Once every two or three years

I read a news article that is not tainted by partisan bullshit from time to time. If I had to estimate the frequency of such an occurrence, I would say that it happens once every two or three years.

Student loans are apparently a political issue these days. Democrats want more and more lending, with subsidized interest rates, while Republicans want interest rates to be more of a market issue and less of a government one. Neither party appears to have the gonads to tell the world that college costs have nothing to do with interest rates. College costs are, in point of fact, absolute bullshit.

A four year degree might put you at the front of the line for a menial job, but that's about it. Millions of people, including your humble blogger, are presently pursuing degrees that are unlikely to provide any return on investment. In my case, it really is a long story and I don't care to tell it right now. In the case of most students though, the myth of a valuable college education seems to prevail. So they we borrow money and hope for the best.

I had to shop around for the best value, given that I'm not wealthy and I actually have some small hope of making this whole process worthwhile. I found Arizona State University to be more affordable than the schools here in Michigan, so I became a Sun Devil. For most teenagers heading off to school for the first time though, price is the last thing on their minds. As long as ole Sallie Mae will cover the cost, who gives a shit? Go wherever your loans and test scores will let you go. It's the same mindset that led to the mortgage crisis a few years ago.

The net result is that college in 2013, much like real estate in 2007, is ridiculously overvalued. There's a crash and burn on the horizon, and we have nobody but ourselves to blame. And this brings me to my point. I could take you though the facets of college tuition inflation step by step, but I really don't want to. I am bored with life and even more bored with blogging, so instead I'll point you to an excellent article by Matt Taibbi of Rolling Stone. Yeah, I know, Rolling Stone. That hacktastic rag did apparently publish the following piece though, so credit where credit is due. I see an honest and detailed article like this about once every two or three years.

http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/news/ripping-off-young-america-the-college-loan-scandal-20130815?print=true

There's no way they actually televised this, right?

For fuck's sake, I enjoy lowbrow humor and moronic puns more than the next guy, but come on. You didn't think this sounded silly before you put it on television? Then you're a fucking idiot and, quite frankly, I won't feel bad if you get shitcanned and your family can't make ends meet. Sometimes that's just what needs to happen.

The Corleone Institute is accepting nominations.

Through years and years of intensive study, the researchers at the institute have tried to determine who exactly is the most attractive woman on earth. Our researchers are far more lazy and prone to distraction than most, so there's no telling where this study will lead. It seems like some sort of ranking should be in the works, sooner or later.

In addition to their general laziness with respect to matters of research, the folks at the institute can sometimes become obsessed with a single topic and overlook the virtues of other topics. This week's 'topic' of choice seems to be Kate Beckinsale. On a scale of 1-100, her physical beauty is about a 150. And, from the little bit that I've seen the researchers have seen of her, she seems pretty cool. Plus a prim and proper London accent, just for good measure? Oy, she's gonna be tough to beat.

I don't know if any sort of ranking is actually forthcoming. I don't even know if anyone reads this blog anymore. When you work as a tech support guy for a major computer/cell phone company, and therefore spend all day telling elderly people how to set up their ID's for app purchases, blog topics don't come readily to mind. You typically just feel inclined to get as far away from your computer as possible. Maybe my blog has already entered the death spiral from which there is no exit. I don't know.

Assuming that anyone is reading though, the Corleone Institute welcomes all input. Is Kate Beckinsale the most desirable woman on earth? If not, we're accepting nominations. google-site-verification: googlea5e42937fcf52959.html

I was bored this morning. Then I saw an internet discussion about a certain movie.

And the rest, as they say, is history. Enjoy.

This one is not funny, and I don't enjoy writing it.

It has to be said though. Jon Hurdle at the New York Times is a sick, twisted man. Let me state, for the record, that I'm not arguing the merits of the Gosnell case here. I'm pretty sure he has another judgment coming. Maybe I'm wrong, but that's a whole other discussion. My point is one of basic English.

Hurdle reported on the story of...

