Friday, October 17, 2003

HARD TO BE HUMAN AGAIN. But why, Uncle Roy, are you not pleased at the victory of the Yankees?

Well, children, there was once a wonderful comedian named Joe E. Brown, who made the truest statement ever about the Bronx Bombers: "Rooting for the Yankees is like rooting for U.S. Steel."

But you don't know who Joe E. Brown was, and you don't know what U.S. Steel was. Brown had the greatest exit line in the greatest screen comedy ever. And U.S. Steel was a powerful monopoly; we might compare it to Microsoft today, but you probably love Microsoft, because it produces the operating system that powers your Xbox, notwithstanding that it is inferior in every way to the Apple system that Microsoft has managed to squeeze into near-obsolescence by the unfair advantage of its wealthy patronage.

So there is no way to explain my contempt for the Yankees to you. You love and worship power, and by such as yourselves -- from the pinstriped and suspendered Yuppie assholes bellowing on their highly-polished barstools midtown to the locals who imagine their own powerlessness momentarily reversed by the bats of Jeter and Giambi -- those who, out of fear or ignorance, would never allow themselves to stick up for anyone who has ever been down -- no appeal to what was once called soul could possibly be heard.

But to those of us who love what is best in this city -- the old Brooklyn Dodgers fans, the Mets fans, the champions of the meek and downtrodden, those who remember the dear, dirty New York before Giulianification and still try to make sense and art in the sterile canyons and joyless, smokeless bars of its pathetic remnants -- the Yankees will always be the well-fed champions of privilege, pusillanimity, pussification, and everything that anyone with a shred of soul -- who is still, in a word, human -- is duty-bound to despise.

Go Marlins.
Well I've been punched and beaten
Though it never shows
I'm going up to Sheffield
I don't know when I'm coming home...
Searching for existence with my red, red wine
It's hard to be,
Hard to be human again

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