what fears may come

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Or don't.

elite eight: Whitman sings the blues

For inspiration on this first day of the Elite Eight, we turn not the spirits of the game, who are notoriously fickle, but rather to the spirit of Walt Whitman, the mangy prophet.

Song of a Quarterfinal

I loaf and lounge in the TV's gaze, observing a game of college hoops.
I, now thirty years old in close-to-perfect health begin,
hoping to cease not till commercial break.

I recline and let the apparitions of a thousand layups, fadeaways, alleys-oop,
born of the merging of desire and dream,
play and re-play on this electric canvas.

The jumpers and the dribblers, the passers and dunkers: the same.
The short, the tall, the lunky, the lanky: the same.
The Lawsons, the Thabeets, the Aldriches, the Hansbroughs: the same.

Glass, steel, cord, hardwood, paint,
glaze of sweat and the supplication of a halfcourt heave,
out of this tumult of noise and smell and motion,
four visions arise.

Tigers, shelled by a shot-block, innards drooping from the husk.
Panthers locked in death-dance with wild-cats, brother against brother, clawing and scraping until the elders collapse in defeat.
Cardinals swooping, spiraling, unstoppable.
Tar Heels choking in the dust of a hundred thousand covered wagons.

I recline, lodged between the seeing and the knowing,
waiting for the whistle, this call in the midst of the crowd:
My own voice, orotund sweeping and final.

sweet 16: an NCAA bracket poem in sixteen lines

Old Father Gumption and his mistress, Lady Luck, have together whittled the NCAA bracket down to sixteen. Eight games arrive Thursday and Friday. Only poetry can provide a prediction of the outcome. Poetry with YouTube links, that is.


2009 Sweet 16 Bracket Prediction Poem

Forget the past. '08 is just a memory.
Mizzou falls to the cats from Memphis, Tennessee.

Sorry, Purdue. You beat Huskies from Washington,
But Calhoun earns top dollar, so your time is done.

Xavier, in a down year, brought back super yields,
Until the crash. Meet Tyrell Biggs and Levance Fields.

The Pope declares: hatred of Duke is not a sin.
Duke gets the calls, no doubt. But 'Nova gets the win.

Gonzaga brings their A-game against UNC;
The spirits forecast Heytvelt over Psycho-T.

The Orangemen hope to dominate Blake Griffin's squad,
However, sadly, nothing rhymes with Devendorf.

The Arizona Wildcats--only 12th seed left--
Will take the game from Louisville. A major theft.

Lastly: this year's Kansas takes on Izzo's crew.
'08 is just a memory. Winner: MSU.

things to come

Huckabee will bow out after Super Tuesday. It'll be sad--I'm going to miss his baffling foreign policy views, his bizarre supporters, and his folksy lite wisdom / recipes.

The Giants will win the Super Bowl. Up against the soulless, life-crushing machine, they may not have the odds behind 'em, but they've got heart. Rocky IV comes to Arizona this Sunday.

In a surprise move, John Edwards will endorse John McCain. Think about it.

No Country for Old Men will win the Best Picture Oscar, but not Best Director. Or vice versa. I think it deserves both, but I didn't get a ballot.

Update: The Giants won, thanks to the most incredible postseason catch since the Immaculate Reception. All hail Tyree!

Seahawks primed for another tense playoff run

All around the region, antacids are flying off the shelves faster than a Hasselbeck strike to Bobby Engram for 13 yards and a first down. Tomorrow Seattle plays Washington in the first round of the NFL playoffs. Even though we're favored to win, playing in the loudest home stadium in football against a team that scraped into the playoffs by beating a nonchalant Dallas squad, led by a veteran QB and some absolutely killer defensive backs, coached by Seattle's all-time wins leader, we're still going to be watching with our knees at our elbows and our double venti mochas set to decaf. We're jittery enough as it is.

Why the angst? Shaun Alexander and the Cast Apparently Made of Spirit-Sapping and Not To Mention Extremely Heavy Uranium. Mike Holmgren's inexplicable clock non-management. Blown lead after blown lead, even in victories. The debacle in Pittsburgh. And, worst of all, we couldn't convert fourth-and-inches if Billy Graham was praying over the ball.

Bill Simmons sums it up:

By the way, this feels like the 27th straight year that the poor Seattle fans have talked themselves into the whole, "I know we're not that good, but if X happens, and Y happens, and Z happens, we might be able to sneak into the Super Bowl!" It's becoming a January tradition right up there with Vince Carter getting hurt and Fox kicking off a new season of "American Idol."

Even so, even so, even so...

Seahawks 24, Washington 21. Pass me the Rolaids. And don't bet on sports.

