2008 - Year of the (Man)Skirt

I want to talk about something different today. It's a topic I've expressed consternation over for quite some time, but perhaps not consistently enough to make clear its importance to me.

Skirts. For men. For me.

I've long had the desire to wear a skirt and experience the airy freedom that has so long been granted only to the fairer sex, but in the last few months this desire has reached a kind of critical mass so that I'm not simply going to rue my y-chromosomed fate and save my feelings for complaints; instead I'm going to do something about it. When spring comes and it gets warm enough, I'm going to wear a skirt. I don't care anymore: I'm 27 for crying out loud so why should I?

(I'm not talking about the image above, of kilts or some other silly twist on the man-skirt. I'm talking about a straight-up, no-frills skirt. Something that isn't being belittled or undermined by ethnic or cultural excuses. Really though, I don't begrudge a man wearing a kilt, that would be hypocritical. But what I'm aiming for here is something more utilitarian, something more.......natural, something that doesn't require whatever that silly little pouch is that's always hanging in front of a kilt, that bit of added clothing doesn't much jibe with my desire to loosen things up.)

Since the epiphanic moment when I was 18 and decided that I didn't really need to wear underwear really ever, my clothed life has always been first about comfort and second about comfort. For me, comfort is directly proportional to openness or freedom. (Not Bill of Rights freedom, or Braveheart freedom, but physical, untuck and unbutton your shirt freedom.) I'm very comfortable naked, and while I understand that society simply isn't ready for unabashed nudism, I still know that I'm more comfortable the closer I get to being naked. Also--and this is probably even more important--I truly cannot stand wearing pants. I will wear shorts for as long as is meteorologically possible. True anger forms when I think about how conformity dictates that a man must wear pants, especially that he must wear them year-round in "professional" settings.

I used to feel that overcoming this pants-only social policy, in favor of a more shorts-friendly one, was the hurdle I needed to clear, but lately I've come to realize that this thinking is like ordering a Diet Coke with a Big Mac: half-assed, and missing the root cause (with McD's the root issue is not the hypocritical ordering of the diet drink but the ordering of the fat-ass food in the first place). I don't need to attack pants, I need to attack the convention that doesn't allow garments other than pants. Not just shorts but skirts should also be permissible.

I remember a line from golfer Greg Norman expressing his own frustration with the pants-only PGA Tour rule: "We should be allowed to wear shorts. God almighty, women are allowed to wear 'em, and we've got better legs than they do." And right there you have another reason to let us let em hang out: we men look good down there too. I appreciate that a woman has a more delicately appealing physique, including usually-shaven legs, but it's not like a man's legs are so hideous that they must be hidden at all times. (Aside: if you're thinking logically, no I do not also think that a man wearing a skirt should then be expected to shave his legs. While I don't really have much problem with a man doing that, bowing to standard expectation is just exactly what I'm trying to combat here.)

Assuming that most men who choose to go skirt would probably not decide to shave, and further that a man's hairy legs--while largely inoffensive--are still usually not as attractive as a woman's smooth ones, it only makes sense for a man-skirt to be of a sufficient length. I'm thinking about as long as most men's shorts are: roughly to the knee or just above, at minimum. Let's say that any brave--or, put another way, flamboyant--soul who wants to bare a bit more has my blessing but not my communion.

Now that I've gotten some of the generalities out of the way, I'd like to acknowledge the hill I'm trying to scale. Scorn and derision (and worse) have always accompanied even the stray thought of a man wearing a skirt. It's impossible at this societal moment to not at least be labeled as a homosexual for wearing a skirt; this is simply a stigma that must be either ignored or else somehow overcome. I can say with experience that when initially confronting the world with an admittedly much-less-stigmatized moustache, responses varied from shock to ridicule to repulsion, but that after some time and some confidence exhibited by myself, these reactions have unanimously disappeared. The only way to go with this is to do it and do it without irony, without embarrassment, and without hesitation.
It's not a fashion statement, it's a cultural and sociological statement. There is no good reason why a man should not be able to wear a skirt and be accepted, respected, or even applauded for it. In fact, I think that most men, if they would only give it a chance, would find a skirt so pleasant that they wouldn't ever think of going back to our current unfortunate skirtless ways.

