Hawk Yeah!

Well I'd say that was pretty convincing.

A total team complete game domination.  An old school asswhupping.

Tough to pick a Super Bowl MVP.  Like the '85 Bears, it had to go to someone on the defense. Malcolm Smith was in the right place at the right couple of times (just like he was to seal the NFC championship); got no qualms that they gave it to him.  But it was the guys getting up in Old Manning's face who really deserved it.  They got Peyton's jersey plenty dirty (as New England couldn't).

And the offense, which kept cranking out 1st downs, deserves a ton of credit for keeping the other guys' most prolific offense in history off the field. Under-respected receivers Baldwin and Kearse got to taste end zone glory - the latter's spinning, defender-shucking romp was simply awesome - way to go, local kid!  As did Lynch, unlike his predecessor in Beast-dom, the late great Walter Payton.

Yes, this team and its players deserves to be compared with all-timers.

Percy Harvin finally earned his millions... in twelve electric seconds.  Richard Sherman was so good he played himself out of the limelight, for once.  Russell Wilson far outshined a first-ballot hall of famer.  The list goes on and on.  Every man contributed, every single Seahawk left it all on the field.

John Schneider, the man who put it all together, got plenty of well-deserved credit - when is the last time an exec got so much press?  So did coach Carroll, who mentioned to the 12th man over and over (as did commissioner Goodell, and Paul Allen, and everyone else).  I expect he led the guys through some new age meditation mumbo jumbo in the days prior or whatever - goddamn hippy, he'll never win in this league... right?

What a win for the city of Seattle.  Expectations were sky high all season, and our boys in blue lived up to every one of them.  Won the division.  Won home field.  Eliminated our rivals for the NFC crown.  Then, on the biggest stage of them all, executed an epic beat down.

Hawk Yeah!

Hawks Win! Seahawks triumph over 9ers in epic fashion! Too many huge plays to remember!

Super Bowl XL was too big for us, we weren’t ready.  But these '13 Hawks is.  Defense wins NFC Championship, the headlines will read tomorrow.  They only tested Sherman twice all evening; his interception assist in the end zone was ridiculous, obviously the play of the game.  Or was it, even?

I can think of six other candidates which deserve consideration.  The first is the heave to Baldwin which set up the Seahawks’ only points of the first half.  Because that showed Russell wasn’t cowed.  The next is Marshawn’s beast burst with that Walter Payton kick move; sweet as every flavor of Skittles at once.  How is that corporation not paying that man?  Who is his agent, that he’s doing “Stop Freakin’, Call Beacon” instead of national “Taste the Rainbow” ads.  Third best play of the game was the fourth down hail mary touchdown to Kearse; easily the best play of any other game.  Fourth was Kaepernick running and slinging, it has to be said: dude’s an incredible athlete – but I prefer Russell’s head.  That 9ers defense was all over number 3 all night, he had to scramble backwards like his video game avatar just to get rid of it and hopefully avoid intentional grounding.  Aldon Smith got after our QB, it has to be said.  Which is why I’m looking forward to the Super Bowl.  I don’t think Denver’s got half San Fran’s defense.  And Old Manning, for whom I have nothing but the ultimate respect (his hall of fame career and his demeanor as a role model family man have inarguably exceeded any football aficionado’s hopes for someone to look up to), is gonna have to run for his life against this pumped up D-FENSE!

3 takeaways in the 4th quarter, nuff said.  Especially that gamewinner - damn!  Who deserved the game ball? Everyone.  Blue’s D-Line dominated, stuffed Gore, and the secondary the pass completely.  Yes, we did let that Irish bitch loose a few times but held firm when it counted.  Like after that first-play fumble.  Important that the D held then, and indeed, kept us in the game throughout the 1^st half.  Easily could’ve gotten out of hand there in the 2^nd quarter. 17-3, 24-3 at the intermission.  Offense wa’nt doing shit at the beginning, but I love we kept poundin it with Skittle Beast (damn he got a sweet skittle skip – and he stiffarmed A.Smith to the ground that time too, changed -5 into +2) and it opened up a couple times.  You could tell it was going to after he got ten to start the second half.  Then he busted that great one.  Place went nuts.  Then you could smell a fumble coming, and it almost happened three times but Kaepernick zipped that lazer beam to quiet us, kinda.  Then Baldwin returned that kick almost to the house!  89’s second huge play of the night.  Best play candidate because with it the Hawks regained the momentum.  What’s number six?  The 2 delay of games attributable to the 12trh man?  Very possibly.  Maybe it was that S.F. assistant’s cheap shot on the sideline – fire and fine that fucker – maybe it was that long Hauschka kick that made our hated archrivals need a touchdown to win it in our house.  Maybe it was the plays their quarterback didn’t make with his legs because of the halftime adjustments by our Defensive Coordinator.  Maybe it was one of several forgotten third-down conversions (mostly to Baldwin) with which we retained possession.  But how can anyone deny the heroics of Navarro Bowman, who got his leg broken but held on to the ball at the goal line; whose martyrdom was somehow not reviewable / challengeable.  An injustice.  I like that Marshawn, in a soccer-like gesture, gave the ball right back, out of sportsmanship.  Did y’all notice that?  Or maybe you thought it was Karma.

