I know, we all thought it seemed like a fun, cool idea at the time. But in retrospect, I think it was a mistake to build this city on rock and roll. Don't get me wrong, I think this city has the best rock and roll in the world, no doubt. But I think basing our entire town's existence on it has hindered some other important things a town really should concentrate on.

For instance, I don't think it's been good for local business to have operating hours of "whenever, dude!" The grocery stores carry little else but Cheetos, beer, and energy drinks. The art museum has nothing but Roger Dean paintings in it.

You'd think a town built on rock and roll would attract a lot of tourism, but that has not proven the case. The festival we planned to attract more out-of-town visitors, Knee Deep in the Hoopla Days, was poorly attended. Mainly because the advertising for said festival consisted of 50 xeroxed fliers stapled to telephone poles.

Then again, there's little reason for tourists to come here when city services are so bad. Public transportation is both uncomfortable and unreliable, as it consists of a fleet of 15-year-old Dodge vans. The sanitation commissioner has promised to start trash pickup "when I get a chance, man". Public health initiatives are limited to the establishment of a few "crash pads" downtown, and couch space schedules have proven difficult to maintain. The school system was not served well by the previous administration's "we don't need no education" initiative.

Not to mention the oldest part of town, our crumbling downtown district, which is literally built on rock and roll. Vinyl discs and album sleeves are not reliable building materials. And most of the records wouldn't even rate an F on the Goldmine scale these days. But the mayor won't tear it down because he doesn't want to  "ride wrecking balls into our guitars".

Worst of all, the local radio station plays nothing but guys' demo cassettes. Unbearable.

This morning, as I dropped The Baby off at day care, another parent was talking to one of the teachers about her kid. Apparently, he'd been "bad" the day before, committing transgressions such as pouring an entire juice box into a Little People dollhouse (which I, of course, found hilarious). He also threw a block at an unnamed girl, which prompted said girl to smack him in retaliation.

"It think I know who that girl was," the teacher said, and gave my daughter a knowing look.

This troubled me, so I bent low and asked The Baby if she'd hit this kid. Her answer was unclear, but her hemming and hawing suggested that she probably had. "You shouldn't do that," I told her. "If somebody hits you, tell the teacher."

"But it's good if she sticks up for herself!" the teacher said, clearly not bothered by any of this.

"Yeah, but she can stick up for herself without smacking somebody," I responded.

"It's okay," the mom said, lowering herself to eye level with The Baby. "If [KID'S NAME] does that again, you can hit him. He deserved it!"

Thanks, Other Kid's Mom! You just gave my kid license to hit your kid whenever she wants! Just because you said she should only do it when your kid "deserves" it, that doesn't mean she will, or that she's a capable judge of when retribution is called for. I saw her once charge across the room at another kid because she thought he looked at her funny. (By the way, there is nothing more simultaneously adorable and terrifying as a baby on a rampage.)

Also, once you say something to a three-year-old, it can not be unsaid or dislodged from their brain. Did you once say it was okay to eat jellybeans before dinner? You now have a kid who expects to eat jellybeans before dinner every single night for the rest of their live, because you said something in passing once.

And this is all happening at 7:30 in the morning, people. I am in no state of mind to start an argument over conflict resolution among three-year-olds, or to simply tell this other parent to mind their own beeswax. I just wanna kiss The Baby goodbye and drive to work without getting sideswiped by a Hasidic school bus (the deadliest vehicles on the Williamsburg streets).

So I just said, "Well, I gotta head to work now," hugged The Baby and went on my way. I fully expect to be punched in the head when I get home tonight.

Game 4: Mets 6, Nationals 4
The Fake Nationals scratched out two early runs against starter Mike Pelfrey, but he settled in and pitched 7 strong innings, allowing the Fake Mets to rally for three runs in the bottom of the fourth. Carlos Beltran clubbed a two-run homer in the bottom of the fifth to extend the lead, and the Fake Mets managed an insurance run in the eighth on an Omir Santos sac fly. Pedro Feliciano pitched a scoreless top of the eighth, and K-Rod earned his first save of the year despite giving up a run in the ninth.

In real life: An uncharacteristic show of power enabled the Mets to overcome an early 2-0 deficit. Jeff Francoeur and Rod Barajas each hit two homers en route to an 8-2 win.

Game 5: Nationals 3, Mets 1
Fake Jon Niese pitched six solid innings and gave up just three runs, but the Fake Mets' bats were lulled to sleep by Ross Detwiler.