I don't know where I'm going to find a skirt to wear. I may have to befriend a designer or someone in the textile industry. But I'm going to make it happen. The tipping point has been crossed. It's too late to have my mind changed. But it's never too late to change yours. So get on board. Man-skirts in 2008. If we can elect a black guy as president, we can do anything.

Oscars

I've got to admit now that I'm pretty excited about the Academy Awards tomorrow night. For some reason, it seems like enjoying an awards show is a kind of guilty pleasure; hence the admission. I don't know though. I always like watching them cause I like movies and generally they get at least a couple decent films in the running for big awards (though they are often lost in the swarm of shit that gets nominated seemingly only to pet the egos of big traditional Hollywood crap).
The main reason I'm particularly excited about these Oscars though, is that I've got a horse in the race, so to speak. No Country for Old Men is my favorite new theatrical release maybe ever. (Remember now that I'm just 27 years old and have been culturally sensitive for only maybe 10 of those years, so we're only talking about a best-of-the-last-decade level of excellence.) I've stated many times--though only a few in this space--how fond I am of this film, but only recently have I divined the real truth of the matter regarding this fondness: that my love respect for it has gone beyond a simple artistic reverence into a more personal and opinionated love. What I mean is that my passionate fondness for this film has rendered me incapable of discussing it in any comparative or unbiased manner. The reason this is relevant is that No Country for Old Men happens to be competing directly against another holistically similar film: There Will Be Blood; and additionally that many of my friends have stronger positive feelings about this latter film. For a time, I exerted small amounts of energy exclaiming my taste for my favorite vs. the (in my opinion) the comparative shortcomings of the other. Now I've accepted that artistic quality is unfortunately something I simply cannot soundly consider when examining these two fine films. I'll tell you now again that I think that There Will Be Blood--while certainly a powerful experience highlighted by an even more powerful performance by Mr Daniel Day-Lewis--simply has its imperfections, while No Country for Old Men is amazing for its lack of them. (This statement is one that I deem to be factual, not opinionated.)
I don't have the list in front of me at the moment (which, since I'm obviously sitting at a net-ready computer right now, is code for: I'm too lazy), but I'm fairly sure that each film is nominated for eight awards, and further that they are in direct competition in seven of those eight categories. You can't help but sense the man-vs-man nature of this; and, as a sports/competition/gambling lover, I am eating it up with a big fat spoon. So, looking at everything from this perspective, you've got to share in my enthusiasm for the show: it's like anticipating a big game or especially a big boxing fight.
I don't know now if this has helped to spur your own excitement for the LA love-fest to ensue tomorrow night (mostly cause I'm into my third pint glass rum & coke), but hopefully it has. No Country for Old Men is my Buckeyes, my Steelers, my Pirates (well, maybe not my pathetic Pirates). I'm rooting it on just as I would any of the others.

