Personal Note: I almost passed on doing NFL games this week. One feels such a sense of loss and comes to realize the utter insignificance of these exercises in light of yesterday’s tragedy. That said, I’m posting an abbreviated version of selections. Peace.
NOLAN DALLA: 2012 POSTED NFL SEASON RECORD
80 WINS – 74 LOSSES – 4 PUSHES —– (+ 28.85 units / 1 unit = $100)
STARTING BANKROLL: $10,000.
CURRENT BANKROLL: $12,850.
BEST BETS OF THE WEEK: 10-4-0
Read MoreWhy “Happy Xmas (War is Over)” by John Lennon and Yoko Ono is the Greatest Christmas Song Written and Recorded in the Modern Era
John Lennon once said he always wanted to write a popular Christmas song.
Hard to believe, but as accomplished and prolific as The Beatles were for nearly a decade, they never recorded a holiday tune.
So, less than a year after the legendary rock icons dissolved as a group, John and wife Yoko Ono fled London for a new start in New York City. That’s where they would remain for the duration of Lennon’s life. In fact, the controversial duo never returned to England again, not even to visit.
During their earliest months in Manhattan, Lennon wrote a number of songs that would later become one his few commercial flops as an artist, ultimately released as the “Sometime in New York City” album. This creative period largely fueled by intense political activism and protest included an unusual Christmas song that was inexplicably omitted from the 1972 album. And yet, it would ultimately become a powerful anthem for world peace as well as a timeless melody of hope for all humanity.
Like many great works of creative alchemy, the song wasn’t particularly well-received when released, either by critics or the public. The single wasn’t a hit when initially released in 1971 in the United States. A year later, the single was released in the U.K., where it enjoyed modest success, charting as high as fourth. But by the mid-1970’s the song was mostly forgotten.
The song did later appear on a relatively obscure John Lennon composition album called “Shaved Fish.” But following a stellar track record of commercial and critical successes — both with The Beatles and Plastic Ono Band — no one was quite sure what to make of the odd tune. It certainly wasn’t a mainstream Christmas song in the traditional sense. But it wasn’t quite a political song either, not in the mold of other Lennon classics like “Give Peace a Chance” or “Imagine.” Older people who fancied traditional Christmas music weren’t about to purchase new single by one of counterculture’s most outspoken leaders. And younger fans weren’t all too enthusiastic at the notion of listening to what amounted to a simple Christmas song. The title too was controversial, opting to omit “Christ” from Christ-mas.
Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but can I get cash instead?
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Wouldn’t it suck to win the lottery right now?
Imagine pocketing the lump sum of $250 million. Your dream of a big house, fancy cars, and a trip around the world has just come true. You’ll never have to work another day in your life. Then, on the way to the bank, a giant fireball suddenly appears up in the sky.
Kaboom!
There’s a potential Twilight Zone episode in there somewhere.
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In case you missed it, the world is going to end on December 21, 2012. At least, that’s what some ancient Mayan calender predicts, which marks the final day of a 5,125-year cycle. Never mind these savages spent most of their lives running through jungles and commonly sacrificed virgins to the gods. Today, some people actually believe these tribesmen possessed unique insights into our future. Despite their civilization utterly vanishing without warning more than a thousand years ago, they have supposedly alerted us to the very day when life on earth will end. Now, that’s impressive. Hell, I can’t even figure out what time Monday Night Football comes on each week.
This is a lose-lose proposition for a shitload of people. First, we’re all pretty much screwed if the prophesy comes true. We can all agree on that. I don’t see a lot of upside in the entire world’s population being sucked into a deadly black hole — although I sure as hell will be applauding when it’s Kim Kardashian, Howard Lederer, and Donald Trump’s turn to enter the giant celestial vacuum cleaner. That’s almost worth hoping it will happen.
But if the prophesy is false, some people out there will have lots of explaining to do. There’s going to be enough egg on the faces of soothsayers to make the world’s largest omelette, assuming we all miraculously wake up on December 22nd, and there’s still an earth under out feet.
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We are bankrupt.
Actually, that’s not true. We are 16 trillion dollars beyond being bankrupt. Trillion — with a “T.” Think about that for a moment. Let it sink it.
If you’re not mad as hell yet, then shut the page and go read something else. Today’s column isn’t for you.
The so-called “fiscal cliff” debate happening in Washington right now underscores the reality that the two-party system has utterly failed us on every level. Such a perverted system shows no capacity to either compromise, nor govern. It’s a disgrace to the concept of democracy. The two parties are fucking America in the ass and we’re all Ned Beatty.
Those of us out of the political mainstream, far removed from the dog and pony show, have been screaming for years that things would eventually come to this. We foresaw the two major power brokers would eventually reach a stare down and come to what amounts to a political stalemate — where virtually nothing gets accomplished.
The debate goes something like this. Liberals want to spend more money and expand the role of government. Conservatives want to make budget cuts and decrease government’s role, opting to shift power to the private sector.
But that’s a gross over-simplification of what’s really happening. In fact, it’s far more complicated. There are plenty of government programs liberals would love to slash (you’ll see my list in a moment). Moreover, many government programs receive their strongest support from conservatives.
The bottom line is — we’re in a crisis. We have no choice. Either make drastic cuts. Or, increase revenues (taxation). Or both.
Where the two parties fail is in not telling us the truth. It’s time to level with the American people and simply announce that we all must all make some sacrifices. Everyone. We are all in this together. I know, my socialism is showing again. But these times demand shared sacrifices. The sooner this nation is confronted with some kind of honest “fireside chat” moment where our leaders finally level with us, the sooner we can tend to the peoples’ business and get back on financial track.
