New at Hardwood Paroxysm: The Thin Line of Thunder Disgust
So remember the first article I ever wrote at here? This one.
It perturbed some of you fine, upstanding Knickerbloggeristas a skosh.
I mention it because for one, I’m about to contradict that first article (again) and if that lil’ ditty brought forth bile, this one might make y’all might throw heavy objects at me, which is fine when part of a Klingon mating ritual but problematic in a non-Trek multiverse. Take a look :
Even if I wasn’t appalled by the coldhearted dagger that was inserted directly into the collective backside of the poor, old Seattleites, and though Messrs. Durant, Westbrook, Harden, Ibaka et al. are wondrously talented, eminently root-able players who may appear on the surface to be far more worthy of one’s love than LeBron and his mercenary, clutch-less charges, in this series, I’m pulling like a fiend for the Heatles, if only to avoid (not to put too fine a point on it) finding myself on the the same side as pure, concentrated evil.
Why? Because I know that to cheer for Oklahoma City is to cheer for the pernicious bastards who are fracking the country.
Hey, did you know that in addition to banging the keys here and occasionally for the NY Times, Robert is a playwright, an actor and a wand'ring mendicant/gadfly? He also once wrestled a bear...and lost.