Posts Tagged ‘sports’

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Escape Pod 969: Code Switching (Part 4 of 4)


Code Switching (Part 4 of 4)

By Malon Edwards

(…continued from Part 3)

  1. THIS IS THE TRUTELL

MICHAËLLE-ANNABELLE FEAT. JEAN-MICHEL

 

I strap into my rig, take a really big swig from my hydration dispenser tube I call The Ultra Black Vig, and settle back to begin this all-night white-hat gig.

At first, I decide to do this like the Stig, but instead I shake awake my lightbox, pull on my knee-high fuzzy socks, and momentarily disable my sigTell locks. This is my double-dog dare for Saffron Sutton to try and hack this whitefox. She and I have been doing this since the first day of SSI hacker sprints, which always takes place on the vernal equinox. Usually, I tell her she better kick rocks because my sigTell is damn well capable of delivering emotional shocks along her TruTell stalks all the way back to those frilly frocks she designs and thoroughly maligns (although, she would say signs) with a matte black gingham fox.

Now, watch me as I disregard all the clocks and enter the susso-sphere where the only thing I see is multicolored sigTell stalks everywhere. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 968: Code Switching (Part 3 of 4)


Code Switching (Part 3 of 4)

By Malon Edwards

(…Continued from Part 2)

 

  1. A SWEET-ASS HELICOPTER AND TEN STATER STRANGERS?

JEAN-MICHEL FEAT. THE NAUGHTY NINETY-DAY FANDANGO

 

I’m feelin’ this Bell 525 Relentless like Ellen Gilchrist playin’ bid whist wit her redheaded MILF temptress. She’s a proper drawers dropper chopper wit no love for the paupers. Her black chrome exterior makes me want to chill in her eighty-eight-square-foot cabin interior until homo erectus becomes superior.

And I’m not the only one.

Sittin’ wit me are ten Stater strangers who fear no danger because of the two exo-fighters flankin’ us as we drink an’ cuss, comforted by their protection against the Sovereign State of Chicago’s skanky trust.

Listen to me. Talkin’ like how a real Stater must.

Three of these girls might be smilin’ true, but on their faces you can see fear of Electric Resurrection, too. It’s a look all eleven of us have, but we play it cool—or at least try to appear to. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 967: Code Switching (Part 2 of 4)


Code Switching (Part 2 of 4)

By Malon Edwards

(…Continued from Part 1)

  1. ONE HUNDRED PERCENT PERFORMANCE OUTPUT

JEAN-MICHEL FEAT. KINSLEY CHASE

 

Lòske jounalis sa yo gade m—

Hold up. Let me say that again. I’ll wait. Y’all go grab y’alls paper an’ pen.

When these Stater journos look at me, they don’t juss see a Black boy. Nah, they also see a bio-electric, battery-operated toy, part of a Stanford Sutton Industries ploy to bring fat cat football alums joy.

(Wit money. Anpil, anpil lajan.)

An’ that pisses them off. So they gon’ keep rushin’ off an’ bustin’ off these queries at a machine-gun pace in my face while smirkin’ at my Haitian Creole vocabulary, pretendin’ they can only understand me, barely, ’cause my accent is too thick an’ scary.

Pakont—but on the flip side—them Chicago reporters gon’ give me the benefit of the doubt (that’s right) when they write they stories witout bias tonight. They embrace a sovereign state that thrives on a black market sparked by innovation an’ encouraged by a Haitian who planned a nation for secession from a State of Imperfection, then made Chicago the greatest an’ said to hell wit those Stater racists.

Like the ones in front of me now. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 966: Code Switching (Part 1 of 4)


Code Switching (Part 1 of 4)

By Malon Edwards

INTRO: ALL I’M EVER GON’ DO IS STAY BLACK AND DIE

JEAN-MICHEL FEAT. KINSLEY CHASE

Kinsley Chase sits on manman mwen plastic-covered couch. The InTell HumbleBrag subprogram Stanford Sutton Industries chipped me with says she’s wearing a circa 2020 Theresa Frostad Eggesbø Resurrection skinload.

I had no idea this shit actually worked. I don’t HumbleBrag. I thought it was all about narcissism and went in one direction, so I said fuck that shit.

But Kinsley Chase HumbleBraggin’ ’bout how unique (meanin’ how expensive) her skinload is makes sense. These days, pourin’ honey like that into some poor Black people’s ear can be an effective war propaganda tool. We all know both the State of Illinois and the Sovereign State of Chicago recruitin’.

Too bad I don’t like siwo. Or lagè.

‘Sides, manman mwen and I don’t need no tools. We juss need to pay our bills. (Continue Reading…)

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Escape Pod 730: When We Were Patched


When We Were Patched

by Deji Bryce Olukotun

The last time we ever spoke, my partner Malik asked me whether I believed speed or power made for the best athlete. I was puzzled, of course, feeling that neither could explain why some athletes excelled more than others, even in straightforward competitions like sprinting or the javelin. “There are enough variables to make it unclear,” I observed, “whether speed or power offers a better advantage in competition, or whether some other factor confers the greatest advantage.” It seemed to me an unanswerable question.

“And how about elegance versus quickness of thought?” Malik asked. But he stormed off before I could respond, as if he had confirmed some awful quality about me. By then I should have known not to expect anything from Malik, because he was about to ruin my career.

​You see, I come from an illustrious line of sports officiants, spanning the world’s most dynamic and lucrative competitions, and I think my family would agree that my treatment by the FogoTennis Officiants Association was abominable. I should never have been suspended because of dishonorable behavior on Malik’s part.

​Like many referees, I remember the very instant I was called for the first time to officiate on the professional FogoTennis circuit, widely considered the most exciting and dangerous sport in the world. I had honed my skills by watching my parents officiate before me, and by observing my siblings, cousins, and extended family. You could say that I was an officiant from the day I was born. Not only did I learn from other matches, but I also visualized countless scenarios of FogoTennis so that I could fulfill my duties to the best of my ability, cementing my family’s reputation as impartial, efficient, and affordable judges. But there is a difference between officiating in theory—even when it is woven into your very soul—and officiating in reality, when you can find yourself with an irresponsible refereeing partner.

(Continue Reading…)

Escape Pod 318: The Prize Beyond Gold


The Prize Beyond Gold

By Ian Creasey

Three days before the race, when Delroy had finished warming down from a training run, his coach summoned him for a talk. Delroy could tell it was something big. Michito’s job — assisted by his Enhanced empathy — was to become exquisitely sensitive to his athlete’s mood, so as to help get the best out of him. The attunement sometimes became mutual, and Delroy now discerned a rare eagerness in Michito’s almost-natural face.

“The weather forecast for race day has reached certainty,” said Michito. “Temperature: perfect. Humidity: perfect. Wind speed: just below the permissible maximum. Wind direction –”

“Perfect?” said Delroy.

“Behind you all the way.” Michito grinned in delight. “It’s the final star in the constellation. You’re in great shape, the weather will be ideal, we’re two thousand metres above sea level” — Michito made a sweeping gesture, encompassing the many other factors affecting performance — “and it all adds up to one thing.”

“I’m going to win?” Delroy didn’t understand Michito’s glee: the weather would be the same for all the runners. (Continue Reading…)

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