In real life: Oliver Perez showed some signs of life but also displayed his affinity for walks and giving up hits to the bottom of the order. The formerly terrible Willy Taveras drove in all the Nats' runs with a pair of two-run hits. The Mets nearly crawled back in the bottom in the ninth, but were slayed by--what else?--an amazing defensive play by Willie Harris, whose sole purpose for being on any major league roster is to crush their hopes.

Game 6: Nationals 2, Mets 0
Fake John Lannan was in control the entire game, scattering six hits and pitching a complete game shutout. Fake Johan Santana pitched eight good innings, but got burned by back-to-back two-out RBI singles in the top of the sixth. A potential rally was snuffed in the bottom of the sixth when Fake David Wright, after beating out an infield hit, kept running the bases to second, then third, and was finally tagged out. I tried to make him run back, to no avail. I have no idea how this happened or why, but I thought it was so funny I just let it happen.

In real life: Johan Santana was not nearly as sharp as his fake counterpart, giving up a first inning grand slam to Josh Willingham (another Met killer) and struggling his way through five innings. The Mets didn't so much face Livan Hernandez as lay down and die for him (or Jerry Manuel did, at least, by giving an insane amount of at-bats to Garry Matthews Jr., Mike Jacobs, and Frank Catalanotto). The only sign of a pulse came when K-Rod hit Willie Harris in the arm with a pitch--not on purpose, of course, but you can understand why he might think it was (or why the Mets might want to hit him).

Parallel Universe Fake Mets record: 2-4

Real Mets record: 2-4

It's Friday! Procrastinate and count down to happy hour with these lovely bits.

Earlier this week, a video debuted for a song by esteemed musicians Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope--collectively known as the Insane Clown Posse. It was immediately shared across the Twitterverse and the Faced-Book pages as an example of majestic stupidity.

By now, pointing out ICP's lack of talent or smarts is--while incredibly easy and fun--almost cliche. Between The Best Show's skewering of The Gathering of the Juggalos, Saturday Night Live's take on a suspiciously similar subject, and general internet snark, this is not exactly uncharted comedic territory. And even though they have a cult audience, they're not chart toppers, so mocking them seems pointless and a little mean.

But this video...holy goddamn, this thing is...words fail.

Truth be told, it's not really the video itself, which has some cheesy graphics but isn't all that funny on its own. No, it's the song featured in the video, "Miracles". It's about the extraordinary features of everyday life. It sounds like a musical version of a Mitch Albom book, but with tons of F-bombs.

Kudos to ICP for trying to get deep, but very few things mentioned in this video count as "miracles". Almost all of them can be explained with some basic science. That doesn't prevent Shaggy 2 Dope from wondering, "Fuckin' magnets, how do they work?" And Violent J shares his tale of the time a seagull in San Francisco stole his cell phone, which is less of a miracle and more of mildly amusing anecdote.

But maybe it's me. Maybe I'm the jaded, cynical one. Maybe I'm the guy just can't see the miracles of "fuckin rainbows" and "pet dogs and cats". Watch the video and judge for yourself.



Have you see the new Tiger Woods Nike commercial? You'll love it if you like Inappropriate. In it. the disembodied voice of Tiger's father, Earl Woods, admonishes him, as the camera slowly pulls in on his face as he looks stoic and competitive. Did you know Earl Woods is dead? Yeah, he's dead. That, plus Tiger's dead-eyed stare, make this really uncomfortable to watch.

Naturally, this has inspired almost as many re-workings as the bunker scene in Downfall. My favorite: This one, which uses a certain speech from Shawshank Redemption. (This is un-embeddable, but I forgive you, whoever you are.)

For future installments of The Parallel Universe Fake Mets, I hope to have little screencaps and so forth. That was not possible for these entries, because as I mentioned earlier this week, this week has been a bitch and a half. For now, you'll have to make do with this realistic animation of Luis Castillo getting forced out at second.

One aspect of the unfairness of MLB10:The Show I forgot about in my first post: If you throw a breaking pitch, there's a 50 percent chance it will skip past the catcher. Regardless of the pitcher, regardless of the catcher, there are a huge amount of wild pitches/passed balls in this game.