SI Diary

Annual Staten Island Pilgrimage
Saturday, February 16th, 2008
1:08pm - SI trip is starting exactly as it should: ugly. We are now curiously in Brooklyn, riding an R to Canal St where we must transfer to some train that is hopefully not diverted due to construction. We're supposed to take the 1:00 ferry, now we may miss the 1:30.
1:46 - Waiting for the ferry. There is the cutest little black kid you'll ever see here. He's maybe three and he's totally smittenby a pigeon that is walking around the room. Unfortunately I'm not a good enough writer to share how magnificent it is to watch this kid track this bird.
3:41 - We're here. Finally. Tough travels. Travails. Regrettably, our waitress isn't nearly as enthusiastic as last time. She's got a tattoo--I think she's an antisocial.........She just said "It's going to be a few minutes still. I've just got to go find a bucket." (We ordered a 5beer bucket, cause we're at Applebee's, duh.)
4:58 - Dude just walked by. Me: "That guy looks like the Marlboro Man only if the Marlboro Man were a loser."
5:24 - Dave: "What am I writing? What am I writing?" Devon: "Sexy kids."
6:16 - Post Applebees. Mall time. Nothing of note yet. Going to check on the balloon girl.
8:10 - 1414 Club. 1414 Forest Avenue. Us four, one other guy missing at least one of his front teeth, and the bartender--lovin life. My new favorite bathroom is here. Sparse and rustic are two useful adjectives. Four TVs--two showing AMC (Letters from Iwo Jima), other two showing horse races: OTB next door, of course.
8:54 - Pack of four middle-aged women in front of us waiting to cross a desolate 2-lane road to get to the Drunken Monkey (our current spot), one of them hops out to cross as a car approaches, another yells "Jesus Christ Cheryl, we're in Staten Island now, you're crazy you can't do that out here. Sheesh." Should be noted that these women look like caricatures of classic SI women. Thank you, thank you.
11:08 - In the last hour I've just gotten definitely drunk. So I've got that going for me. Ill have to go at half-speed the rest of the night. So I've got that going against me.
11:11 - These hoochies at the Burrito Bar have some serious bootys. I mean that in a very complimentary way.
11: 13 - Should also here note that in the last 90 minutes I've watched the best NBA Dunk competition since MJ and Dominique.
11:30 - Here is a why a douche working out all the time can often be stereotypically pathetic (as learned by keeping my eyes open in an awful SI bar): because often they don't have anything else going for them; if they weren't fit then they'd be utterly worthless, and their relative fitness keeps them from acquiring any useful qualities.
- The Black Dog sucks dick.
11:37 - Something that I was not aware of as a phenomenon until the last two bars: the Staten Island Booty. These chicks have my kind of ass. Related aside: I guess this makes it official that I'm hopelessly in love, but whenever I see a hot chick I have a strong desire to bone not the chick but my absent girlfriend. So it is. So I am.
11:47 - Something peculiar I've noticed about this borough: as a rule, dudes don't ever kick up the toilet seat before pissing. As a man, I shouldn't be offended by this, but come on man, that shit is nasty just pissing all over the seat.
12:58am - Three black chicks here waiting for the ferry with us. Two are hot, one is attractive but too chunky. One is smoking hot but real skinny. Other is a 10 body but not as pretty. They're making me want to do it. Maybe it's cause it's after midnight and I'm still in Richmond County but I'm impressed. I wish I had my lady here now. I'm pathetic, granted, but sheesh I wish she were here. Maybe I'm a failure after all. But alas, I don't care.
1:14 - As it turns out, I'm a pervert.
2:18 - Back in the cit, finally. Feeling pretty weak, might not be able to finish the beer I just ordered. Questionably barfy, just ate a slice. Back in my old hood at Peculiar Pub. Blasphemously it appears more strumpety here than in SI. Hos abound. Short skirts even though it's frigid. Some forgot pants, even.
3:10 - Do you want to know what Dave's butthole smells like: it smells like if you took a bunch of old rotten clams, took a big diarrhetic shit on them, then steamed them in a heavily garlicked bowl of asparagus piss.

Semi-Random Diary

A little late with this:

Friday, February 8th (one day after Hudik's Birthday)

7:54pm - Just missed the F to Brooklyn, now will probably have to wait forever. Fuck you, Hudik.
8:17 - Sometimes you've just got to look good. Yeah I'm sportin the jacket and tie combo again--finally. Been shabby most of the last month.
9:46 - Almost finished Chad's New York Times crossword from Thursday. Talkin Bondi's now workin up a lather for burgers, crab biscuits, fries, and greyhounds. And mimosas, of course.
10:12 - We're at an open bar for Coors O right now. It lasts just an hour and preposterously it seems like we five are the only ones on the premises who are indulging in the freeness. This thing was publicized on myopenbar for chrissakes. Shows you how much this place must suck ass.
11:00 - Jackie Fucking Treehorn. Fuckin Fuck. Dave smokes lights now.
11:01 - Emily thinks I need a brooch. Chad thinks I'm an English douche.
11:43 - Just put Scotty's number behind a toilet in a bar in Park Slope. Have fun with that, Oily Beat-Off.
11:48 - I've been to this bar before. Last time I was rendered off-balance by a girl. I sat outside on the curb and took notes the whole time cause I couldn't stay inside and faux-flirt with the girl. I'm dumb and I'm impressionable but I'm no faux.
11:58 - I just made a fried-egg stain of wax on Emily's leg.
time unknown - Dave just agreed that he's an AIDS victim. I just talked to KRobbins about my girlfriend (her query). Hunter just mocked me for writing in this notebook. Eat shit, Josh.

