Eight, maybe nine hours in Pittsburgh: C-Notes goes and draws really ridiculous conclusions


Cathedral of Learning, eh? Somebody's got a little inferiority complex.
This weekend, C-Notes ventured behind enemy lines to investigate the other city of steel of drunken quarterbacks. Yep, we went to Pittsburgh. And after booing at a silver Escalade with Steelers stickers on it, we covered the town and found that this place is just one giant pimp of a city. It started in earnest at PNC Park, the most beautiful minor-league stadium ever constructed on a river. ... There, 200 cheering fans yelled as their “Bucs” crushed the Cincinnati Reds. Seriously, there are no baseball fans in Pittsburgh. We assume they left years ago, when Bobby Bonilla and pre-roidal Barry Bonds skipped the city for other adventures and infamy. But what we couldn’t help but noticing was how the Pirates whore out their mascots to sell things. Pirate cartoons introduce the players, kids wear eye-patches, and the team has added a large parrot mascot to join the Pirate, doubling their mascot roster. Hell, in Cleveland, we don’t whore out our Indian. You don’t see Chief Wahoo shooting hot dogs from his bow. Nope, Cleveland respects their mascot, which is why we gave Wahoo reconstructive surgery several years back to fix his nose. From PNC we wandered our way to the Andy Warhol museum, a six-story building built in honor of the great gray-haired pop artist. All throughout the city there are posters of Warhol. They even named a butter-colored bridge after him. And again, we found ourselves asking why must a city whore itself out? Does it really want to attract Basquiat (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean-Michel_Basquiat ) wannabees from Williamsburg? Hell, in Cleveland we don’t bother with all that nonsense. There are no palaces in honor of Harvey Pekar. He’s ours. We love him. We don’t need to show off his talent to outsiders. And if anyone doesn’t know who he is, screw’em. After wading through 20-foot-long silver screen canvasses of Elvis and portraits of Campbell’s Soup Cans, we ventured toward the learning district of the city. Here we came upon the Cathedral of Learning, a grandiose gothic phallus. Pittsburgh one again galled us by whoring out their educational institutions. And they didn’t even make it the tallest educational building in the world. That was done by the Russians. Hell, in Cleveland we don’t flaunt our minds for gargoyle blood. Our pride and joy is Fenn Tower, a modest 22-story building off of Euclid. And we use it as a dorm, a chamber to store the minds of our future. We didn’t get caught up is some worthless Cold War race then, and we sure as hell won’t now. We can’t afford it. So screw-you and your whoring ways, Pittsburgh. And may Roethlisberger run his bike into a cement truck. – Bradley Campbell


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