I write like
David Foster Wallace
David Foster Wallace
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
Wow, really? Actually…I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
KNOW YOUR 1980s DENVER BRONCOS
This week, the third in a series of team-leading runners, #26, Bobby Humphrey.
Looking to replace the retiring Tony Dorsett and the aging Sammy Winder, the Broncos selected Bobby in the 1989 Supplemental Draft. He had two terrific seasons for the Broncos, gaining over 1100 yards both years, making one Pro Bowl, and helping the team reach a Super Bowl. Denver seemed to have found the star runner they had long sought to complement John Elway, and the future looked bright. Of course, Bobby knew how important he was to Coach Reeves and the team, so he sadly decided to leverage his value by holding out in an attempt to get a new contract. Most holdout situations magically resolve around the time that either the brutal training camp schedule ends or the paying schedule of actual games begins. But Bobby sat out for most of the 1991 season, waiting in vain for the team to accept his demands, while the Broncos stuck to their team policy of not negotiating with holdouts. Realizing the Broncos were doing well even without him, Bobby relented and returned for the final few games of the season, but did not play a major role for the team. He was traded to the Miami Dolphins before the following season, where he played only sparingly for a year.
He played in Super Bowl XXIV, in which the Broncos were pummeled by the San Francisco 49ers 55-10. He did his part to earn those 10 points, though, leading the team in both rushing and receiving yards.
So what makes Bobby Humphrey so awesome? Well, tough call. His hair, for one thing. He was also probably the most talented running back the Broncos had during the 1980s (if one considers only the worn-down Broncos version of Tony Dorsett). But talent only goes so far. By contrast, Sammy Winder contributed a great deal more to the team’s successes and should be more fondly remembered. Bobby’s career derailed before he really had a chance to establish himself. Bobby was a good player that could have had a major role on a powerful team for years. Instead, his disastrous decision to hold out before he’d really earned his place pretty much ruined his football career. He never regained his stride or the respect of team management. A 2006 Denver Post article called his decision “the most infamous holdout in Broncos history.” I guess that’s an accomplishment. Bobby seemed regretful of his actions in the article, noting that it was a decision he made in youth and inexperience that didn’t pan out well, and that he should have handled himself better during the negotiations.
Since leaving the NFL, Bobby has spent time as an Arena League coach and currently works for a concrete dealer in his home state of Alabama. His son is a notable football prospect that will attend the University of Arkansas starting this fall.
K and I were talking about a cooking conundrum. We like cooking, and sometimes we produce something glorious, only it required six pans and three cutting boards and two hours. On the other hand, some food is not transcendent but does have the advantage of being easy to obtain. Grilled cheese, for example, has a pretty definite ceiling on how good it can really be, but you also know going in that you’ll spend more time eating it than cooking it. So it’s really not all about how good something is, it’s really all about the ratio between how good it is versus how much work is required. If two meals are equally tasty, the lesser work option would definitely be the way to go.
[Worth elucidating: deliciousness is variable. How much I want cake has a clear dependence on how recently I have eaten cake: if I've eaten it four days in a row, I wouldn't go out of my way to get more. If I haven't had it in three years (but could overcome my crippling depression about not having had cake for three years), I would probably be willing to burn an entire Saturday making it, if that's what was required.]
Like all awesome things, this can be understood better with a graph. Here is such a graph, with a few example plotted points:
You’ll probably want to make anything that ends up in the white area because it has an acceptable Work::Joy, or Function-Over-Obtainable-Deliciousness, or FOOD, ratio. You can see that there is a forbidden zone of food where the work required outweighs the deliciousness obtained. This is the area shaded red.
To understand this graph in more detail, let’s first consider the axes.
Work (vertical) axis: The higher up you get vertically, the more work involved. So, something right at zero would be the easiest possible thing. I’ll define that as “opening a bag of something.” The food is already made and edible, you just have to negotiate the container. (I guess if you want to get technical, ZERO work would not even be as much effort as opening a bag. It would be someone bringing you the bag, opening it for you, then putting the food directly into your mouth. But let’s set our baseline just a little above that.) I suppose there is theoretically no upper limit, as you could always do more work on food. Instead of baking bread with flour from a bag, I could grind the wheat myself. I could further plant and harvest the wheat that I would grind. I could further enroll in a genetic engineering program and create a new strain of wheat to plant, harvest, and grind, etc. But probably a multi-course meal planned and prepared in stages over the course of hours or days is more realistic.