On Arts

do you know how to start an argument? here is one way:

a big problem i have with music as an art form is that it is simply too accessible. it's too easy for any single person to grasp it and enjoy it and appreciate it. it's too simple.
of course i've never played or created music so i guess that's a disclaimer (obviously it's not easy), but i think it's not complex enough, not nuanced enough, not--dare i say--sophisticated enough.
(clearly using these words i'm setting myself up for at least criticism and more likely scorn. that's ok. this is opinion after all. and surely it should be understood that i'm not belittling what musicians do or suggesting that they do not clearly possess impressive and enviable talents.)

to me, the arts--music, film, literature, painting/sculpture, or simple performance--are interesting and enjoyable because they are unscientific; they are necessarily impossible to parse out into exact parts or meanings. i think what i like most about arts is its pure expression. not necessarily what something is or is about but just how it feels, and part of the joy of claiming that feeling is finding something in the art that is real or shared and then "getting it." the process, the necessary process of personally finding the art, is for me the most important effect of the art.
many people would surely disagree here, but this is my problem with music, or my reasoning in deriding it compared to the other forms of high art: that quite often there is no process, that the essence of the music is immediately presented for you, that it's just too easy for anyone to appreciate it.
i'd like not to be completely elitist but unfortunately that's exactly what my last point is doing. it's unfortunate but not everyone in the world possesses the same gifts of intelligent discernment, so necessarily there should be some things will be beyond the realm of understand and certainly deep appreciation for much of the populace. music doesn't do this. it's too inclusive. don't get me wrong now, because this is the greatest thing about music, something people have always and should always point to in describing it's necessary value: that it crosses all social and demographic lines: everyone can enjoy it at it's deepest levels. it's like baseball or barbecue or television or any other parts of americana, everyone can share its experiences communally and this of course gives it tremendous populist value.
however, at the same time, it completely undermines it's artistic being. i'm not trying to discredit music's status as an art, just to differentiate it from the other forms of art, to perhaps decry the mere act of discussing it as you might another form of art. to me, discussing music as art is to express mere opinion because the form itself is too accessible so as to have nothing to argue about. if you like a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich more than a grilled cheese, that's fine, but if you want to spend a lot of time telling me why a pbj is better than a grilled cheese, well that's just silly. a pbj is a pbj. they're delicious, lots of people love them, but let's not get carried away.

i'm going to pause now and acknowledge the difficulty i may be having in showing my point. likely the difference between music and film, music and sculpture, is simply a matter of my personal taste, which would make this whole essay a commentary on the value of all art as a starting point for discussion, rather than an explanation of the differences of stature within the world of artistic forms.

(hmmmm. now that i've about it a moment, perhaps the problem i'm encountering in being fair has something to do with the nature of our consumption of the musical art form, or the relative lack of breadth thereof. if i were to compare film to "music" then i could say sure many films are enjoyed by all and certainly wholly accessible to all, but you'd surely agree if i were to claim that many richer and (better) films are not really appreciated or gotten by the mass of the population. film like anything has a spectrum ranging from the highest exhaltant complex form down to the basest least-common-denominator unoriginal crap. with film, this whole spectrum of quality is often discussed publicly in the media. with music, the only types we ever hear about, therefore the only types we ever talk about on an individual level, is the baser, simpler, more easily accessible forms. there is a whole vast world of classical and extremely complex and difficult to ascertain music. this is not the type that is ever really seen or discussed outside a tiny sliver of aficionados. consider: citizen kane, widely thought to be the finest film ever made, was released to a national audience; the godfather films--surely not lagging far behind citizen kane on quality--are some of the most popular movies ever and we're subject to massive populist scrutiny even while being publicly judged for their quality (at the academy awards). what i'm saying is that the public discourse on film spans the entire spectrum of the form, while the discourse on music is constrained to the lower portion of it's breadth. what this means, if my thinking is consistent here, is that in the first several paragraphs of this essay, as i was having trouble condemning music without being hypocritical, what i was actually doing was condemning some music, which in light of what i've described about the film/music public distinction, is i believe more than fair.)

so, in the way we operate within the world, i find it somewhat silly, indeed impossible, therefore useless, to effectively carry on intelligent discussions about "music." and what i was saying at the top about not liking "music" because it's too accessible and not complex enough still stands because now i've figured out that there exists a distinction between music (everything) and "music" (the segment of music that we actually digest).

so i guess what we learn from this enterprise is that it indeed is an easy way to start an argument, so easy that i've just conducted one with myself.

