Friday, January 25, 2013

Te'o-Gate

Allow the recent plight of Manti Te'o to serve as a reminder to us all: No controversy in this once-mighty nation is worth a damn if it doesn't have a " - gate" affixed to the end of it.
By doing so, credibility is achieved.
It's probably in the Constitution (if any of us had the time to read it) ...

Now that we've established the rules n' regs of Te'o-Gate, we can proceed with the attack of the talking points which the mainstream media has missed (or avoided) in this coast-to-coast controversy which has pushed Lance Armstrong to Page 2.
A comment board is one place for the Airing of Grievances, but such arenas are fraught with name-calling, specious reasoning, circular logic and a lack of concise, biting sarcasm.

Besides, the only purpose that a comment board serves is to raise more questions, usually more serious questions such as:
1) "Who's really telling the truth?"
2) "Was Te'o lonely and not in the mood to phone Lava Links?"
3) "Is he gay?" ("Am I?" ... "Are you?")
4) "Is this hoax a desperate tactic of misdirection aimed at diverting our attention from the fact that Te'o wore a strand of ivy to the Heisman Trophy ceremony?"
5) "Would not Marcus Mariota have been a better Hawaiian Heisman Hopeful, given the fact that he might actually be a better freshman QB than Johnny Football -- and given the fact that, if they switched teams, Marcus Mariota might've run the A&M offense better than Manziel would run the Quack Attack offense?" (just sayin' ... )
6) "Can we now finally conclude that, as a person, Manti Te'o is a wee bit dense ... and that, as a linebacker, he was mite overrated (and, therefore, we don't have to re-structure our coll.-FB linebacking pantheon and rank him with the greats we've seen during the past 40 yrs., which computes to the likes of Lawrence Taylor, Brian Bosworth, Derrick Brooks, Mike Singletary, Trev Alberts, Marvin Jones, Chris Spielman and who's missing?)
7) "What the hell ever happened to the Te'o that I remember from my childhood -- Sanmuh Te'o?"

The fallout from this perp-vs.-vic scenario is depressing, especially since it involved a Tuiasosopo-on-Te'o dynamic in a disturbing Tongan genre.
You'd never see a Tatupu-on-Tuipulotu crime in the Tongan/Samoan genre, but, apparently, this is what happens when a d*mbshit sits down at the computer and gets palsy-walsy on Facebook/Twitter/whichever with somebody he's never met instead of getting "spiritual" with actual flesh-and-blood in his own neighborhood.
It's probably a good thing that Manti didn't open an e-mail from somebody who claimed to be King Kamehameha or this controversy would be twice the shitst*rm it is now.

* [Sidebar, Your Honour: Everybody remembers the first time they met a Samoan/Tongan ... when he/she was confusing USC's Mosi Tatupu for UCLA's Manu Tuiasosopo right about the time that California Angels first baseman Tony Solaita was establishing himself as the first Samoan in the bigs ... which was a few years before any of us would see Cheyenne Tuufuli in the San Jose State dining commons and wonder if his sacking of QB Samoa Samoa of Washington State (the school which gave us "The Throwin' Samoan") would be well-received in the island nations which are only approx. 600 miles apart in the South Pacific, yet are divided by the International Date Line, meaning that when it's time for a 1 o'clock lunch on a Tuesday in Samoa, they're just finishing their lunch and it's back to the 1 o'clock shift at the factory on a Wednesday in Tonga -- which means that every Tongan can taunt a Samoan with, "You are soooooo yesterday's news!" ... which may not matter to everybody's all-time favourite Hawaiian QB (Kaipo-Noa Kaheaku-Enhada) or to everybody's all-time favourite Samoan RB (Chris Fuamatu-Ma'afala), I dunno ... ]

That was a mighty long sidebar ... almost as long as it takes for Manti Te'o to give non-answers about his non-existent girlfriend.
Where it all went wrong for the overrated LB for 2012's most-overrated team was that he wasn't tipped off by that totally-made-up name: "Lennay Kekua."
It''d be different if her name was "Kila Ka'aihue" -- except that Kila Ka'aihue is the Kansas City Royals washout who got some ABs w/ the A's last year.

Y'see, when it comes to fictitious names, it's a lot easier to be duped by a chick named "Leilani Kahlua-Kahlua."
That's a personal favourite because a former co-worker/friend of mine said that she always loved the name "Leilani" ... and "Kahlua" kinda sorta looks like somebody's last name when the bottle is in your hand and your thumb is covering the last two letters on the label.

I never banged my Leilani (who had a rockin' bod and a quasi-exotic-Polynesian-like look even though she was from Hackensack of all places, BTW), although I told all my friends that I did.
That is, if I had any friends.
Then or now ...