Game 1: Fake Marlins 4, Fake Mets 2
The Fake Mets jumped out to an early lead on Josh Johnson, when Jose Reyes led off with an infield single, moved to second on an errant throw, and scored on a David Wright RBI single. But the Marlins stormed back with four straight hits against Johan Santana in the top of the third, sparked by a leadoff single by Johnson of all people (pitchers in this game are way better hitters than their real life counterparts), and the Fake Marlins went up 3-1. Carlos Beltran thrilled the crowd with an inside-the-park homerun (aided by Chris Coghlan bouncing off the left field wall), but Cody Ross hit an out-of-the-park homer of his own, and the Fake Mets could not catch up, getting just one more hit the rest of the way.

In real life: Amazingly, the Real Mets managed to beat Josh Johnson for the first time. Wright hit a two-run homer in the bottom of the first, Santana was his usual sharp self, and the Mets capitalized on some typically shoddy Marlins defense to cruise to a 7-1 win.

Game 2: Fake Mets 2, Fake Marlins 1
Fake Mike Pelfrey was sharp through 7 innings, and David Wright clubbed a two-run homer off of Ricky Nolasco to provide all the offense the Mets would need. The one run Pelfrey "allowed" should not have scored at all. John Baker hit a ball up the middle, and I tried to make Jose Reyes dive at the ball. But what often happens in The Show is that the computer switches your fielders very quickly. By the time I was diving, my fielding capabilities had already transfered to Carlos Beltran. That meant Carlos was sprawled out on the turf instead of chasing down Baker's grounder, and he got a gift double, then moved to third on another grounder and scored on a sac fly. Pedro Feliciano and Kelvim Escobar combined for a scoreless eighth, and Frankie Rodriguez set down the Fake Marlins 1-2-3 in the ninth for his first fake save of the year.

In real life: John Maine struggled through five innings, ceding four runs and falling behind every batter he faced, and the bullpen let up two more (including Jennry Mejia in his MLB debut). The Mets somehow "rallied" to tie the game at 6, thanks to a leaky, wild Marlins bullpen. But the Marlins took a lead in the top of the tenth, and the Mets went down quietly in the bottom half.

Game 3: Fake Marlins 5, Fake Mets 3
Fake Oliver Perez was pretty much what you might expect, and struggled through five innings, giving up three runs. The Fake Mets rallied against Anibal Sanchez, taking advantage of two walks in the bottom of the fifth to score two runs, then tie it up on a Jeff Francoeur homer in the sixth. But set-up man Kelvim Escobar got slapped around for two runs in the top of the eighth, and the Fake Mets could not recover.

In real life: Jon Niese had a decent debut, which might have looked even better if he had any defense behind him. He gave up three runs over six innings, but the anemic Mets bats couldn't catch up and never mounted any threat against Nate Robertson or the suddenly unhittable Marlins bullpen.

Parallel Universe Fake Mets record: 1-2

Real Mets record: 1-2

Governor McDonnell here! I wanna let alla y'all know that April is officially Confederate History Month in the Great Commonwealth of Virginia. Or Virginny, as my grandpappy used to call it. He didn't have much of what you might call book learnin', and he liked to get in fights with parking meters, and he used to drink gasoline with his evenin' vittles, but he was still a good son of The South. Though he mighta been born in Springfield, Massachusetts, now that I think about it. But I'm not here to talk about the past. I'm here to talk about history!

Confederate History Month will celebrate all the brave men who defended their homeland against invading aggressors from a foul foreign land: The North. Yes, Northerners are different from Southerners, and that's the way God intended it. If not, why'd He put the North all the way up there?

No, The South did not want this war. Our leaders did everything they could to prevent it from happening: Fomenting bloodshed in Kansas, refusing to compromise on any slavery issue, beating a senator savagely with a cane, and several other things that escape me at this moment.

The South believed there should be two Americas. Those who liked snow and books could have The North, and those who liked mint juleps and rigid social strata could have The South. Just like another proud son of The South, Colonel Sanders, thought Americans should be able to enjoy extra crispy and original recipe.

But for some reason, The North didn't like this idea. How else could The South have proved the merits of this glorious experiement unless we seceded and took up arms against our former countrymen? If you have a better idea, I'm all ears!

We have many exciting events planned for Confederate History Month. First, we're gonna take down all these damn Yankee stars and stripes and burn 'em, just like our ancestors did. This will be okay because I declare for the next month that Virginny ain't a part of the Union! Then we're gonna replace them wretched things with the good ol' stars and bars. Hang 'em from every window in the governor's mansion! And then we're gonna crank some Molly Hatchet.