Film Review(s)

So let's see, I've seen a few movies since my last review. For one thing, I saw There Will Be Blood, and I have some definite opinions on it, including some that would be interesting because they aren't fully in line with what you may have heard in most of the mainstream. I must have been busy shortly after seeing it; I don't know why else I wouldn't have written about it. Here is the small list of movies I've seen since November 20th (seems very long ago), with brief thoughts: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (very very good, quite interesting film by Julian Schnabel. I liked this one a lot, largely because I feel that Schnabel's experimental (for a vaguely mainstream film) techniques are fascinating and not in this instance at all intrusive.), Sanjuro (another Kurosawa/Mifune samurai movie, sequel to Yojimbo (one of my favorites of the genre), nice little movie, not much to say about it except for someone like me, who likes Japanese film and particularly this type, it's very pleasant to watch if not classic material.), Before Night Falls (Schnabel/Javier Bardem biopic that was good but not great, somewhat oddly told story that was off-putting to me at times but with many redeeming qualities including my new favorite Mr Bardem), and Chinatown (I'd seen this one before but it was on TV so I went with it again; reminiscent of Casablanca in how outside of its context it can lose a little luster as an all-timer; interestingly not one of Jack Nicholson's best performances but maybe his best movie; I love a well-done noir; finally I'd read that DDay Lewis's character in There Will Be Blood owes lots to John Huston's in this, so I paid close attention to that and it turns out to be true, though probably not to the extent that those would have you believe who might try to discredit DDay's excellent job with his character.).
So those are my recent ones. Perhaps I will try to share some thoughts on There Will Be Blood going into the Oscars. As a teaser I'll tell you now that I don't think it's as good as most people, though the more I think about it the more I might come to the realization that it's just because I'm judging it too harshly in the shadow of No Country For Old Men, a film which I think is spectacular, moreso every day that passes. In fact, these two films have me more excited for this years Oscars than any since I was enamored with Saving Private Ryan as only a historically-inclined high school kid can be. Like anyone, I like watching the awards being given out and like some I do put some small weight behind the results but I think too many times I've been slapped with reality when a clearly inferior product defeats a superb one (obvious current example--Diving Bell wasn't even nominated by its own country for the Best Foreign Film award, even though I think it should be up for the overall Best Picture prize), so it's hard to take the actual results too seriously. In a lot of ways, I find the nominees more interesting than the winners as I ascribe to what must be a widely held notion, that you can't use words like "best" when comparing art, but I do feel that you can reasonably parse out a year's worth of film into smaller groups of excellence. And of course I do feel that when a truly special film comes along, I can have a specific rooting interest regarding it winning or losing.

Anyhow, right now all this has been a long prologue to what will be a short main body of this post: my review of the movie I saw last night with my fawning girlfriend (she's smitten with the movie, not me, not in this instance at least), Across the Universe. It's a somewhat abstract musical released last year set to the songs of the Beatles. Opinion time: it's good, for a musical, which means it's decidely average, for a film. As with any musical, the acting is subpar but that's to be expected because they need to be able to sing. Now, I'm far from a musical expert, but I found that the main character has an amazing voice that's ridiculously suited to singing Paul McCartney songs, so much so that when he tries to sing Lennon or Harrison songs it doesn't sound very good. Most of the other singers are good but no one else as notable as the lead. I don't want to nitpick this film cause it's first priority is not toward simple film-ness but to musical-ness, but the story was weak. Put another way, many scenes seemed very contrived and the propulsion of plot through the too-long 133 minutes was far too often forced, though many of the cuts from scene to scene were very well done, stylistically and thematically. Again, I'd like to profess some ignorance regarding the musical genre but I suspect something they all have in common is difficulty maintaining a smooth plot; they are likely more successful when considered episodically. This film is no different, as--taken separately--almost all the scenes are very well done, always interestingly creative and sometimes visually rather breathtaking experiences. If you approach this film in that way, you will not be let down. And, speaking subjectively, two hours of your life that is spent accompanied by Beatles songs is a pleasant two hours indeed. (It's heavy on the White Album songs too, another plus in this reviewer's opinion.)