"Dr. Gosnell, who according to prosecutors killed fetuses that were alive after they were aborted."

Kick it around in your brain for a minute, take it from a few different angles, and... shit, I don't know. Whatever. Fetuses that were alive after they were aborted.

Hurdle is referring to babies who were born - alive. Being born alive means, by definition, that they weren't aborted. Where I come from, those babies are called babies, or newborns, or humans, or any of a number of other nouns. I left out the gratuitous descriptions of what happened because I'm not trying to have an emotional discussion here. You have probably heard a few details about the case, despite the efforts of some media to ignore it. The gruesome actions of the doctor speak for themselves. But if you're a reporter, if your job is to report the story, is this really an acceptable twist on the English language? I submit to you that it's not. Otherwise, every run-of-the-mill birth in this country yields nothing more than a fetus that was never aborted.

There are thousands of posts on this blog. You can read them. I typically word things in a way that supports my viewpoint, or sounds amusing to me, or emphasizes whatever aspect of a story I intend to emphasize. This is how the real world works when it comes to writing, and I'm no innocent bystander on that score. I get it. But shit, man. Some of this really has gone too far. This is not a matter of 'pro choice' or 'pro life' being used to put a happy spin on one's chosen viewpoint. This is something else. And it makes me sad to think that we have "news" stories written in this manner.

I decided to have a little fun with this one.

The chick is a bona fide moron if she thinks gun magazines can't be reused, but I hope my little gift at the end will give you a chuckle.

 

Looks like the ole Godfather found the smoking gun

There has been a lot of talk in this country about just what ideology our dear president holds. Is he the most moderate Democrat in the last 70 years? Some would say so, with fancy line graphs to back up their assertion and everything. Then you have others, like the governor of Louisiana, who seem to hold a different view. Then there are the libertarians, who often seem to think that Obama is simply another neo-con in Democrat clothing.

The one thing that we can say with some degree of certainty is that a lot of people like to call the president a socialist, and a lot of other people get pretty pissed when that happens. Until now the 'Obama is a socialist' crowd have had to rely on comparative political analysis, pitting the president's views against those of self-professed socialists in Europe. It's a fair exercise, but most of the Tea Party crowd aren't picturing a European social democracy when they talk about the president. They're talking about a good old fashioned commie. That label is a little more difficult to justify... until now.

I was taking a quiz online a little while ago. There was a list of the U.S. presidents' names, but they were spelled in the Russian form of the Cyrillic alphabet. I got them all right eventually, although I did have to pause the game in order to decode the different characters and relate them to the English names. My score on the quiz is not the point here though. Just take a look at the list and see what stands out to you.



Some of those loony liberal types might try to tell you that this is just an odd coincidence, but I know better. We've had presidents in this country for more than 220 years. None of their names are recognizable in that crazy commie language. None of them except one, that is. They have been planning for the arrival of Comrade Obama for quite some time, it would appear.

Sweet

I remarked to my brother today, as we left Joe Louis Arena, that you don't always buy the ticket to experience the game. You can watch the game on television, after all. Sometimes you buy the ticket to experience the walk back to your parking spot. After the Irish won the last ever CCHA championship this afternoon in Detroit, that walk back to the parking spot was a beauty. Absolute silence. The same Michigan fans who were hooting and hollering after their early 1-0 lead were forced to simply shut the fuck up and accept reality for what it is.

Notre Dame beat Michigan five times out of five this season.

Notre Dame caused Michigan to miss the NCAA tournament for the first time in more than 20 years, likely securing a #1 seed for the Irish in the process.

Notre Dame sent Red Berenson out on a loss. Heh. (Although, to be fair, Red's two national titles are infinitely more than Bo's zero.)

The little douchebags to our left, doing the weird 'whoop whoop' thing during Michigan penalty kills, had to sit and suffer as my brother did the same following each of Notre Dame's three glorious goals.

Notre Dame will own the Mason Cup... forever.

You probably can't solve this dilemma.

