Crash Bag, Vol. 46: Radioactive Porcine Hemoglobin

Last week, Paul did the Crash Bag, to near-universal acclaim. One commenter remarked that he preferred Paul’s more level-headed tone to my “sour” and “bitter” outlook, and while I appreciate lemons as much as the next guy, that remark got me thinking: I do find myself in a default state of bitter, florid, impotent rage. It’s not that surprising, considering my hobbies:

  1. Watching/thinking about/reading about/writing about the Phillies.
  2. Watching/thinking about/reading about/writing about the Sixers.
  3. Watching/thinking about/reading about other teams I follow: Arsenal, the Flyers, the Eagles, the South Carolina Gamecocks.
  4. Consuming narrative fiction that’s heavy, dark and extremely cynical, like House of Cards and the novels of Richard Ford.
  5. Consuming music that is heavy and wallows in human weakness and suffering.
  6. Contemplating the pitiable futility and smallness of the existence of mankind in general and myself in particular.

Not a lot to get excited about there, particularly when you’re as pessimistic a person as I am anyway.

So I had a conversation with myself that would mirror the famous exchange between Powers Boothe and C. Thomas Howell in Red Dawn and decided that this week’s Crash Bag will be a positive, happy experience. If I can pull it off. We shall see.

@mdubz11: “predict ryan howard’s season.”

Ah, they test my optimism right off the bat. Very well (dons turban and places crystal ball on the table) mmmmmmm….ooogly moogly….

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