SCRAPS!

As per usual, I open this with an apology for not writing on here more. The truth is that the motivation to sit down and knock one of these out can seem laborious, especially given that some weeks are just not eventful. Now, obviously, there’s been a lot to remember over the past month-plus that will likely be forgotten or not addressed at all. As per usual, this might be a post more relevant to the past week than any extended period of time.  Life out here in Southern California is nice for the most part. In a move that can be described as a bit backwards, we went from having summer-adjacent heat to rain to a nice, chilly temperature. If this is how things will be for a while, then I’m happy to bask in it. It’s good weather to roll up your sleeves and work outside, along with just enjoying a nice cool breeze. I do fear that things will inevitably change sooner rather than later, but I don’t wish to jinx it at this time. Something else that inspired me to write this when I did was ...

Every now and then while watching the Olympics, I have this strange aversion. Not so much to the construct of the games, but there’s always something in myself that can’t get lost in the moment. I can’t merely watch the games and get lost in the novelty of watching every country on Earth compete for three medals and a chance to say that, of the billion people on this planet, these are the most athletic. I recognize the thrill of wanting your country to be the best it can be, and yet there’s some part of me that gets queasy participating in something that isn’t inherently offensive or wrong. In fact, the Olympics are objectively one of the few times that explicit national pride should be encouraged. Watching Milan Cortina the past two weeks, I felt that same hesitation emerge as I saw the media (notably NBC’s broadcasting) cater to an American sensibility. Again, that isn’t wrong. We have some phenomenal athletes who, from what I can tell, have amazing stories to share. They’ve put in t...

At the end of Bad Bunny’s halftime performance at The Super Bowl, he projected a message onto the Jumbotron. Having spent most of the performance singing in Spanish, it was a rare chance for racial barriers to be met and consider a greater truth. His message for all of the flamboyant dancing and pulse-pounding music was that “The only thing stronger than hate is love.” With possibly the biggest audience in any American sporting event watching, he was able to project that message to millions of people. It may seem obvious to most, but it seemed like a poignant deconstruction on his show. Over the past decade, the concept of being American has shifted significantly on the national stage. It’s gotten so obscene that people have preluded Olympics talk by asking other countries to not look down on Team USA because they don’t hold the same values as their president. As someone who lives here, that is obvious, though I imagine it’s difficult to know how outsiders see this recent string of eve...