Witz Pickz: Friday -- The F Stands for Failure

Oscar Pistorius AKA Cheetah Legs failed in his three attempts to qualify for the 2008 Beijing Olympics that begin on 8/8/08. His court ruling went in his favor, but he was then unable to beat his best time by enough to match the qualifying time for the individual 400m. He thought he'd be chosen for the 1600m relay team, at least as an alternate, but he was left off of that team as well-- most likely for someone who HAS LEGS. Now, I've clearly been on the douchebag side of the fence on this issue, and just want to let everyone know that I'm not changing my tune.

Now you might think that this proves that the cheater legs don't give him an advantage. That thinking is ridiculous and here's why: Oscar Pistorius holds the Paralympic Record for the 400m with a time of 46.56. This means that he should have a show on NBC called The Biggest Cheater. His bionic-legs have clearly given him an advantage, it just ALSO turns out that he's just not that good a runner. Huh.

And while I applaud his effort and think he is a courageous and strong and determined person, he's still a 21 year old kid who wants to win at what he does. One article states that, "The 21-year-old Pistorius, who said his legal battles prevented him from focusing on training, had acknowledged it might be more realistic to aim for the 2012 London Olympics." I'm gonna drop the name Lance Armstrong. And you know why? Because Lance Armstrong doesn't make excuses. He makes Tour de France victories. He beats testicular cancer and then rides one nut lighter to the top. Oscar Pistorius runs two legs lighter and installs CHEETAH LEGS and doesn't make the cut. He makes excuses. And I totally understand, because it's pretty obvious that I would be a professional baseball player if it weren't for my day job, mediocre hand/eye coordination and underwhelming dedication to my dreams. I guess we'll see in 2012 if Oscar "trains harder" or if his cheetah legs get a technical improvement.

The Assassination of Jesse James By the Coward Robert Ford:
I'm gonna write this now because I don't know if THIS MOVIE WILL EVER FREAKING END!!! I've sat down and watched three significant amounts of it and each time I start to believe the end is near, but it never is. And the problem is that it's not really exciting, or compelling, or viewer friendly-- it's just really well shot and oddly interesting. I genuinely want to know what happens, but then again, don't I already know? The interest comes in the acting and the relationships and seeing how they get from point A to point B. The problem is that point A started when I put the disc in and point B may or may not exist. It almost feels like how Aqua Teen Hunger Force described Highlander: "the Highlander was a documentary, and the events happened in real time!" Each minute drags out, and there are only so many times I can bask in the glory of a well delivered glare by Brad Pitt or a sketchy, mopey regret by Casey Affleck. I might shoot a documentary of the movie and me destroying it called, "The Assassination of 'The Assassination of Jesse James By the Coward Robert Ford' by the Patriot Witz."

Miscellaneous:

A goldschlager and coke is called a "Gold and Coke" and tastes like Christmas.
A goldschlager and Dr. Pepper is called a Dr. Goldschlager and tastes like Chanukkah.

I may smile and nod, but I still have no idea who or what Perez Hilton is.
Same goes for OJ Mayo, but he sounds like a bad breakfast combination.

I accidentally and awkwardly typed "One sex" to somebody on gchat instead of "One sec" and had to spend the next 20 minutes explaining how I am part of the One Gender Movement.

If I can't even stick to eating the soup I bring for lunch, how am I supposed to succeed at anything in entertainment? Maybe I was born without motivation and need to get some Cheetah Motivation installed. Worst case scenario, I eat more gazelle meat.

The Cobbler:
The minute I heard that my friend The Color Thiel Part 2 was going to the cobbler, I knew I had to go. It sounded delicious, and I also had no idea that cobbler's still existed. It seems like such a specific job that he MUST double as something else-- a cobbler/lawyer or a cobbler by night, but a Quizno's employee by day. But nope, there was actually a cobbler. I imagined some small man, probably Danish (which ALSO sounds delicious), who would hobble and cobble all day long and into the night as the job demanded. I pictured him sleeping in the back room with a small bed underneath the photo of his first and only love who died before her time (because if I'm imagining a cobbler, I'm gonna imagine one sad fucking cobbler). I also imagined that he could grant wishes, but I think I got that mixed up with something else. Anyway, I imagined so many things that I couldn't actually go in-- it would ruin the dream for me. Instead, I sat in the car and watched as The Color Thiel Part 2 made her way into the wonderland in which the cobbler worked-- or at least tried. Because The Cobbler, as I could only have hoped, had a door that worked stable style, with the bottom being closed while the top was open. Three times she tried to get in and couldn't, until finally, awkwardly, she had to shout for the cobbler to open the door. It was at this point that I was given but a single glance at the cobbler's white, Danish arm. That was enough for me. He exists. The Cobbler and perhaps many cobblers are out there-- anything is possible.

