Lunar Eclipse: Live Blog

It's Lunar Eclipse time boys and girls.

A lunar eclipse occurs when the moon passes behind the earth so that the earth blocks the sun's rays from striking the moon. This can occur only when the Sun, Earth, and Moon are aligned exactly, or very closely so, with the Earth in the middle.

Initially I had trouble understanding this (obviously I'm joking), until I drew a diagram where the earth is my junk, and the sun and the moon are my two balls, where if everything is in proper order, a lunar eclipse will occur in my pants.

Because of this, there is always a full moon the night of a lunar eclipse. The type and length of an eclipse depend upon the Moon's location relative to its orbital nodes. Orbital nodes could not be metaphorically translated into the aforementioned analogy, though I'm told from a friend of a friend that I may have contracted orbital nodes once in university.

Let's take this opportunity to use the world wide web to its fullest and have ourselves a little live chat.

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1:48AM - Fuck it's bright out. Between the snow and the light emitted from the moon (yes, I'm aware the moon doesn't produce light), you'd think we're enjoying a midnight sun in southwest Ontario. Yippee.

1:54AM - Well, this is going rather swimmingly - there is nobody participating in this live chat, however, despite the lack of reaction, nay support, I continue to stare at the moon.

1:59AM - Just made popcorn. Still no participants, eclipse continues to cover the left-side of the moon, approximately a third of the way.

2:04AM - Wowzers. Briefly stopped by the loo to make water and pause for a quick, yet necessary exfoliation, only to find upon returning to the kitchen window that the moon is now half-covered. Live chat members total 1. Yours Truly.

2:20AM - Holy fuck the eclipse is really moving now - which is the complete inverse of this live blogging experiment.

2:21AM - On another subject, Mavs beat the Heat, halting their win streak at 12. Take that Lebron. Somewhere, Jamario Moon is finally smiling, as astronomers worldwide mistakenly check his twitter feed.

2:29AM - Now but a sliver of the vibrant moon remains visible. Much like my confidence, with each passing signal, the light begins to vanish like the bulb at the end of the dock in F. Scott's marquee work, slipping away through the sands of time.

2:35AM - Goodnight Moon. See you tomorrow night, hopefully as I serenade your beauty as I stumble home drunkenly with confidence momentarily regained and temporally intact.

Thanks for participating in this maiden voyage of the badnewsblog live blogging.

(italics used to imply sarcasm.)

Where Amazing Happens Sometimes: Picture Of The Year

First off, yes I am aware that the title "Where Amazing Happens Sometimes" requires a comma after the Happens. In order to modify this I would need two things I don't have a surplus of to go-back an alter the tags on all of my NBA bits; patience and time. So for the time being, it is what it is.

See all those bald, portly Jewish-looking dudes sitting on their asses underneath the baskets at NBA games? No, not Jon Lovitz sitting courtside, the other ones. The same guys that get flattened by Shaq and kicked by Dennis Rodman are there to take photos of the action taking place before them. Often the shots are mundane and indicative of the repetitive nature of the game and what transpires in the paint; white dudes getting dunked on, players leaping en mass for a rebound and homo-erotic scrums for a loose ball.

Sometimes said photographers capture brilliance. In but a week's span, two shots were captured that require noting.

The first I stumbled upon while reading Bethlehem Shoals in-depth coverage of the Miami Heat in "Heat Strokes" which my friends at Deadspin.com publish following Heat games. Shoals also writes for FreeDarko.com, which is one of my favorite sites on the interweb. They also recently published an amazing book on the subject of basketball which is a must-have for fans of the hardwood.

No, not that hardwood, if you fancy that well I can't help you, well actually I probably could, but I have my eyes on something else. Shotta!

That right there is a statement picture. Captured accidentally, it displays the "Big Three" in various stages (Yup, that's Chris Bosh marinating under his own basket - way to run the break buddy.) At the time, I thought this might be the photo of the year.

Until last night, following the Celtics win over the Knicks at MSG, whilst trolling online I found this gem. Despite the fact it's not during game action as is the above photo, find me another shot that features four teammates each in a different stage of celebration. Not sure what Nate Robinson is up to, but you have to love Garnett's Vaudeville-like pose no?

Funny how similar Paul Pierce's pose is to Mr. Wade's in the previous photo. Trust me, Pierce is very aware of this fact and enjoys being 20-4 while the rest of the league talks about the Heat.


How aware is my boy P Squared aka The Truth about the goings on around the league, following a second consecutive defeat of the Heat, he tweeted this:

"It's been a pleasure to bring my talents to south beach now on to Memphis"

Obviously trivializing LeBron's choice of words in "The Decision" to which, in reply, Heat power forward called Udonis Haslem said this:

"Paul who? Man, ain't nobody paying them dudes no attention, man. You know what studio gangster is? Look up that, look up the definition of studio gangster. I'm here to play basketball. First of all, I don't tweet. So I wouldn't know what he tweeted if you guys didn't tell me."

Damn, that makes me chuckle every time. Haslem calling Pierce a studio gangster - ouch.

Just another reason this season, like I've said numerous times before, is the best since Michael left the Bulls for the final time. The Bulls I said, fuck that 27.6 points a game with the Wizards with Tyronne Lue at the point, I don't count that rubbish.

Things Done Changed: Santa, I Actually Want Something This Year

Word has it Christmas is around the corner?

How could you not notice? Even those living under the proverbial rock are inundated with Mariah Carey's "All I Want For Christmas..." ad nauseum.

As I get older I care less and less for what I receive as gifts, and more for the time spent with family and the creative nature of my gift-giving tendencies.

In other words, I don't hold my bated breath in anticipation of an amazing gift.

