I watched the Spain/France round of 16 World Cup encounter when i got home from work, albeit on fast forward as i already knew Spain had underachieved in yet another major tournament. Opening goal by David Villa was a straightforward penalty, equalized just before the half on a offside trap-busting run by elephant man Franck Ribery. Skip ahead to late in the second half, with Spanish coach Luis Aragones having gambled and brought on his full complement of subs, including the attack-minded Joaquin, Luis Garcia, and Marcos Senna, in a bid to win the game in regulation. Despite controlling the match, the Spaniards weren't really coming close to putting the ball in the net.

As the scene opens, we find France and Arsenal all-world striker Thierry Henry chasing a ball towards the Spanish goal, although Spain and Barcelona defender Carles Puyol has him beat to it. So what does Henry do? He runs straight into the back of Puyol, and falls over like he's been punched in the face, clutching his head. The ref blows the whistle and awards the Spaniard a yellow card, as Puyol looks on in disbelief. Replays show that although his arm raised slightly to shield Henry off the ball, his elbow came nowhere near the Frenchman's face, and the contact was clearly initiated by Henry. But despite that, the free kick goes to France, and Zinedine Zidane arcs a ball into the box that is met by Patrick Vieira and put in the net. 2-1 France, and Spain can't muster an equalizer in the seven minutes remaining, instead conceding the nail in the coffin on a counterattack by Zidane.

Something about this whole episode really rankles with me. I can't stand Arsenal, or France, but i always appreciated the skill of Thierry Henry. Once upon a time i even imagined him coming to Stamford Bridge. I also considered him a player who played the game the right way, free of referee deception or gamesmanship. But that's all out the window. Maybe he's smarting from Arsenal's Champions League defeat, oddly enough to Puyol and Barcelona. He seems to have evolved into a consummate whiner, having followed in his mentor Arsene Wenger's footsteps and learned to place blame anywhere but on himself.

It's not as if Spain did enough to win the match, clearly they fell short and continued their trend of underachievement. But France and Henry didn't do enough to win either, and can thank a hoodwinked ref for their good fortune. Way to go Henry. I hope you enjoy getting throttled by Brazil in a few days, and steamrollered by Chelsea, Manchester United, and Liverpool again next year. With any luck, Andriy Shevchenko can claim the title of best striker in the Premiership as well, and leave you second on all counts.

On my way into the Caltrain station to meet Fred, Amanda, and Jianghong last Friday, i saw something that made me feel a bit better about my relationship with the creatures of the world. I got out of my car and began walking about ten feet behind another gentleman who was on his way into the shopping center. Lo and behold, a little black bird swooped down into his back, and pestered him all the way across the street. I had a great view of the whole episode, and saw someone going through exactly what had happened to me on my birthday. We made eye contact and had a laugh about it. Turns out i didn't piss off the bird last week ... he's just an asshole. Protecting a nest perhaps.

V took me out for dinner and a movie last night to get my mind off this infuriating and depressing grant. We had a couple of slices of pizza at go on, take another little Pizza My Heart, then moved the Mini two blocks to a space in front of the downtown San Mateo theater and bought two tickets to Nacho Libre. Hrm. The big question going in was how long they could stretch out the joke of Jack Black as both a monk and a Mexican wrestler ("luchador"). Well, about 100 minutes, actually. The movie has some funny bits, particularly Black's feral wrestling partner who keeps reminding him "i don't believe in god, i believe in science" in the film's steadiest joke. But the whole thing feels tacked together and doesn't really provide Black the opportunity to showcase his comedy. Other than spitting out lines in his bizarre Mexican affect.

My mp3 genres need some serious work. Seeing the folk rock masterpiece Mermaid Avenue by Billy Bragg & Wilco labeled as "brit pop" just pushed me over the edge.

I've improved the fac13 user account preferences interface with more options, and added a link for those of you that are too forgetful to remember your login information. I'm quite happy with my homegrown website, but sometimes wonder just what kind of coniption fit a real programmer would have upon inspecting my code.

I think i'm grinding my teeth again, dammit. I've got a dentist appointment coming up so we'll see if they can do anything for me. Getting out from under this grant hell is probably the best medicine, though.

With this savory encounter between France and Spain coming to a climax, the final eight of the World Cup are coming into view. Some enticing matchups on the horizon ... lackluster England facing a depleted but dangerous Portugal side, hosts Germany taking on the impressive Argentines, and defending champions Brazil awaiting the winner of this afternoon's match. Ted's predictions ... England, Brazil, Argentina, and Italy make the semis, Brazil exposes the Brits' inadequacy while Argentina manhandles the overrated Italians, and Argentina knocks off their familiar rivals to hoist the trophy. Of course, i'm no Kreskin so my picks could be looking pretty silly by Saturday.

French starlet Franck Ribery is one ugly bastard. He looks like the villain in Cobra that Sly Stallone hung on a hook and set on fire.