I went bowling earlier tonight. (223, 178, and 202, in case you were wondering.) While I was at the bowling alley, I got a text message from one of my cousins. I had done some technical work on her behalf recently, but this text message was of a social nature. Long story short → sure, I'll stop by the local redneck pool hall and have a beer.

After a short time, she and her crew were ready to leave the pool hall. Predictably, of course, she asked if I wanted her to stop by my house and take a look at the aforementioned technical work. This was obviously the underlying basis for the original social invite. It was 1am, so having a few visitors seemed perfectly logical to me. Let's do it.

She reviewed my work, handed me some cash, and then hung around to talk for a little while. By the time she left, the re-airing of the new bible show on the History Channel was wrapping up. From what I saw of that show, it was pretty lousy. Just a halfassed attempt to brush across a few key biblical stories and then skip hundreds of years before brushing across the next key biblical story. I was unimpressed.

Then, at 2am, there was the viking show. That one was also new. As tends to be the case where television is involved, I again found myself unimpressed. I'm just not a TV guy, I guess. I may check out another episode at some point in time, since Ragnar Lodbrok is an interesting historical/mythological figure, but that first episode was shitty.

Then, as tends to be the case after a 2am show has concluded, it was 3am. What to do at 3am... what to do? I could go to bed, but that's not my cup of tea. I could read something, but it was 3am, so... I could flip through the channels and see if anything was worth watching.

I found live baseball on the MLB Network. I like baseball - a lot. In early March, I especially like baseball that counts for something, unlike the typical spring training game. The World Baseball Classic was the perfect fit. And did I mention that it was live - at 3am?

But here's the dilemma. The game was being played between China and Cuba. If you wonder how I feel about communists, then you clearly don't know me. Visit the navigation links at the right of the page and do some reading. If you already know how I feel about communists, then you're starting to get an idea of my problem. For whom should I cheer? There's no easy answer. The ChiComs are probably the world's biggest offenders right now, but the Cubans damned near caused WWIII back in the 60's. Personally, I take a somewhat forgiving view toward the Chinese, since I buy a lot of cheap shit that was made in China. But then again, the Cubans make good cigars. And I do enjoy a good cigar.

Based on the few people that I've met from the respective countries, I find the Chinese to be more likable. Then again, I recently took a class that taught me about my cultural predisposition to hate people with dark skin. It hardly seems fair to the Cubans that they should suffer as a result of my latent racism. I mean, clearly I'm racist toward everybody other than pasty white males, but the Cubans are darker. So I'm more racist toward them. Studies say so. Studies conducted by people with PhD's and shit. Who could argue with that?

So, do I root for Cuba in order to compensate for my hatred of dark people? Or do I root for China in order to compensate for my hatred of those who pursue "progress" by killing millions of innocent people? It's a tough call. And we haven't even gotten to the part where both teams wear uniforms that would look cheap on your local beer league softball team. As a white heterosexual male, clearly I hate the gays. So it's no surprise that I fail to appreciate fabulous uniforms like these.

So there you have it. Which team should I support? And why?

(Spoiler alert: I hope an asteroid hits the stadium and takes out both teams. You know, because I'm white... meaning I'm racist.) But let me know. Anything else I should support?

I don't watch a lot of hockey, but wow.

It's my understanding that the Wings are in a transition phase and, as a result, they're not very good this year. As I was having dinner with some friends tonight, I saw that they dropped eight goals on Vancouver. Wow. We're told that Detroit is the most miserable city in America. For today at least, I'm pretty sure Roberto Luongo was the most miserable person in Detroit.

I've watched a handful of games this year. I don't think I've seen the Wings score eight goals in total. And one goal was even taken off the board after Datsyuk touched the puck ever-so-slightly above the crossbar before it went in the net. Wow.

Take this one for what it's worth.

I'm on record telling you fine folks, right from the start, that Manti Te'o was innocent of everything other than misleading his father.  You sure as shit won't see me backing down from that assertion now.  Every bit of evidence - EVERY BIT OF EVIDENCE - has backed up Manti's claim that he was just a gullible nerd who fell in love and didn't know any better.