Update, 5:10 p.m., 1/5 I was too conservative, but the game was closer than the final score revealed. 35-14 the final. Go Hawks!

Also, here are my other first round predictions:

Steelers over Jaguars
I like Roethlisberger in the playoffs.

San Diego over Tennessee
Same reasons as the TRP's.

Tampa Bay over New York
Defense wins it. Eli Manning will throw at least three picks.

in your future

Ten things that will change your future.

10 things that will happen in 2008.

In short: you are doomed. But you already knew that.

Apple Cup prediction

Today marks one hundred years of Cascade Curtain rivalry. At 4:00, the Washington State University Cougars meet the University of Washington Huskies, at Husky Stadium, promising a healthy slice of nostalgia baked to a crisp.

Last Wednesday, a current Cougar student teacher asked me who I felt would win it. "UW," I said. "Locker's healthy, and WSU got stomped by Oregon State at home. Doesn't bode well for Cougs."

A glare cold as a Palouse blizzard. "Wrong answer, Anderson."

"Hey, I'm neutral," I said. (I somehow resisted saying "I don't have a dog in this fight.")

The glare iced over. "Even worse."

The Apple Cup: a century of bringing us together even as it tears us apart.

Huskies 31, Cougars 17.

Don't bet on sports.

Update: Don't bet on sports. Cougars 42, Huskies 35 in a wild one.

more upsets in an ulcerating season

Not Ohio State, which silenced Michigan. Not LSU, which wore down Mississippi. Not Kansas, which trounced Iowa State.

This week's collapses belong to Oklahoma and Oregon. (The latter, to be fair, came at the loss of a potential Heisman-winning QB, Dennis Dixon.) Added: I missed the fact that Oklahoma's loss came via a downed quarterback as well. Ouch.


Time to predict the BCS champion: Kansas. Why not.

Don't bet on sports.

NBA finals prediction, 2007

Cavs in 6.

Don't need a reason.

Update: Would anyone like to give my bro-in-law, my bro, and me $45,000 so we can score sweet seats in Cleveland?

obligatory NCAA bracket blogging VIII

So much for upsets: all the remaining teams are 1, 2, and 3 seeds. In fact, only one 3 seed, Oregon, made it. (Wisconsin choked, busting my bracket.)

On to the predictions, then. Rhyming couplets!

Memphis v. Ohio State
Sacrificing a chestnut tree to Woden,
The Tigers conquer a bedraggled Oden.
Update: wrong! (Shoulda trusted my bracket.)



UCLA v. Kansas
Fortune smiles not on the pancake state;
Afflalo and the boys leave 'em back in the eight.
Update: right!


Oregon v. Florida
For the national champs there'll be no repeat,
Going down to the Ducks in an epic defeat.
Update: wrong!



Georgetown v. UNC
Huzzah for the Hoyas, who this psychic feels
Have the chutzpah required to take down the Heels.
Update: Right, and in a big way. I have the Hoyas as my national champs. They sure look like it right now.

Seahawks run out of miracles

Despite key injuries, despite being an 8.5 underdog, the Seahawks came out looking like a pretty tough team against Da Bears. Rex Grossman shed just enough of his badness to make a couple killer passes against Seattle's depleted secondary (the only reason we're not a Super Bowl team this year), and a couple late drives stalled with one painful yard to go for the Hawks. We really could have surprised everyone, but just couldn't quite pull it off.

Looking ahead: Saints will compete in the Super Bowl against the Patriots. Patriots will win it all. Again.

Update: Yes, I called it before the Patriots did it. Tom Brady just knows how to win. And Marty Schottenheimer just knows how to lose.

God to Pat Robertson: Didn't I tell you to can it?

Guess who's at it again: that paragon of prognostication, Pat Robertson. This time he's predicting a "mass killing" on U.S. soil late in 2007.

Robertson said God told him during a recent prayer retreat that major cities and possibly millions of people will be affected by the attack, which should take place sometime after September.

Watch out! He was right--sort of--last time. I mean, we didn't have a tsunami out here in the Pacific Northwest, but we did have an unusually bad storm that still causes headaches. The quote that really gets me:

"I have a relatively good track record," he said. "Sometimes I miss."

Uh, Pat... you know how God treats false prophets?

my last drop of punditry before the deluge: Election 2006 prediction

We're going to be flooded later today, or early tomorrow, if the weather holds. Perhaps God is telling us something--"elect Democrats, and I'll rescind my promise"--or perhaps not.

Better than any astrologer or prophet, though, is the well-armed pundit. Not armed with polls, which are fickle, but with facts.

In fact, there is but one fact that gives a clear indication of the upcoming Democratic victory.

Fact: This weekend, despite appearing in only 800-odd theaters, Borat was the number one movie in America.

