Monday, March 16, 2009
Jay Maus, comedian, solitary voice of a generation, enjoys unfair criticism, playa hatin’, Colecovision
OK, the Jayhwaks totally blew it against Baylor last week. Do they continue to deserve our respect? Are we looking at a team of washed up 18-21 year olds who have nothing more to contribute to society and may as well be taken to the Meow Mix factory?
“Oh, absolutely not—that's ridiculous. I'm given to understand that the good folks at Purina wouldn't allow the 2008-09 Kansas Jayhawks to be machine separated and dried into cat food—their quality standards are too high. It's more likely they'll be taken to the dingy Wyoming basement where they make Kroger Value Brand Alimento Para Gatos.”
What advice do you have for those who feel besieged every March by this mass hysteria? Are there any strategies, much as though in a zombie film, to survive this crimson and blue plague?
“If you are approached by a crowd of fanatics, wild-eyed and comprised of inebriants, you only have but one option—wave your arms and incant the arcane phrase "ROK-CHOK-JE-HOK" to lull them into identifying you as friend. Careful, though, because these magickal words are incredibly powerful and will allow Coach He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to know your secrets.”
Do you plan on filling out a bracket? If so, will spite be your primary predictor?
“My primary predictor is always intelligence gathered by using a time machine I built after watching ‘Time Changer,’ the greatest film of these end times. The only problem is that the machine can only go to an alternate timeline where college basketball more resembles professional wrestling. It's usually pretty accurate—for example, this year saw the Kansas J-HWKZ defeated by the Baylor Oh-No-You-Dih-Ents.”
If you were an arch-fiend, what elaborate scheme would you devise to sabotage the Jayhawks in the NCAA Tournament?
“‘If’? ‘Would’? Well played, Laessig, well played. Let it be reflected in the press that ‘if’ I were an arch-fiend, I ‘would’ force the biggest wigs in the NCAA to move the three-point line back, thus angering the usually doltish poltergeist of James Naismith. I would then make myself known to the specter by firing a league standard basketball gun in the air four times. Using a ghost hypnotizing technique I learned in Haiti, I would theoretically transfer the restless spirit into a sort of homunculus made of bacon grease. I'd make the James Naismith bacon grease homunculus go to Ace Hardware and buy a hammer, which I would then use to severely injure all four of the Morris triplets.”
On the flip side, are the prospects of rioting in Lawrence—if we were to win the championship—reason enough to grudgingly back KU? Plan on any looting?
“Man, I've seen things—things you wouldn't believe. Massachusetts Street, thronged with the living drunk, police officers powerless to stop the open containers and woo-shouters, constant sweaty high-fives rendering all palms calloused and scarlet. A man climbs the easily scalable Replay Lounge, figuratively shitting himself in the vicarious glee of having watched dudes who live five blocks from him win a sports match on the tee-vee, literally shitting himself in the strain of steadying a PBR while hefting a ham hock over the top edge of the roof. Titties flash like laser beams, double-barrel death ray battles waged from street corner to street corner by bead-thirsty Valkyries perched atop shoulders behind massive under-bites with no regard for the carnage wrought upon the mad crowd in the crossfire. The chaos—this chaos—is, indeed, an excellent mask for looting. Last year, I stole eight tattoos from a certain parlor whose locks were no match for a mailbox through the window.”
What do you hate most about KU basketball?
“Yeah, why can't those idiots spell ‘fog’? That bugs the hell out of me.”