So, as I so very astutely informed you blog reading folks, the narrative began to crumble.  You were first told that he was the world's greatest con artist.  That held up for a day or two.  Then you were told that he kept lying about "Lennay" after he knew she didn't exist.  That one still has some tentacles in certain circles.  It's false, for what it's worth.  He got a call on December 6th.  He had an interview on December 8th.  The notion that the December 6th call cracked the case is incongruous with everything else that we've learned.  Common sense would dictate that this phone call would send the poor kid into a state of confusion.

But screw it.  People will always want to assume the worst about people who appear to have exceptional character.  Even if you accept the false notion that the December 8th interview was a lie (and I don't), you would generally have to agree that it's understandable given the circumstances.  Unless you're a hater, that is.

In that case, you need to move right on to the next narrative - "Nobody could possibly be that gullible."  As someone who knows nothing about Manti Te'o other than what I've seen on television since he committed to Notre Dame, I'm no expert.  And, as such, I know far more than 99% of you out there.  This guy is different.  He has been different from the start and this has been obvious to anyone who paid attention.  But some people just can't accept that a guy could have the heart to become closer and closer to a woman that he never met, even as she became more and more distressed.

Here's an article from someone who claims to have insight into the subject.  I make no claims about the author's qualifications.  If you people are so convinced that Te'o should have vetted Lennay, then you can go ahead and vet the author of the linked post.  I don't need to.  I was convinced that Te'o was telling the truth from the start.  Nobody has come close to convincing me otherwise.

So read the brief article of you like.  And take it for what it's worth.

(Then, if you're really in the mood for some self-reflection, compare this story to the Benghazi story.  Four dead Americans as a result of administrative incompetence, followed by non-stop lies - nobody gives a shit.  Manti got tricked by a fake internet chick - national scandal.  This country is seriously fucked.)

The narrative is falling apart.

Face it. The kid got tricked. He lied to his father about his internet girlfriend, which he shouldn't have done. Beyond that, the media firestorm has been dead wrong. Being a sucker who was drawn to a suffering woman is not nearly the same as purpotrating an elaborate hoax to prop up a nonexistent Heisman campaign.

Speaking of the Heisman thing, some of you fucking people are awfully stupid.  Take ten seconds and think shit through before you fill the internet with it.  Before the Michigan State game, Notre Dame had just squeaked by Purdue.  The quarterback had been benched.  The coach was being questioned from every angle.  Optimistic fans thought a 9-3 record might be attainable.  Self-described realists were thinking probably 8-4 or 7-5.  Te'o was not on a single major Heisman watch list.  Not one.  Nada.  He was not a Heisman candidate.  Oh, and he's a fucking linebacker.

Here's the Heismanpundit watch list - probably the most well rounded and respected of the bunch.  Where's Te'o?  Much like Lennay Kekua, he's not there.  Here's the SI list.  Te'o?  Not there, even though they have a specific category for defense.  They went with Jarvis Jones.  Next up we have Yahoo Sports, an organization that has been doing pretty solid reporting for a number of years now, in case people haven't noticed.  No Te'o to be found.  The Fox Sports list is a slideshow, but Te'o isn't on any of the slides.  And, even though you get my point by now, we can't move on without mentioning the World Wide Leader.  Again - twelve players listed, none of them named Te'o.

So, according to the genius of internet wisdom, this guy faked a girlfriend's death on the same day that his grandmother actually died in order to bolster a Heisman campaign that didn't exist.  Nevermind the fact that the ESPN cameras would have been there to discuss him playing on the day that his grandmother died anyway.  He's the star of the Notre Dame football team.  I get a chuckle out of all the butthurt hatred directed at the Irish, but I can certainly agree that they get a little too much media exposure at times.  You honestly think that people would have been saying, "Well, it's too bad that his grandma died, but that's not really a story.  Now, if he had a girlfriend who died on the same day we might have something to talk about."  Do people have any idea how fucking stupid this sounds?  Playing to honor his grandmother would have been the story of the week.

