HiR:tb Toots (@warwalker)
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By junior on January 24, 2008, at 2:07 pm HIR:tb is back, after a brief but spirited match with an ambitious and highly mischievious bunch of technical gremlins. For the past couple of days, anyone attempting to access the site either got an error message (early in the Crisis); a blank browser page with a cryptic message in the title (late yesterday, my way of trying to tell you I’m aware of the problem and trying to make fix it up all better now); or a more explicit message (complete with animated graphic!) that was basically the equivalent of one of those Please Stand By test cards that the local UHF station would put up whenever drunk Uncle Billy showed up and tripped over the cables in the control room at channel 77.
The source of the difficulty was an attempt at upgrading the software that functions as this blog’s engine: wordpress. I am not kvetching, complaining or whining here (seriously – wordpress is freeware and I applaud the efforts of all those out there who spend their spare time tinkering away with code to permit dummies like me to have fun with things like this blog), but by way of explanation to those wondering what was going on around here in the technical department, suffice to say that there are challenges involved in maintaining the nuts and bolts of this site, which lives on a server. Ever had a problem with your own computer when you installed a new piece of software or updated an existing program? This was the same idea, except that to accomplish the update, I had to start monkeying around with the files on the server via FTP (instead of just double clicking on an installer program like you might use in Windows) and generally doing things about which I had only a very limited and vague technical understanding. I was armed with a set of instructions from the WordPress site, but the said instructions are woefully overmatched by the task at hand, in view of the depth and breadth of my ignorance. As a rough analogy, it was much like a simple cobbler setting out to perform an appendectomy, having reference only to the following medical diagram:
 Anyway, at last, our electrical nightmare is over and I can resume the important business of musing about John Ferguson Jr.’s successor, complaining about the commercials aired during football telecasts and generally thinking (metaphorically) out loud.
The interesting thing, though, is that I missed you! You, my Internet friends who write to tell me that you saw my blather and chose to read it.
My apologies for the brief interruption of our social intercourse.
I couldn’t help noticing that the WordPress site indicates that there is yet another update that I need to do – a security patch to the upgraded software I just managed to beat into some semblance of obedient submission. I think I will wait until the weekend to give that one a shot – I don’t think I’ve got a good butterfly-ectomy in me right now.
By junior on January 22, 2008, at 2:46 pm Remember that thing I posted about having found the property that satisfied the Known Requirements and Specifications for the Kingdom of Juniorvania? And remember how there were certain conditions and contingencies, some of which lay beyond our control, that would determine whether the Kingdom would be claimed?
In a word: “Done”.
The Kingdom is ours; at least, that is that an agreement has been struck by which the sellers have agreed to do the thing that sellers do best – selling – and we have secured the right to be the purchasers.
The mind of a benevolent ruler boggles at moments like this; so many things to do and such little time. Here’s a short (far from complete, just off the top of my head) list of the things Spouse and I will need to accomplish prior to the March 14th closing:
Design and produce Flag of the Kingdom (I am thinking something with a Viking, a snake and some badass lightning bolts would be nice – stylistically reminiscent of 1970s van art, of course);
Assemble Army, Navy and Air Force. As the boundaries are somewhat land-locked, “Navy” may be somewhat lower priority than other Juniorvanian defence forces;
Compose, perform and record suitable National Anthem. Something stirring and patriotic, but not dolorous or ponderous. If composition proves difficult (we should know after ten or fifteen minutes of trying to write) see if that Tchaikovsky fellow is available to do us up a little jingle like he did for the Russians; and
Ruthlessly suppress all dissenters. (I didn’t really want to do this one, but it seems to have been on the list for every other two-bit despot and tyrant in history; who am I to mess with tradition?)
All hail the Great Kingdom of Juniorvania!
By junior on January 22, 2008, at 12:45 pm I just got a call from a friend who’s telling me that TSN is reporting that John Ferguson Junior has been fired by the Leafs and that Cliff Fletcher is rumoured to be on the way back in an interim capacity.
Film at 11. Hack journos, please commence preparing your “Cliff Fletcher needs to be fired as GM of the Leafs” articles. Difficulty: no referring to the trade of Brett Hull – besides the fact that Fletcher knew Hull was going to be good but needed to build for immediate success – undermining the central factual premise of one’s own argument – it’s just too dependent on facts and history. Point out that Cliff Fletcher is an old man; much older, in fact, than when the Leafs hired him before.
Update: It’s official. The Leafs are having a press conference right now.
By junior on January 21, 2008, at 12:28 am Bear with us here at HIRTB for a couple of days. There is a situation that has developed with the HTML code in the wordpress theme that used to control the manner in which this site is presented. This “situation” developed when I got a little bored at half time of the Pats-Bolts game and began trying to “improve” the site.
The HIRTB tech department is on it, but let’s face it, the HIRTB tech department essentially consists almost entirely of half-wits, bumblers, fuck-ups and losers, so the time line on that fix may be a little flexible.
To resolve the difficulty temporarily, I have installed a completely new theme. Feel free to rant and/or rave about it in the comments section. As always, both pointing and laughing are allowed, just not at the same time.
