A Circular Motion: Looking Back to Look Forward At Week 6

Because if you stare into the great abyss looking for the future, what you're really seeing is the past, we preview this weekends games by looking back through History.com's "This Week in History."

Baylor at Texas Tech (12 pm EST)/Lincoln Observes Military Balloon Demonstration (11:22 am EST)

Controversial new aerial technology is demonsrated before big-eared executive, who is dubious of its actual worth in battlefield conditions. Decision is made to stick to Naploeonic formation tactics with the occasional calvary/wildcat charge.

Minnesota at Wisconsin (12 pm EST)/Minnesotan Circles The Globe On Foot (10:45 pm GMT)
Disenchanted Minnesota natives hit the road. When asked why they've decided to subject themselves to the pain of a journey that's going to inevitably bring them to exactly where they started, said "I was tired of Waseca, tired of my job, tired of a lot of little people who don't want to think, and tired of my wife."

Tennessee at Georgia (12:21 EST)/Chief Joselph Surrenders, Still Screwed (5:30 MST)
After attempting to lead honorably in the face of a dishonest world, a tired chief tries in vein once more for a victory for his people. After failing, he declares, "Hear me, my chiefs: My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever." Then, limps to Canada.

UCLA at California (12:30 pm PT)/90210 Premieres on Fox (8:00 PT)
Counting on drama and sensantionalism to bring them into competition with more staid industry stalwarts, a network under edgy new leadership brings the bad boy with the dark past to lay wreck to any notions of academia, scholarly pursuit or free love with illicit substances, unplanned pregnancies and cutthroat tactics. On the way out, a tree burns and a nation embraces its guilty pleasures.

Alabama at South Carolina (3:30 pm EST)/Stalin Demands the Liberation of Stalingrad (6:12 am MSK)
The humbled once-brash dictator stares down the new, seemingly irresitable darkness on his doorstep and perpares for a final, depserate push to turn them back. Meanwhile, the rest of the free world watches and waits to meet their new overlord.

Clemson at UNC (3:30 PM EST)/Dalton Gang Gets Greedy, Ambushed, Decimated (1:15 pm MST)
Pushing their luck in an effort to take a shortcut to long-term prosperity, well-known outlaws are caught in a firefight that results in severe attrition. Those who survived offer only solemn warnings to others who think about challenging the law: "The biggest fool on earth is the one who thinks he can beat the law, that crime can be made to pay. It never paid and it never will and that was the one big lesson of the Coffeyville raid/Miami Yacht Party."

LSU at Florida (7:30 pm EST)/Sputnik Launched Into Space (10:29 pm MSK)
Supposedly less technically-advanced nation under leadership of questionable sanity continues to shock and confound the world with feats of success that seem to far outstrip their perceived abilities or performance in basic functions.

Auburn at Kentucky (7:30 pm CST)/James Bakker Indicted, Jessica Hahn Cashes In (8:30 am EST)
A fraudulent faith healer's scam finally gets exposed, while the underling he screwed over on his way out of the door makes the most of a bad situation to pad the wallet and build notoriety.

USC at Stanford (5:00 pm PT)/Liz Taylor Marries Construction Worker (8:30 pm PT)
Legendary Hollywood institution, tired from scandal and battered from the spotlight, goes slumming in rehab with the first swinging dick with a full head of hair who winks and slaps the ass. Everyone involved assumes it will end in either divorce or matricide, possibly by arsenic.

MSU at Houston (7:00 pm CST)/Work Begins On Mount Rushmore (6:15 am CST)
An ambitious visionary struggles to manipulate hard, formless nature into a lasting work of art in a desolate landscape. Little does he know, he will never live long enough to see his efforts come to fruition.

Menomena: West Coast Cool and the Value of Desperation

I need some desperation in my music. We are going to crack this symbol, bleed these fingers, break these strings, pound these keys, strangle this mic stand until you get it.