Now, after spewing venom and hatred at this kid for a few days, people are entering the rationalization phase.  Watch it happen before your eyes, if you're not already enlightened enough to accept that I'm right and just move along.  Here's Deadspin, the purveyor of the original hit piece, when it looked like Jeremy Schaap wouldn't get his interview with Te'o.

It's not clear whether ESPN landed and lost the interview, or if they never had it in the first place. But there are two decent reasons for Te'o to look elsewhere when he wants to tell his version of events. First, Jeremy Schaap fancies himself a hard-hitting interviewer, and wouldn't let this sit-down go by without asking specific, pointed questions that leave no wiggle room for non-answers. Te'o's statement contains facts that don't mesh with what's been reported, so it would be very easy for Schaap, if he wanted to, to pin Te'o down on a lie. Much better for Te'o to find another, softer interviewer. Like, say, Oprah.

So they were pretty sure that Schaap is a good reporter and that he would nail Te'o.  Then, after the interview happened, the narrative switched to one where Schaap didn't get any information and his whole interview was just a waste of time.  Why?  Te'o told the truth, had evidence to back him up, and Schaap believes him.

The overriding lesson here... I guess there are two.

1. Jumping to conclusions - yeah, you already know about that lesson.  But this is a good reminder.  It was pretty over-the-top.
2. This widespread eagerness to "bring down" somebody that we perceive as too good is a sign that we need to sort some shit out in our own lives.  Seriously.

Now for a prediction:  We'll see evidence trickling out over the next few days and weeks.  Maybe we'll even see the perpetrator give a tearful confession and beg for forgiveness.  The dug-in elements of our society, consumed by their venomous hatred of Te'o and/or Notre Dame, will find ways to explain away the evidence that shows they were wrong.  Those who were slightly less dug-in will simply shift their storylines.  A couple of days ago it was that Te'o was in on the hoax.  Now it will be that Notre Dame should have gone public sooner.  Even though their investigation showed that the situation didn't involve the university and Te'o had already graduated, they should have come forward and discussed a former student's private life publicly.  Why?  Well... just because.  That's why.

Journalism 101: When your narrative falls apart, it's not time to seek the correct narrative.  It's time to save face.

True Colors

This Manti Te'o story is going to reveal that Te'o is exactly what we thought he was.  He's a pure soul who believes what people tell him.  Since he believes in human goodness and the blessings of "the Heavenly Father," he's what the rest of us would call naive.  Or at least he was.  Now he's probably one step closer to being a cynical piece of shit like me and (I suspect) most of you.

Mark my words here.  If Manti is guilty of anything, it's letting his father believe that he met this "woman" in person.  How many of you have met people online?  I have.  Some of them have been reluctant, or at the very least hesistant, to admit that we met online.  I don't give a rat's ass myself.  If the technology is there and it allows you to meet people, then who gives a shit?  But I'm not a famous dude who is supposed to be full of supreme confidence and all the rest.  It's not difficult at all for me to think that the kid would prefer for his father not to know that his "girlfriend" was really an internet chick.

I have a hunch that the rest of the media narrative is about to fall apart though. And when it does, some of these hack journalists will try to backtrack from what they said this week. You already saw it though. They showed their true colors.

There was only one good thing about that game last night.

Actually, no, there was nothing good about that game last night. Oy.

Fág an Bealach

The Corleone brothers will be taking in the action at E.G. Nick's in Plymouth, if anyone cares to stop in for a pint.  I'm told that there will be a healthy gathering of Notre Dame folks, so the atmosphere should be pretty fun.  Always more fun when the team wins, of course, but we'll just have to see how that part goes.