Here’s my “wish list” of what should be cut (or added) to balance the federal budget:
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Yesterday, I almost had my balls chewed off by a pit bull named “Chief.”
It’s true.
I was attacked by three pit bulls this past weekend. Here’s the story of how a leisurely run through the mountains of northern San Diego County turned into a brief moment of terror.
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Ever had one of those “HOLY SHIT! WHAT DO I DO NOW?” moments?
I just had one.
Make that three. As in three pit bulls.
It all happened Saturday morning. A casual three-mile run concluded with an unexpected “bonus sprint” towards the end, when I was confronted by three gnarling, foaming-at-the-mouth, canine beasts.
First, the back story. I’m currently staying at the Harrah’s Rincon Resort and Casino, which is located in the mountains just north of San Diego. This is Indian land situated about halfway between Temecula and Escondido. Unless you drive 20 miles due east off the I-15, you’d never know there’s this vast barren area with almost no modern development, except for a few casinos and local Indians who all seem to drive $60,000 cars and live in shacks.
The roads here pretty much consist of single-lane stretches of pavement winding through mountains along blind curves with no guard rails. Everyone seems to drive 80 miles an hour along these roads. I guess there’s no state highway patrol here given this is a “sovereign nation,” so it’s almost like vehicular anarchy.
Having run along these roads a few times as part of my daily workout, I’ve nearly been hit by traffic, oblivious to the fat white guy wallowing along the yellow stripe who’s stupid enough to jog a route where no path exists. If running in Las Vegas is dangerous at times, and it certainly can be, then doing the same thing here on an Indian reservation is inviting a death wish.
So, on Saturday morning I went out in search of a detour. A new path where I could run over the next week which was challenging, but safe. I thought I’d found it, at least until the final stage of my run, which is where the story picks up.
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NOLAN DALLA: 2012 POSTED NFL SEASON RECORD
76 WINS – 65 LOSSES – 4 PUSHES —– (+ 48.65 units / 1 unit = $100)
STARTING BANKROLL: $10,000.
CURRENT BANKROLL: $14,865.
BEST BETS OF THE WEEK: 10-3-0
I’m coming off a brutal week where I lost -11.2 units (-18.2 units were lost on Sunday). First quarter wagers have been deadly last three weeks, with inept offenses wiping out substantial profits. I’ll be much more selective about these trap wagers in the closing weeks of the regular season. Reducing some exposure on these first-quarter plays and going a bit heavier on sides and totals.
Shorter write ups today. Apologies to readers for not doing more writing on these games. But the plays have been handicapped and look very strong. It’s 4 am on Saturday night, and I have to get some rest. So the narrative will be kept to a minimum. Here it goes….
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Christmas means war.
Let me explain why.
We’ve lived in “The Lakes” section of West Las Vegas for about ten years, now. When we first moved onto this street, it was a quiet neighborhood made up mostly of retired people. Now, younger families with kids have flooded into the area. Our street also has many different nationalities — including Canadians, Palestinians, Chinese, Russians, Mexicans, Egyptians, Persians, and Romanians. We even have a few Mormons. They’re from some weird place called Utah.
During those earlier years, a few of our neighbors put up decorations over the holidays. Usually, the lights and decorations were modest. A few strands of lights here and there. A lit up Christmas tree. Maybe a Santa Claus or a manger scene.
Moreover, decorating usually began during the first week in December. Thanksgiving was regarded as separate holiday. Imagine that. No one dared to put up lights at least until November had ended.
But something happened.
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Portraying historical figures on film is a daunting challenge. Such is particularly the case for beloved American icons with well-established identities.
The filmmaker’s challenge rests not so much in recreating history. Typically, plenty of credible narratives exist which provide multiple accounts of the icon’s role in history.
What’s toughest is striking the right balance between realism and art, melding history with entertainment, and doing what would seem impossible — satisfying academics, film critics, and the fickle ticket-buying, movie-going public.
This is where Lincoln, the new film by director Stephen Spielberg ultimately soars on at least one account, but fails in others.
Based in part on a book by noted presidential historian Doris Kearns Goodwin, the film concentrates on the final five months of Abraham Lincoln’s life. Surprisingly, this is not a war movie as much as an intriguing political drama. The film’s primary focus is the struggle to pass the 13th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. That’s the amendment which essentially outlaws slavery in America (Note: To be precise, the famed Emancipation Proclamation was a war directive. It took an actual amendment to the Constitution to obfuscate state laws on slavery).
The gauntlet is laid down in the U.S. House of Representatives, where a two-thirds voting majority is needed to change America forever. Remarkably, the movement to pass the 13th Amendment is exactly 20 votes short. Virtually all of Lincoln’s advisers, most notably Secretary of State William Seward (played to perfection by the consistently-excellent David Strathairn), pleads with the 16th President to abandon the fight and focus instead on ending the Civil War as quickly as possible.
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Look at this lunacy!
I just finished my dinner at the Chinese Restaurant called “Fortunes,” located at Harrah’s Rincon, near San Diego. As is customary with all Chinese meals, the curtain call of the dining experience is opening the traditional fortune cookie.
Well, look at mine.
How in the hell do I open up my fortune cookie and receive a message like this?
BOATS AND WATER ARE IN YOUR FUTURE. HAVE FUN!
Huh?
Boats and water? In my future? Have fun?
I live in Las Vegas in the middle of the desert, for Crissakes! Water? Boats? Where? And how can they be in my future? It’s the middle of freaking December. And for those of you who might ask — no, I am not taking a cruise nor have I ever been on a cruise ship. I don’t like boats.
Sometimes I think fortune cookies are just plain full of bullshit.
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