Many apologies are due at this point. First and foremost amongst these should be my apology for delay and procrastination. An article of this fiddling magnitude should be dashed off at a moment's notice, not a subject of meditation and consternation.
That should segué nicely into my next apology: this article will not contain any enormous world-truths. As much as I enjoy deconstructing zeitgeists and cultural themes, today I am neither Jacques Derrida nor Hamlet. In the future perhaps. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.
Apology the third: I need to ramble on a bit about football. Sure, everyone wants to see the pretty pictures of lovely women, but I have to preclude that by opening my big yap about Liverpool. Liverpool have not lost yet in the Premiership this season, but finally conceded the first goals. To Birmingham City of all teams. After ninety minutes of domination, the most we could drag from a powerful and forceful display of energy and verve was a draw. Disappointment would ordinarily be the main item on offer at the cafeteria of emotions, but there are a number of reasons for optimism. In the first four Premiership matches, Liverpool managed one goal. We scored double that entire amount in one game on Saturday. The result of the game should be disbelief that we conceded two goals on two freak mis-hit balls, and burgeoning confidence that we can smash sack-loads of balls past opposing keepers, evern away from home.
Meanwhile, injury-riddled Manchester United lost to Blackburn. A ridiculously easy result to predict, but after the horrid run of injuries Liverpool had last season, it's very difficult to crow in triumph after pointing out another's shortcomings in personnel. So I won't even try.
And Arséne Wenger has responded to the swelling throng of media-folk who have clamoured for the Premiership to become more entertaining. The Arsenal manager mentioned that perhaps teams could get an extra point if they thrash their opponents by three goals or more. I don't disagree. If my team are playing Hungover XI or whatever, I want to see a cricket score, not some safe 1-0 scoreline. What's the fun in that? Can Liverpool get a goal past a dippy team desperately fighting promotion? Probably. Can they get three or four? It's worth watching to find out... Meanwhile, idiot teams like Everton could try and stop folding altogether when talented teams start kicking them all over the park. If anyone wants to do the research, have a look at what Everton did when they travelled to Highbury to play Arsenal last season. On the one hand, I'm ashamed to say that the team comes from Merseyside, but on the other, I'm ecstatic that no team in red would grab their ankles and say "AHHH" quite as enthusiastically. Then again, at least Toffees love their team, which is more than can be said for the fickle and glory-hounding bandwagon-jumpers of other teams which shall for the moment remain unnamed. If people are concerned about attendances and stadium-capacity crowds, they ought first to look at their fan base. If there's an empty seat in Anfield, I would gladly trade one of my senses to fill it : curiosity, balance, outrage - you name it.
Next, I feel an obligation to apologise to Janeane Garofalo . Some person pasted one of my articles onto a mondo Janeane Garofalo site, and of course, it had to be the article which detailed the slipping of the comedienne from 9th spot to 20th. Those who have read the posting about twentieth place will no doubt have realised that I dashed off a fairly flippant cursory analysis in which I off-handedly dismissed some of Janeane's political activism as some sort of flaky, trendy, west-coast, left-wing, tree-hugging hippie-weirdo excrement. I realise now, considering the "Impeach Bush" campaign and other indicators of awareness, that my dismissive attitude was disrespectful and the product of a profound lack of knowledge. So in addition to having the lovely Ms. Garofalo plummet eleven places in the table, I managed to add insult to that injury. My apologies are freely proffered. My mortification knows no bounds. If it did, it would certainly invite them round for crisps and tea.
And now, I move on to my final apology. Fifteenth spot on my Pulchritudinous Premiership has not changed. Last season to this one, considering the upheaval and turmoil, one would assume there would be a shuffling of things, and well there has been. Three people relegated, three promoted - the odds of someone retaining a position are pretty remote. That being said, four women have kept their exact same numerical position whilst all about them have been shuffling theirs. Jennifer Love Hewitt has already been demonstrated to have been one at number 19. Those of you able to research through the archives will by now already know the occupant of this spot on the table, but without any further ado - 15th place continues to be held by...
Anna Faris
This lass has never received the recognition that she deserves. Of course, she's been struggling mightily to divest her thespian portfolio from the "Scary Movie" franchise, so her endeavours are entirely understandable.She's funny, she's versatile, she has this strange sense of humour that makes me quirk my mouth in a smile whenever she hitches her eyebrows, and she doesn't take herself too seriously. This may be fast becoming a theme on this page, but anyone who rather staidly decides that they are a responsible cultural icon and needs to behave accordingly is a prat. Anna is amazing because she can retain a very solid sense of perspective, and apply it to her every action. Symptomatic of an existential thinker, and a brilliant actress.
Of course, the picture to the left doesn't really do her justice. She's trying to be too serious, and it looks as though someone has just hosed her down with an industrial-sized can of non-stick baking pan fluid. That's almost as bad as a serial-hyphenation spree. Gah!
In any event, the same comments I made in praise of Miss Faris during last season are still applicable. I'm a sucker for deadpan comedic delivery, and Anna is phenomenal at taking the mickey out of the stereotypical shrieking hysterical female victim/heroine.
In an era of political correctness wherein women have to simultaneously portray towers of emotional strength in order to satisfy feminist interest groups and panicked, screaming, horrified pawns in order to satisfy whatever bizarre demographic enjoys that sort of things in horror films, it's tough to find a balance. Anna manages to pull it off, however, and my respect is virtually boundless. Her career is destined to burgeon further, and I look forward to seeing more evidence of her diverse talents as she moves forward. Watch this space. This is a woman with an ascendant star. Incidentally, the picture on the right makes Anna look remarkably like Tina Fey, who is jockeying for promotion in the coming season, so that should create at least a tiny modicum of drama and tension for the 2006-2007 season. Or maybe not. I might be the only heterosexual who finds Tina Fey enormously attractive. Who knows?In the meanwhile, Liverpool are now facing off against Chelski in a two-match double-header (there are the hyphens again...) and there is a wonderful article on my hero Jamie Carragher at http://www.liverpoolfc.tv/mediawatch/drilldown/MW8994050925-1119.htm. I was hoping to delve into a deep analysis on footie tactics, but I can see that I don't have enough time or energy for such things. I've been babbling about holding midfielders and wide, five-man midfields for far too long without committing myself down in text. What I want to do is be ahead of the next revolution. When people begin to understand that you need a holding midfielder to balance a man in the hole or a supporting striker, the game will change again. Chelski are ravaging everyone because their opponents are either so busy trembling with fear to bother with tactics, or they are unable to deal with Chelsea's wide men and Makelele.
As soon as I reckon out the next wave of tactical innovation, I'll let you know.
Cheers,
-mARKUS
^+Justice for the 96+^
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