Joy (horizontal) axis: Also knows as The Axis of Deliciousness. Joy increases as you move rightwards. Certainly there are foods that create negative Joy (e.g., mayonnaise) but there’s no reason to consider them here. Something with minimal joy is something eaten merely as sustenance. The classic example is a rice cake–which does have the benefit of zero work, at least. The origin could therefore be called the Rice Cake Point.
Now let’s examine each labeled point.
A. This point represents food you would never bother with. It’s a clear-cut forbidden zone case, requiring a lot of work with little joy, and the worst-possible FOOD. For me, this is probably something like salmon.
B. Same amount of work as A but much more delicious. Very highly delicious, in fact, but still so much work that it’s probably not worth all the trouble. But it’s close to the line, so a debate. Maybe some sort of lasagna.
C. Close to the line, so something you’d have to think about like B, but still falling into the forbidden zone. Despite being a lot less work than B, there’s still low joy, and hence, an unacceptable FOOD. Moderately difficult and moderately tasty, but just not quite worth it. Notice that if it was either just a little less work or a little tastier it would be worthwhile. I think most homemade soups end up in this area for me. I mean, they’re pretty good, but nothing terribly exciting, and usually there’s just a bit too much prep for what I know is coming: you know, soup.
D. Similar to C in that this is something moderately tasty and moderately easy. But, better FOOD than C, and hence, over the line and worth making. Lots of things in this area. Pancakes? Understanding that pancakes are highly variable, of course.
E. Something quite easy, but with minimal joy. Acceptable FOOD but probably only because it is easy. Probably the realm of cereal.
F. Despite the maximization of deliciousness here, this will also take a lot of effort. Food that reside in this area of the graph are special occasions. Hence, I will designate this area the Thanksgiving Zone.
G. The most glorious area of the graph. Maximized deliciousness with minimal work. Best possible FOOD. I deem this the Barbecue Zone.
Please use this graph to help understand your life (as it relates to food) better.
Your thoughts?
1Jul10
Scandinavia
I think I might want to move to Scandinavia.
Pro:
- Good government
- Peaceful
- High Standard of living
- Fjords
- Already in Google Maps
- Could be mistaken for recent Prime Minister
Cons:
- Languages seem baffling
- K probably won’t move anywhere cold
- No idea what the food is like
- American sports contests would air at like 3am
- Not currently employed in Scandinavia
KNOW YOUR 1980s DENVER BRONCOS
This week, the second in a series of team rushing leaders, #33, Tony Dorsett.
As the 1980s Broncos evolved into a perennial contender under the coaching of Dan Reeves, it was clear that they would need a top-tier running back to enable Reeves to not change his lumbering offensive system in any way, despite the presence of John Elway. Towards this end, for the 1988 season the Broncos traded for aging future Hall-of-Famer Tony Dorsett. Tony had spent the first eleven years of his career with the Cowboys, amassing over 12,000 yards rushing, one of the best figures in NFL history. He had finished among the league’s top ten rushers for eight consecutive years from 1977 through 1985. But by 1988, Tony was coming off of a couple of uncharacteristically mediocre seasons, and the Cowboys were giving progressively more of the workload to Herschel Walker. Taking advantage of a fresh start, Tony became Denver’s feature back for the 1988 season, and led the team in rushing, splitting carries with Sammy Winder, who otherwise served as fullback. However, injuries and advancing age encouraged his retirement after just a single year in Denver.
Tony played in Super Bowl XII, following the 1977 season, in which the Broncos were pummeled by the Dallas Cowboys 27-10. Fortunately for Tony, he played for the Cowboys at the time. This pummeling would have prepared Tony for life as a 1980s Denver Bronco, but unfortunately his lone season with the team came in the year sandwiched between the team’s appearances in Super Bowls XXII and XXIV. He also played in Super Bowl XIII, in which the Cowboys lost to the Steelers.