C’mon Skittles.  Give the man a contract.

C’mon D.  Win us one more.

Go hoist that trophy,

Bring it home, Hawks. 

'Lone Survivor' : Long Game High Ground

That pretty young Afghan boy with the big eyes pondering why we decided to take the humanitarian route, that decidedly 'brown' Arab kid practicing our words; think about that.  

Those villagers helping Marky Mark were cool and made sense, as did the inevitable military brotherhood tripe – which is probably indubitably accurate.

Hollywood personalizing the soldiers with enhanced peccadillos was obvious, so too was the call for more hardware on the ground and in the air (subtext: it all could’ve been avoided given more "defense" contracts).  

But really, the movie was all about the importance of making an impression upon the next generation of our enemies’ doormats.  

Those few hero marines who perished in combat because they followed the rules of engagement wouldn’t want to be thought of as martyrs, except to their loved ones (by whom they inevitably will be). They were just doing their jobs, obeying the directive of their commander-in chief.

Because they’re Frogmen – Hoo-rah!  Maybe they were even actually cowards come crunchtime, who knows, who cares?  There’s no declassified evidence regarding any of this shit.  But that wouldn’t make for such a saleable story.  Hey, at least they put themselves there, which is more than one can say for the 99%.

Marijuana as “Medicine” - Just what the M.D. / Ph.D. / J.D. ordered

Marijuana as “Medicine”

Just what the M.D. / Ph.D. / J.D. ordered

I am a Seattle lawyer with chronic back pain and a history of S.A.D.  I suffer from spinal arthritis and a genetic predisposition to alcoholism.  I have been prescribed Oxycontin, Hydrocodone, Prozac, and Wellbutrin and told not to mix them with booze.  Frustrated by my constantly knotted bowels, nervous terror, and desire to jump off a bridge, I decided to seek an umpteenth opinion.  On the advice of my metaphysician, I recently filled a medical marijuana prescription.  It’s made all the difference in the world.

It has been one year since we Washingtonians passed Initiative 502.  The medical marijuana industry stands to lose big from regulation when it finally kicks in next Spring; indeed, the only people I know who voted no were MMJ distributors.  We patients will be fine; the new scheme only expands our rights.  Vendors, on the other hand, must become state-licensed.  There are currently hundreds of untaxed, unregulated pot shop shops in Seattle.  Only 21 in-city licenses will be issued.  Here’s hoping that such a paucity of legal suppliers will indeed be able to decrease black market demand, and that industry experts (i.e., medical marijuana collectivists) will overcome their paranoia about having cameras recording every inch of their operations 24-7, and file the paperwork to go legitimate.

D.C. told Olympia: “We’ll back off and wait to see what happens if you promise to thwart the black market, and keep it from kids” – goals which the DEA has unequivocally not itself achieved in its protracted war on its own minority citizens.  The cost of zero-tolerance over the years has been incalculable.  But I digress.

The federal government continues to classify THC as a schedule 1 hallucinogenic.  It’s on par with LSD because the other Washington recognizes no benefits.  Anyone who witnessed San Fran in ‘68 can probably imagine a balancing test in which mind-altering (read: subconscious-outing) chemicals are perceived to be threatening to the establishment.  And to be fair, THC is de-square-ifying.  On the other hand it confers certain benefits. 

Because the debate lacks empirical evidence, I, as one of the few people in the world with permission to walk around with a joint in my pocket, feel duty-bound to relate my iota of experience. 

Here’s what my addiction looks like:  I come home from my job stressed.  My back and neck hurt.  I desire to unwind.  Rather than ten fingers of scotch, I pour myself a half-cup of chilled lemon water into a double-percolated glass-blown hookah pipe.  Then I select exactly the right strain of cannabis for my needs, play some evocative music, stretch out on floor pillows like the Cheshire Cat, and light up.  Occasionally (usually on weekends) I take a whole day to check in with myself; I find that self-psychoanalysis facilitates good mental health.

Why doesn’t Obama just order the FDA to conduct a clinical trial?  Because he knows what the results would be.  And then he’d have to comment.  But he doesn’t really give a darn – it’s only pot. 

Leave it to the states, says our judicious leader, re-delegating to we grantors of his power our 10^th Amendment rights.

Herb might adversely affect adolescents’ brains say medical professionals.  Okay, restrict it to adults; that (kind of) works with alcohol.  Prosecute street deals.

Black marketers are businessmen; they have bottom-lines, like everyone else.  Cut deeply enough into their profits and they cannot continue to function.  Take away their weed sales, and they will have to shut down their entire operations, including distributing to minors bath salts and meth. 

Now the only guys who will sell weed to kids are SOL.  Shucks, maybe they’ll have to look for a 9-5 gig.

Interestingly, prior criminal convictions for marijuana related offenses will not preclude entrepreneurs from applying for the grower, processor and distributor licenses now available.  Which seems correct – after all, what other job can a convicted brother get?

