On To The Championship Game

We played well enough to win. Particularly on the offensive side of the ball. Rodgers played very well, considering at the moment he runs like I do. Poorly. Lacy played well. Receivers had some drops, but also some passes that our guys couldn't catch with an extension ladder and oxygen masks. 

We need to play better at Seattle. We still have Dom Capers as DC, so there is still time for us to get ready to get blown out...And buy shovels and quicklime.

Regarding the Dez Bryant controversy? I expect everyone agrees that the rule was applied correctly. If you don't like the rule, and honestly, I'm on the fence, complain to the NFL Rules Committee. Am I happy about it? Sure, I won't claim any hypocrisy, it was an enormous call. What I am not happy about:

The Dallas Wankers Cowboys have the almost the worst fair-weather fanbase in the country, nearly into Minnesota Vikings territory. Dallas had a good season, can't knock them for it, but all the fair-weather celebrities, sports pundits, and ass-kissers (Chris MommyIssues Christie!?!?!) have trotted back out their "football street cred" and enduring love for the Uglys. These peckernecks will now spend an entire off-season complaining about the Bryant call.

May I suggest to them -

Dear Nationwide Syphilitic Genitalias; 

If the Cowboys are so damn good, why couldn't they hold an eight point lead, as opposed to praying for a call when they had gone down by 5 with four minutes left? 

Please to be shutting yer pieholes, 

Love, paleo

An Open Letter To The Modern Thomas Pain(e)s

So, I've been on Twitter for a while. (twitterwhore: @paleotectonics). 

I don't often use it to try to engage, don't even typically look at the timeline. I don't believe it is even really possible to debate with 140 characters - I consider myself primarily a polemicist, so, admittedly, that can be fun, but I can get more creative here. I mostly just use it to talk to the friends I've made and abuse radio show hosts. 

Now, this morning, I did breeze through my timeline. (Every once in a while I look at Yahoo and Youtube comments, as well. These are not good places. Mostly just reminders that Adventure Time is prophecy and not the result of psilocybin and Benadryl.)  One of the folk I follow is Trix (@commiegirl1) of Wonkette, and she got into an brief exchange this AM, probably nothing much to her at her level of notability, but one of the tracks she was in contained a quote I found rather illustrative.

Liberals are Americans who hate the ideals that made America free & prosperous. They poison the water of freedom

Ferpplt. The frak. Hmmm. K.

Dear Modern Day Martin Luthers,

WHO IN THE BARKING HELL TALKS LIKE THAT?

Okay, Eustis, I realize you believe you are channelling Thomas Jefferson(1). I realize your talking points are filled with this gargle. I realize you have gone through pallets of cardboard, boxes of markers, and hours upon hours with rulers creating masterpieces of political philosophy.

THE BLLOD OF PARATRIOTS IS THE SUMP OF AMERICAN IRRIGATION

THIS TRICORNER HAT IS JUSTICE 

OUR FOUR FATHERS ATE AT THE LOAF OF GOD

There's a reason we mock you. Gleefully, in my case. You not only do not address a single argument, you can't seem to get near the topic. Paul Krugman says that the math and the evidence/experience shows that raising the minimum wage doesn't hurt the economy. You respond BIRTHCERTIFICATEGHAZI. Bill Nye gives his likely valuable time to Ken Ham in a quixotic attempt to educate him, of all people. Ham responds with godidit and by attempting to game the tax system and most existing labor laws. 

I'm certain you are an inspiration. Your garden gnomes remain standing throughout your whole howl. If it rains, you've inspired gawd to fix your irrigation. If the wind blows, you've inspired gawd to dry you the hell off after the rain. Congratulations. But.

Our country has legitimate problems, and the adults need to work on it. So you go find tricorners for your lego city denizens, or work on your discourse. If you don't like the minimum wage, give an actual reason. If you don't like President Obama, give a legitimate reason. I didn't like President FootiePajamas, and for reasons, not having anything to do with the fact that he was a dry-drunk coke-fiend puppet to his Vice President. Unknown trillions lost in a crusade in the Middle East. The attempt to privatize Social Security. His letting New Orleans drown while rebuilding Trent Lott's vacation home. 