So what makes Tony Dorsett so awesome? Well, the obvious reason is that he is without question one of the best running backs ever to play in the NFL. He remains the league’s 7th all-time leading rusher. He came into the pros as a much-hyped Heisman trophy winner and lived up to his promise. A second reason is that his time with the Broncos makes more for an interesting story than a sports achievement: future Hall of Fame player sent packing by original team, who found a temporary place with the Broncos before retiring. Denver has had few HOF members, and ever fewer who recognize the Broncos as their team. (Uh, Tony does not.) But his year leading the team in rushing remains part of 1980s Denver Bronco lore. But the real reason is that Tony successfully changed the pronunciation of his name in mid-career, a rare achievement. Initially it was read like “DOR-sit”, but at some point he wanted it pronounced “dor-SETT”. And everyone went along with it! (Except his mom, per legend.)
These days Tony does charity work and makes occasional celebrity appearances. Most notably, he hosts the Tony Dorsett Celebrity Golf Classic for McGuire Memorial, a ministry and charitable organization in western Pennsylvania.
Image from SI’s “Legends in the Wrong Uniform” Gallery.
KNOW YOUR 1980s DENVER BRONCOS
This week, #23, Sammy Winder.
Sammy was not the flashiest of the Broncos’ running backs in the 1980s, but his steady work and dependable reputation makes him the quintessential example. He joined the Broncos in 1982 after being drafted in the fifth round, and went on to play his entire career with Denver, retiring after the 1990 season. He led the Broncos in rushing for five straight years, from 1983-1987, and remains the team’s third all-time leader rusher. Sammy’s best season came in 1984, when he rushed for 1153 yards and made his first Pro Bowl. His 14 rushing and receiving touchdowns in 1986 resulted in his other Pro Bowl trip, as well as the team’s first Super Bowl berth of the 1980s. Later in his career, he made a transition out of the starting running back role, splitting carries with other backs and even taking on the role of fullback.
He played in Super Bowl XXI, in which the Broncos were pummeled by the New York Giants 39-20, Super Bowl XXII, in which the Broncos were pummeled by the Washington Native Americans 42-10, and Super Bowl XXIV, in which the Broncos were pummeled by the San Francisco 49ers 55-10.
So what makes Sammy Winder so awesome? Most importantly, Sammy Winder has the best running back name in the history of sport (excepting possibly Craig “Ironhead” Heyward). But beyond that, he was a steadfastly dependable cog in the team machine. He wasn’t the fastest or strongest running back around. Even at his peak he never finished among the league’s top ten rushers. (A 1999 “catching up” profile of him in Sports Illustrated starts: “When Denverites hear the name of Sammy Winder, a former star running back for the Broncos, they show all the excitement of a fern.”) But he did what was asked of him, year in and year out, and that was to be the featured running back in Dan Reeves’ prehistoric offense. You see, Coach Reeves had at his disposal one of the greatest quarterbacks ever, John Elway, and capitalized on this situation by insisting on a run-first offense. As my Dad once put it, the Dan Reeves playbook was, from first down through fourth: run right, run left, pass, punt. Sammy fulfilled his role, whatever it was from year to year, with class.
After retirement (Sammy stepped away at a relatively young 31, opting to leave while he was still healthy rather than chase a few more years, probably with another team), Sammy returned home to Mississippi. He lives there with his family and owns and operates a construction company with his brother.
Image from SI Vault – Cover of volume 61, no. 17, October 8, 1984.
14Jun10
Dumb guy is dumb
Was reading something that reminded me of this irritating dumb jock guy* who lived in the dorm room across from me during the one and only (painful) year of college in which I lived in the dorms. He had an unusual name, and was a semi-notable football player at UM**. Hence, he was easily Google-able. I was curious if his post-football career had gone anywhere. This is sort of the subject of another post because it’s an interesting topic in itself, but the short version is that I knew he’d been granted a cushy sports merchandise marketing job right out of college, the kind of thing that boosters give the barely-graduating footballers who are too dumb to find their own real jobs. Sixty seconds of internet research resolved that he’s not in the cushy marketing job anymore, but is a real estate agent. Oh well, not sure what I hoped to find out anyway. That he’d become some collegiate merchandise baron? Why did I care again? I honestly barely remember the dude.