Don't forget to mail your ballot today. That is all.

how's the weather up there?

Oliver Curry is wrong.

Evolutionary theorist Oliver Curry of the London School of Economics expects a genetic upper class and a dim-witted underclass to emerge.

The human race would peak in the year 3000, he said - before a decline due to dependence on technology.

People would become choosier about their sexual partners, causing humanity to divide into sub-species, he added.

The descendants of the genetic upper class would be tall, slim, healthy, attractive, intelligent, and creative and a far cry from the "underclass" humans who would have evolved into dim-witted, ugly, squat goblin-like creatures.

But in the nearer future, humans will evolve in 1,000 years into giants between 6ft and 7ft tall, he predicts, while life-spans will have extended to 120 years, Dr Curry claims.

Hasn't Curry seen The Terminator Trilogy? The machines take over, nearly wipe us out, and only the resourceful, ugly grunts survive.

last-ditch legal effort to revive gay marriage

Says KOMO news:

Gay and lesbian couples on Tuesday asked the state Supreme Court to reconsider its endorsement of Washington's gay marriage ban, saying the court's flawed reasoning ignored legal protections against sex discrimination.

Such requests to the high court rarely are granted, but attorneys in the case said the stakes were too high to let the opportunity pass.

"We felt that we had to use every option available to us to show the justices the logic behind our arguments and how their decision, as it is currently reasoned, falls short," said Nancy Sapiro of the Northwest Women's Law Center, a plaintiffs' attorney.

I'd put it at 90% that the Court says no. It's time for gay marriage proponents to rework their strategy and head to the legislative arena.

equal rights within reach reached

Don't uncork the champagne until the pen swoops over paper, but you might want to put a bottle on ice. Only one question, though: if the landmark gay rights bill passes the Senate and is signed, as promised, by Governor Gregoire, what are the chances its opposition will resort to challenging the statute in court?

Update: While I was judging round after round of Lincoln-Douglas debate at PLU's TOH Karl tournament, it passed, and will go on for Chris Gregoire's signature. Eli Sanders has more questions:

If the supreme court rules in favor of same-sex unions, and lawmakers in Olympia are asked by the court to create a legal framework for state recognition of gay relationships, will the same legislators who took so long to green-light the civil rights bill be able to quickly say yes to civil marriage for gays and lesbians? Will Republicans flog the gay rights issue in the lead-up to November, when the entire house and much of the senate will stand for reelection? Will Governor Christine Gregoire, who backed the civil rights bill and says she is eager to sign it into law on Tuesday, be similarly eager to back gay marriage? And will Tim Eyman succeed in his "Let the Voters Decide" effort to repeal the new gay civil rights law via a statewide vote?

As Sanders points out, the last option isn't likely (I don't think Eyman has ever made a public statement on the issue), since 60% of Washington voters back gay rights--a complete turnaround since 1997, back when Initiative 677 failed.

I think back to early 1997, when I was a college freshman writing a Comp 101 paper on why "gay Christian" was an absolute contradiction, homosexuality being unique among sins at tarnishing a soul beyond God's recognition. Yet nine years and many life experiences later, and largely due to time spent and meals shared with an openly lesbian mentor teacher, every trace of anti-gay bigotry has been cleansed from my system. For many Washingtonians, I'd suspect the transformation worked the same way. It's easy to be prejudiced against an unknown Other. But when you know someone gay... it no longer makes sense.

This victory belongs to all those brave men and women who came out of the closet, enduring their family's ostracism, their friends' awkward silences, their coworkers' teasing. To those who worked tirelessly in the legislature to build friendships and erode the distrust built up by ignorance. To Cal Anderson, who never saw the fruits of his labors, and to Ed Murray, who did.

I'll see you in my dreams

Normally I would reserve great skepticism for a woman claiming to have foreseen her watery motorcycle dive off a Highway 520 offramp.

No problem, because Reid says she saw the whole thing two weeks ago in a dream.

"The whole thing was that I'd already see it happen to me, and I don't know how to explain it, because I saw myself go over twice. I'd already lived it once. It's like I know I'm going to make it because there is a reason and a purpose," said Reid.

I'd be skeptical because, among other reasons, I have trouble remembering dreams from two weeks ago--and I've been keeping a dream journal.

But maybe there's something to the whole dream prophecy deal. So, I shall cast aside my skepticism and offer prognostication instead.

Here are the woes, both mine and yours, that you can expect in coming weeks, based on eighteen dreams recorded over thirty days. (As Dave Barry would say, I'm not making this up.)

