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Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.) Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu. This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things. Thursday, May 29, 2003
Chewing on that biscuit again.
I just have to get this off my chest, but the story that Andy at World Wide Rant posted the other day about the name of the new Montgomery AA baseball team just won't leave me alone. "Biscuits" is just simply stupid. In a vacuous, silly way. (No offense intended toward Mr. Vickers of Montgomery who thought up this gem--yes, the idea of fun is necessary to properly enjoy baseball--it being a simple child's game and all--and yes, Alabamians like biscuits, but if those are your only criteria, "Naked Wesson Oil Twister" would be an equally good appellation.) For our British-speaking visitors--the biscuit reference in question is not what we call a cookie and you call a biscuit, but what we call a biscuit and you call a scone--one of these HERE sorts of things. Some self-rising flour, buttermilk, a little shortening, pinch of salt--bake and eat. (Put sugar in them and I'll come to your house and beat you with a tire iron.) They are what the gods ate to sop up their ambrosia on Olympus, but they stink when it comes to turning a double or batting clean up. You want a team name to be dangerous and angry and generally a non-food-source. HOWEVER, just as I told Andy, if you're stupid enough to insist on naming a group of men after a bread product, why not go all out with the Southern theme and call them the Hushpuppies!* They're tough and crusty and even more Southern--in a rough-and-tumble, corn meal vs. wheat flour, scrappy sort of way--than the genteel biscuit. And they ARE made with batter, rather than dough. For a ball team owner, less dough and more batter would seem to be ideal. And you could have Hushpuppy Night (with requisite fish fry), and the mascot could be a cute brown dog (but not a basset, in order to avoid possible trademark trouble), and the batboys could be The Pups, and, and...somehow, young busty women will have to be thrown into the theme, but I'll have to work on that. Anyway, I feel better getting that out of my system. *Once more, to translate for our non-Southernese speaking visitors, a hushpuppy is a hunk of deep fried cornbread batter. They are best eaten blazing hot with a plate full of fresh fried fish, green onions, cole slaw, and sweet tea. Cold ones make fine weapons.
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