Anyway, rapidly losing interest in this particular workday tangent, I did one more quick related search for one of his compatriots, whom I will call Mr. Compatriot, another semi-notable UM football player with an unusual name, making him similarly easy to dig up news on. Actually, Mr. Compatriot is in some ways more of curiosity to me since he happened to have been part of my high school graduation class***. But don’t misunderstand–this was not an old pal. He was even more on the dumb jock track than the first guy. I barely knew him but knew enough to genuinely not like him. For one thing, he was a complete louse to a nice girl I knew that had no business hanging out with him. And no kind of friendship evolved during dorm time****. In fact, once I got to college, after getting over the annoyance that this high school lunkhead was actually going to continue to pop up in my life, in however small a role, I was surprised to learn that Mr. Compatriot was there because he was a relatively good football player. As in, one of the few UM players that later signed on with an NFL team. He wasn’t drafted or anything, and never ultimately appeared in an NFL game, but he did merit enough attention to get a small free agent contract. That had been the last I’d heard of him since the last time I might have been curious enough to find some information, maybe five years ago or so. Searching today, I turned up three newspaper articles on Mr. Compatriot. Let’s catch up, shall we?
1. Last I left his story, he was on the extreme fringe of making the NFL. And as such, he was drafted in the XFL supplemental draft. (Recall, the XFL was a one-year experimental football league run by the WWE guy, so it was somewhere between the NFL and wrestling. It failed miserably and hilariously.) Actual XFL players were marginal NFL players. So one might infer that people drafted in such a league’s supplementary draft (i.e., not the main draft, but an extra one used to fill out rosters) are marginal marginal players. That gives you an idea where Mr. Compatriot fit into the pro football world. Not to denigrate this–I mean, good for him. Unless you’re a natural behemoth of a human, you have to work pretty hard to be a pro football player. And he was at least a small part of that competitive landscape. So at this point I was thinking: wow, he actually came pretty close to being an NFL player. A couple of breaks or getting into the right situation, he might have made it.
2. Last summer, someone from my hometown paper wrote a rather flattering article about him. After his pro career petered out, he caught on with a local Montana arena football team (I guess you’d call it semi-pro?), initially as a player, later as a coach and marketer. The article detailed how he had transitioned away from being a player into someone putting in 12-hour days of extracurricular work for the team. And even though he missed playing, working for the team in other capacities made more sense at his age. Wow, I though, this guy I thought of as a dope has reinvented himself as a grownup. I found this to be a pleasant surprise. How about that! Local dumb guy makes good! Until…
3. He was convicted of cocaine trafficking. Uh, wow. Never mind. Seriously–just a few months after the “look how great this local guy is handling his post-football washout years” newspaper profile, he was sentenced to federal prison for cocaine trafficking. I guess we know where he was finding all the energy for those long days at the office. Or maybe the moral is, dumb guys tend to make bad drug traffickers.
*Not all jocks are dumb. But he was.
**”M” being Montana, mind you; “the University of Michigan” is properly referred to as “Michigan”, which I have absolute authority to declare because I attended them both.
***This was an in-state school, mind you. Not really that unusual that someone from my high school was there. But still, something I had in common with him.
****The only particular interaction I even remember with him was one evening when he randomly knocked on my door to ask, “Got some beers, man?” I remember thinking: “Yes. As a broke, underage dorm resident, I logically must have have been able to obtain a wide selection of beer for my miniscule cubic dorm fridge. And if I did, I would certainly give it freely to near-strangers panhandling for it.” Instead I probably said something like, “Uh, no.”
I woke up this morning with the realization that I wasn’t going to get all my Hugo Award reading done. Apparently my brain spent the down time calculating pages left versus time. I mean, I appreciate the effort, considering it usually chews on fantasy baseball stats, but if it was thinking about stock prices or something my life would probably be very different.
Anyway, I got an AussieCon4 membership (and with it, a Hugo vote) at the beginning of May. I had three months to read the six novels up for the award. Those were the priority, and I’d read whatever other categories I could get to. Any category I couldn’t finish entirely I wouldn’t vote on. But instead of starting right then, I finished what I was already reading, then picked up another book which turned out to be a bit of a slog, and by the time I was able to start on any of the nominees, it was June. Now, when I read fast, I probably get through a total of 200 pages a week. And that’s the max end of the range. Even if I definitely read that much (no guarantee), it’s past the point where I can hope to finish all the novels. It’s not really even close. I’d need another month.
