Us athletes have had it up to here. We work hard to practice and play while our schools make tons of money. Some of us do really good in classes and graduate and get jobs with personal training and sports medicine. And we deserve to be paid and join a unison for collectible bargaining. Not so much everybody, but mens basket ball and mens foot ball for sure. How can people think we don’t? Its just incomprehenstible.
Harvard Crimson Basketball
A compelling case, if me do say so myself! You can start at the federal minimum wage of $2.13 per hour, plus tips. But I must say that I do have concerns about college athlete unison membership—of, in effect, allowing sports Teamsters to turn On the Waterfront into
On the Fifty-Yard Line. For one thing, this country has enough fiscal problems on its hands without giving unfunded pensions to eighteen-year-olds. For another thing, think of the disruption a lockout could cause! As one of our greatest presidents, Calvin Coolidge, once said, “There is no right to strike against my fantasy football, anywhere, anytime.”
It’s time for Republicans to come back to Texas. The GOP is busy picking the location for its 2016 convention—but there should be no debate. Dallas’s bid has the other cities licked. I mean, look at the competition:
Cleveland. Cincinnati. Columbus. We’re seriously gonna go to Ohio? The whole state is like one big Detroit.
Las Vegas. What if David Vitter, by then Louisiana’s governor, comes to town? Still seem like a good idea?
Denver. Yeah, the residents of ganjaville are truly our kind of folk.
Phoenix. Mainstream reporters will spend the whole time writing about that Arizona law and homosexual cakes.
Kansas City. I know I had a joke about Kansas around here somewhere. Hang on…
It’s clear that there’s just one choice: Dallas. And I’m tellin’ ya, the pick could come in handy if the nomination ends up being won by a certain well-regarded Texan—a stony-faced, leather-legged, snake-slaying reform machine, a maniac conservative with eyes as dark as Houston crude and lush hair like a recently shampooed badger.
Texas is a fine idea: It’s Republican territory, and we haven’t held a convention there since 1992. But why Dallas? It’s not like downtown kale peddlers are our type either. I propose a new national bylaw: No GOP convention may take place within 250 miles of a Whole Foods. Let’s take the message to the country, to the real people, in, say, Hoot and Holler Crossing. We’ll load up on beer and steaks in nearby Vernon, find field to camp in, throw up a stage, and rough it. How many people attended the last convention, 50,000? This’ll be like our Woodstock, except with less VD and more tricornes. —GWP
The secretary is out of control. A few months ago Mr. Kerry made headlines when, in telling MSNBC that the Ukrainian situation does not signal a new cold war, he invoked a movie from the ’80s: “This is not Rocky IV, believe me.” Now he’s enamored with his own cleverness. A few days later, during a visit to Kampala, he characterized our trade policy with an analogy to RoboCop. Luckily, it wasn’t reported: The only press present were Ugandan, and none of them knew what the hell he meant. Then last week he told a group of senators to “calm down—it’s not like we’re in Poltergeist.” (How is that possibly relevant to any situation not involving an Indian burial ground?)He keeps pushing me to work a reference to Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure into one of his upcoming speeches. What am I supposed to do here?
Dept. of State Dept. of Comm.
Let him run with it. The American people love comedy, and unseriousness is the fashion of the era. Just think: Yesterday’s newscaster was Eric Sevareid; today’s is Jon Stewart. Yesterday’s vice president was Nixon; today’s is Biden. But try at least to broaden Mr. Kerry’s tastes beyond cheesy action flicks. Introduce him to the classic 1931 Frankenstein. The title character’s creation is, I believe, one of the dear secretary’s direct ancestors. —GWP
I write to you with a perplexing question about this InterWeb, a subject which I find intensely vexatious. My staff has compiled in a memorandum several news reports indicating the administration plans to “give up control” of the InterWeb. Somehow a group called ICANN is involved. I cannot fathom the consequences. Anyone will be able to send whatever electronic files they want? Should I be gravely concerned?
Absolutely. Just imagine: Without controls, the wires will soon be overrun with hate, vitriol, and rumor; inexplicable videos of cats in compromising positions; selfies from depressed fortysomething mothers trying to look fetching; terrible puns from wisecrackers avoiding their jobs; enough dirty pictures to exhaust the appetites of the Red Army; trivia about the exact dimensions of celebrities’ backsides; ad nauseam, ad infinitum. Please, act now and save us from this terrible future!