you remember that pathetic woman i work with? well i still can't stand her. "hi josh! happy friday!" -- i can't here effectively describe the pluckiness present in this greeting, nor the transparency of the pluckiness. she's a bitch. she knows it, i know it, and worse--she knows i know it. so why carry on the charade? on a more fundamental level, what disgusts me not so much about her specifically but people like her that have nothing in their lives (that comment might sound harsh but let me specify that her circumstance is through no fault but her own, it's not like she's lost friends and/or loved ones through tragedy or anything of that sort), is that these people don't get any joy from it actually being friday. they only look forward to the ability to say "happy friday!" in other words, she couldn't care less about having a weekend ahead of her (in fact she probably despises them as it cuts her off from her only real connection to the "real world"), she only enjoys the ability to be awful and obnoxious and waste people's time. and i can't stand it. it make me upset and uneasy so that i have a physical need to recoil from it. kinda like how some people feel about being around nursing homes. sure, maybe it's insensitive on my part but let's get real, that shit is just unpleasant.

The NFL Hate List

The Patriots lost the Super Bowl two days ago, to the NY Giants. As a lifelong Steelers fan, this shouldn't really cause much pain or joy. Pittsburgh was eliminated (not by the Patriots) nearly a month ago, and our traditional rival--the Browns--never even made the playoffs. However, as I was conversing with a friend yesterday, it was obvious that the SB result caused me great joy and this friend great discouragement (which is doubly odd as his allegiances are as equally dispersed as mine).
This got me to thinking about sports fandom, and more what it means to be a fan in general (ie of football) than to the more traditional idea of being a fan in specificity (ie of Pittsburgh). To illustrate the point, I've prepared a listing of teams I least like to see win the Super Bowl. I considered doing a top ten least like to see win and a top ten most like to see win, but I realized my specific Steeler fandom automatically eliminates all 31 other teams from being eligible for the latter list, whereas the former could cover any of the 31. Also note this list is "least like to see win it all," not least favorite, and there is an important difference, as least favorite is more simply about a team, whereas least like to see win is broadly about the team, their fans, their city, and any number of other variables. I'm talking about the joy/disgust of a title versus the pleasure of aesthetics.
Here it is, in reverse order:
31. New Orleans Saints -- not much needs to be said here.
30. Arizona Cardinals -- hard not to root for a perpetual loser with nothing really unsavory about them. They are the one team I'd have no trouble riding the bandwagon of should they suddenly get good, as long as it's not at the Steelers' expense. Bonus points for taking Pitt's coaching staff and installing Steelers West.
29. Green Bay Packers -- Old school. Cold. Football. And Brett Favre is all man.
28. Philadelphia Eagles -- Good quality teams usually and pathetic pitiful fans, they all would deserve it.
27. Indianapolis Colts -- Another great team with the greatest player, plus classy s.o.b. and ex-Steeler Tony Dungy. You have to respect it when you see it.
26. San Diego Chargers -- A fairly harmless good team, though Phil Rivers is dragging this team down the list singlehandedly.
25. Chicago Bears -- A good fan base and a classic team lately dominated by defense. Probably should rate them higher.
24. Washington Redskins -- can't really explain this one. Just another innocuous and classic old team.
23. Buffalo Bills -- Kinda have to feel bad for them a little, plus I was a fan of the exciting offensive early 90s teams.
22. Oakland Raiders -- Steelers used to have a little of a rivalry with them, but that was long ago. Plus the jerseys are awesome their reputation is awesome and even just the name is awesome. 21. New York Giants -- I don't really care for the NY teams but the Giants are far more preferrable and really they've never done anything to me.20/19/18. St Louis Rams/Tampa Bay Buccaneers/Atlanta Falcons -- three basically nondescript NFC teams that don't displease me in any way but also don't really ever cause me to want to watch their games.