Step up your game, or go sit in the stands, chief.

Love, paleo



(1)Or, perhaps, more likely, Jefferson Davis.  Possibly Jefferson Sessions, R-AL, Kleagle of the Klowncil Of Klitizens, District South. Unlikely George Jefferson, East Side, Deluxe Apartment In The Sky.

Just A Couple Thoughts About The Paris Attacks

I won't belabor the tragedy and stupidity of the events in Paris at the Charlie Hebdo magazine offices. But, I did note this, and wish to submit with comment. I know, me?

President Francois Hollande called the shooting“an act of indescribable barbarity”.

Imma propose a thought experiment. I’ll use myself, just as an example. If you prefer, use yourself, or your local weather man, or ag reporter. Wevs.

Suppose I was a better writer. Suppose anyone read my better writing. Suppose that after one of my typical bits, say, for example, pointing out that Scott Walker even failed Douchebro 101 and performed cunnilingus on capybara, some vapid patriot, eyes full of mucus, brains full of Fox News and thrombosis, pants crammed full of American Sniper in paperback, a dictionary for the hard words, a dictionary for the word ‘dictionary’, and a theoretical erection (when thinking of considering the possibility of looking into the opportunity of perhaps one day, maybe soon, joining the military and killing brown people) were to come to my doorstep, (he thinks, the street numbers are kind of high, 3 digits is his usual limit), squints at me as if doing his best Clint Eastwood impression, or as if perhaps the Fibrilex is finally taking effect, and does something to me.

I’d have a better shot of Hollande saying something nice about me than anyone in the USA even taking notice.

Our President? I generally like the guy, and can’t fault him for this, but there are 100 shootings a day in the Land of the Bleeding. I’m small fry.

Our media? Andy Cooper wearing a JeSuis Paleo t-shirt? CNN speculating that I have MH-370 stashed in my fruit cellar? If it was covered at all, only then until the MN CSI crew left.

The entirety of Fox News in a writhing, almost ethereal, almost dance, a telegraph of obeisance to the Nether Gods, celebrating the end of a liberal, culminating in drunken orgiastic cries from vats of potato salad and bile.*

Just saying.

*BTW, fuck Fox News. For the record.

Why Did This Not Win All The Oskars Mk.II

Okay, so I am still in healing mode, Sweetie, I, and Brother-in Law kicking back. Wings and video. My brother in law was sent for video. Somehow the choice came down to me. My requirements tend to be specific yet surprisingly easy:

1.) Robots
2.) Lasers
3.) Robots meeting lasers, with predictable vaporitic results.
4.) Boobs Daisies and puppies and anything written by Nicholas Sparks, sweetheart, with zombies.

So, BIL off to Redbox with my specs. I searched online and gave him a ranked choice. Sanitorium*, Maleficent (despite my enduring loathing for Angelina Pitt, I'm somewhat intrigued), and Horrible Bosses (recommended to me, but I hate cringe comedy, and if that's what it is I'll be unpleasant). (For the record, Redbox is a poor goddammed way to get videos. Anyhow.)

BIL returned with Maleficent, which we will be watching, but I was starting to have a gore-on for Sanatorium, so we went to one of the 37 services we have and found it.

*So, Sanatorium. Not about anything related to a frothy mixture.

Briefly, the plot is a ghost-hunting show (yes, I have watched all of the the ghost-hunting shows. Bite me), for its special 100th ep, does an investigation in a very haunted former sanatorium (see how it ties together) (it's this sort of world creation/atmosphere setting that separates the just-out-of-film-school-writer/producer/cinematographer from the random man of the street, and reminds me why Ron Howard is inexplicably wealthy yet Clint Howard is considered a genius lunatic and possible cannibal/amphibian molester.) Bad things happen, including the fact that the whole film is shot as 'found footage'.

For the record, I enjoyed 'Blair Witch'. I like 'Paranormal Activity'. I tolerated Borat. Found footage sucks on ice. Blue filters and green filters (to resemble footage from an IR camera), most eviscerations wait until the end, rarely any good views of the evulz critters (not actually defined as clear shots of the Big Bad, but interesting shots of the critter/its badness are called for.)

