Take Me Out to the Ballpark

I'm heading out to catch tonight's Frisco Rough Riders game and stuff myself with stadium food.

Since any blogging I do today will be late, I felt I'd point you to the
latest by Victor Davis Hanson (tip of the CVC to lgf).

In a word, we have devolved into an infantile society in which our technological successes have wrongly suggested that we can alter the nature of man to our whims and pleasures — just like a child who expects instant gratification from his parents. In a culture where affluence and leisure are seen as birthrights, war, sacrifice, or even the mental fatigue about worrying over such things wear on us. So we construct, in a deductive and anti-empirical way, a play universe that better suits us.

In that regard, for the moment George Bush is a godsend. His drawl, Christianity, tough talk, ramrod straight strut — all that and more become the locus of our fears: French and Germans on the warpath? They must have been Bushwhacked, not angry that their subsidized utopia — from a short work week, looming pension catastrophe, and no national defense — is eroding.

Oh, and I've decided that minor league baseball is a far superior product when compared to the major league version. Maybe not better play, but much more bang for the buck. Hustle and effort sans the egos. Not to mention how nice Frisco's ballpark is, and how good the hot dogs are.