17. Detroit Lions -- if it weren't for the Pistons being good, I'd be much more sympathetic. A classic team as well.
16/15. Houston Texans/Tennessee Titans -- two AFC South teams that don't do much for me. If Tennessee were still the Oilers, they'd be rated much worse.
14/13. Minnesota Vikings/Carolina Panthers -- two more basically nondescript NFC that for whatever reason I have more respect for.
12. San Francisco 49ers -- Boy, fifteen years ago they would have been in the top 5, easy. Many years of suck, plus Frank Gore carrying me to a fantasy title in 2006, plus Pittsburgh tying them with their fifth Super Bowl in 2005, have brought them down quite a bit.
11. Kansas City Chiefs -- I'm not sure why but I still remember losing to them often in the 90s. And there is just something that seems snotty about this team, maybe it's the way they always pose for their individual pictures wearing those pissy white turtlenecks.
10. Denver Broncos -- Their period of goodness has overlapped pretty exactly with the Steelers the last 15 years, so fuck them. Something not aggressive but definitely unsavory about this team and their fans.
9. Jacksonville Jaguars -- Kindof a quietly intense rivalry between this team and Pittsburgh. We've gone toe-to-toe many times in recent years, not always getting the better of it.
8. New York Jets -- As I said earlier, I don't care for the NY teams, the fans are really no good, which is odd because I respect NY baseball fans. For me, the difference between Jets/Giants is this: Giants are the old-school team, the better team usually, the better looking team, and the team less likely to force me to sit in a bathroom for 45 minutes while I wait for their kicker to shank two game-winning FGs so my 15-1 team can scrape by a divisional-round playoff game.
7. Miami Dolphins -- Don Shula has basically shown the world this season what's awful about the Dolphins and their odd smugness. Fuck you. And Dan Marino better keep blindly picking the Steelers to win every week cause his delicate douchebag idiot routine is close to getting him disowned by the city of Pittsburgh.
6. Cleveland Browns -- This is the toughest team to rate. On one hand, I get no more joy than from beating the Browns. On the other, it's frequency is slowly taking away the satisfaction. On one hand, this is the one fan base that probably deserves a title more than any. On the other, you know they'd abuse the priviledge of being arrogant. On one hand, they are a classic, well-respected team. On the other, I hate them. On one hand, this team shares more in common with my own than anyone else. On the other, Bernie Kosar was a hugely overrated hack, for crying out loud. Webster Slaughter. Kevin Mack. Fuck you too. Clips of The Fumble and The Drive are fun to watch.
5. Baltimore Ravens -- Most heated Pittsburgh rival of the last 10 years. Already won a Super Bowl. Brian Billick needs no introduction(though they just fired him so there is a chance they could fall a few spots). Ray lewis used to be good, but now he's just a dancing fucko ex-Miami cock.
4. Cincinnati Bengals -- We had a mini-rivalry with them for a few years there but it seems to have dissipated. Still, theirs is our freshest intradivisional hate-fest, so they rate the highest of the three. Their offense is good but there is lots about this team that screams Mickey Mouse (stupid garish unis, no defense, offense that wilts against good defenses, coach that's overmatched, just a team that you know has no chance to win a playoff game. A Mickey Mouse team one that's cute but has no spine. Texas Tech is a decent example of a college team of this ilk), and there's nothing that elicits my scorn more than a Mickey Mouse team. Plus, their record of thuggery is so ridiculous that it's not even funny anymore, just pathetic. Damn, I almost forgot: Boomer Esiason: All-Time Douche.
3. Dallas Cowboys -- Old-school Steeler rival. Tied with Pit and SF with five Super Bowl wins. Legendary arrogance. Legendary incorrigible owners and coaches. Mentioning the phrase "America's Team" is a real sure way to get my blood up. Tony Romo. TO. The most retarded stadium in the NFL. The worst most out-of-the-woodwork fans in the league. They're kinda the Notre Dame of the league, when it comes down to it.
2. Seattle Seahawks -- 75% of my distaste here comes from Super Bowl XL. Get over it. You lost. There was a game played, and some people hired to make sure it was fair, and you lost. By 11. There are close calls in every game that people complain about, but congratulations, you win the prize by far for being the biggest whiners in the history of the sport. In addition, I hate that they are basically a Mickey Mouse team that gets by because they've got a quirky stadium that gives them a built-in edge and they play in easily the worst division in football. St Louis, Arizona, and San Fran would have all gone 2-14 playing in any AFC division in any of the last five years. Good job making the playoffs Holmgren, you fuck. Even with decidely mediocre teams, you're going to go no worse than 5-3 at home because of the stadium and you're going to go 4-2 in your division. You're like Hawaii for godsakes.
1. New England Patriots -- The combined effect of the 2001 and 2004 AFC Championship Games, coupled with their three Super Bowl wins, were enough to put them in this spot before the absurdity of the 2007 season vaulted them basically off the charts here. In fact, I should rank them zero, that's how disgusted and angry thinking about this franchise makes me. Watching them lose a Super Bowl as heavy favorites is the next best thing to seeing the Steelers win one.