So, when nobody asks me about my relationship with any of the members of my wrecking crew -- be it Arch Stanton, Rolo Tomassi, Henry Krinkle, Randall Stevens, Larry Dickman, John Coctosetoy, Vince Clortho, Jerry Callo, Mitch Kumsteen and Joey JoJo Junior Shabadeaux, I can explain their existence a lot better than Te'o pieced together the non-existence of an admirer who was the product of some tag-team flim-flammery which, from what it sounds like, was so junior-varsity in its conception and execution.
Which doesn't say a lot about that top-notch cirriculum in ol' South Bend.
Because Manti definitely flunked Dumbshit Avoidance 101 ...

The problem w/ Te'o was that he dived headlong into the worst scenario possible: "Real-Life Moments With Fabricated Characters."
It NEEDS to be the other way around: "Make-Believe Moments With Actual People."
Doing it the first way leads to Google searches, Yahoo searches, Bing searches ... and then America comes to learn that Leilani Kahlua-Kahlua doesn't exist.
Game over ...

However, the second option is loads more fun -- and practically only-partially researchable.
Example: "I didn't take (_______) to Homecoming, but I asked her out a week later and did her in the back set of my car. Suuuuu-weet."
Who's gonna disprove it? Associates from that era can tell ya that (________) definitely existed, but they don't know details.
And, if they ever did re-construct part of the past, they'll never fill in the blanks.
'Cuz it falls under the heading of "plausible deniability."
Which is covered by he-said/she-said statutes ...

"I did a lot of heroin in college and I beat the crap out of a homeless dude when I was dopesick and Jonesing for a fix real bad."

"I have in my possession the Purple Heart and the Silver Star that my dad earned during the Korean War."
Where are they? Can we see them? the neighbors asked.
"They were lost during that bad flood six years ago ... "

"I attended Super Bowl XXX."

"I sank the winning bucket twice in college games which led us to the championship." (Actually, one was a halfcourt shot -- baseball pass -- at the halftime whistle in a game which we were losing by 20 ... the other was a halfcourt shot -- 2-handed chest pass -- at the end of a game which we were probably losing by 25 ... for an intramural team which, I believe, went 0-8)

"After a hearty session of grinding with The Blonde from something like midnight 'til 2 a.m., she went home and then my brief zzzzzz session was halted when The Brunette who was tryin' semi-desperately to remain The Girlfriend stopped by at 7 a.m. on her way to work for "a quickie."
(Wait ... that one really did happen)

Those are the types of stories I usually share with my buddies, a 10-member posse which possesses an almost-as-interesting array of backstories which would impress the panties off of Lennay Kekua.
They're all well-known without being "too" renowned.
The thumbnails read as such:

Arch Stanton, as we all know, resides, as it were, next to Unknown and he was the key to Blondie and Tuco Benedicto Pacifico Juan Maria Ramirez locating and unearthing the $200,000 in Confederate gold coins.
"There are two kinds of people in the world ... those with loaded guns and those who dig.
"You dig ... "
Rolo Tomassi has lived in infamy as the purse snatcher who killed Preston Exley, the father of Lt. Edmund Exley -- and, in case it slipped your mind, Rolo Tomassi is "the one who gets away with it."
Henry Krinkle of 345 Hopper Avenue in Fair Lawn, New Jersey is the guy who asked the Secret Service agent if he actually was a Secret Service agent.
And he did so by asking, "You a Secret Service agent?"
"Just waiting for the Senator ... "
Henry Krinkle of 345 Hopper Avenue's response was: "That's a very good answer. Shitttttt ... I'm just waitin' for the sun to shine."
(We never did learn if there actually was a Hopper Avenue, did we?)
Randall Stevens is the silent silent partner. He's the guilty one, Your Honour -- and Warden Norton's dirty money is in several accounts in Randall Stevens' name in banks near Shawshank.
Larry Dickman ... y'gotta love that guy. He was strolling down the sidewalk wearing a SF Giants cap and eatin' a green apple as he approached the massage parlor in search of that girl named Wanda when he tossed the uneaten portion of the apple into the gutter (maybe ... we definitely know that he DIDN'T toss it into a nearby trash receptacle) and entered the building -- and that was before Wanda, a member of Bobby Maxwell's gang, put a gun to the head of the bridge operator during the kidnapping of the mayor moments he'd departed Candleshit Park in the limo and remarked to his asst. Jimmy, "I wish we could've stayed. Looks like the Giants are finally going to win one."
Jimmy: "Oh, I don't know, sir. It looks like it's going to be a no-hitter."
(Greatest moment EVER in a SF Giants scenario -- that is, until Gil Rennard was wearing his SF Giants cap as he was driving his son to Opening Day as the Stones' "Start Me Up" was blaring ... and the kid said to Dad, "Jason Pelligrini says Mick Jagger is gay" -- to which Gil growled: "Jason Pelligrini's dad takes it up the ass!"

