Existentially Nested

There aren’t enough #brandyspecials in the world to help me get over that farce that was Ireland v South Africa yesterday. 

World Rugby, with their infinite wisdom, choose to assign the greenest of refs to the first battle of the greens in 5 years. Sure, one goal could have made all the difference but that’s not the issue here. The issue, I believe, is setting up a revenge game for the next World Cup, drawing in viewers and cashing in on an emerging rivalry they hope will stretch for decades. 

Instead of running to twitter to complain, I listened to the people around me who watched the game. Even those who think I’m a radical ref hating malcontent agreed though. 

Now, we’re left with a single question... Is it worth the effort? Is it really still a sport, or are we now just seeing a modern version of WWE made for rugby fans to howl, spit, and drool over? 

Rugby is dead to me. 

I grew up and realized that The Undertaker didn’t really sleep in a coffin. The same principle applies here, you dick stains who work at world rugby won’t fool me again. 

Facebook and Instagram aren't much better. Twitter now the only platform that allows you to block advertizers.

In all fairness, I'm too old for SM anyway. Should probably stick to the 24h news cycle from now on.

Ah, and podcasts. What did I do before podcasts? Read... That's right. I read all kinds of stuff. Modern science, philisophy, heroic fantasy, comedy fiction. Could always go back to that.

God forbid I should actually physically engage with real people. My community is filled with gnashing personalities who show obnoxious self-satisfaction. To hell I say!

Ah, but the doggos. They get it. Bark at unannounced visitors and threaten strangers with horrible flashes of teeth predicting swift and unrelenting violence. They get it.

Sports Journos: This will be the flyhalf matchup of the season.

10 mins into the game...

"If you're going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don't even start. This could mean gaining girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery--isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you'll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you're going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It's the only good fight there is."

"Bless you, of course, you’re keeping me from work,

But the thing of it is, I need to be kept.

There’s work enough to do—there’s always that;

But behind’s behind. The worst that you can do

Is set me back a little more behind.

I sha’n’t catch up in this world, anyway.

I’d rather you’d not go unless you must."