The Web of Fear

I switched over to "The Day of the Doctor" at 2:50. YOU SHOULD HAVE TOO AND I DON'T CARE HOW BIG OF A NOT-NERD YOU ARE. The Borges-O-Meter is back to -10.

In spoiler-preventing white text after the jump, some things that happened in "The Day of the Doctor" that could be used to explain the offensive performance. Highlight to see.

Trey Burke, Speech to the Electors of Crisler

Burke opposed the French Revolution, but he supported the American Revolution.
Political scholars ponder the meaning of this, as if it were something more than a dislike of decapitations.

I am sorry I cannot conclude without saying a word on a topic touched upon by my worthy colleague. I wish that topic had been passed by at a time when I have so little leisure to discuss it. But since he has thought proper to throw it out, I owe you a clear explanation of my poor sentiments on that subject.

He tells you that "the topic of declaring for the draft has occasioned much altercation and uneasiness in this arena;" and he expresses himself (if I understand him rightly) in favour of a coercive authority forcing players to stay in school.

Certainly, gentlemen, it ought to be the happiness and glory of a Michigan basketball player to live in the strictest union, the closest correspondence, and the most unreserved communication with Coach Beilein and his assistants. Their wishes ought to have great weight with him; their opinion, high respect; their business, unremitted attention. It is his duty to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his satisfactions, to theirs; and above all, ever, and in all cases, to prefer their interest to his own. But his unbiassed opinion of his talent, his mature judgment of his abilities, his right to play professionally if he so chooses, he ought not to sacrifice to you, to any man, or to any set of men living. These he does not derive from your pleasure; no, nor from the law and the constitution. They are a trust from Providence, for the abuse of which he is deeply answerable. Your point guard owes you, not his industry only, but his judgment; and he betrays, instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your opinion.

To deliver an opinion, is the right of all men; that of the Maize Rage is a weighty and respectable opinion, which a player ought always to rejoice to hear; and which he ought always most seriously to consider. But authoritative instructions; mandates issued, which the player is bound blindly and implicitly to obey, to support, and to receive no remuneration for, though contrary to the clearest conviction of his judgment and conscience,--these are things unfortunately known to the laws of the NCAA, and which arise from the fundamental mistake which is the whole order and tenor of its constitution.

Michigan basketball is not a congress of players from different and hostile interests; which interests each must maintain, without agent or advocate, against others without agents or advocates; but basketball is a deliberative assembly of one nation, with one interest, that of the team; where, not local purposes, not local prejudices, ought to guide, but the general good, resulting from the general reason of the whole. You choose a point guard indeed; but when you have chosen him, he is not just a Michigan Man, but he is a basketball player. If a Michigan constituent should have an interest, or should form an hasty opinion, evidently opposite to the real good of a player, the team ought to be as far, as any other, from any endeavour to give it effect. I beg pardon for saying so much on this subject. I have been unwillingly drawn into it; but I shall ever use a respectful frankness of communication with you. Your faithful friend, your devoted servant, I shall be to at least the end of my sophomore season: a flatterer you do not wish for.

Brendan and Brady's Downton Abbey Marathon

What is a 'week end'? What is 'nightmare fuel'?

BRENDAN GIBBONS knocks on the door to BRADY HOKE's office in Schembechler Hall.

Hey coach, I need some academic help.

Sure thing, son. What can I do for you?

I'm taking a history course on Edwardian England this semester, and with the Sugar Bowl and the celebrations and all the girls wanting to celebrate Mardi Gras with me, I'll already way behind on my reading. I need a tutor to help me get caught up!

Lucky man, Brendan! You don't need a special tutor. I can get you caught up lickety-split. Just come by my house on Monday night and be prepared to take notes.

Monday night? Isn't that the BCS national championship?

Yes it is, but as obscure blog The Hoover Street Rag points out, both LSU and Alabama are dirty recruiters, so it really doesn't matter who wins. I was going to start scouting out Alabama for our game in September, but now I figure there's no point until we know who's going to wind up in St. Saban Memorial Hospital. Don't worry about the BCS. I've got a much more entertaining and informative evening in store for you, son!

Yes sir, Coach Hoke! I will be there on Monday!

You have to believe in things that aren't true. How else can they become?

First off, gentle readers, I'm sorry I couldn't get the post title to appear in small caps. Blogger's not cool like that.

Sometimes things don't go your way. I was going to spend a lovely Christmas with my wife and enjoy a relaxing new year, but fate, a.k.a. staphylococcus aureus, stepped in and I spent Christmas hacking up my lungs and New Year's Eve at the University of Maryland hospital in Baltimore. Tuesday was my first full day at home, and the only reason I was able to stay up to watch the Sugar Bowl is because I slept from 2:00 to 6:00 in the afternoon. The silver lining of all this in the short term is I got to watch a lot of bowl games. Capital One Bowl Week is best experienced while being hospitalized for pneumonia.
 
(If any of you ever say anything bad about the Belk Bowl, I will tell you what the Belk Bowl distracted me from in the emergency ward. You will regret having said anything bad about the Belk Bowl and will never do such a thing again.)

Sometimes things do go your way. I don't think there's a single thinking Michigan fan on the planet who isn't saying, "Oh yeah, the horseshoe up Brady Hoke's butt must have had a horseshoe up its butt that was transmitting signals to the horseshoe up Jareth Glanda's butt." Sometimes the broken fake field goal somehow works. Sometimes the pass that should have been intercepted goes through the defender's hands and becomes a touchdown. Sometimes it's like winning the lottery. It just happens.

Horseshoe not shown.

In a football game, if something goes your way, it means it didn't go someone else's way. Poor Danny Coale. The man has the greatest moment of his life, and two minutes later, some man in a booth tells him, "Sorry, didn't count. The ball jiggled." It was the right call, but can you imagine having the best thing you ever did taken away? Poor Justin Myer. He steps out on the field in an emergency and kicks  four field goals, only to have the fifth one go wide. Fortunate Brendan Gibbons gets his chance, and he becomes a hero to brunettes all over the nation.

Hail to the victors valiant. Hail to the vanquished valiant. It's no less of a victory because our team got some lucky bounces. Somehow, by a millimeter, by a millisecond, Michigan kept its promise to Team 132 and those who stayed were finally champions.