Meanwhile, everybody's remembers when John Cock ... tose ... toy first approached Gail Stanwyck on the tennis court and introduced himself with that unusual name. "It's a beautiful name," Gail Stanwyck told him. "It's Scotch-Romanian," John said ... prompting Gail Stanwyck to remark, "That's an odd combination."
"So are my parents."
Everybody thinks his name is "Coctosen," but that ain't what he said to Gail ...
Oh, and Vince Clortho? He's classic ... especially when he was occupying Louis Tully's body as he searched  for Gozer The Gozarian ...
BTW, Jerry Callo is NOT Jerry Gallo as he initially told Judge Chamberlain Haller. Jerry Gallo is dead, so Jerry Callo might actually be Vincent Gambini, who is not Vince Clortho ...
For the record, Mitch Kumsteen was expelled for night-putting with the dean's daughter (status: winner!).
Joey JoJo Junior Shabadeaux is the friend of a friend.
Moe at Moe's Tavern shook his head: "That's the worst name I've ever heard ... "

It's important for me to remember their names and to rehearse their back stories ... just in case Jeremy Schaap or Katie Couric shows up and tosses softballs at me.
If only Manti Te'o had an Arch Stanton or a Rolo Tomassi or a Vince Clortho, maybe his story wouldn't sound my (imaginary) friends, he wouldn't've found it necessary to make-believe with a lover who didn't exist.
Maybe he should've told Leilani Kahlua-Kahlua that his real name was Tony Lerma.
Tony Lerma, in case you've forgotten, was the name on the list during the only 10 minutes I've ever watched of "Castle."
It's the episode "47 Seconds," as any ol' Arch Stanton will tell ya ... and the name of the prime bomber suspect (a character named Andrew Harrison, in case it matters) appeared on that computer printout list ... one line above the name of Tony Lerma.
The only reason that matters is because that 10 minutes which I wasted on "Castle" occurred on the Saturday night 24 hrs. before the close of the London Olympics. On another network less than an hour earlier, the lead character (Clyde Shelton) was a law-abiding citizen who forged a fake I.D. in order to pose as a janitor to plant a bomb.
The name on the I.D.?
Tony Lerma!!!

So many options -- yet, Manti played it all wrong ... from the two dozen white roses to the strand of ivy 'round his neck at the Heisman presentation.
If only he'd remembered that the hnadbook for how to handle such matters is The Three S's -- "Simpsons," "Scott/Schrute/Scranton," "Seinfeld."
All of life's answers are contained within.
It never fails ...

Like the time when Timmy O'Toole fell down the well and a shirtless Sting led the rescue effort.
Except there was no Timmy O'Toole ... and he wasn't prohibited by Principal Skinner from attending elementary school "because of my shabby clothes."

Then, there was the time when Michael tried to reconcile his grief re: the death of Ed Truck ... and in the conference room, Pam provided comfort with the story of her aunt who was a really great boxer, but then she was in a coma and there was some issue about taking her off life-support ... a particularly-poignant moment, much moreso than when Michael and Dwight visited the grave of the recently-departed chair-model gal who they didn't know ...

But, those anecdotes were was nuthin' compared to the time when Peggy thought that Elaine was Susie ("not Sooz ... it's Sooo-zeeee!"), so Elaine uncomplicated her life (so she thought) by informing Mr. Peterman that Susie had taken her own life last night ... but, holy crap, that was a packed house for the memorial service, wasn't it?
Mr. Peterman captured the spirit of the day by telling the crowd of mourners that, when working late on the catalog one night, he and Suzie surrendered to temptation ... "and it was pritttt-teee good."
Jerry (turning to Peggy): "Yeah, but he didn't sleep with both of them." (wink)
I'm catchin' yer drift, Jer ...

There was no Timmy O'Toole ... there was no 3-D chair-model gal ... there was no Susie.
Tony Lerma, though ... he's very real.
"Just remember, Jerry. It's not a lie ... if YOU believe it."

Since Manti Te'o will continue to look like the world's biggest sucker/doofus/simpleton with each interview he gives (that "spiritual" angle and the "impacting people's lives" mantra rings hollow when he's not visiting the cancer kids ward at the nearest hospital or when he's not providing us with autographed footballs which we can put up for sale on eBay 15 minutes later), he could play the Curse of Jersey Number 5 angle and ask us to leave him alone.
For those who cannot remember, #5 is the Irish jersey number which was jinxed by the football gods ever since Paul Hornung undeservedly won the Heisman for a 2-win team.
I'd say, "Ask #5 Rodney Culver ... " (backfield teammate of Mirer and Bettis), but he died in that JetBlue crash in the Florida Everglades back in '96 when he was only 26.
I'd say, "Ask #5 Blair Kiel ... " -- (uncle of Gunnar Kiel) but he died at age 50 a few months before Lennay Kekua's fake death.
There's no other choice -- except to ask #5 Terry Hanratty.

But, not now -- because the dying words of Bill Carson were "Arch Stanton" ... and the dying words of Det. Jack Vincennes were "Rolo Tomassi" and now I've gotta go check it out and see if there's a connection.
Or if Bill Carson and Jack Vincennes faked their own deaths.
Which is the popular thing to do nowadays ...



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