Snow + Football: A Match Made In Hell, After It Froze Over.

There's just something about blizzards that really makes a person want to blog.* I only know this because today, after thinking to myself, "Why don't I brush the dust (or snow, as the case may be) of the ol' internet and say some things?" I realized that snow was the thing I talked about last time I brushed the dust or snow off the internet and said some things. Well, I'm afraid that's just how things happen. And in case anyone was curious, I have, since my narrow escape from the student clinic which eclipsed with its scale all the year's other feats of daring and bravado, run into the radiologist and she is doing well. She did not remember me, however. I fear she's been brainwashed by the university.

I am led to believe that brainwashing is the University's preferred method of communicating its message, simply because of the vast scale of its economy. Efficiency is maximized by force; force is easy to come by when you are a gigantic, mulit-million dollar institution. Yesterday, David Boren called me three times to say the same thing. The first two times, he called me twice at once. Repetition, persistance. Persistance is the key; repetition is the lock. No, repetition is the key. Persistance is the other key. Perhaps persistance is the knocker. Sometimes, persistance is a many-hundred-pound knocker made of iron that you bring along with you when you want to be absolutely sure whoever is inside will hear you knocking and will promptly get the door. That way, if they don't, you're sure to have saved yourself a trip, not to mention the unease of conscience that comes with peering into people's windows, trying door-handles, and the like.

Do not misunderstand. I am not saying that brainwashing is permissible. (I have been taught emphatically since childhood that it is a vile practice!) I am merely mentioning its merits on the grounds of plain reason. The banner of knowledge ought to be flown high for everyone to see, if they're looking toward it, and for those who aren't, a little tweaking of the head this way or that will surely do more good than harm, provided they pay to see the Banner of Knowledge just like everyone else. Oh, my soap box is getting off on a tangent again. Or is it the other way around?

It is the other way around.

Now, soap box and I are lost in a frigid wasteland of the tangential and irrelevant, with no hope of finding our way back to the habitable climes of relevance, rationality, and wit. While we're here, I think we might as well play some football.

Does this make sense? No! This sentiment is utterly unfounded in any grounds save for the utmost paragon of lunacy! Then again, what other grounds can a person expect from those poor souls ensnared in irrelevance's bitter clutches, those poor souls who have no hope of extrication from their wanderings in an icy country of "Oh! That reminds me...?" What grounds, indeed?*

Suddenly, everything makes sense.

I've learned something, and that is not to dust off the ol' internet without having first established a thesis. Dear reader, I hope to not let you down again.

*boredom