One thing our celebration will not involve is any mention of slavery. I don't think it was a significant part of Confederate history. Some might say it's the reason why the whole war started. And when I say "some", I'm referring to every historian ever. But that doesn't make it significant.

Is milk a significant part of cheese? Is water a significant part of ice? Once something is transformed into something else, what caused that to happen is of no concern to us. History isn't about figuring why things happened. It's about puttin' on funny ol' timey costumes and charging 20 bucks a head to look at an old cannon.

And while we're at it, let's get rid of those ingredient panels on boxes of food. They just mess with your mind!

I'm also introducing legislation to celebrate the heroes who resisted that second heinous act of Yankee aggression, the so-called Civil Rights Movement. I want to honor the brave men and women who blocked high school entrances and turned hoses on protesters, and even the ones who did something as simple and noble as throwing eggs at children, so Virginians could continue to enjoy those lovely signs we took the time and care to hang on separate water fountains.

Did some bad things happen in The South during the Civil Right Movement? Beats me! The schoolbooks I grew up reading never mentioned it, and neither will any schoolbook produced under my administration. But I will add a special chapter on the bands of the 1970s and why Molly Hatchet remains a shining beacon of rockitude. And I will also commission a new cover to these textbooks painted by Frank Frazetta.

My dedication to this site was derailed the past few days by the tail end of spring break. Not mine, of course, but The Baby's. It seems day care gives spring break even to three-year-olds, so I spent a good chunk of the last week driving The Baby back from Cabo. Maybe you think spring break is awesome if you're still young and childless, but it really sucks if you have to work while your kid is drunk-texting you from Senor Frog's.

But spring break is over, I have returned, and I wanted to let everyone know that I will soon commence on my newest, most insanest project: The Parallel Universe Fake Mets. An overwhelming 56 percent of you said this is how I should waste my time this baseball season, and waste it I shall.

For those of you who need an introduction or refresher, the premise is thus: I will play an entire season as the Mets in the PS2 version of MLB10:The Show in franchise mode. My results will be posted series by series, and compared to the result of the actual real-life Mets. I realize that, for comedic purposes, this project would probably work best if my Fake Team does awesome and the Real Team does not. But I will be totally fine if events do not develop in such a fashion.

I may also attempt to do some Fake Team results with Stratomatic Baseball, the spiritual grandfather to fantasy leagues. I reserve the right to do this at any time for any reason, and to discontinue doing so by whim as well.

If you've never played The Show before, here's what you need to understand about it: It's hard. Actually, it's not hard--it's unfair, especially at the more difficult settings (I will be playing my games at the second-highest difficulty). Your AI opponent gets breaks that you don't; it's as if the computer has paid off the umps. The other pitcher gets strike calls for every pitch even remotely close to the plate, while your pitches have to be right down the middle to receive such a favor. The opposing batters never have an appealed check swing overturned, while your check swings are always deemed strikes on appeal. The relative talents of the pitchers or batters involved have little bearing on these results.

Which brings me to another point. The unfairness is accentuated by the game's resistance to the real life abilities and tendencies of major league baseball players. The Show does an excellent job of capturing real swings, real pitching motions, and real stadiums, but it is not quite as accurate when it comes to reflecting the relative weaknesses of certain players.

The computer-controlled batters are very reluctant to swing and miss at any pitch, no matter how much your curve or slider breaks, even if it's a walk-ophobic hitter like Jeff Francoeur. Similarly, every opposing player fields like a Gold Glover, regardless of their real-life counterpart's fielding abilities; Computerized Dan Uggla, for instance, robs hits in the whole all the time even though Real Dan Uggla has never caught anything not hit directly at him. And every single outfielder has a cannon for an arm, even Johnny Damon.

So I've spent the last month playing this game and figuring out how to work around these roadblocks. I've also had to regain my video game playing chops, which I lost during the first three years of parenting. But I don't miss those years I would've spent with a Playstation console, because as Dr. Spock said, parenting is the toughest video game you'll ever love.

I'm combating these unfair elements by taking advantage of unfairness that works in my favor. The Show's default lineups do not reflect the injuries to Jose Reyes or Carlos Beltran, so I will be able to play with both of them on the team all year. (The same rule applies to Kelvim Escobar, but it's still unclear how much of an advantage that will turn out to be.) And thanks to players who were still free agents when the game went to press (do video games go to press?), I was able to pick up Orlando Hudson to split time with Luis Castillo. And because the default lineup did not include Rod Barajas, I opted for a platoon with Omir Santos and Josh Thole.

