High Art via the Future of the Internet/ How DBSF Learned to Keep the Internet Afloat and Love JR Smith: DBSF Anniversary Edition

April 23, 2010 the internet was facing the fate of the telegraph, and Speak and Spell--it was becoming a victim of the modern age. But from the top of the key (i.e., somewhere in the lower- but not so-lower-middle class environs of PG County) DBSF emerged, charged to the foul line, crossed-over, Byron Russell-forearmed away modernity, stepped back, and hit the game winner that kept the internet ever-influx, -intrigued, and (most importantly) -existent. In honor of the anniversary and Herculean accomplishment, DBSF reminisces on some compact fluorescent highlights:



Post 1: DBSF calls Brandon Jennings rookie of the year. In the year since, Jennings is doing to the field goal percentage in basketball what Mario Mendoza did to the batting average in baseball. If there was any doubt as to DBSF's utter ignorance with respect to projecting sports' performance, post 1 presents a valuable premonition (which is odd--kind of like facing one mirror toward another and seeing the infinite sameness--in that DBSF was capable of correctly predicting that he is incapable of correctly predicting events; any readers with a post-Algebra II comprehension of arithmetic are encouraged to take a stab at the theoretical underpinnings).

Up there with Einstein's Theory of Relativity, DBSF discovered the Theory of the Inverse Relationship between Basketball Ability and Fashion.



Determined the answer to the mass-transportation conundrum: how do we get all those people from one place to another place?

DBSF enters theatre. Quickly exits. Stage right. DBSF Re-enters theatre. And, stays.

DBSF remembers a great. If you take nothing from DBSF (or if you are not cultured enough to appreciate such high art), remember that Andre the Giant allegedly once drank 327 beers in one sitting.

Chris Collinsworth . . . well Chris Collinsworth basically makes DBSF appreciative that all those good people at the FBI are so rigorous in identifying "threats" to our children and require the threats to identify (i.e., "register") themselves.

DBSF challenged Team AI's understanding of geography.

A dude that looks fluent in Staten Island punches an old man at a tennis game (er, match). Good thing the fashionably-cut t-shirt wearing octogenarian-puncher wasn't black, called a racist name, and had a beer poured on him because that results in a $7 million fine/ lost compensation. If you're white and from "the Island"? Penalty? "Yah, yah, bra. Chil' bra'. Yah, yah, you needda chill bra."



DBSF recognized a hero-cum-punter, who to the local populace in Brookland, at least, is indistinguishable from Ben Roethlisberger.

DBSF introduced us to sub-humans, and sub- sub-humans.

DBSF sympathizes with the Cavs, while lamenting that he doesn't possess Blake Griffin's physical gifts.

It's been a grand year. Year two's goals consist of lavishing praise on Serge Ibaka to the limits of pre-restraining orderdom, and of establishing the anti-, anti-Jimmer Fredette NBA Fan Club (i.e., DBSF isn't cheering for/ against Jimmer just against people that cheer against him).