It’s completely reasonable for an interested reader to thoroughly digest all the material between the nomination announcement and the voting deadline. I lost a month after the announcement before I decided I’d make the effort to vote. Then another month winding up my other reading. Had I started right away, or even at the beginning of May, or if I’d just happened to have read one of the books beforehand, I’d have easily made it. I don’t think you need to be a professional writer/reader/reviewer/publisher to participate.
I was talking with K about whether it would be ethical to read only half of each book and vote based on that. K’s argument (well-taken) was that this is not enjoying the books, it’s an assignment. My feeling is that I’m just not giving the books a fair vote. Even though the chances of that my opinion would differ if I read only the first halves versus if I read all books in their entirety are exceedingly small, there is a chance. It’s also not in the spirit of the voting, to my thinking. Now, there’s no rule or enforcement of making sure everyone reads all the books. And in fact, I am highly dubious that most voters do. I find it really hard to believe that most voters read all of Anathem last year. It just stands to reason that most read a piece of it (or less) and voted for the author they liked better. It was a name-heavy year with Gaiman, Scalzi, Doctorow, Stephenson, and Stross all up for the award and all well-known in the SF world and at least Gaiman and Doctorow well known outside of it. Anyway, point is, I don’t want to vote unless I’ve read everything start to finish.
Conclusion: I’ll have to skip the novel vote this year. I’ll read them all but won’t finish in time. So, what I CAN do is read everything else from the other categories (novellas, novelettes, short stories, graphic novels, etc.), which will take a lot less time. Then I’ll just vote on those categories and omit a novel vote.
One other thought along these lines. There is an award for long-form dramatic presentation, i.e., movies. I’ve seen two of the nominees already, Moon and Star Trek, of which I liked Moon substantially more, so that’s the leader so far. One of the remaining nominees is Avatar, which I haven’t seen. Facts:
- I have heard over and over that seeing it is an overwhelmingly awesome “experience” (which is to say, the action and effects are mesmerizing).
- I understand the the story itself is so-so, even from people who totally dug the movie.
- I pretty much universally dislike long action-and-effects-oriented movies that skimp on the story.
So, the chances that I will like Avatar more than Moon are pretty much zero. Nevertheless, is it ethical to vote for the category even if I don’t see one of the films which I am 99% certain I wouldn’t vote for anyway? I think this is a slightly different argument from the one above about only reading half of each nominated book. I’ll try to see Avatar but if I don’t, I still think I have a legitimate vote.
Yet another triumphant return of KNOW YOUR 1980s DENVER BRONCOS.
This week, #73, Simon Fletcher.
Simon joined the Broncos in 1985 after being drafted in the second round. He played for the Broncos for the duration of his 11-year NFL career. Simon was an unusually-built linebacker, even for his time, being relatively tall, lanky, and speedy. But his unusual traits gave him his edge: he remains the team’s all-time leader in sacks by a very large margin, with 97.5. (Previous KNOW YOUR 1980s DENVER BRONCOS featured player Karl Mecklenburg is a distant second at 79. Further, 97.5 is good enough for 25th all-time in the league). He additionally shares the NFL record for consecutive games with a sack (10). Outrageously, he was never named to a Pro Bowl despite being among the league’s most disruptive defensive players on a strong team for years. However, he was named a member of the Broncos’ 50th Anniversary Team and was named the Broncos’ NFL Man of the Year in 1995 for his work with at-risk young people in the club’s “Wise Up” program. This coincides with Simon’s general reputation as an underrated, soft-spoken, highly professional player who is fondly remembered by fans.
He played in Super Bowl XXI, in which the Broncos were pummeled by the New York Giants 39-20, Super Bowl XXII, in which the Broncos were pummeled by the Washington Native Americans 42-10, and Super Bowl XXIV, in which the Broncos were pummeled by the San Francisco 49ers 55-10.
So what makes Simon Fletcher so awesome? Aside from his important place in Broncos’ history, Simon is the no-argument choice for defensive player to control when playing as the Broncos in Tecmo Super Bowl. And as my favorite team, I was doing this quite often. His speed was effectively captured in the game, so he was the fastest defensive player Denver had, so a standard choice.
