Weekend Reading Roundup (I'm'a kill my DVR Edition)
So, it's 12:24 p.m. right now. I didn't wake up till roughly 10. Fed Chuck Dawg. Took her out. Peeled an orange. Put on the TV. And, started watching the 3rd Place Confederation Cup game, Espana vs. South Africa. That the DVR has been invented made all of this possible, since I'd have to had woken up before 9 to watch said match. And I don't wake up pre-9 these Sundays. Great game. Strike that. GREAT game.
South Africa scores first in the 70th-something minute. Looks like they're going to secondarily shame the world's No. 1 squad. Then, Espana scores in the 88th and 89th minutes, knocking ashamedness (not a word, but you know what I mean) into the hearts of South Africans. (The 89th min. goal is among the best I've ever seen.) But then, on the last play of the game, a free kick from about 25 or so, Katlego Mphela drills one into the upper corner, just past el goalkeepero's outstretched fingertips.
And then ... well, then, the 2 hours and 5 minutes of taping time expired so I couldn't see OT, which Spain scored a 3-2 victory in. But still. I was pissed.
I say all this as a pre-emptive strike to explain why I'm not going to hold court on why the Sunday Inqurier seemingly buried a story about a double-murder in a rich-folk building over at a fancy new development project upon the Schmidt's Brewery site. Why bother? I think we all know why a story about two horrible deaths features pro-development comments from a spokesperson for the developer. (Safe neighborhood! We have cameras in the hallways!) Pitiful. Not worth another second of my time. Got a lot of links to provide, rapid-fire style:
-- Wish I'd have put a little Betfair wager down on the U.S. team winning the tourney. Nine-hundred-ninety-nine to one?
-- Liking the Chris Pronger acquisition. May it cost Ms. Cindy Crosby a few more teeth and bring Lord Stanley's Cup home for a third time in my lifetime.
-- George Anastasia inks a compelling obit of journalist Steven Wells, who I didn't know but am told I would have gotten along with famously.
-- Pirates (Party) invade the Swedish parliament!
-- Oh look! A Bloomberg story in the Inky about the court case that I based my June 17 Metro column upon!
-- Oh look! Local gossip-blurb writer writes a gossip blurb about the kind of site that's placed his job atop the soon-too-disappear list!
The perfect news dump
Journalism's greatest hero, Gawker.com, which nightly patrols all along the media watchtower, notes that, given the lack of any interest in non-Jackson- and non-Farrah-related news through the weekend (and possibly all next week), Congress could give itself a 120 percent pay raise, Halliburton could announce it is annexing Siberia, and the Afghan gov could ban chickpeas and no one would notice.
Go for it, Scary Powerful Dudes!
-- Oh look! A news-story writer at the same paper writes a marvelous news story, on the same day as said blurb, giving context to how the news of MJ's death spread primarily via Facebook, and Twitter and text messages and websites. Psst, note to everybody: This is an example of how best to stake a newspaper claim to stories that spiral out-of-control into everybody's brains before context is offered. John Timpane gets a Tip of the Cubs Hat for his good work on A1.
-- But in closing, methinks Rolling Stone took the piece entitled, "Michael Jackson's Troubled Comeback" off its website. Ironic, though, that the issue in which they questioned his ability to pull the London shows off arrived minutes before CNN was telling me that they're trying to figure out whether he was dead.