In my opinion, in this case, federal interests will be excellently served by regulation at the state level.  And the economics of the idea is sound: tax the profits; conserve – indeed, increase – our monetary resources for use on more pressing problems.  Furthermore, society in general will profit from the more equitable treatment of its tan men.  Legislation which produces discriminatory results is per se unconstitutional.[1]

We’ll have to wait and see how it all plays out.  But I for one vow to continue to use medical marijuana even if the federal government does step in.  Because bud is kind for what ails me, way mellower than anything else.  And as a citizen it is my right to civilly disobey unjust laws and try to catch a court case.

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[1]  The appearance of anomalous district boundaries was sufficient to state a claim under the Equal Protection Clause for racial gerrymandering. [DeWitt v. Wilson, 856 F. Supp. 1409, 1412 (D. Cal. 1994)]. (Source: http://definitions.uslegal.com/r/racial-gerrymandering/)

Seahawk Studs Suspended for Smoking Plant Less Harmful Than Alcohol

The Seahawks will battle the Saints next Monday for first place in the NFC without two of their top defensive backs, Brandon Browner and Walter Thurmond.  Second-stringers will have to do their best to slow down Drew Brees because the starters smoked pot and got caught.  To be fair, Browner’s gotten burned a bunch this year; maybe he’s been playing baked.  But Thurmond surely hasn’t, all he’s done is relax with a joint or two rather than pound Vicoden and beer like his peers do.[1]

Yeah, Ricky Williams and Tyrion Mathieu smoked weed and maybe it messed with their heads a bit.  But it’s way better that they puffed herb than abused alcohol, isn’t it? Athletes’ bodies are fine-tuned machines, booze is horrible for them, so what - jocks don’t get to hang?  Marijuana use doesn’t signal “character issues”, it signals interesting characters, like basketball’s Bill Walton and Bison Dele.  But football players are only encouraged / allowed to be macho drunk meatheads.

What’s with all the NFL DUIs anyways?  Can’t y’all afford drivers?

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[1] SI’s Michael McKnight reports that many NFL players “see marijuana as a viable option to the pills and injections given to them by their employers to manage the side effects of their violent occupation.” (‘Joint Account, The politics of pot in professional football’, Sports Illustrated, Nov. 25, 2013)

The Trajectory of Russell Wilson’s Balls

He flings Tecmo Bowl blimpballs, easy for receivers to adjust to; his range is about 70 yards.  Kid’s got a cannon – everyone remembers his “Simultaneous Possession” hail mary to Tate.  Hawks fans also remember well number 3's heave that beat Brady last year.  His precision touchdown to Baldwin Sunday just before halftime (it must be mentioned: he manages the game well) was beautiful, it plopped down right where only his guy could catch it; above double coverage with pinpoint accuracy.

Also, Russell Wilson has courage.  And ambition and drive.  In a word, balls.  I like that he’s studious (whenever it’s the D’s turn he retires to the bench with his notebook and immerses himself in intellectual analysis of the game) does well in interviews, etcetera.  I like that he's heady: he only runs when he has to, and protects himself.  I like that he played baseball, because he knows how to slide, and can flip backhanded touchdown pitches.  I love that he sacks up in crunchtime, and that he sprints out of the pocket and threatens to run... then throws over the top like Randall Cunningham.

And I love that fact that the young man has proven himself to be a mature and capable leader.  I trust him to use the clock to his advantage, and to make something happen with his huge gun or his lightening quick pistons, and never to bitch when he gets hit.  Never to commit a personal foul (unless someone deserves it).  Never to whine about his coaches or teammates.  Certainly to appreciate Hawk Nation Fans, who have fallen in young with the brainy underdog.  Stud’s got big balls.  His potential is as sky high as his throwing style, because of his physical, emotional and intellectual IQ.

Tokers' Right: Peaceful Assembly

The 1^st Amendment grants American citizens the right to assemble peacefully – ever been to Hempfest?  Diverse strangers co-mingling under the influence of marijuana is a sight for starry-eyed humanists to behold.  Whereas such a gathering would obviously be dangerous chaos were everyone drunk.  Marijuana is less bad than alcohol.  

One of the deficiencies in Washington State Liquor Control Board’s rules is that marijuana cannot be consumed in public; not even inside a club.  Never out in the open (although this rule is ignored all over Seattle) and explicitly not in a park, which sucks.  Nor at a concert, nor at a ball game...  It’s prohibited like booze and like cigarettes combined.  Unless one owns one’s own home one has no legal place to get high.  

I applaud the Seattle Police's provisional decision not to enforce.  But power should be vested in the people; I suggest explicitly permitting it in spiritual temples, like churches.

According to pertinent jurisprudence, recognized members of recognized indigenous communities get special “spiritual uses” protections.  That is, Native Americans on Native land can do hallucinogens (which pot is).  Fair enough; tribes should be treated as quasi-sovereign, since they are.  But what about we Rastas and Hindus?  Why can’t I convert to whichever religion I choose?  Oh I yeah, I can.  

My 1^st Amendment right of assembly also confers upon me the right to join any religious or secular association.  A tribe (not the government) gets to decide who is a member of said tribe.  

The counter-argument is I should just get a vaporizer.