1. I will attend a spaghetti dinner that will magically transform into a pancake breakfast, after which I will spectate a playoff game in Elma, in frigid weather. Later, I'll head to a warehouse, where a group of students filming a class project will be stalked by a knife-wielding maniac. In the ensuing class discussion, I will be confused for a student.

2. My uncle John will die in a bizarre accident, breaking his back while windsurfing off the coast near Westport. Remarkably, this will not upset my aunt Sherry. His coffin will be measured with a saxophone.

3. My wife will become pregnant, and I'll tell her she's cute.

4. Instead of reaching the summit of Mount Rainier by climbing, I'll tunnel up through winding caverns. Then I'll pick beans on a gigantic farm that transmogrifies into a school building, and get lost looking for a particular row of beans / desks. A nearby man's face will melt and bubble like a burning marshmallow. Somehow, mysteriously, this will be my fault.

5. My car will crash into a lake, and I will be mostly preoccupied by recovering sunglasses from the dashboard.

6. I will go to Disneyland with my older sister Cathy and brother-in-law Jon. After dining in a Thai restaurant where the owner feasts on Chinese food while ordering his employees to make more sourdough bread, we will finally reach the Magic Kingdom, only to be turned away when Jon's credit card is rejected. A trip to Ross (dress for less!) with my parents will devolve into an argument over whether I appear to be shoplifting.

7. I will give various speeches at school assemblies on sundry topics, and will sing songs of some kind.

8. While playing drums with fiber-optic brushes, one will break and slice through my fingernail, revealing a tongue-like appendage underneath. The nail will heal itself. Later, I will grow hair as long as my wife's, and will debate whether I should cut it or grow out my beard to match. (I'll look quite good with long hair.)

9. Behind my high school, I will discover a fellow English teacher raising nettles in the school's raspberry patch "to keep birds away."

10. Driving to White Sulphur Springs, Montana, in a pickup truck, I will be saddened to learn that the town is a shell of itself. Distressed by the ruination, I'll crash into a vehicle parked behind me, and cry when explaining the situation to the police. Later, a rainy-day trip to a mountain in northwest Washington will be interrupted by technical support crews who offer computer assistance to a room crowded with alpenfolks.

11. In a postapocalyptic future, I'll set up a rebel camp in an abandoned building or parking lot or something.

12. Back in that same rainy northern Washington locale, my wife and I will be busted for breaking and entering when we try to take a photo of a photo of Mount Rainier, because the real Rainier is obscured by clouds and we just want a photo. The police will not be sympathetic.

13. I will witness a couple breaking up as I walk through a suburban landscape. Then, playing touch football on a hospital lawn, I'll get in trouble for accidentally clocking a doctor with an errant pass.

14. When a great flood destroys most of Olympia, I'll help people rescue their pets and possessions by climbing ladders made of firewood.

15. James Bond will finally meet his match as I track him down and shoot him up pretty badly. He will need face transplant surgery, and will be forced to talk by making gurgly noises with his throat, which only his nurse will understand.

16. While Goodwill hunting for classic books and clothes, a little girl will pester me, after which I'll be dragged out into the desert and thrown off a cliff, ending up in a museum in Montana. My eternal fate: stuck in the cafeteria, drooling into a sink.

17. I will become a deejay at a local radio station, although a computer will mix most of the tracks. Running for president, or being president, will be stressful to the point that I'll have to take a shower. The drain will be blocked by my pocket watch.

18. I'll skip class after storming out of a "knowledge bowl" round where the judge makes a bad decision which costs our team victory. Why I will be back in high school, I'm not entirely sure.

Don't blame me, blame fate. The future is set.

Democrats Cave

Offer paltry opposition, confirming Miers after only four days


You read it here first.

I spy with my inner eye

Though it's not quite as fabulous as Jason Kuznicki's brilliant dissection of St. Malachy's pontifical prognostications, this timely article by Dana Stevens is another great take on prophetic silliness.

wherein I claim the mantle of Nostradamus

And now for a trivial diversion.

My "olympia northwest" NCAA bracket is in the top 5% on ESPN, number 141169 out of millions. Seriously. I can't believe it.

My secret? I take only five minutes, no more, to construct it, proving the essential wisdom of intuition. (Thank you, Malcolm Gladwell.)

I picked UNC, Michigan State (take that, Dick!), Kentucky, Louisville, Arizona, and Illinois, and, like everyone else, missed Wisconsin and West Virginia.

Looking into my hazy plastic orb, I foresee Illinois, Louisville, UNC, and Kentucky.

Kentucky beats Illinois in a close championship. Dick Vitale, are you paying attention?

Update: As of 9:08 p.m. Pacific, I have moved up to the 98th percentile, ranked #43776, thanks to teeth-gnashing comebacks by Illinois and Louisville--the best basketball action this year. Until tomorrow.