And that was what was missing from the Menomena show. By all accounts, they're comers. A rising West Coast rock band that's about ready to break out. They brought three racks of pedals, one and a half keyboards, two laptops, baritone sax, windpipe, a variety of guitars and two plastic baby doll heads. And they played them all. Yeah, the guy played the bass line with his feet while blowing out some rough bursts on the baritone sax. That was impressive. But did it actually do anything for the song? Eh.

They are all very talented musicians, and they know it. There are two great varieties of performers. The first are the self-concious who go over the top to compensate for their perceived (real or otherwise) shortcomings with pure sweat equity. The second are the cocksure geniuses of their own mind who believe they are actually the second coming of the Christ, and doesn't think you fully appreciate the greatness. But they're about to convert you.

The drummer, Danny Seim, brought it. There's no doubt. On a stage of electronics, style and technology, he brought the lo-fi wood, brass and bare feet that drove the show. The highlight of the set was a song called "Dirty Cartoons," with vocals by Seim. As the rest of the band joined in for the final build-up harmony, it was one of the few earnest moments of the night. The kind that made you sit up and see what could be with a little less primp and a little more madness.

For the rest, they were too sure of their own talent and the crowd's appreciation of it. The bass, either played by pedal or string, was steady and interesting. The keys were everything an accent should be. The guitar was strong. Even the three and four part harmonies were flawless. But that was the problem. They had nothing to prove. It was like watching the smart kid in the class solve an equation. It's the difference between a rock show and a recital.

Every show should be a revival. You have a message and crowd of non-believers. If you don't convert them, they'll spend the rest of their lives wandering hopeless and lost. It's that simple. There's somebody out there tonight who doesn't believe. And we're going to beat on their chests until either their eyes open or their ribs crack.

The band picked up energy as it went along. Looking back, it was a solid effort and certainly worth 3 beers and a $15 cover. But it was very California in the assumption of cool and appreciation. It was beauty without heartbreak, which is just kind of empty. If you like Menomena, you should check out Centro-Matic/South San Gabriel. All of the genius, a little more offbeat and a whole handful of desperation...because what else is there in Denton, Texas if not desperation?

Ronnie Hawkins's The Long Corner: Arkansas/Alabama

I spent last Thursday night watching a Ronnie Hawkins documentary. I spent Saturday afternoon at an Arkansas Razorback watch party. In the time in between those two events, I observed the build up of the large community of Natural State ex-pats with whom I work, live and carouse. From then through the end of the game, one line from The Hawk, another Razorback in exile, kept coming into my mind:

"The Big Time is right around the corner.' They told me that for the first time in 1952. Boy, it's been a long corner. If I don't hit the Big Time in the next 25 or 30 years, I'm going to pack in the music business and become a full-time gigolo."

Oxford Underwear Bandit: Justice and Cash

There are two things we hold sacred here at the blog-- justice and cash money. When the pursuit of those comes together, there's no holding us back. So it is that we take on the case of the Oxford underwear bandit, where local Lafayette County authorities (a modern-day version of the Untouchables) have put out a $1,000 reward for information leading to the thief's capture.

Between June 5 and Sept. 5, Oxford police have dealt with a dozen break-ins where a suspect -- the same person, police believe -- has entered young women's homes, stealing only their underwear -- ignoring jewelry, electronics and other valuables.

Almost all cases have involved students at the University of Mississippi, with one case being a recent Ole Miss graduate; the exception being a 36-year-old mother who police describe as "very young-looking."

The suspect has tended to strike between 7:30 a.m. and 11 p.m., always with the home uninhabited -- although in one case, a woman returned within three minutes of the break-in, thanks to a home alarm system

http://www.commercialappeal.com/news/2010/sep/12/underwear-thief-targets-homes-of-women-attending/

After extensive research and surveillance, we've narrowed it down to five prime suspects:

Rebel the Black Bear

Description: A large black male, full shiny coat of hair, smells of berries

Last Known Residence: The Ewok Village on Hawthorn Road next to Campus Walk

Current Occupation: Mascot hopeful and the constant search for sweet, sweet honey.

