Long Time… Gone

I have been a fan of Formula One racing since my early teens, which makes me older than just about everyone involved in running F1 today.

Just recently, I had a problem with my AppleTV account and couldn’t change the payment method — no need for details, but it’s a fucking nightmare and would be easier if I just created a new account.  Why am I subscribing to AppleTV, you ask?  Well, late last year F1 told me that their own website (F1.com) would no longer be streaming races because they’d sold the broadcast rights to AppleTV.  Fair enough:  it’s their absolute right to do so, and the AppleTV sub was actually cheaper than the F1 sub;  so that, coupled with my desire to watch the Slow Horses TV series (read the books, loved them), I made the change even though once I’d watched all the episodes, I found that AppleTV doesn’t have much worth watching anyway.  But there was always the F1 racing, which (did I already mention? I’ve loved since my early teens) so what the hell.

Of course, the modern F1 is no longer the F1 I used to love.  Gone were the earsplitting roar and howls of V6- and V12 car engines, and in their place came hybrid engines, using pathetic little 1500cc turbo motors with laptop batteries to “boost” performance because Green Is Mighty and Internal Combustion Engines Are Evil, or some such nonsense.

Then this season saw new rules (a.k.a. the “formula” in the product description), which made the cars even MOAR BATTERY, except of course that batteries when used to propel cars at 300mph run out of spark within yards not miles, so we were greeted with the spectacle of the world’s finest drivers and the world’s most accomplished engineers becoming software managers.  Put in plain terms, cars would overtake other cars, and then immediately lose their position because their batteries were drained whilst their competitors had recharged theirs so could take back the position:  repeat ad nauseam.  Not only was the spectacle unsatisfying, it became outright dangerous, as was seen in the last race where a driver with a full battery was about to move to overtake, but the car in front suddenly lost 25mph because his battery had just gone flat.  At a closing speed of 275mph, no human reactions are quick enough to address that impending crash — but amazingly, young Ollie Bearman’s were almost that quick and he pulled off the track to avoid a massive collision.  Unfortunately, his car’s battery was still in flat-out mode, and Bearman hit the barrier head-on with a force of 50 Gs.  How he survived is a miracle;  how his electric motor didn’t catch fire and turn him extra-crispy is a credit to the engineers who built the car.  Nor did his car crumple like a newspaper and turn his skeleton into soup.

Of course, the F1 organization recognized all this for the disaster it is, and have hurriedly put through a massive rules change.  They were fortunate in that next two Grand Prix races in Saudi Arabian peninsula had been canceled because Trump’s merry war on Iran had resulted in the latter sending missiles raining on the Gulf states — and nobody wanted to see battery-powered race cars having to take action to avoid incoming SCUDs, let alone their competitors’ cars, and F1 audiences in the stands deciding that watching electric go-karts play swapalongs would not be sufficient spectacle to keep them from being turned into hamburger by the aforementioned missiles.  So F1 caught a break, and having three weeks before the next race (Miami GP), changed a whole bunch of rules, making the thing even more complex than before.  (Please watch this video — it’s less than ten minutes long — to see the absolute clusterfuck that F1 racing has become.)

Why am I telling you all this?  Because after sixty-odd years of F1 fandom, I’ve decided that enough is enough.  I’m not interested in watching what F1 has become, I don’t like what F1’s owners, the foul Liberty Media, have created — four races in the Saudi Peninsula?  WTF? — and even worse, losing various countries’ Grand Prix races because European organizers can’t match those of the oil-rich Arabs.  I mean, the entire Grand Prix concept began in France, and there’s no room on the calendar for a French GP?  WTFF?

So I’m walking away.  I would say that I’ll content myself by watching the “highlights” videos on EeewChoob, but honestly, I don’t think there will be any highlights worth watching, anymore.

Here’s a thought:  throw away the stupid hybrid engines and go back to racing with real engines, the aforementioned V6 and V8 monsters, let the drivers race these cars to the utmost limit of mechanical and human performance, and make F1 watchable again.  Like it was in, say, 1975.  (And yes I know, the cars were deathtraps.  I’m not suggesting throwing out the entire car, just the stupid engines.)

I know, I know:  “You can’t stop progress, Kim;  you can’t go back to the old ways.”

And don’t suggest I try to follow other motor racing types, either.  Once you’ve watched Formula 1, all other car types resemble tortoises and hippos racing.  Even Le Mans, which I watch every year, all 24 hours at a time if there’s no highlights video, doesn’t begin to compare.

I think I’ll start watching horse racing instead.  That is, until Liberty Media buys them out, makes the owners strap rockets to their horses’ asses “to improve the spectacle”, and gets fifty racing tracks built in Saudi Arabia to host the new F1 Horse Racing Circuit, doing away with Belmont, Saratoga, Aintree and Epson in the process.

And speaking of horses’ asses:  so long, F1/Liberty Media — and AppleTV.  Neither of you is worth the trouble of supporting anymore.

So Much For That Trend

People have been moaning recently about how Gen Z kids aren’t having sex anymore, also seeming to prefer hanging out on porn websites or (worse) relying on A.I.-created partners for their jollies.

Well as it turns out, that’s apparently not true for all Gen Z kids:

The village where Winter Olympics athletes are staying in Milan has reportedly run out of condoms after slashing its supply from 300,000 to a mere 10,000.

I would have thought that the condom needs for just the Swedish Olympians would have emptied [sic]  that supply — the Swedes (Winter and Summer) being generally regarded as the most prolific users thereof — but hey, I guess the Olympics Committee was trying to save money or something.

