Jesus Christ, DC, these are comic books. Try writing for an audience other than Rain Man.

Without actually bothering to read comics, I had always been a bigger fan of DC than Marvel. You can thank Christopher Reeve and Michael Keaton for this. Superman and Batman were the only worthwhile superheroes in my eyes (the only other superhero who was even on my radar was Spider-Man because of the 60s cartoon with the funky backgrounds).

When I actually started reading comics about 12 years ago, I shied away from anything that carried too much continuity baggage. I wanted to start out on the ground floor as much as possible so that my enjoyment wouldn't be outweighed by my confusion. I ended up by-passing all the mainstream DC titles and opted mostly for self-contained Batman mini-series or stuff that was entirely new.

But now we're living in the glorious information age! Wikipedia is a gold-mine for explaining the esoteric and unnecessarily bloated minutiae that is comic book continuity. I no longer had reason to be intimidated by backstory because a quick scan on the Interweb would educate me right quick. So, after reading some positive stuff on a recent Green Lantern storyline, I decided to take the plunge.

"... Who the fuck are these guys and what the fuck are they doing?" I wondered, after reading every single fucking page. So, 2 hours of googling and wikipedying later, I had some idea of who most of the main players were. I liked what I read, but it required a lot more work than I was expecting.

But I was now getting the lay of the land and so I kept with it and bought the next issue: "Ok, now who the fuck is this? Where the fuck are those blue guys going? What the fuck?!" Back to wikipedia for an hour. Rinse. Repeat.

I do like reading Green Lantern. And, about 20 issues later, I've got a pretty decent grasp of the cast of characters' history (and the cast involves dozens of characters) to not be completely lost while I'm reading it.

This summer, with tentative confidence, I decided to try swimming in the deep end and, for the first time, read one of the big comics summer events -- DC's Final Crisis -- complete with specials and tie-ins. It's the third (or arguably fourth) segment of a trilogy of Crisis stories / retcons that has been told over the course of decades. My confusion with Green Lantern? That was nothing. There is no way I can be brought up to speed with this ridiculous mess. It involves numerous parallel universes and a cast of thousands. And it's being written by Grant Morrison -- an incomprehensible, drug-addled, writer-of-complete-nonsense who's famous for utilizing the most obscure characters and plot-lines from DC's history and providing the audience with no clue of how to put his incompatible puzzle pieces together. He's like David Lynch, if David Lynch was an asshole who wrote Batman comics.

I don't understand why DC would allow their major storyines and premier characters to be made so inaccessible to their readers. Don't they have any interest in expanding their audience beyond those with encyclopedic knowledge or Asperger syndrome? No wonder comics is such a niche medium that, if anything, has shown negative growth over the decades. Marvel, though, seems to get it better than DC. I can read most Marvel comics and not feel like a fucking idiot.

But I don't want to read Marvel. That brand has no nostalgic value for me. I want to read Superman and recapture that feeling I used to get when I'd hear John William's score during the opening credits. And I'm trying to read Superman. But when I read an issue that involves two versions of Superman, three versions of the League of Superheroes, the League of Super-Villains, the Fatal Five, the Green Lanterns, and a bunch of other dudes -- literally, like a hundred actual characters crammed into 22 pages -- I want to tell them that it's not worth my effort. I'd rather just pop in the DVD and watch the movie for a 20th time.

Does Osgood belong in the Hall of Fame? No, you fucking putz!

I wish I made that shit up. Some Red Wings fan at pickuphockey.com posed this question, and tries to argue that Osgood may be a first ballot entrant based on his career wins. The guy spouts out a bunch of out-of-context career stats and cements his position by stating that "Stats are stats." Well, how can one possibly argue with that? Oh, yeah, I guess with the much more common adage that "Stats fucking lie." Or, in the case of Osgood's career, completely leave out the truth that he's a fairly dependable but completely unremarkable player whose stats have been padded from playing on an excellent defensive team for most of his career (much of which was as a back-up to better goaltenders).

This is indicative of a general problem I have with the typical moronic turds who think they're analysts and flock to message boards. When talking about potential HOFers, they crunch and compare numbers, peruse the league's all-time leaders lists in various categories, count the number of Cup rings... But that's all mostly bullshit. There's a much better way to decide if a guy belongs there which captures the context behind the numbers. Watch fucking hockey!! Anyone who does that wouldn't give a rat's ass if Osgood does in fact retire with better numbers than Grant Fuhr because, figuratively speaking, they're not in the same fucking league!

If and when I go to the Hall of Fame in Toronto, I want to be impressed and inspired by the faces and names. I want to feel a sense of awe, that I'm surrounded by the men (and about three women) who made the sport and hockey culture what it is today. There are names that are synonymous with excitement and drama. In my lifetime, that's Messier, and Roy, and Bure, and... uh... Adam Foote (for Rick). They are who belong. It is, after all, the Hockey Hall of FAME, not the Hockey Hall of League Leaders in Various Statistical Categories. That's why Cam Neely's in there and Mike Gartner is not. If I see Osgood in there in any capacity other than as another dude like me who's paid his admission to see the greats of hockey, I'll demand my money back.

Unless they have a video of his fight in the Roy exhibit. That'd be awesome.

I Invite TV Executives to Eat a Bag of Dicks

Like most people who aren't dumb but still watch TV, I hate it when high-quality shows are cancelled while pedestrian junk can stay on the air for a decade (go away, Charlie Sheen and Duckie). Here are five that were killed too soon.

