Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Burning Questions

Why is the sky blue? How many monkeys locked in a room of typewriters would it take to create the past 3 months worth of Dalembert Report output? If a lonely, bored man with a weiner dog fetish repeatedly makes comments into the ether and there's no one there to read them, did they really happen?

More pressingly: where is Sammy D, and is he available to close for the Phillies?

As the dog days of summer fade into autumn and as our Fightin's careen haphazardly towards the postseason, it seems as though the time is ripe for a DR resurgence. After all, there's much to be discussed. And it will be discussed, at length, and soon. But to try and tackle everything at once is to risk ending up like Mr. Creosote, with our tuxedo in tatters and the contents of our stomach splattered far and wide. So instead, let's focus on a bit of news that's both alarming and exciting: Sammy D's Center City condo is up for sale!?

Before we get to the possible ramifications of this development, I think it's important that we recognize that Sammy chose to buy his condo in a building that is not only across the street from Central Bookings but also from the city's largest sand castle. Was Sammy fearing that the Sixers might frame him for heinous crimes crime so as to get out from under his contract, or did he just want access to a very big sand box? I'm guessing the latter, but as always with Sammy the reasoning behind his actions remains inscrutable.

In any case, since this huge story has been ignored by the mainstream media, it falls to us to parse through the clues it affords us. Could it be that Sammy is on his way out of town? There have certainly been rumors of a possible move, and the Haitian one himself even requested a trade earlier in the summer. It's a terrifying thing to contemplate, this potential Dalembert-less existence. If a 7-foot Haitian center goal-tends a shot for another team, do the points even count?

But no; I can't keep asking myself these existential questions. Things fall apart in universe without Dalembert; the Center cannot hold. And so we're forced to consider alternate theories. It falls to you, dear Dalembert readers, to make sense of this news.

- Is Center City too un-hip, and he's trading in his Franklin Square pad for a No-Libs condo?
- Is he worried about housing prices, and simply moving his investments into safer commodities like pork bellies and Florida oranges?
- Was the apartment too small, and the condo rules too stiff to accommodate the menagerie of exotic pets he's brought back from his summer in Haiti?
-Was his internet connection too slow?

I've got no answers my loyal DR friends, all I have are theories and conjectures. But together we can get to the bottom of this mystery. Please enlighten me with your ideas in the comments, and let's never ever break up again.


  1. Although hard to imagine, I have to think that Sammy woke up and smelled the guavas and said to himself "Samuel, fuck do you live in a $400,000 apartment for? You made over $11 MILLION last year!" and with that, he secured himself a place where he can rub shoulders with the city elite: Bon Jovi and Cole Hamels high atop Liberty Two. There is no other explanation.

  2. Home run, Desi Relaford!

    Hallelujah, the DR is risen! "Idn't the loard good?"


    If you don't watch the link, then you are a water free urinal;

    Well, the Phils have stumbled of late; Brad Lidge has shat the mound thus far. However, I believe that "We have the tools! We have the talent!" Cliff Lee is amazing, Cole is turning it on, our offense is generally sick (with the exception of the dreaded men left of base). Still, I am quite excited about our chances, however far on the horizon, however distantly reachable the ultimate dream of repeat glory may be. To drink tall boys on Broad and Pine at 11 AM, under a perfect blue sky, confetti raining down, surrounded by kings, cuzzes, and dogs alike, die hard Phightins fans and fair-weather posers (Jake Beard); seeing the Phanatic's rhythmic pelvic thrusts through the blur of teary eyes, surrounded by all of you and bear hugging the rapping Philies fan (you know who I mean; Flintskins or Big Firm, remind me of his name); picture it; it would be mighty sweet, my friends.

    Birds are starting up. We added a dog murderer to the roster, and have looked anemic on offense in the pre-season, but putting stock in the pre-season is like investing in the "Jump to Conclusions Mat." I don't know who the announcers are for these games, but I think any 2-3 DR staff persons good do a better job. Holy crap, they're really bringin' their B-game. Maybe they should add Sarge to their Broadcast outhouse, just for good measure.

    Sixies and Flyboys: who cares right now.

    Welcome back from the Abyss, DR. "I can see! I have legs! What a happy day! Jesus! Praise Jesus!"

    Nice work, EDG. Enjoyed a of the hyperlinks. That Monty Python scene is one of my favorite scenes ever recorded on film... Well, that, and of course, this one:


    Again, I apologize that my weiner dog-sized brain hasn't yet grasped and adopted Birthday Jawn's suggestions for how to hyperlink.

    Go Phils... And go DR.

  3. I apologize for the typos in the previous post. I am in an allergy haze, on a of of drugs, and, of course, am busy with coaching the A's and defending Uncle Eddie.

  4. Bo, I think it's time you benched Nicola Wybar and Lizzie Taylor and told Vid to stop standing on second base. Go A's!

  5. I definitely need to tell Ginnie Lewis to stop running to third instead of first. I need to tell Pete O'Donnell to stop eating his own dandruff. I need to tell Hank Lopez to eat a fucking sandwich. I need to tell Neil to stop getting socked in the face by other players on our team. I need to get a restraining order barring John Tuton from al the games. I need to tell Danny Van Wert to stop sharing private parts with my daughter and Ruth NA under the slide in the playground, to stop wearing brown cordouroys on the field, and to stop wearing his A's T-shirt 24/7 off the field. Oh yeah... And I definitely need to tell that litte douche on the mound to stop crying every inning.

  6. My theory about Sammy D is that he is moving out to the main line with the Jews.