It's been an awesome ride to this point though. I was able to see three games in person this year. I was at the opener in Dublin, the following week's nailbiter against Purdue, and then the Senior Day game against Wake Forest. I sat among Navy parents as they openly remarked that the Notre Dame players looked bigger and faster this year. I sat among Notre Dame faculty as they bitterly predicted that no team that struggles against Purdue is going to have a very good season. I sat on the 15 yard line as Manti Te'o ran out of the tunnel for the final time and met his parents at midfield. Aside from having the money for a trip to Florida, which I unfortunately do not have, I'm not sure I could have scripted the season any better. Only one scene left to finish. Fág an bealach! Clear the way, me boys.

It's the little things, really.

I was watching football this evening.  With every snap taken by Robert Griffin III, my blood inched a little closer to its boiling point.  I'm sure that Mr. Griffin is a gentleman and a scholar and a breeder of fine horses.  I'm also sure that he's an inexperienced young man who should not be left to decide when he has crossed the line from helping his team to hurting his team.  That decision should rest squarely on the coaching staff.  And here's a quick tip to the Redskins' coaching staff → a one-legged quarterback is not helping your fucking team.  You pissed away a golden opportunity to advance to the next round because you were too fucking stupid to realize that you were on your way to scoring a big fat fucking goose egg in the second half, while your fucking quarterback could neither run nor throw.  (Maybe my blood actually did reach its boiling point.  It's hard to say.)

So, after that debacle, I was left to do what any red-blooded American would do on a Sunday night.  I went bowling.  There's a place in Livonia that has a Sunday night special - $4.95 for three games - so that's where my brother and I went.  There weren't a ton of people around when we got there, but the place was a little busy.  As some of you in cold weather climates may know, the first few frames with frozen bowling balls don't tend to go very well.  After that though, the balls started to warm up and the scores started to improve.

What didn't improve was the music.  I like rap music... when it's good.  I don't like unintelligible bullshit about boats and hoes and whatever the hell else the modern degenerates like to discuss.  So yeah, the music was awful.  I saw that the jukebox was one of those fancy TouchTunes deals and my mind went to work.  I have an application on my cell phone called My TouchTunes.  It allows me to play songs on the jukebox via the internet.  This could be fun...

After a brief consultation with my brother, followed by a review of my account, a strategy began to take shape.  I had $5 left over from a previous use of the application.  I transferred the $5 into my 'active' location and started looking for something to play.  What would this motley collection of white suburban kids really hate?  Since they were listening to an embarrassing assortment of garbage that wouldn't even pass for ghetto music, I had a hunch that I knew what would get a reaction.  I found some old Irish folk music from the Dubliners and spent the extra credit to have my song played next.  Then the laughs began.

One girl looked terrified by the peaceful melody.  She ran to the jukebox and slipped in a dollar.  Then a guy (maybe her boyfriend, I don't know) joined her and tried to find something "better."  Then another girl, and another guy, and so on...  There wound up being six of these idiots huddled around the jukebox, desperately trying to find something that would get this hideous Irish music off the air.  It was one of those times when you just wish you had thought to start recording video.  Alas, it hadn't occurred to me, so you'll have to take my word for it.  This was some funny shit.

So the wannabe hoodlums decided on a sequence of songs and went back to their respective lanes.  And that's when I busted out the 'play next' option.  As those poor saps started swaying in unison to whatever dumbassed song they had decided to play, I instructed the jukebox to play 99 Luftballons - next.  They had paid for whatever, five songs or so.  After their first song, an awful German pop number came blasting from the speakers.  The reaction was priceless.  I was doing this from a cell phone app, keep in mind, so nobody had actually gone to the jukebox.  Those dumb kids had no idea what was happening.  They had just lined up whatever they wanted to hear and my cell phone was dictating otherwise.

My brother and I enjoyed a hearty chuckle and then waited for another song to start.  It was the next in the list of hip-hop wannabe crap that the kids had played.  They started to bob their heads and make those hand gestures that white kids make when they don't realize how white they look.  The time was right.  Of the twelve people that I could see on the neighboring lanes, four were wearing some kind of Michigan attire and a fifth was wearing a Michigan State cap.  Next on the playlist - the Notre Dame Victory March... three times in a row.  Holy shit, was that funny.  We all have our insecurities, but the insecurity of Michigan fans when it comes to Notre Dame is truly something special.  Those dorks were visibly shaken.

