Harry Kalas is gone...

There are some people whom, though you may never have met them in your life, their loss nevertheless fills you with profound sadness. Today Harry Kalas, known to Phillies fans as "Harry the K" died. Growing up in the seventies and watching the Phillies, I remember that voice so well. Hearing it to the present day it always stirred memories of watching games with my father. Mr. Kalas' voice was an incredible gift, and it always gave games added emotion and drama. Listening to Harry, you felt as though each home run or strikeout was another play in a competition taking place on Olympus. When watching with my dad our emotions would reach great heights whenever "Michael Jack Schmidt" (Harry always included his middle name" ) hit a home run, and the emotional of those moments helped bond us, despite the disagreements and arguments that would plague us in later years. With my father's passing, it seemed when I would hear Harry the K's voice broadcasting the Phillies, there was still a ghost of my father still in the room, and I was still a kid watching, looking up to my father for his take on the game, both of us filled with simple happiness at the joys one gets from watching baseball. Now that he has gone, it seems one more link in the chain of memories connecting me to my father has been lost. So rest in peace in Harry. Whatever game they play in heaven, they just found an announcer for it.

Sadism, the fright wing, and the "Other".

I came across this by Glenn Greenwald from a few months back that I missed. Sums things up all too well.