I really want a friend who's nickname is The Cobbler.
I really want to make a combination chocolate/cobbler bar called the Cobblerone.

Dr. Goldshlager's Cobblerone Bar,
Witz

Witz DOESN'T Pick: Bionic Olympian

Perhaps you've heard of 21 year old South African sprinter Oscar Pistorius, or maybe you've heard of him by his sprinting nickname, The Blade Runner. A few days ago, the Olympic Committee overturned a previous decision and will allow Oscar the opportunity to compete (if he manages to qualify) in the 2008 Beijing Olympics. The big deal about this is that Oscar had his lower legs amputated when he was only 11 months old and now uses carbon fibre blades as legs when he races.

When I first thought about writing this post, I was going to go with the old, "Witz Isn't Sure If He Pickz..." format, but in my heart I knew the truth of the potentially bad person that I am. I don't think that Oscar should be allowed to race in the Olympics. I WANT to say that he should, because it's such a good story and all that, but I think it's important to go back to the part where THE GUY HAS BIONIC LEGS!

The man's nickname is THE BLADE RUNNER. Like, the movie-- like, where some people were human and some people weren't and-- ok, so I never actually made it through all of Blade Runner-- but machines were involved. They call him The Blade Runner because the man races using these carbon blades that are called CHEETAH (cheater, perhaps, hmmm) BLADES. They are specifically designed like the back legs of a cheetah, are lightweight, and restore 95% of the energy they exert. Last time I checked, my legs are heavy, have muscles and bones and blood, and restore 0% of the energy I exert. And that's my problem with this. The guy just simply doesn't have to deal with all the crap that people with lower legs have to deal with-- cramps, tears, muscle fatigue, lack of cheetah legs...and while I realize that not having lower legs is a problem that I personally don't have, it's not like he's replaced them with umbrellas-- they're blades specifically designed for the task he is undertaking. The only argument I've read from the other side is that the blades are more susceptible to wind and rain than regular legs, so he exerts more energy to start running. So what's a good measure of they're effectiveness vs. their deffectiveness?

Well, how about the fact that Oscar is competing for a spot in the Olympics? A UK article states,

"Despite his ill fortune, he was a keen athlete at school and took part in rugby, water polo, tennis and wrestling. Pistorius took up competitive running in January 2004, aided by his special limbs. Within eight months he had won gold in the 200 metres at the Athens Paralympics."

I think it's probably accurate that Oscar's dedication and ability to rise above his disability helped him become the athlete that he was and that he is, but isn't it a little possible that the opposite is true? That he was and is such a competitive and successful athlete because he has robot limbs? Everyone's all, "It's amazing how good he is!" at the same time they're saying, "His Cheetah robot legs have NOTHING to do with it!" It's tough to think they're entirely unrelated.


So here's what I think: I think he should be allowed to compete-- only take another look at the picture above and note what's standing next to him-- Put your legs on, sir. Not your bionic cheetah legs, but your bulky crap-legs, which are not unlike the bulky crap-legs that millions of people on this planet surely have. We don't let Iron Man play center field for the Brewers, Robo Cop is not part of any biathlon teams, and Stephen Hawking isn't racing in the Indy 500.

Finally, I think it's important to note that this Olympic Committee ruling is a major step in the direction of our ultimate doom versus the robots. There is a decision on the books where a part machine man is competing against others. This will be used as precedent for other partial and eventually total robots to infiltrate our social networks, our athletic networks, and finally, our government. From Robot Head Alarm Clock to Bionic Athlete to world domination. Robotic Dictator. That's what the D stood for in R2D2. Robot2Dictator2. Doomed.

I'd Give My Left Leg for a Cheetah Leg...and My Right Leg for a Tiger Leg, and My Two Arms For Rocket Launchers/Grappling Hooks, and My Left Eye For A Bionic Eye and-- and-- and...,
Witz