Let’s see… the Cardinals, the Yankees, and the Cardinals again. World Series, 1942-44. The best players weren’t on the field — busy elsewhere those years — but one reason Why We Fight is to have the freedom to enjoy life’s frivolous pleasures.

We’ve heard various versions of “how can you do that at a time like this” over the years, as if frivolousness isn’t a cherished part of human nature, the simple joy of simply existing. The weight of the world is for the gods to carry, not us.

Which is a helluva way to justify the Stinque Braquet, but bullshit is our business, abetted as always by the organizational wizardry of Braquet Dowager Mellbell.

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We doing this? Really?

We’re all for a Return to Normalcy, and sure, millions of Americans are getting injected with spytech nanobots by the day, but we thought the party doesn’t start until this summer when the Roaring Twenties come back, or, to use a more personal reference, the Disco Seventies.

Just you wait. You’re thinking Flappers, but our bet’s on Toga Parties.

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But his Buluva watch survived!

Stick to sports, they say.

That’s what they told Deadspin. Deadspin, a website founded on the premise of not sticking to sports at all. They, in this case, being the guys who own Deadspin, the guys who own it after the previous guys owned it, the guys who bought it from Nick Denton, who sold it because some billionaire set out to destroy Gawker.

Stick to sports. Stick to the game.

Deadspin’s rise and fall was the game.

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It’s that time of year again, and— wait, what year is this? Really? Is he still President?


Well, since we seem to be stuck in this Timeline for the duration, why not enjoy some Bread & Circuses & Hoops & Armageddon &—

Are you sure he’s still President?


Nancy’s not gonna help us out of this one, and Beto’s busy prancing on every tabletop in the room, so we might as well endure the Stinque Braquet, hosted as ever by Braquet Dowager Mellbell.

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You know what we could use right now? Kitties. Lots of kitties, running around and playing and discovering their new world and being totally adorable. We could use that, the innocence of kitties, their unbridled joy, the knowledge that not everything is an absolute shambles, the hope that there’s still a future out there when we all survive this mess.

But we don’t have any kitties available at the moment, so we’ll have to settle for basketball.

There’s an enthusiasm in college basketball you won’t find anywhere else, a hothouse of thousands of fans jammed into an arena, the pace of a game turning on a moment, then turning again the next. Find that in a behemoth football stadium.

Or really, find it where you can, because we can all use all the joy we can get in these dark times, and if you’re the kind of person who finds joy in taunting the decrepit prediction skills of friends, then you’ll find joy in the Stinque Braquet, hosted as ever by Braquet Dowager Mellbell.

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War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength.

And Madness is sanity.

In the years we’ve been promoting this joint, we actually had a Preznident who knew something about the subject — who knew many things about many subjects, which is kinda what you want in a Preznident, or someone near him.

And now we have a failed owner of a failed football team in a failed league, who very likely knows less about Sport than we do, and definitely knows less about everything else.

And you know what? We’re fine with him not caring. This may be the only escape America can enjoy for the duration.

So while Our Exceptional Republic’s leaders are crafting charts showing how quickly they can funnel money to the top of society, you’re invited to once again show the world how quickly you can fall to the bottom of the Stinque Braquet, hosted as always by Braquet Dowager Mellbell.

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Wait, what? There’s more Sport? We thought Sport came to an end a few weeks ago, when Your Denver Broncos (now Our Denver Broncos, given our recent vertical relocation) won the Super Soaker (or whatever), which was one of those quaint Colorado traditions we thought we could happily ignore until two days later a million fucking people assembled downtown for the express purpose of turning our morning commute into bloody hell.

All the retail high-potency vape pot in the world (or the legally available part of it) won’t make up for that shitstorm.

But since we’re a Socialist Anarchist this year, at least until the convention, political propriety requires us to share the glory and announce our annual Festival of Fail, the Stinque Braquet, hosted again by Braquet Dowager Mellbell, whose beloved Cardinals have already won by refusing to show up.

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