It went on for a little while longer.  I know that I got The Macarena and Barbie Girl in there.  Some other songs I don't recall.  You would think that these youngsters would know about the cell phone app and figure out that the two dudes in Notre Dame caps were the ones messing with them.  They never seemed to figure it out though.  And it was funny.  And I averaged 190, having not touched a bowling ball since last summer.  Not too shabby.

It's the little things, really.

Apparently the pep rally was tonight

Depending on who is providing the estimate, we're talking about anywhere from 15,000 to 25,000 Notre Dame fans in attendance.  Say whatever you like, but that is simply stunning.  If I traveled all the way from [insert location here] to Miami, you can bet I'd find some other kind of diversion on a Saturday night.  Either our fans are the most dedicated anywhere or they are the most boring anywhere.  Maybe it's a combination of the two.  In any case, wow...

Even though I have no hope of traveling to Florida and I've never been one to get fired up about a pep rally, I'm officially ready for this game.  You'll note that my prediction for the Cotton Bowl was laughably wrong, in keeping with tradition.  How anybody can watch as much college football as I do, but be as clueless as I am when it comes to predicting games, is anybody's guess.  I'm pretty nervous about Notre Dame's chances though, so things are looking good.

After all, you can put us down and keep us out but we'll come back again...

It's really getting close now, isn't it?

In four days we'll know.  Until then, we're reduced to waiting and chuckling as the (allegedly) invincible SEC teams continue to look rather pedestrian against non-SEC competition.  When Oklahoma blows out Texas A&M tomorrow, assuming my projection is accurate, it will be high time for the gamblers of the world to revisit that point spread for Monday night.

The point spread is right where we like it though, to tell the truth.  The Notre Dame gang aren't really very good at handling success.  They tend to get high on the smell of their own farts and then, as sure as the sun rises in the east, lose a game that they should have won.  When the whole world disrespects them, on the other hand, they play as well as they can play.  Sometimes 'as well as they can play' simply isn't good enough, but we can live with that.  It's the unmotivated bullshit that we can't stand to see.  With those degenerates from Alabama favored by 10, there should be no lack of motivation for the players and coaches this time around.

Which brings us to the topic of motivating the fans.  That's sometimes a more tricky proposition.  A certain degree of cynicism has been woven into the fabric of Notre Dame football over the last twenty years.  Since the voters screwed the Irish out of their rightful national title following the 1993 season, there hasn't been a whole lot to cheer about.  Sure there have been good games and decent seasons.  But lots of teams play good games and have decent seasons every year.  The loyal sons of Notre Dame aren't going to be very inspired by that.  So, for the fans of the Irish, motivation is a little tougher to produce.

Quite a few of us who follow the Fighting Irish are, in a manner of speaking, Irish.  We're not Irish in the sense of having been born in Ireland.  By that measure we're purely American and damned proud of it.  Yet we have some weird fondness for the land that our grandparents left behind, many years before we were born.  As you're likely aware, I had the chance to visit Ireland for a week last year and it certainly was a magical vacation.  This post is directed at people like me - Irish-Americans who happen to live and die with the Fighting Irish.  There will be a follow-up post before the game, but for now we'll just listen to the Wolfe Tones and get our blood pumping.

How big is your screen?

Big enough to contain this one?

[Graphic courtesy of zerohedge.com]

That's like saying I have $16,000 in credit card debt, a minimum wage job, and a house in foreclosure - but I got a $62 coupon to spend on a new $1,089 television that I otherwise couldn't afford.  So, you see, I'm making progress.  I'm still putting that TV on my credit card, and it still costs me $1,027, but I couldn't possibly try to control my spending.  What sense would that make?

I swear... these morons... and WE the people who elect them...  I swear.