Afternoon bike Commute: stopping at the museum.

This mornings Korean v. Italy match and the events of the internation world at large are starting to spin together, form networks, and draw parallel lines where there’s no good reason for there to be any. The Mexican’s are heartbroken. Politicians run at the mouth and lay claims to victories that may or may not be theirs. It is evident in watching these matches that the rest of the world hates our guts. For every goal we score there’s a billion people who contemplate their revenge. A sporting Imperialism that can be counted off in 90 minute battles and red cards. I fear for us all while watching the US march closer towards the final frontier of soccer.

I’ve been checking the state departments website every hour for the last hour to see when they are going to release a recommendation that all Americans leave the country of Germany before fridays match.

We really have no idea.

The Germans have history and century old stories with this sport. This is the real deal. If you need further convincing, read Bill Buford’s Among the Thugs. It’s an eye-popping, sick look into the hooligans now dictating the direction right now. I think the Italian would have been slaughtered if they had taken it from the Koreans today. I don’t blame them for losing.

Sometime I bike home from Minneapolis rather late in the evening. Lately, as I make my final push towards home up Summit Avenue I’ve been noticing strange antics, lights and some jiggy hip hop “shake-you-rump” styling emitting from what was supposed to be an otherwise empty and abandoned governors mansion. I was always too tired to investigate but I was fully convinced our Governor was in there with a head full of crank entertaining Chinese dignitaries with some serious Eyes Wide Shut type of shit. But turns out it was only his 22 year old son throwing raves for underage high schools girls. It’s all just too much to take right now.