The Clog

Our latest installment of spam-inspired poetry deals with the problem of New York City's Penn Station, and offers a frankly unconvincing solution.

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We interrupt our scheduled non-programming with an urgent message from E-40, who would like to remind you to vote.

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We're darkening and slowing things down until July 9, but not because we don't love our readers or anything. It's just... well, it's really muggy, and it seemed like a good time for a brief break.

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Dontrelle Willis retires from baseball. But is that really the right way to think about his career, and the way it ended?

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Andy Griffith's breakout as an entertainer came via a monologue about a country preacher at a football game. It feels about 200 years old today, but for Griffith—who died today at 86—seeming of-the-moment was never a big part of the game.

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A photograph of Shaquille O'Neal in a stupid wig on the set of an Adam Sandler sequel, and the poetry it inspired.

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#MULTIPLE#

Notes from the annual Steve Nash Foundation Showdown game, where NBA players and sports journos alike are tolerated by world-class soccer players. All for the good of the kids.

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Our most recent installment in the Spam Poetics series relates to material privilege and bikini operation. And, as ever, to the power of absolute nonsense.

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Ever wonder what do Carmelo Anthony, Lowell from Wings and Paris Hilton have in common? You get one guess, and then you just have to read this find out. No peeking!

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Today's spam poesy is perhaps the most ambitious entry in the field yet: a simultaneous inversion of and tribute to an especially avant-garde Oakley-spamming comment, repurposed here into a tribute to Classical favorites and official minor league soccer team, The Baltimore Bohemians. You're crazy for this one, Logan K. Young.

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