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One month and a day after an earthquake and tsunami devastated northeastern Japan, and even as the nuclear threat level at the Fukushima Daiichi plant was raised to the highest level, baseball season got underway in the beleaguered country Tuesday.
While one team, the Tohoku Rakuten Golden Eagles, who are based in hard-hit Sendai, won’t return to their home stadium until the end of this month, and teams shift games to daytime and try to drum up enough diesel generators for later in the season to minimize the use of electricity, Nippon Professional Baseball is carrying on for the fans and the country. The AFP reports:
“At a time of national crisis, the role that sports can play is far from small,” the mass-circulation newspaper Yomiuri Shimbun said in an editorial, recalling the terror attacks in the United States of September 11, 2001.
US major leagues resumed play six days after the tragedy, with New York Mets Continue reading In Spite Of Everything, Baseball Season Begins In Japan
Filed under: Baseball, Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Plant, Fukushima Nuclear Threat Level Raised to 7, Hope Springs Eternal, Japan, Japan Baseball, Japan Earthquake, Japan Earthquake and Tsunami, Japanese Baseball, Major League Baseball, New Beginnings, Nippon Professional Baseball, Opening Day, Opening Day 2011 Japan, Opening Day in Japan, Pastimes, Sendai, Spring, The Show Must Go On, WWII
We’ve never really wronged you, dude. We listened to, and didn’t shit all over, your most-expensive-album-of-all-time Chinese Democracy, which in the words of our friend Colin, “came and went like a whisper” (and truth be told, we don’t think was worth the $$$). We have spent countless hours discussing your meteoric rise in the 1980s: that magnificent freshman opus–our longtime lover, Appetite for Destruction–you helped unleash upon the world, Mike Clink’s capture of lightning in a fucking bottle, the album that forever changed the lives of everyone we know that owned a Walkman in 1987.
We tend to gloss over the fact that you’re an angry, violent man, whose porcelain skin (so luminescent and alluring in your youth) just looks so pasty and creepy on an aging rager in his forties. We forgive the fact that you can’t look like that (see your yummy former self, right) forever. We’re psyched for you that you’re no longer dressing like an umpire, teaching Stephanie Seymour lessons with your fists, or dragging hundreds of people into the studio for two decades while you try to revitalize your rockstar dick.
In short, we haven’t started any beef witchu.
So why are you getting all up in our business? Why do I feel your crazy braids all tangled up in DISGRASIAN’S grill? And by that I mean, why are you attacking the presence of GNR songs–that have brought us so much joy and thrills of achievement–in our favorite game of life, Guitar Hero? DO YOU REALIZE that as we slay Slash’s solos on “Welcome to the Jungle,” we feel our blood racing as if we’re 20-year old boys laying out our musical guts in front of an arena full of followers? DO YOU REALIZE that when we split up the parts on “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” we feel like we are actually playing in the real, magnificent, ’87-era GNR with our best friend at our side? DO YOU REALIZE that these experiences may be the happiest ones we have ever felt or will feel?
Stop being a pathetic asshole and leave a little dignity in your sad, tired band’s legacy. And don’t start fronting with us, or we will begin going to fucking town on you.
It’s amazing what pops up when you type “Survivor Dancing With the Stars” into the Youtube search engine.
I was all set to write about reigning Filipina champ Cheryl Burke’s hideous choreography, the vocal screechings and botched plastic surgeries of the criminally-aged Survivor bandmembers, and those fug-rageous satin boxer-skirts with the giant slit up the middle that the girl dancers wore in the “Eye of the Tiger” number, until I found this:
The guy who posted this said, “Hard to believe that these are robots.” Which is about the funniest thing you can say about this video really, even if you are a sad sack Asian-porn addict who likes to ogle semi-clad, dead-in-the-eyes chicks with so-so bods while popping your own butt-zitties in your Mom’s basement to pass the time.