required.

I woke up very upset this morning, because I dreamed–in detail–that the Cleveland Indians had won the pennant, not Boston.  And I kept saying, “No, no, I was there. I know the Red Sox won.” And they (no, I don’t know who “they” were, but they were mean) kept looking at me with pity, and explaining that I had not, in fact, been at Games 6 & 7, and that the Red Sox had gone down in defeat.

It was quite dislocating, but I’m certain I was sitting in Fenway Park this weekend–mostly, in remarkably good seats. 

Exhibit A (sadly lacking the needed 2.8 aperture):

Exhibit B:

I can also attest to the fact that Greyhound buses are not particularly comfortable, and sometimes, people who ride on them overnight spend the next couple of days hunched over with unpleasant lower back spasms.

Is there something wrong with me if I think this is kind of weird?  Maybe it’s just as well that I didn’t move to Denver some years back, with the notion that I would ski every single possible day.  (I actually really like the area, and considered relocating quite seriously.)

And that I found this somewhat unsettling, too?  Possibly because, in almost every single case, the woman in question would be a better candidate than her husband. 

The Denver Post asks a pretty good question here.  I don’t know the answer.  Although this is kind of encouraging, and this is, too.  While I find this annoying.  And cloying.

I used to live in California.  I am very fond of California.  Let’s hope the winds finally stop blowing.  Scary stuff.