Oh snap: Mike Downey pwns the Sun-Times

May 8th, 2008 | Posted by PostmanE

The Sun-Times is good at lots of things, but most of all, they’re good at bandwagoneerism. It helps to have Jay Mariotti on their roster, who windsocks with popular (and unpopular) opinion almost every single day. That helps.

But beyond Jay — when the slightest hint of buzz surrounds a topic, the Sun-Times is fantastic at absolutely beating it into the ground. Witness the contrived populist outrage surrounding Wrigley’s potential name change, something most reasonable people seem to be OK with, but something the Sun-Times seems intent on fighting with poetry.

This week’s White Sox blow-up doll blow up is no different. Most people have moved on, firm in the knowledge that baseball people are just as stupid and insensitive as one would assume. Nothing more, nothing less. But the Sun-Times needs to keep pickups high! They need this! Don’t you take this away from them!

The final word instead goes to Mike Downey, who absolutely excoriated, or pwned (whichever you prefer) the Sun-Times for its own women issues:

• Naked Dancers: Peep Show, $20 for 1/2 Hour”

• X-Treme Body Massages with ‘Hotties’ ”

• Hot, Wild, Fun—Blonde or Brunette?”

— Ads that ran in Wednesday’s sports section of the Chicago Sun-Times. Awwww, isn’t it sweet of the Sun-Times to go to bat against Ozzie Guillen’s bad language and the sexism of the White Sox? Gloria Steinem must be the new editor over there. I mean, isn’t it great to see the Sun-Times scolding the White Sox this way for offending women? You know, while the paper runs sex-club ads and sexy photos of non-athletes in the sports section? […] Bravo to the Bright One for making sure no one out there is offended by sex or dirty talk.

Downey’s logic eventually tapers off — he criticizes the Sun-Times for publishing the blow-up doll story as if the story itself is another example of crude content — but he’s absolutely, 100 percent right. More importantly, he’s criticizing the crosstown newspaper, and open newspaper feuds in Chicago are freaking awesome. They’re sort of like blog feuds, except even lamer. And that’s really fucking lame.

The Chicago Sun-Times is fighting the power … with limericks

April 17th, 2008 | Posted by PostmanE

Getting all worked up about changing Wrigley Field’s ancient name is pretty lame. Know what’s lamer? Stoking the anti-change populist fires in a sad, desperate attempt at drawing attention to your newspaper. Know what’s even lamer than that? Doing so with limericks. Yes: freaking limericks.

The Sun-Times seems to be running one of these “Let Sam Zell know what you think!” community stories every third day now, and today’s installment is yet another proud edition to the pantheon. Keep in mind, as you read on in horror, that these were chosen as the best from a “flood” of entries. Taking these apart piece by piece is kinda mean, so instead I’ll just let the artists’ work stand on its own. Order your cappuccino, adjust your beret, and politely close your MacBook Pro away — it’s the first annual WATP Poetry Slam!

The state wants to buy Wrigley Field,
for the rent money that it will yield.
With a corporate name
It won’t be the same,
And the wound will never be healed.

Change Wrigley’s name? We deplore it,
We hate all the bad reasons for it.
If a company should,
We’ll boycott their goods
And the corporate name, we’ll ignore it.

For every sad generation
That has left Wrigley Field in frustration,
Between the foul poles
We have given our souls
And resent any new appellation.

To tradition true Cubs fans will cleave, and
embrace history and hope in ”Believe”-land
But if we listen to Zell
we might as well sell
the name “Chicago” to Cleveland. 

I spend a decent amount of time thinking about people of the future will look back on our society. (This thought precludes the possibility that we destroy the Earth in like 50 years, but whatever.) And I get to thinking, and I genuinely believe this. Humans in 2100 will look back at our era as I look at the Renaissance — as a time of incredible positive discovery, innovation, and conscientiousness, a time just as formative as any in the history of the human race. That makes me feel good, you know? That after I’m gone, the things my peers are doing will live on forever as the foundations for a more interconnected, intelligent future.

