Oh boy.

by Pete, Wednesday, July 09, 2014, 12:58 (4284 days ago) @ Jay

There's a story that goes back into the decades, a faded tale that lingers on the human psyche like the sunlight-soaked corner of a long-forgotten cottage curtain. Four men, not soldiers of the apocalypse, but warriors battling against it, against its ghoulish army, slimy and scary and spooky.

Ghostbusters.

They wore brown jumpsuits in the City that Never Sleeps, the Big Apple spilling forth with post-life worms. They battle the world's demons, healing the planet's wounds, Ecto-1 their chariot against purgatory's barbarians.

On a sweltering Tallahassee afternoon, the down-South sweat that makes a man feel alive and dead all at once, there was a new Winston exorcising ghosts. Jameis Winston, not a literal descendent of Winston Zedmore but surely a spiritual one, turned his arm into a veritable proton pack, ripping apart a team whose lifeline is the ghastly afterlife, whose fields is the grass of a cemetery made alight by countless candles offered up to spirits and saints in the Grotto.

"I ain't afraid of no Irish," said Winston.

Total protonic reversal.

Tags:
potpourri