Sure, last year I was spoiled by both my parents and my girlfriend, but it was a bit of an abbhoration. This Christmas, I'm single for the first time since Seattle had an NBA team and frankly, I don't deserve much.

Leave it to a UK Grime rapper Tinchy Stryder to change all of that with a 3-minute video.

Santa, I've been an above average young man and I want, nay I demand an iPad.

Peyton Hillis: Barrier Breaker

Despite losing Sunday to the Buffalo Bills, Peyton Hillis became the first white running back to rush for a 1000 yards since New England's Craig James did so in 1985.

Amongst NFL running backs, 1000 yards rushing for a season has become a benchmark for success. Mr. Hillis deserves praise for his efforts this season with the Cleveland Browns not because he is white, but because he overcame anonymity whilst playing with the Denver Broncos, to find his niche in Cleveland.

As much as I'd like to think race does not matter, let's face it - white running backs are less common on a professional stage than are black hockey players in the NHL. There are certain positions on a football team, often called the 'skilled positions', that are dominated by African-American athletes. Where speed and agility is required, such as in the case of running backs and wide receivers, most often these positions are held by black players.

This is not a forum on the ethnic and physiological reasons for why certain races excel at certain sports, while others seem to struggle in comparison, however the fact remains that the numbers don't lie.

Odds are, parents of children playing amateur football are aware of the percentages and motivate their kids to play other positions, or even other sports such as lacrosse.

The dissenting opinions of naysayers and those that told him it couldn't be done are no different than those that criticized black quarterbacks 25 years ago for lacking the cerebral qualities and leadership skills required to lead a team. The likes of Donovan McNabb and Michael Vick would be quick to point out that things change, and stereotypes do nothing but motivate the hungry.

Kudos to Peyton Hillis for overcoming such stereotypes, succeeding on the field and inspiring kids across America, not only white ones, but children of all ethnicities, that labels mean nothing and molds are made to be broken.

Letterz From Da Editor 3

Before I get started with today's installment, yesterday a reader approached me on the streets and asked me what the core concept was behind my blog. Following a brief moment of internal reflection, I answered with a long, drawn-out 'uhhhhhhh', followed by a 'wellllllll funny you should ask that.'

Funny because as much as I try to have some central ideas behind the site, I do it for myself. I write it for myself and do not use it as an attempted means of garnering respect from my fellow writers or as a portfolio of sorts for my legitimate career ventures. The copious usage of F-bombs and the continuous haphazard posting of blogs related to YouTube-embedded rap videos should imply as much.

I am an 80's baby, and I grew-up with a bizarre melange of rap, punk and Sub Pop-era indie rock, skateboards and mountain bikes, the kids of Beverly Hills 90210 and Saved By The Bell, Bill Nye and Mr. Dress-Up. My current standing was molded by the likes of Nintendo, Marv Albert and Mike Fratello, Tom Cheek and Jerry Howarth, winning Blue Jays teams and Maple Leafs squads floating mainly in the purgatory of mediocrity. Michael Jordan, and later Thierry Henry were my Christ-like figures, with John Steinbeck, Mordecai Richler, James Joyce, Mark Twain and Nick Hornby as my literary disciples.

The point being, my interests now, as tempered by my interests as a youth, are as varied as ever.

This is a blog about the things I love. One day there may be a compelling well-written piece about Toronto's streetcars, the next day a fluff piece linking rappers by way of guest appearances on each other's work. There may be a week of NBA discussions, followed by a book recommendation or anecdotes from my travels in Europe.

One core idea I do try to implement and discuss is that the times are changing - for the worst. I believe I am from the last generation before the birth of the hypochondriac, excuse-making, allergic to everything and generally pussy-gentrified generation that I often critique here at badnewsblog. Albeit, my generation is the one that is destroying the world, but it is the next one that be the fuel for my fire.

I hope everybody who either follows this blog or stumbles upon it enjoys it for what it's worth.

Having said that (a term I despise, yet still use too often), I plan on making an effort to veer-away from the sophmoric and novice post that any blogger could bang-out in a few minutes, and instead emphasize on learning through writing, and of course, many post-comma 'ands'.

Occasionally, we might even learn a thing or two together. Thanks for reading.

Dipset Fridays: 6 Degrees Of Juelz Santana

Greetings. Today, we're going to play six degress of Juelz Santana. From NYC to 'Bama, ATL to Houston, to the council estates in London and a voice that gives me goosebumps. Enjoy!



Yella is soooo greasy.



Dungeon Family + White Trash = Heaven on Wax



I love me some mature rap.



Houston wardies + Dizzee = Fuckin' Magic. R.I.P. Pimp C



Yup... That's right - We just did Juelz to Flo and The Machine with a few stops in between. That was fun no?

FIFA: Crooked-Ass Bastards Part Deux

Today, amidst considerable dissent from media worldwide, FIFA President and Swiss National Sword Swallowing Champion 1968-2010 announced the 4 nations vying for the 2026 World Cup.

The envelope please.

And the nominees are:

1) Djibouti/Ethiopia/Eritrea joint venture (matches will be played using the skulls of Sudanes Rebels as adidas official game ball and the posts will be antique AK's from the Afghan War with modified bayonettes used as a means of anchoring into the arrid East African sand.)

2) Yugoslavia (when informed of changes in the Balkan region over the last 20 years, Blatter insisted they fight for the right to house the 12 necessary venues. Chaos enused in Zagreb, Belgrade and all towns inbetween, as sales of firearms and Asamoah Gyan jerseys rose steadily.)

3) Alderan/Tatooine joint venture (currently searching for a third host, preferably from the Coruscant, Tatooine or Kor-uj sectors.)

4) Qatar (Oh wait - fuck me. Thought it was all a dream.)