And then I read things like this, and it brings me back. Because no matter what people in the future think, when I die, I’ll know the truth: we are, as ever, remarkably stupid.

Welcome to the Jay Mariotti mailbox

March 31st, 2008 | Posted by PostmanE

The Tribune and Sun-Times like to have their fair share of spats, most of which revolve around one of two things: Whether or not the Sun-Times is in fact dying (if the quality of its broadsheet is any indication, the answer is a wholehearted “yes”), and whether or not Jay Mariotti is indeed the spawn of the devil.

What’s funniest about the latter is that Mariotti is, in fact, quite bad at his job, though that’s only if you value insight and analysis and an interesting read. If you value controversy and papers sold — as a struggling paper like the Sun-Times might — then Mariotti is one of the best in the country at bringing it nearly every single day. It’s dishonest and silly, but it moves papers. Also, the Trib shouldn’t throw stones: They give Mike Downey ink twice a week, and even the Trib’s good columnists aren’t above the occasional dopey pander.

Still, this is hilarious: The Tribune has opened up the Jay Mariotti mailbox, a not-at-all-subtle jab at the Sun-Times‘ recent decision to outlaw reader feedback on Mariotti’s columns. (That way, no one can challenge Jay’s authoritah!) Readers can put whatever comments they’d rather have put under Mariotti’s byline on the Tribune’s site, and can thus have their feelings made known to the world. Little do they know, they’re only making Jay more famous. Whoops!

The Tribune’s site looks to be flooded with comments, which is no surprise. The real surprise is that an intern agreed to this. Poor bastard.

Weirdly stilted sportswriting not just for Woody Paige anymore

March 28th, 2008 | Posted by PostmanE

Nope: It’s fresh in the pages of the Sun-Times, as well. Not to go too hard on Jim O’Donnell here — I’m sure he’s a very nice man, and we all crank out the occasional stinker — but this is really funny on a lot of different levels:

DETROIT — Bo knows macaroni and cheese.And bratwurst and cheese. And cheese and cheese. And interminable midnight bus rides under various grades of the cheese wizardry of the Wisconsin moon.

Few prime-time college basketball coaches have paid such extended regional dues as Bo Ryan. That’s why it would be very easy for the UW coach to get cheesed off that his Badgers (31-4) are generally being perceived as the big, bad grater tonight to the Cinderella run of the Davidson Wildcats (28-6).

In case you guys didn’t catch that, people from Wisconsin like cheese. Some might say that’s a cheesy cliche. Sorry.

Anyway: “And cheese and cheese.” Huh? “The various grades of the cheese wizardry of the Wisconsin moon.” Worst. Sentence. Ever.

Rest assured, there are at least two more high-larious graphs:

Maybe Bo doesn’t, but America does. From the faddists of March to the folklorists of the NCAA’s forever, the Wildcats are the high-hooping princes of the here and now. That’s not only because of their opening upsets of No. 7 Gonzaga (82-76) and No. 2 Georgetown (74-70) last weekend. It’s also because they offer a memorable baby-faced cover star — sophomore dead-eye Stephen Curry.Curry — the son of classic NBA sharpshooter Dell Curry — lit up the pre-cheese part of the march with 40 points against Gonzaga. He then quite theatrically tallied 25 of his 30 points in the second-half of Davidson’s slipper-summoning come-from-behind victory over Georgetown. Tonight, his growing TV/TiVo public awaits.

“From the faddists of March to the folklorists of the NCAA’s forever, the Wildcats are the high-hooping princes of the here and now.” That’s like … metaphysical, bro. Fuck Aqua Teen — let’s go spark and read the Sun-Times sports page! Namaste, Jim O’Donnell.

What’s perhaps worse about all this is that it subtracts from the entire point of the story, which is … actually, I can’t figure that out. It’s something about Davidson, an underdog, and there was something about macaroni and cheese and Stephen Curry and alliteration and … just what the hell is going on here?