Author Archives: Jacob Greenberg

About Jacob Greenberg

Jacob is a behaviorist by day, blogger by night, and founded the Diss. Follow him on Twitter @jacobjbg

Your Annotated Smartphone Bathroom Reader for Sunday, November 1st, 2015.

The Reader is back, to help you and your number two. Flip Meant Something to Everyone Zach Bennett Hardwood Paroxysm Today marks the one week anniversary of the death of Flip Saunders, the beloved ideologue of the Minnesota Timberwolves. Once … Continue reading

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Assuming the Role.

Tonight, at around 7:30 PM, at 7000 Coliseum Way in Oakland, California, the Golden State Warriors will receive their championship rings. The rings will be impressive; it is likely that those who own them will cherish them more than many … Continue reading

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Games of the Week: October 26-November 1, 2015.

Hello. Welcome to Games of the Week for the 2015-2016 NBA season. Dedicated friends of the program (that is, my mom) know that these are my first Games of the Week in 18 months. I don’t quite remember how to … Continue reading

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You, Too, Are Uprooted.

LeBron James, in the abstract, and from a distance, can be rationalized and understood. At the most basic level, he exists as the active representative of an oft-discussed lineage, a time-honored tradition most fans of sport have been exposed to … Continue reading

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Wild Guesses and Outlandish Speculation: Just Like Old Times! Edition

Many moons ago, when blogs were spots, and blogging pseudonyms were all the rage, The Diss did a weekly roundtable called Wild Guesses and Outlandish Speculation. The feature¬†was ably carried by several of my real-life friends who were — still … Continue reading

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Timestamp: May 27, 2015.

Stan Greenberg, loyal biological father of the last 29-and-a-half-years, came over to my shit-box apartment tonight to watch the game, and per his custom, he missed the opening tip, and the entirety of the first quarter. It wasn’t a big … Continue reading

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The Last Day of the Rest of Your Life

Over the last few weeks, this picture, and others like it, have become strangely unnerving. Perhaps I’m the only one who feels it, but it’s there, tugging on my pants, whining like a hungry puppy. One doesn’t really need a … Continue reading

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