Motives: Known forager, possible family history of petty larceny, intrigued by musky smells, naturally curious

Alibi: Has never stolen anything he couldn't eat, and thongs get caught in his teeth.

Jackie Spears

Alias: Dr. Teeth

Description: Young black male with a luminous smile.

Last Known Residence: Memphis, Tn

Current Occupation: Grillin' the shit out of anything that moves.

Motives: To get caught and bring his mugshot glory to the greater Oxford area.

Alibi: Has never actually seen a pair of women's underwear. They dissolve as soon as he opens his mouth. To Jackie Spears, "panties" are as real as leprechauns.

Billy Cannon

Alias: Legend, Louisiana State Inmate #13334956

Description: 6'1, 220 lbs, cloven feet, smells of sulfur and corndogs, head like a Dick Tracy villain

Last Known Residence: Angola, Louisiana

Current Occupation: Director, Louisiana State Prison Medical Director/Eluding sneak attacks by maniacal Billy Brewer still trying to tackle him.

Motives: Known theft of other valuable Ole Miss trophies, including 1959 National Championship.

Alibi: Only runs at midnight. Also, still has the underwear of every first born daughter in the state of Louisiana mailed to him on their 15th birthday in keeping with Napoleonic law and the "Billy Cannon Appeasement Act," the last piece of legislation signed by Governor/Mental Patient Earl K. Long.

Pete Boone

Alias: God's Banker

Description: Gray around the ears, black around the heart, polyester around the waist.

Last Known Residence: An army cot in Robert Khayat's laundry room.

Current Occupation: Ole Miss Athletic Director/Meter Maid/Author

Motives: The only way to profitably scalp the rest of his season tickets for this year's home games would be to partner them with slightly-used coed lingerie in his eBay listings...also could be used to help move the inventory of his latest novel.

Alibi: If he was indeed guilty, could not resist the offer of $1,000 to turn himself in, though he would weep tears of betrayal into the bills for nights afterward...just like after David Cutcliffe was fired.


Lefty Testudo



Alias: Frequently answers to, "Hey you, stop pissing on my hedges."

Description: Like the starting center for the Lollipop Guild's intramural basketball team with a skill set and lifestyle mirroring Lithuanian legend Arvydas Sabonis late in his career.

Last Known Residence: Winters in the pine straw piles behind the Ole Miss physical plant, but summers on the cool tile floors of the AOPi House lobby.

Current Occupation: Evangelizing against the evils of Canadian whiskey/Perfecting the practice of "Blackout Mondays"/Burrows like nobody's business

Motives: History of high-risk behavior involving the residences of Ole Miss women and strange mating habits in the wild...also a known forager.

Alibi: Only interested in plus size women's underwear, otherwise they won't fit fully over his head, leaving him susceptible to sunburn.

Late Breaking Bullitein Update, New Suspect is Added:

Kenny "The Snake" Stabler
From his autobiography "Snake"about Raiders training camp:

"The collecting of female undergarments," Stabler wrote, "became an annual rite of training camp for many of the Raiders . . . I liked to tack my collection up on the walls."

Stabler also has a history with Oxford's second favorite criminal offense and defending the Redneck cultural traditions under fire by the Man,

"All I wanna do is drive around in my truck and drink Jack Daniels... and they just don't understand."

Ole Miss/Vandy: Another Chapter In The South's Greatest Football Rivalry (Brought To You By Eddie Money)

Early morning start? Check. Low rent broadcast coverage? Oh yeah. The dulcet tones of at least one dude named Dave? Present. A stadium half-filled with red-eyed, overheated fans? Done.

When they all come together, it can only mean one thing-- the South's greatest football rivalry has come around once again to amaze and astound us with feats of self-destruction, apathy and mediocrity. It'd be like if Steve-O from Jackass joined Nickelback on a tour of Topeka and then it was broadcast by the local high school A/V club.