You know what, it's not a bad little film. Some pretty effective jump cuts, leaves mysterious what ought to be mysterious, some simple but appropriate effects. Nice body count, decent amount of blood, (not Saw levels, that's ridiculous, but enough to let you know bad things...) Rather short, but probably better for it.

Two disarticulated thumbs up!

Merry. Blasted. Christmas.

In what has become a 2014 tradition for me, I got released from the hospital a few hours ago. A severe case of cellulitis, lower right leg. While the left leg is still in the process of healing a substantial DVT. Adding in the particularly horrible little curse I have, teh diabeetus, health care professionals reacted excitedly. 

Overnight Sunday through this AM, a blur - I respond very poorly to narcotic painkillers. (Sweetheart can take oxycodone and do beadwork; I take mere vicodin and forget what vision smells like.)  

As IV antibiotics in adorable quantities started making some difference yesterday, I noticed an annoying little cough, which before too dreadfully long turned into a rather frightening difficulty breathing. One freakout, set of bloodwork, and chest x-ray later, I've added the Flu A to my facebook favorites. My sweetheart, 3 nights by me nearly constantly, royal pain in the ass to nurses, doctors, custodians and food services, had been a champ, but by this morning I'd re-payed her. With the Flu. Fudge.

We're back now, my leg looking like roadkill, feeling like a chew toy, only reluctantly supporting my somewhat dizzy body, and with a remarkable stew of pharmaceuticals floating through my bloodstream. My wife out cold under 170p.s.i. of blankets. I'm only up for a bit yet, due to pill scheduling that will overrule my typical routine for the next few days, but I've managed to hit a few personal perennial Christmas traditions tonight.







I kind of wish my new 2014 traditions will die quietly and then spontaneously combust in a bucket of gasoline on the floor of the oxygen tank storage room for the maintenance shop at the flour mill. But Christmas, shit. Still love it, and no fucking medical bullshit gets to take it. And since it is, right now, Central Standard Time, midnight,

MERRY PASTAMAS TO ALL, AND AL DENTE GOOD NIGHT!

The NRA - Depraved Or Criminal Weenies. I Report, You Get Squicked

Setting, NRA Headquarters, Fairfax Virginia, a very well appointed office. Framed giclée prints of firearms line the wall. Oak desk, oddly somewhat taller than most.

Cast, Wayne LaPierre, now entering the office. Well pinned suit, hair slicked back, almost shellaced. He is followed by a young woman in a standard business pantsuit, in an Advantage™ camouflage pattern, carrying a number of documents and newspapers that she then places on the desk. WLP picks up the New York End Tmes.

Wayne LaPierre: absent-mindedly "Thank you, Miss HotLoad."
Miss HotLoad: quietly, exasperated "For the goddammed last time, my name is Conner." normal tone "Of course sir."
WLP: "Anything important in the world this morning, babe?"
Miss Conner: again, quietly, exasperated "I should have listened to my mother." a normal, but somewhat nervous tone, as if she knows exactly what will happen next "Well, there's been a school shooting, about 130 kids dead."

Miss Conner has worked with Mr. Lapierre long enough to catch the momentary break in his facade, the hint of a grin, and turns away as Mr. Lapierre ducks below the desk. She hears a low moan, and 7 seconds later Mr. Lapierre re-appears.

WLP: almost giggling "Ok, Miss HotLoad. I'll need the PR people. Standard drill, no official response from us for a few days, anyone who says anything is politicizing a tragedy, the kids should have had guns, and so on."
MC: now genuinely nervous, and a hint of disgust "Mr. LaPierre, it wasn't in the US, Peshawar Pakistan."
WLP: the facade has dropped in its entirety, ear to ear grin "So not christian, or white?"

Mr. LaPierre drops below the desk, moaning, the sound of a head bouncing off the bottom of a desk drawer. Miss Conner turns her back on the desk, throws up a little in her mouth, tries to distract herself - who do the Packers play, who the hell makes camouflage pantsuits, and who chooses them for a uniform, why didn't I listen to my mother. Mr. Lapierre pulls himself up above the desk in 33 seconds.

