Tomorrow I’ll fly to Michigan. Because that’s the best way to get to Thursday’s “Wait Wait” taping in Ann Arbor. I’m glad that we’ve been invited back, especially considering how I trashed the place last time. Hopefully, they’ve cleaned all that up by now and the warrant’s been lifted.

After that, it’s off to Northern California for an ultra-secret activity. More on that when it becomes less secret (but no less ultra).

I’m sure I’ll check in from my journeys. Meanwhile, content yourself with mourning Jerry Falwell. I like to refrain from speaking ill of the recently dead… but Falwell himself never scrupled on that score. Hurricane Katrina, if you remember, was God’s punishment for us bein’ all gay and stuff. As a secular man, such pronouncements are hard for me, but I would venture that Falwell’s death is God’s punishment for being a big fat fatty. Apparently it was easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a red blood cell to pass through Falwell’s arteries.

I don’t know where Falwell’s going, not for sure, but I’m confident that the NBA league office is going to follow him there. By adhering to the letter of their laws, they spared themselves having to think things through. And though this rewards thuggish behavior and could make coaches around the league start contemplating making room for a Designated Asshole on their roster… well, the league’s hands were tied. It’s a rule.

And that’s at the heart of both of my secular damnations today. Deciding whether to follow the letter of the law, whether God’s or America’s or the NBA’s, is where the rubber meets the road, ethics-wise. Jerry Falwell saw a world where God had declared bein’ all gay or abortiony or feministy or stuff… bad. The case was closed for him, and there was no man, storm or colorful children’s character that could escape his wrath after that. The idea of extenuating circumstances, his own misinterpretation, or the possibility that God might’ve Made a Bad Call… those things weren’t on the table.

Maybe it’s a little grand (or even “nuts”) to link God’s law and morality with the offices of a professional sports league… okay, more than a little… but you fans will know what I’m talking about, and the principle’s the same: Human behavior is too complex and variegated to be governed by ANY absolute set of rules, whether those rules span the globe or a 94 by 50 foot rectangle of hardwood. Rules are the tools of judgment, not vice versa. And when you miss that vital point, fucked up things can happen. A player can be unjustly suspended for taking two steps when his friend is assaulted. A man can blame a flood on a couple of people kissing each other.

Okay, I’ve stretched the connection wayyyy too far just because I’m angry that the Phoenix Suns might be unjustly eliminated. But it’s my blog, dammit. And yeah, as a rule I try not to do that. As a rule, though…