It was an exciting time when we heard about the new, record-breaking ESPN/SEC TV deal. Every game on some branch of ESPN! While we had grown to have a colloquial affection for the Trip-Daves formation and Golden Flake glory of Jefferson Pilot (eloquently expressed by Dr. Saturday here), it was time for us to shine the shoes, cut the hair, wash the ass and go for the bright lights of the Worldwide Leader.

While we were correct that the days of the 11:30 CST starts and Three Dave coverage were over, what we didn't know was that they would be replaced by kickoffs that were actually 30 minutes EARLIER, equally regional television exposure with 2/3rds fewer over-hyped Daves, replaced by the stunning ambivalence of college football's third-most unjustified Heisman winner-- all still under the global empire of Golden Flake snack products (and, at least where I watched it, Eddie Money's 2010 World Tour...good seats only $10. Like the best of Dean Martin last year, I'm buying).



So what went wrong for the Rebels in the 2010 incarnation of this classic match-up? I will defer to the words of John Lee Pettimore, who was one of the brave, sweaty, over-caffeinated crew standing on the line Saturday morning in Oxford:

John Lee Pettimore:  There are few words. Crowd sucked. Team sucked. Grove still kicks ass. Team sucked. Our O-line couldn't block me and three trolls.: 
Atticus: Trolls can be ferocious. I'd take a troll or two on our line these days

John Lee: At least they wouldn't stand straight up and try to lesbian titty rub the opposing D-line. I bitched and moaned about O-line recruiting for the past three years in order to avoid having to watch this. I will continue to bitch and moan.

So where do we go from here? Set new goals and redefine what it means to have "success." What are those new goals you ask? I'm still considering that, but I'd imagine they will include not throwing up on my shoes, avoiding actual rape on the field and beating Arkansas in Fayetteville. 'Till then, I'm riding with Eddie. Take me home, boys.

Tulane: And the Art Of the Finishing Move

"It got pretty gritty. I started to hear the word "draw" in my sleep. Then one day, I was just walking down the street when I heard a voice behind me say, "Reach for it, mister!" I spun around... and there I was, face-to-face with a six-year old kid. Well, I just threw my guns down and walked away. Little bastard shot me in the ass. So I limped to the nearest saloon, crawled inside a whiskey bottle, and I've been there ever since."

This was we expected at the beginning of the season. A larger than life defense, anchored by Jerrell Powe, carrying a largely undeveloped offense with Nathan Stanley holding on for dear life. Then, Jeremiah Masoli took a wrong turn at Albuquerque and somehow ended up sharing the backfield. For one half, the only surprise was the pleasant competence of the offense.

Then we laid our guns down, turned our backs and some squirrelly little bastard shot us in the ass.

We've crawled back out of the bottles and now, wandering the streets of New Orleans, another prepubescent voice calls out "draw." Time to find out if we've got what it takes to stomp on a throat.

Ole Miss/Jacksonville State.

I would like to talk about what happened yesterday, but I don't know. I fell asleep after the first half. And if any of the coaches or players were honest, they'd admit the exact same thing.

Like Houston, I was awoken by a flurry of text messages with varying forms of "What the fuck?" I pulled the game back up at the beginning of the first overtime. It was then that Lefty Testudo sent me this:

Lefty: This is awful. What will Bama do to us. There will be no virgins left.

Atticus: Any virginity we've got left isn't worth protecting.

With baited breath, I anxiously await the input of Basil and the rest of the Arkansas nation. That's fine. It's certainly their right. They ate their cupcake without pulling a Mama Cass. The Ole Miss message boards are already thick with calls of "Fire Houston." And then, one voice of unintentional wisdom rings out from the commentariat abyss:

"Let's not overreact. I'm not going to jump ship like the rest of the Titanic survivors."