GENIUS VULPES, CYBER SPECIES

“Nobody was expecting billionaire entrepreneur Mark Cuban to be a runaway surprise on the ABC reality show Dancing with the Stars,” thus began a blog post of a downtown Manhattanite who sounds like a McCarthyite.

Cuban “wiggled his hips, snapped his fingers, (and) lip-synched” as he danced the foxtrot with his partner, ending it with an odd little hop that prompted one of the judges to characterize him as a “bouncing bionic billionaire.”

Cuban’s performance earned a 7 from each of the three judges for a final score of 21. “Blackjack, baby,” the “lean, mean dancing machine” responded heartlessly. (I figure he’s got diamonds, clubs, and – am I thinking too swiftly?)

Talk about geeks gone wild.

“Now can I get an encore, do you want more…So for one last time I need y'all to roar…” (That’s Jay-Z rapping – even as his New Jersey Nets are dropping. That’s ironic and this is anachronistic – Nero fiddling while Rome was burning.)

Cookin’ raw with the Brooklyn boy meets servin’ Blizzard at the Dairy Queen.

While Cuban danced with his partner from Down Under, his Dallas Mavericks struggled to position itself up there.

After playing musical chairs with the Nets, the Mavs were left out in the cold doing the cha-cha while their Western Conference and in-state rivals two-stepped their way to the playoffs. When its franchise player went down and out for about two weeks, the team was all set to fall off, fold up, and call it a season.

Nobody was expecting them to survive the shootout in the Wild, Wild West, much more to be a runaway surprise like a lean, mean dribbling machine or a bouncing bionic basketball team.

But, last night, the Dallas Mavericks clinched a playoff berth. It took a walking wounded to spearhead an end-game blitzkrieg attack on the Utah Jazz. Reigning MVP Dirk Nowitzki, the Stuka ace himself, delivered the precision bomb that won the war.

Not only did Dirk give the Mavs their 50th win of the season, a playoff berth for the eighth consecutive year, and a second straight victory over an elite team, but the wailing siren of his dive bomber is bound to scare stiff every Western power.

To translate the deathless and deadly words of the great German general Guderian, “Don't fiddle, smash!”

Like geeks gone wild, let’s get rowdy, let’s get loud, let’s be proud!

Go, Mavs!