Long story short, I will post my first installment on Friday, after the conclusion of the first Real Mets series of the year. And for any of you who wanted The 2000 Project, I plan on giving periodic mini-recaps of the 2000 season, though nothing nearly as comprehensive as The 1999 Project.

Without further ado, let the nightmare begin!

BALTIMORE ORIOLES

2009 record: 64-98

Local weather: Crime-filled, critically acclaimed

Namesake: John McGraw's turn of the century squad that cheated and fist-fought its way to dominance. Ah, the good ol' days...

What was McNulty thinking with the whole "homeless biter" thing?: I don't know. It's always bugged me.

Perpetually overused team-related headline: Flippin' the Bird!

Best name on 40-man roster: Cla Meredith, striking a blow for unclear long vowels everywhere

The That Guy's on This Team? Award: Garrett Atkins. One bad season and the Rockies kicked him to the curb. A cruel business, baseball is.

Spring standout: Felix Pie. And when Felix Pie is your spring standout, a long season awaits.

Probable Opening Day starter: Kevin Millwood, also not a good sign.

Biggest question for 2010: Who will take over Camden Yards to a more annoying extent, Yankee fans or Red Sox fans?

Advantage to start the season: I dunno, nobody's died yet? That's a plus.

Semi-serious assessment: There's some young talent on this team, like Nick Markakis and Adam Jones and Matt Wieters, but virtually no pitching. Not to mention they play in possibly the toughest division in baseball. Yet another tough year in Charm City.

CHICAGO WHITE SOX

2009 record: 79-83

Local weather: Broad-shouldered

Namesake: Article of footwear whose color could be changed in an ironic fashion to indicate infamy or shame

Is Hawk Harrelson the biggest tool in all of baseball announcing?: Perhaps, though John Sterling gives him a run for his money.

Perpetually overused team-related headline: Joy of Sox, or Sox Appeal. The thought of A.J. Pierzynski in conjunction with a word that even vaguely sounds like "sex" is vomit-inducing.

Best name on 40-man roster: Stefan Gartrell. Sorry, that's the fakest last name I've heard since Nick Soapdish.

The That Guy's on This Team? Award: Omar Vizquel, who I'm surprised is still on any team at this point. He's become the Jamie Moyer of shortstops, though he throws harder than Jamie.

Spring standout: Mark Kotsay, batting over .400 and once again proving the complete meaninglessness of spring stats.

Probable Opening Day starter: Mark Buehrle, which means Chicago's opener will probably clock in at a cool 90 minutes.

Biggest question for 2010: Will Ozzie Guillen's Twitter account be shut down before it incurs some sort of lawsuit or police action?

Advantage to start the season: Umpires intimidated by roving bags of scumbags in the crowd.

Semi-serious assessment: A full season of Jake Peavey could push them into contention, but I don't know how likely that is. Their lineup is Paul Konerko, Alexei Ramirez, and not much else, and the bullpen is not much to write home about, either. I foresee a thoroughly meh year on the South Side.

ANAHEIM ANGELS

2009 record: 97-65, AL West title, lost Championship Series to Yankees

Local weather: Suburban

Namesake: Theatre investors. Ziegfeld's in the house tonight, everyone!

How much does Angels owner Arte Moreno look like a Walt Disney?: A disturbingly large amount.

Perpetually overused team-related headline: Angels in the Outfield. Lame, but at least it gives work to Christopher Lloyd.

Best name on 40-man roster: Maicer Izturis. I hate maicers to paicers!

The That Guy's on This Team? Award: Hideki Matsui, whose salary should offset the cost of transporting his enormous porn collection from New York.

Spring standout: Catcher Mike Napoli, who's clubbed 5 homers this spring and is in no way connected to The Mob. I don't know why you'd think that. That's racist.

Probable Opening Day starter: Jered Weaver, who looks just as baked as his brother, but is much more employed.

Biggest question for 2010: What tragic death will inspire the Angels this year?

Advantage to start the season: Insane Orange County traffic will prevent anyone from actually attending the games.

Semi-serious assessment: I was amazed to see that the Angels won 97 games last year. I think that result will be impossible to reproduce this year, as Seattle has improved by leaps and bounds. They lost John Lackey and added Joel Pineiro, who I predict will turn back into a pumpkin like most Dave Duncan projects do away from St. Louis. This year's Angels have taken a step backward--not an enormous one, but not small enough to stave off the huge step forward taken by the Mariners.