Quick ‘n dirty
It was a long, tiring week. I don’t know why I was so drained at the end of it, but I came home and collapsed. Slept from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. Good stuff.
Let’s do this the quick ‘n dirty way. Bullets, baby:
- NPR sucks! Let ‘em sink or swim in that despicable institution they so despise: the free market, baby. Get the fuck off the subsidy, you Commies.
- The liberal bias.
- Slander is another good reason to cut their funding.
- Yankees-Marlins? Who cares?
- I love October. Best month of the year. Best time to take a stroll.
- Uh-oh! Looks like Rush was right! Through 5 weeks, Donovan McNabb is absolute tearing up the league with a QB rating of 54.2, 790 total yards, 2 TDs, and 5 interceptions. For a little comparison, the just-benched Kordell Stewart has a rating of 56.0, 745 yards, 4 TDs, and 7 interceptions. So I guess the real question is: where are all those “experts” who were balling out Rush Limbaugh for his lack of NFL expertise? They said his comments were ignorant. They said he didn’t know jack about football. Well why don’t you EXPERTS explain to me how a QB with those numbers and the reputation of McNabb isn’t overrated? I’m waiting.
Stereo-nut
The stereo is back and kickin’ ass. Had about a 13 month hiatus there, but all’s well. A while back, the power supply on my Audio Alchemy DLC preamp blew, so as a stopgap solution, Ben and I picked up a cheapo Pioneer receiver from a very strange guy in north Evanston (never did tell that story! damn!). After Benny Boy bought new speakers (nice ones—PSB Image 3LR’s), he needed the receiver back that I’d been borrowing from him since the move. So I was left without a stereo.
Enter new preamp. Harman/Kardon PT-2300, purchased used from Saturday Audio Exchange. That and some cheapo stands from Audio Consultants, and I’m in business, baby. Looks good, sounds good. I threw Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon on there and cranked “Money” like I was 15. Ahhh, to be an audiophile and too poor to afford the good stuff. Hey, it’s still a fun game. Stereo is great. The tight-ass 40 year-old white guys who run high-end—now they’re a different story. But who cares? It’s all about enjoying the sound. And I’m doing it.