The Mitchell Report is out. Its not perfect, its not a whitewash; its a start. I think I know what's going on: Mitchell sat down with Selig and Fehr and said: here are 89 well-documented cases. They will stand up in court. Its ugly and you must take more action. HOWEVER: I have another 100 or so cases right here. Not scrubs. Not retired guys. Not guys 1 or 2 years from retirement. 100 current players including your biggest stars--the core players of 15, 20, 25 franchises. A couple of my Red Sox too. The evidence is not as concrete. It may be circumstantial, but it is substantial. I will give these names to Congress and state attorney's general. They have subpoena power. They will indict a lot of steroid injected asses. They will go after GM's that were aware of illegal drug trafficking. If you two don't make dramatic changes in 6-12 months you will be facing your worst nightmare.
P.S. : BOO ROGER; WE BELIEVE YOU ANDY
- Constantine
- New York, New York, United States
- You can find anything and everything in Constantinople
An Amerikanaki in Athens --2008 Trip to Greece
Baby Blog: Pictures, Images & Poems (click here)
Great Blogs & Sites
http://Johnmetaxas.com Excellent blog on Greek matters
Outrageous Books, Sensational Music, Awesome Art
Julian Barbour's "The End of Time". He says time is an Illusion. The book is hard but he might be right. http://www.platonia.com
Bulgakov's "The Master and Margarita"
Bach's Chaconne in D Minor BWV 1004 (Orig. Violin AND the Busoni Piano transcription!)
Tartini's Sonata in G minor
Our Lady of Vladimir-- Icon from Constantinople, 12th c.
Our Lady of Vladimir
Current Comments 3/5/2008
...and the Truth shall set you free
Jesus Christ
Jesus Christ
The Sublime
From the facing page of Thomas Wolfe's
"Look Homeward Angel"
...a stone, a leaf, and unfound door; of a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.
Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh have we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.
Which of us has known his brother? which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us has not remained forever a stranger and alone?
A waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost among bright stars on this most weary unbright cinder, lost!
Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?
O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again
A Dream Within A Dream
By Edgar Allen Poe
Take this kiss upon thy brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow—You are not wrong, to deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand—How few!
Yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep—while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! Can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
"Look Homeward Angel"
...a stone, a leaf, and unfound door; of a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.
Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh have we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.
Which of us has known his brother? which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us has not remained forever a stranger and alone?
A waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost among bright stars on this most weary unbright cinder, lost!
Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?
O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again
A Dream Within A Dream
By Edgar Allen Poe
Take this kiss upon thy brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow—You are not wrong, to deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand—How few!
Yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep—while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! Can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