I couldn’t find any recent information on Simon Fletcher, but did read a 1995 Denver Post article written about his impending retirement. At the time he was mostly interested in his three daughters and ownership of a few restaurants in Colorado and seemed well-prepared for life after football.
A philosophical look at Super Mario Brothers, part I: Who has the power?
One cannot doubt Mario’s innate abilities. For a short stocky man with only a modest blue collar plumbing background, he harbors truly astounding athletic talents. First, he has the remarkable ability to jump several times his own height: from a flat standing position, he can jump about three times his height; with just a bit of a running start he can leap much higher and farther; and from a crouch can reach heights still more impressive. Further, he can easily maneuver himself in mid-air to alter his flight path. He can endure numerous physical injuries, including (but not limited to) numerous blows to the head, electrocution, falling onto spikes, animal bites, giant hammer blows, and squashings. He can hold his breath underwater for a few minutes, even while enjoying a vigorous swim (and can harvest meager air bubbles or even metabolize undersea coins to obtain more oxygen). He can carry thousands of star bits or coins the size of his head without any affect on his physical performance (one wonders, in fact, just where he keeps all of them, even with all the pockets a denim jumper affords; but this is another discussion). And most impressive, he can even reincarnate his physical being, instantaneously, upon actual physical death, provided only that he has an extra small green mushroom on hand (and even if he doesn’t, he can still be reincarnated, it just takes a bit longer and he might re-appear at another location). He can do all this while wearing a binding animal suit. He can do all of this without losing his hat.
All that said, and with all due reverence to this tiny, god-like man, the fact of the matter is that a large portion of his success must be due to the laughable incompetence of his principal adversary. Perhaps one of Mario’s greatest assets is the ability to pick his enemies, yes? For every one of Mario’s fantastic talents there is an equally terrible strategic decision made by Bowser.
Bowser boasts an intimidating physical presence and apparent vast wealth. He has castles upon castles, unchallenged leadership over a realm of minions, some terrific architects and engineers on staff, a large happy family, and an obvious flair for design. But rather than enjoy his privileged status, he is instead consumed by an irrational desire to control something he cannot have: the life of Princess Toadstool. Why this obsession burns within him is never clear. It cannot be for money. One could argue that he seeks only more power: the Mushroom Kingdom would be an impressive holding; however, Bowser seems to make few plays for it other than kidnapping its monarch and gloating over the accomplishment, rather than using the opportunity to institute any policy changes. No–I believe his motivation must be purely personal. His only goal seems to be symbolic. The Princess is always treated well. He makes no demands on the denizens of the Mushroom Kingdom. He simply laughs at being able to kidnap her over and over again–it smacks of being a simple diversion for someone endlessly rich and bored.
Here we arrive at the first lamentable strategic decision made by Bowser. Rather than stash the Princess away and consider the feat a job well done, he cannot help but boast of his work. Even the act of kidnapping the Princess shows Bowser’s interest in being noticed. The most recent kidnappings have been earth-quaking demonstrations of largess calling grand attentions on his misdeeds. No quiet smuggling her away in the night with a threatening ransom note for Bowser. He wants everyone in the Mushroom Kingdom to know what he’s done and much evidence suggests that Bowser even encourages Mario to attempt a rescue.
This falls into line with the “for entertainment” theory. Should Mario shrug and say, “I’ve warned her repeatedly to beef up her personal security. I’ve lost too many lives pursuing her for reward no better than a slice of cake and a kiss on the cheek. This is someone else’s problem”, Bowser would undoubtedly find this infuriatingly out-of-bounds. Given that Bowser has it entirely within his power to assassinate the Princess or leverage her kidnapping to get something else, we must assume that he does all of this only to spur Mario into action, so the game can once again commence. For his part, Mario must take on this task yet again or risk real retribution from Bowser. He can’t simply leave her be, he must rescue her. Even though with his powers and Bowser’s strategic failings, he knows for certain he will succeed, yet he is still forced to go through with the task, like just another of life’s endless rote errands. But the point, from Bowser’s perspective, is that Mario has to do this. In this way, Bowser does indeed wield true power over a god.
Later:
*A detailed account of Bowser’s strategic failings
*Theories on Mario’s abilities