WLP: casual "Hrmmff. Miss HotLoad, cancel the drill. That will be all. And, you know, thanks."



What? I suspect I'm right, or at least close.

Random Football Post

All opinions are my own and correct.

Wisconsin Badgers vs Ohio State Buckeyes

I'm a little surprised to see Wisconsin as a 3-4 point favorite, honestly. It's going to be brutal. On our side, it's on a neutral field, Indianapolis Lukas Oil (a city also known as Hell, the air handlers work overtime, the filters being changed every half-hour.)

• Playing indoors, Melvin Gordon can take full advantage of a dry field.
• Also due to being played indoors, Joel Stave's famous 'where-is-it-going' misdirection passes could find a target.
• Our offensive line is much better than any offensive line OSU has seen this year.

In OSU's favor, they are a really good football team, JT Barrett or no.

• The team is playing for a spot in the CFB playoffs, the oh-so-scientific way the NCAA has come up with to choose a national champeen
• OSU will have some emotion, playing for Kosta Karageorge and Barrett

My pick - 24-21 Badgers but I would not put money on that.

Notes - The NCAA And Amphibian Molestation

As an important aside, one sort of hopes that the suicide of Karageorge can get some push into the NCAA and NFL doing something about the freakin' concussions. It won't, of course - the NCAA has a code of Omerta that the Mafia aspires to, and is one of the leading criminal organizations in the country with their wildly inconsistent rules about amateurism. The NFL is not far behind.

Speaking of the NCAA and criminal behaviour, I heard a good theory this morning about Jameis Winston, FSU QB, who is not going to be drafted as high as he is thinking. FSU will punish him, starting January 13, the day after the college championship game. He won't be back for the spring semester anyhow; he is expected to declare for the NFL draft. Speaking of the NFL and criminal behaviour, someone will draft him, but, as I said, not as high as he is thinking. 

As for the Champeenship Tourney, only one SEC team. Good, I hate 'em. I'm not particularly fond of Oregon either, but I can live with them winning out.

As far as the Heisman Trophy, it'll probably be the twerp QB from Oregon, further proving the NCAA and all sportswriters have their collective heads so far up their collective asses they use gastric depressurizations to style their combovers.

Green Bay Packers vs The Mighty Atlanta Falcons

Atlanta is feeling good, expecting to host a playoff game with a frightening 5-11 record. I'm not complaining about the NFC South - that's just how it goes. ESPN can shut the fuck up and live with it. As for the game, I expect a solid victory for the Packers. 

The Packers are the top of the NFC right now, Arizona has lost momentum. We have a chance to run the table, although I am a little concerned about Buffalo. They can play some ugly football and win, and I think could surprise someone looking past them to Detroit. As for Detroit, they have so far avoided their time-honored of imploding in Week 9, but now have reached December, with their time honored tradition of lying down like a cheap Persian Rug embroidered with a Kincade painting.

Special Note From The Management

My puppy likes to lick Punkboy cat. Okay, so my dog will have hairballs. Wevs. The Punk will take it up to the point that Jaxson attempts to swallow his head. Then it's on. Take the points on the feline.

The Minnesota Vikings - Just Cuz I Lives Here

The Queens, watching their enormous boondoggle going up in Minneapolis, have shown sparks. Although I can't document it, mostly because it is not on a document, I picked them at the beginning of the season to go 6-10. Imma revise that to 7-9. Couple more players and the patience to not brutally turn on their QB and I could see 8-8 down the road. Still not good, but. 

Zygi Wilf is a savage failure of the human experience. When he kicks it, there are not enough anti-rejection drugs on earth to allow the possibility of organ transplant. A toad, and not the good lickable kind. He believes he's Machiavelli's Prince. I suspect he's a bit more Carrot Top.

The Peterson saga is near an end, Goodell screwed up the situation to the point where any judge will reinstate him, but the MN sports market, surprisingly, has sort of said the hell with him. I suspect he doesn't play this season unless MN goes ahead tomorrow with the almost inevitable trade to the Cowboys. 

And stuff.