I guess it’s also quite telling that these kids felt they could rely on “government” to take care of their every need.  (Without any proof, though, I’m pretty sure that most of the American kids brought their own supplies of said items with them — I know I would have, under such circumstances.)

And just to head one argument off at the pass, let’s at least acknowledge that when you throw a group of superbly-fit youngsters from all over the world together into confined quarters, they’re going to go at it like rabbits.  (And the organizers need to be kicked in the ass for thinking that these young Olympians were going to be any different from previous athletes.)

No need to spend time at PornHub or ai.com when you can have easy access to real-life willing bodies, after all.

Worshipping Laundry

In earlier times (i.e. last week), this bit of news might have made the files:

The Athletics, formerly of Oakland, are all excited about their impending move to Las Vegas. But they may have to change their name before they go there.

The U.S. Patent and Trademark Office denied multiple requests from the A’s for the names “Las Vegas Athletics” and “Vegas Athletics.” The requested trademarks were denied on the grounds the names were “too generic.”

As reporter Josh Gerben writes, “According to the USPTO, the dominant portion of each mark refers to a well-known geographic location (Las Vegas) while the remaining wording, ‘Athletics,’ lacks distinctiveness as applied to the goods and services identified in the applications.

“The examining attorney noted that ‘athletics’ is defined as ‘activities such as sports, exercises, and games that require physical skill and stamina,’ and concluded that the term directly describes ‘the purpose and feature of the applicant’s goods and services.’ As a result, the USPTO found that the marks merely describe a professional sports team located in Las Vegas rather than functioning as unique indicators of source.”

And then you can just fall asleep, assuming you haven’t already done so.

My take:

Back in the day, a sports team’s ethos was all bound up with their ties to their hometown and its fans.  Now?  It really doesn’t matter, because all the hoopla about the “storied franchises” and associated bollocks is tinsel on a dying tree.

As long as a team stuck with what made them unique — e.g. the Pittsburgh Steelers, a name which tied the team both to the city and to the industry which gave the place their ethos (not to mention that the name is kick-ass good) — then there was something to be said for the “brand”.

But if tomorrow the Steelers were decide to move to Shreveport LA, thus giving up everything — the city, their fans, the players, the history — that made them what they are, then why should they try to cling to the Steelers name?  Because without all the other stuff, all they are is, as Jerry Seinfeld so wonderfully put it once in an excellent rant, laundry.

Nowadays, very few players are associated with teams either, because instead of the players choosing loyalty to the team and the city which made them famous, they swap teams (or are traded) to the point where you need to look at their resume just to track their career path.  (Baseball management, by the way, has pretty much made a business out of treating players like disposable resources, and the players have responded in kind by treating each team as nothing more than a meal ticket, so I have little time for either teams or players and their problems.)

And thus with the Oakland As (not “A’s”, FFS), who once represented the city and neighborhood as the gritty working-class underdogs they always were.  So they want to leave Oakland and go play their little game in Las Vegas, but keep their nickname?  Hell, as I see it, the “generic” quality of their desired name(s) actually suits them just fine, because when they decide to quit Las Vegas for Tallahassee or whatever, they can just take their meaningless name with them.

Nailbiting

I know:  most of y’all have about as much interest in Formula One as I do about soap operas.

However:  the last race of the 2025 F1 season will take place this weekend on some track in the Arabian desert #DontCare, and it promises to be quite unlike the usual formation-lap snore fest.

At the middle of the season, current (and four-time) champion Max Verstappen was 100-odd points adrift of the top of the standings, driving a car which was not in the same class as the eventual manufacturer’s champions McLaren (who clinched the title a couple races back).

Thanks to his incredible skill behind the wheel, and aided by said McLaren team totally screwing up their race strategy in the past two races, Verstappen finds himself in actual contention for his fifth (consecutive!) driver’s championship in the final race.  He’ll need some help from McLaren, of course, but given their recent screwups that’s not completely out of the picture — and as both McLaren drivers are 1-2 in the standings and are after the same title, there’s also a good chance that they’ll collide with each other and take themselves out of the picture, leaving it all to Verstappen.  One thing is for sure:  if it’s just up to his own driving, he’s an odds-on favorite

Anyway, I told you all that so I can share this, said before the Las Vegas Grand Prix:

Me, I’m rooting for Max this weekend.

Quote Of The Day

From the statuesque Bryony Gordon at the Daily Mail, talking about padel:

“The game has always struck me as tennis for those who can’t be bothered to learn tennis, but given our dwindling attention spans, it’s probably the perfect sport for our age.”

I always thought it was a cross between tennis (court and scoring system ), squash (playing off the walls) and table tennis (the bats).

It’s also gentler, takes up less space, and doesn’t require as much exertion as tennis or squash.  It really is the perfect non-sport for our silly age — which means it’s soon going to become an Olympic event.  (#SynchronizedSwimming)

“yeah, but why do you call Bryony Gordon ‘statuesque’, Kim?”

Finally!

…as Alert Reader Danny P. tells me:

…and as we all know, when Vegas starts up a little action, it’s officially a Thing.

I know it’s a little too soon to base tradition upon something that has only occurred twice (so far), but I’m hoping that the lime-green dildo becomes a feature, a trademark if you will, of this most excellent institution.

Of course, the Woke / Perpetually Indignant / WNBA [much redundancy]  will do their best to stamp this out — think:  Dildo-Tosser Cam — which makes this whole thing so much the more amusing.


Afterthought:  Reader Danny wants me to assure everyone that he is not fixated on dildos — not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course — but there it is nevertheless.