Arrested Development

I actually kinda understand why AD was canceled -- I don't think another sitcom in the history of television required as much dedication and attention from its audience to be fully effective. It's a very layered comedy that relied heavily on in-jokes and subtly delivered double entendres. So it didn't have great ratings (I guess its strong DVD sales don't balance the books). But at least it got three seasons in and was able to go out in its prime with its head held high... meanwhile, King of the Hill is recycling the same handful of stale jokes for a 13th year and The Simpsons will again tarnish its legacy for a 20th (!) season.

Carnivàle

I totally get why this one was shit-canned. The budget was too high and the creator was too stubborn. The plan was to tell an epic story over the course of six seasons, but the curtains on this one closed for good with some huge cliff-hangers at the end of the first and only Act. What a cock tease.

The Dana Carvey Show

Damn you, Dana Carvey, why did you have to go out of your way to upset your sponsors every week? Looking back, there was an incredible amount of talent on this show (seriously, check out the credited writers) and its a goddamn shame it only lasted 6 episodes. If only it had been on HBO instead...

Firefly

This is an infuriating one. FOX sabotaged its own show before the first episode even aired. I remember I was excited back in 2002 to watch the pilot. It was about a train heist and it was pretty good, though a bit confusing. Little did I know at the time that it was actually the third episode because FOX was airing them out of order, and then didn't even bother airing all the episodes that had been filmed. The movie was good, but Whedon was meant for TV. (Hopefully Dollhouse will be another gem.)

Big Guy and Rusty the Boy Robot

This was the most frustrating cancellation of them all. It was, without a doubt in my mind, the ultimate animated adventure show for kids (too bad it came out when I was in my 20s). Fuck the Ninja Turtles and fuck Dungeons & Dragons. Big Guy and Rusty was it. It took some basic story elements from Japanese anime (i.e., mecha, giant monsters attacking cities) and added top-notch Western animation and some great voice acting. Two things that really chap my ass: 1) Like Carnivàle, this one ended with a pretty great cliffhanger. I tuned in the next week but it had been replaced by Digimon. 2) This will never, ever be available on DVD.

...

I should finish by giving due credit to the current execs at ABC. LOST has lost a lot of its viewers over the years but, despite the significant cost of the show, the network is apparently committed to it until the story is complete.

Why I Draft the Old 'uns -- Hockey Pool Strategery

The Tampa Bay Lightning would post a motto in their dressing room before each game during their Stanley Cup run: "Safe is Death." Coach Tortorella's team philosophy was that they needed to take risks in order to succeed. I think the same philosophy holds true when it comes to snake-draft style hockey pools. If you want to finish in first, you can't just load up on safe picks. You should finish well by playing it safe, but the goal is to win and you probably won't if someone else's risks pan out.

Why don't safe picks win hockey pools? Because those picks don't separate you from the pack. You don't want your final pick, like everyone else's, to finish with 50 points. Like with all your selections, you should be targeting players who have 80+ potential. It's tough to sift through the junk and uncover those few gems who are left, but they're there, and you need them to rise above the rest.

Two caveats:

1) I don't like drafting players with loads of untapped potential but who have been held back by chronic injuries. There's nothing that kills your chance of winning and deflates all your enthusiasm for the season more than losing a player for big chunks of the year, especially if deep-down you knew that was going to happen. Yeah, Havlat has the talent to get 100 points, but it's much more likely that he'll blow his shoulder early and get a measly 30. (Note: I didn't follow my own advice and took Tim Connolly with my last pick this year. Two days later I find out he has a cracked vertebrae.)

2) Don't roll the dice when it comes to early selections. If a guy consistently finishes in the top-20, don't pass him over for a guy you hope will surprisingly come out of nowhere and finish in the top-10. The risk is high and there's really no reward. Wait until the 3rd- or 4th-round at the very earliest before you make people scratch their heads with your picks.

So with all that said, why did I end up drafting a bunch of past-their-prime players the last few years? Because most people don't have faith in their potential to rebound from an off-year. I blame the pool guides. Each one identifies the "shooting stars" and the "fading stars." Problem is, they assume basically every star-in-the-making will have a big leap in points while every member of the old guard who suffered a set-back will continue to fade into obscurity. But, really, there's little reason to assume that Eric Staal will score that many more points than Rod Brind'Amour or Ray Whitney this season (Whitney was outpacing Staal last season before a freak infection took him down a notch), yet the old 'uns will go about 80 picks later in the draft. Ditto Zach Parise and Patrick Elias. Ditto Nicklas Backstrom and Michael Nylander. It's true that all players' production fade over time, but it's also true that it happens at a different pace for each player. I see no reason why Joe Sakic won't finish with at least 75 points this year (especially considering how well he came back from hernia surgery in last year's post-season) but most poolies see Paul Stastny as the new hotness and Sakic as old and busted.

I also recognize the potential for big increases in points among the up-and-comers (and I love taking rookies, to a fault). I want to have the breakthroughs just as much as the rebounds. This is the "new NHL," after all, in which the salary cap forces teams to rely heavily on entry-level contract players while overpaid veterans are unceremoniously dumped into the minors. Unfortunately, every other poolie is just as excited about taking the young breakthrough stars. Inexperience isn't considered to be as risky as age. Jordan Staal's shocking shitting of the bed in his sophomore season, though, is a prime example that top young talent isn't necessarily the smarter bet. But there's still so much demand for the hyped youngsters that they're all plucked by the time it comes back to my turn. I look down at my list and the highest player available is invariably a veteran who has seen better days but should still have enough left in the tank to surprise a lot of people. So that's who I take.