(Web) Logs

Well, hello to the world of Web Logging. I emplore you to forgive me while I wrap my head around this concept, but hopefully you'll find something to laugh about while you do.

I understand that people call these web logs 'blogs', a term I'm firmly rejecting. To me, it seems to be just a catchy, arbitrary name. Why couldn't we call them Net Logs, or 'Nogs'? 'Tlogs' even? It 'clogs' up bandwith, so that name isn't out of the question either. Is it possible then to look at web-logging like timber-logging? Wow, 'Tlogs' really is a keeper. Well, a name is a name is a name, but we can safely say that this act of journaling wants a 'log' at its core.

When we log something, we register and record it. This is done to preserve things of value, but from what I hear of other web logs, there are many disposable commentaries online. I'm not a MySpacer, but surely sites exist which are about as appealing as the term 'blog' itself. Still, the act of logging is one that requires your presence -- it's not just content, we're capturing a space like a Polaroid photograph (certainly, this one is out of focus). To log, then, is to force a something into existence. Let's realize too that as the entries pile up, they do stack very neatly like logpiles. If you wanted to argue for dogpiles though...

All this means is that we have a multitude of opinions, multiplied by their desire to log, and consequently splintered by many or few who read them. It's that last part which, I think, draws us back into this world; these imagined communities are surprisingly mobile, decentered, provide tremendous potential for interaction, and yet I know I've stayed away from them like I stay away from Heidegger. (Great irony in that "Being is the most universal concept", right? Riiiiiight.)

I'm sure everyone who's reading this piece (Dave, Ru Paul, thank you) have already come to these conclusions. I'm new to this world, so bear with me. But going forward, I think it's useful to be quite aware of our presence in this medium. I'm also going to recommend reading "Multitude" by Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri, because I believe it should give some useful perspective on the positive application of this dispersed place of Being. That said, I haven't actually read it yet so it may be a waste of time; as a Leftist book, fans of the Harper government would definitely argue it belongs on the 'dogpile'.
-JW

Happy Halloween

Dear THHOHW Readers:

While you may or may not exist, the staff here at This Hour extend our most sincere Halloween wishes. For your viewing pleasures we have posted a picture of Newfoundland Premier Danny Williams, dated nearly three weeks ago, with the freshly decapitated head of his Liberal opposition clenched neatly in his teeth. Conservatism forever!

For the record...

Caught off guard by Conservative mini-budget announced on Monday, Liberal leader Stephane Dion has steered his party, and the country, away from another election.

Good Morning, Monday

Was is Das?


While the mix-up lasted only a couple of hours, the Dalai Lama was noticeably distressed at being arrested by the cold Canadian prime minister and his red army upon entering Canada. When reached for comment, Harper mumbled something incomprehensible about border protection and tucked his red, white and blue ties behind his jacket's lapel.

Empire Burlesque

When covering the playoffs, TV networks often search for intelligent, entertaining and mostly neutral colour commentators to provide the audience with a deep, full broadcast. As Joe Buck's dimwitted partner revealed last night, the goal is not always realized.

However, when he interrupted Buck's gab on the eighth inning of what would prove to be the final game of the 2007 World Series to discuss a team other than the two present, my heart leapt a little. The announcement; the evil empire is crumbling (actual quote). Let's forget that a disservice was paid to both teams on the field, especially Colorado, who had been all but forgotten about innings before with even the most mundane Red Sox players getting more attention, not to mention the Coors' Field humidor. Let's forget that despite the fact that the sport's second most popular team steamrolled through another championship they will be but afterthoughts in the coming weeks. The important news is - its over.

The mighty Yankees are in turmoil. Steinbrenner is aging, Torre is gone, many of their reliable talent is up for free agency (Pettite, Posada, Rivera, etc), many of their overpaid shrubs remain under contract (Giambi, Damon, Farnsworth, etc) - but this was already known. The final nail in the biggest coffin in the Bronx, large enough to hold Yankee Stadium itself, is that Alex Rodriguez is opting out of his benchmark 250 million dollar contract, effectively leaving New York.

I could use this space to harp on Scott Boras. He turns his players into mercenaries, preferring money over championships. Just ask Barry Zito - a man who will not win with his team regardless of how well he pitches. Unfortunately, I do not have the space to do so. What most interests me is the collective sigh across baseball, signifying the end of Yankee Rule.

Despite that the Yankees have the best young talent crop they've had in years and are poised to haul in Joe Girardi, a fine manager in his own right, the rest of baseball is no longer terrified of a Yankee squad, brutish in form, who could mow down nearly any squad in the history of baseball. Forget their playoff woes - the Yankees' regular season teams crushed playoff hopes by thumping teams regularly year long. Had you played the Yankees too often in the regular season, and as a Jays fan I can generally attest to this, your squad was left with an uncharacteristically high number of losses in comparison to other teams. (No wonder NL teams hate interleague play). Even if you managed to beat the Yankees your team was left exhausted and your bullpen depleted.

Ultimately the end of the Yankee era marks a shift in my life. They were the dominant team of my youth. Here's to George Steinbrenner and Scott Boras, however, whose awful fiscal practices and short sightedness has killed a great empire, ruined careers, and made the American League East seem rather pleasant for anyone but the Bronx Bombers

DB

A new generation

As I currently watch the final few innings of the 2007 World Series I cannot help but reminisce about the 2004 that lighted the Red Sox fever that inspired millions of bandwagon jumpers to pledge lifelong allegiance to one of the most lovable franchises in professional sports. The 2004 squad was quirky and fun, every bit the anti Yankees that the world of professional baseball was hoping for at the the end of the steroid era. How do the 2007 Sox compare to Idiot, Pedro and Millar? Let's Cowboy Up and break it down.

Simply put, I think the 2007 Sox are a better squad overall for three reasons; starting pitching, bullpen, and supporting staff.

Josh Beckett is a better pitcher in 2007 than Martinez was in 2004. Schilling, albeit slower and older, has learned to rely on crafty outs rather than fireballs. Daisuke is the weak point of a fantastic starting playoff four, and that's a wonderful position to be in. Lester, who is going to emerge post cancer as a solid pitcher, is going to be a big star in Boston for years to come. Lets not forget that the genius in Boston's front office have also managed to hold on to Clay Buckholz for next year, who may have the best stuff outside of Beckett all pitchers considered. The nod goes to the 2007 rotation - who misses Derek Lowe?

The bullpen is more reliable. Not only is Papelbon more entertaining than Keith Folke, he's a better pitcher. The 2007 squad still has Timlin and Okajima is a better pitcher than anything the 2004 squad could have hoped for.

Supporting staff? Pedroia, Ellsbury and Lowell versus Bellhorn, Dave Roberts and Bill Mueller - there's no question who I'd rather have backing up Manny and Ortiz if I was a manager.

While they are a better squad, the 2004 team will forever be remembered as the more lovable. Whys that? Johnny Damon looked like my favorite deity, Manny and Pedro shook heads together, Ortiz emerged as an underpaid hero, and ultimately the beloved eight and a half decade losers finally buried the ghost of George Herman Ruth.

Congratulations Red Sox. Unfortunately, despite the ALCS heroics and the home grown rookie show stealers, the party just ain't gonna be as sweet tonight.

When reached for comment, Chester admitted a measured amount of sorrow upon learning about the death of Steve Irwin. Three solid years in a secluded gym for naught.