news on speed

Is it just me, or has news around town been rather slow and boring lately? I mean, even that Discovery Channel hostage ordeal turned out to be just another footnote to the week, thanks to the gods of stupid who bestowed absolute idiocy upon the gunman. And while I'm very much glad that didn't turn into a bigger story than it did (seriously, I'm very, very relieved none of the hostages were harmed), I'm disappointed that other stories around town this week seemed to fizzle out before they even got going. I mean, honestly, the most exciting news story I read this week was about how the news media has been trying so hard this week to make something, such as Hurricane Thunderstorm Earl, seem much more important than it actually is.

But, really, can I blame the media for this late-summer blah? After all, they gotta write about something. So, I guess the blame belongs on those who are actually making the news.

For example, let's take a look at that baseball fight from Wednesday night between the Nationals and the Marlins. Perhaps, it's because I don't have a penis or maybe it's because when I think of sports I think of games that involve more than a bunch of pudgy men standing around and chewing tobacco for a couple of hours, but all I got out of that story was confirmation that a lot baseball players have 'roid rage. Surprise.

Seriously, that's not news. It's just reiteration of what we already know. It's boring! And so, today, since the actual media can't do much about it, I've decided to make the news cycle a little more interesting. That's right, taking inspiration from my 'tard of a high school history teacher, who once told my 10th grade class, "The United States decisively won the Vietnam War," I'm going to make some sh*t up.

And so without further ado, let's return to baseball and that fateful night in Florida and make it more interesting:

After dodging a wild pitch from the other team's pitcher, Nyjer Morgan threw down his bat and began snapping his fingers. As the stadium lights dimmed, leaving only a single spotlight on Mr. Morgan, the rest of his teammates joined him, glitter began to fall from the sky. The rest of the team, now snapping in sync, skulked to the mound to the sound of a single saxophone, pausing only periodically to do choreographed split leaps and jazz hands to a bongo drum beat. Meanwhile, the Marlins basemen and outfielders also began approaching the mound (in sync to the rhythm, of course), where they met their opposition. As the crowd readied for a brawl, the two teams decided to do the almost unimaginable (because the whole West Side Story mound-approach seems totally realistic...) -- they had a reasonable discussion as to what happened and why and signaled they had reached an agreement when Nyjer and Marlins pitcher Chris Volstad Milli-Vanilli chest-bumped each other.

See? Much better. Let's keep going. You know that mayoral debate that went down on Wednesday afternoon between incumbent Adrian Fenty and Vince Gray? No? Yes? Who cares? Sure. It was boring. Like always, Fenty was all, "MICHELLE RHEE!!! Oh, and also Gray looks strange and is weird." Meanwhile, Gray was like, "Come on, people. I have a prominent brow and I do what I can to get by!" Or whatever. Basically, whatever they said is what they've said 100 times before. It was hardly news. This, on the other hand, would've been news:

Mayoral candidates Adrian Fenty and Vincent Gray met on Wednesday at Washington D.C.'s Newseum for a debate. It was all super boring and predictable until a dark-horse candidate parachuted in to announce he, too, would be running. This candidate was none other than Terry the Tourette's Turtle, the plastic talking toy and master debater (har!) who moonlights as the creative director behind local blog, The Anti DC, which recently won the Nobel prize for being awesome. Minutes after his surprise announcement, Terry punched both candidates in the face and announced his three-part platform: Stage 1 -- "Anal probe;" Stage 2 -- "Nipple clamps;" and Stage 3: "D-d-d-d-d-donkey dick!" The audience responded with a roar of applause and several fist-pumps. When pressed for a closing statement, Terry simply looked at both candidates and said, "Suck my balls!" Today, Mr. Tourette's Turtle is leading the polls by a gazillion points.

And on that note, which I can only assume was the brown noise (thinking up those kinds of links is exactly why I employ Terry as the creative director), I'll leave you all to your long weekends, unless, of course, you have to work. In that case, I'll leave you to hope your boss isn't around so you can just do crossword puzzles and nap.