Mike O'Connell

I’ve written previously about Pope Francis (see “Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?,” Dec. 13, 2013), so I don’t feel as though I need to rehash how I feel about his economic illiteracy and completely ignorant platitudes that fall somewhere between pathetic self-help books and fortune cookies.

Instead, I thought I’d write today about how I’ve completely changed my mind about Pope Francis and think he’s playing the part exactly as he should.

Yup.

Keep in mind I still think he’s wrong about everything. Every. Single. Thing. That being said, why wouldn’t he use his platform and his place in society to say whatever the balls he wanted? Greedy corporations? Global warming? Selfishness? Consumerism? Yeah, I would rail against it all. You know why?

No one is actually listening and I don’t have any real power. Zero. I’m a streetcorner hippie who happens to have a giant microphone and fawning media accomplices. Well played, Pope, well played.

Gotta give the guy credit, too, for dining with the homeless rather than Washington elites. Stick it to the people whose reason d’être is feeling important and better than everyone else. I’m giving it to the pope on this one, who just doesn’t care how important you think you are.

Hippies are cool like that.

Do I think a 24-10 victory over the Rams yesterday spells good things for the upcoming season?

Hail yes!

Gotta love a night when your #1 draft pick pitcher goes eight innings with one hit and fourteen strikeouts and your #1 draft pick hitter goes 3-3 with two home runs and four RBIs.

Hopes held high for fourth-round draft pick QB’s chances this season in front of Heisman Trophy-winning #2 pick overall benchwarmer.

Never thought I’d write that title, but there it is. Given the Yankees’ struggles this week and the Nats’ straight-up implosion I am ready for some football. And I mean actual football, for God’s sake, not courtroom drama, player suspensions, or social media tizzies.

Last night’s season-opening matchup between the Steelers of Pittsburgh and the defending Super Bowl champs (like it or not) was a good appetizer, and my appetite is now whetted for a full slate of games this Sunday. So…

Commence football!

In the afterward to Andy Weir’s The Martian, Mr. Weir explains that his most favorite comment to hear about his smash hit is I don’t usually read science fiction, but…

I fall into this camp, and I sure as hell don’t read books that will soon be made into blockbuster movies.

But the hoopla surrounding The Martian was so great, and the praise it received from Mrs. O’Connell so thorough, I could not resist reading this #1 bestseller from a genre I never read.

Like few things in life, the hype was apt. I thoroughly enjoyed reading The Martian.

I will not divulge any spoilers here, of course. If you’re like most of American you’ve read the book already, so it doesn’t matter, but maybe you’re trying to forget a thing or two before you see the movie. I’m going to wait for the thing to come out on Netflix, so by then I’ll have forgotten everything.

One thing I won’t forget is my favorite characteristic of the book…

It’s funny.

That’s right, the futuristic book about space travel and a man seemingly sentenced to death is… funny. The main character is not only likable, he thinks like a regular person (not an egghead astronaut), and he makes fun of things that should be made fun of. Government in particular and bureaucracies in general are numbers one and two. Gotta love that. I wish our protagonist wouldn’t make fun of disco music so much, but nobody’s perfect.

If you have yet to read The Martian, I recommend doing so. The book that started its life as basically a blog post from a guy who likes science deserves its (four years later) celebrated status and hopefully the big-budget film version will do it justice. I’m definitely going to see it…

Even though I don’t usually watch science fiction movies.