By junior on January 20, 2008, at 12:57 pm Did you know that the Minnesota Wild of the NHL do not now, nor have they ever had a permanent team captain? Instead, players for the Wild serve as Captain of the team for terms of a month or two in length, following which the responsibility is shifted to a team-mate.
Now, I like to think I’m still young enough at heart to more or less personify a take-no-prisoners, breakin’ the rules, punk ethos (you know, aside from the tie-wearing office job, predilection for spending quiet time at home with Spouse and otherwise entirely bourgeois lifestyle) – but this Minnesotan aberration is hockey heresy and, as I will demonstrate, dangerous and possibly treasonous. I can only conclude that the NHL has been entirely unaware of this anti-social behaviour, or it surely would not have been allowed to pass without comment.
I am all for the French Revolution/United States Constitution kind of egalitarianism, the kind where you just have to say that the other guy’s human dignity is equally as important as your own; but how can one support this dangerous exercise in actual and practical egalitarianism, the kind that leads to things like participatory government and other atrocities, even on the small scale of a hockey dressing room? First of all, there’s the novelty of the whole thing: telling people they have the right to self-determination and giving them a “vote” is one thing, but actually involving the working classes in making decisions and having responsibilities seems to me to be dangerously novel and therefore obviously foolish. Secondly, it would seem that this governance model is entirely at odds with firmly established principles and democratic ideals. We all know that the correct route to sound democratic government involves nothing less than conferring blind trust and carte blanche upon our omnipotent superiors for extended periods of time.
Yes, yes, I know what you are thinking: you are going to throw something like the Buffalo Sabres’ 2003-2004 experiment in my face. You are going to tell me (as if I didn’t already know) that the Sabres did not have a team captain that year and argue that this Minnesota thing is not so newfangled as to be inherently suspicious. Gentle reader, you should know better! It is true that the Sabres that year did not have a single person chosen to direct and govern the actions of his fellow men, but this was not (as it is in the Minnesotan case) an attempt to turn an NHL dressing room into some kind of White Album Beatles hippie commune complete with bongos, acoustic guitars and other democracy-hating instruments. The Sabres rotated their captaincy among a specified number of people pre-designated as capable of leading, i.e. essentially the same way the American presidency is assigned. NHL teams have not adopted the additional extra-democratic wrinkle of restricting eligibility for the position to members of certain families, like the Americans have with their Presidents Bushes and Clintons, but this is only because there are a limited number of Sutters and Staals to go around. My point is that the ’03-’04 Sabres thought they could take the normal classic democratic model – entirely abdicating all responsibility for governance and decision-making to one individual for prolonged periods of time – and improve upon it by sharing the captaincy among five or six pre-designated individuals. They were, of course, absolutely wrong about that, and as a direct and inevitable consequence, they missed the playoffs and the entire NHL ceased operations for a year afterwards, just so everybody could get their shit together and try to avoid any further fiddling about with tried and true models of team governance.
NHL captains are supposed to be characters of biblical proportion, who like sportswriters and weathermen are possessed of great wisdom, with the strength of a Mandelbaum and the leadership abilities of Roger Staubach’s drill sergeant. Also, some (I’m looking at you, Mark Messier) can fly and shoot fire out of their eyes. You know, kind of like a less imposing version of Tom Brady. At least, that’s the way it’s supposed to be in the NHL; mere mortals such as Jon Klemm and Boyd Devereux get led by bona fide super-heroes such as Joe Sakic and Steve Yzerman. A mix-and-match, we-all-have-greatness-within-us, you-too-can-be-our-leader approach is fundamentally inconsistent with this simple (and therefore enduring and undeniably desirable) truth. I don’t know if I want to live in a world where Darby Hendrickson can be a team captain, even for just a little while. That’s a world in which we cease believing that our elected superiors are just that – superior – and in which we might consequently begin to doubt whether the arrangement is entirely appropriate and convenient. That’s a world in which revolution is not far away. In case you hadn’t already put two and two together, dear reader, Revolution is a song on the Beatles’ White Album. Coincidence? I think not.
So join me in urging the Minnesota Wild to reverse this dangerous practice now and name a permanent team captain.
By junior on January 19, 2008, at 11:30 pm Tomorrow’s two Conference Championship games promise to entertain and amuse. I am looking forward to the Chargers/Patriots AFC Championship, like every other football fan glued to the seemingly inexorable march of the Patriots towards another Super Bowl Championship. I know San Diego Mike and I will probably be on different sides of this issue, but I have to pull for the Patriots in this one. The Chargers will, I think, be stoked and highly motivated to play despite all their injury problems. They really seem to have come together as a team since they basically fell right off the radar screen after a woeful 0-2 start. It is apparent to me from some things I’ve read that the Chargers are still smarting a little about being ousted from the playoffs last year at the hands of the Bostonians. Unlike many people, I think the Chargers have a chance to actually win this game outright. Take the above-described historical motivation, add a little of the “us against the world” mentality that comes with being a 13 point underdog playing an undefeated opponent with a significant portion of the salary budget either sitting in the hospital or examining the particulars of their health insurance coverage very carefully, and then add to that the fact that in recent weeks at least three opponents have proven that New England’s defence is vulnerable over the middle with a commitment to the rushing game and a smart passing attack. The Chargers will need to avoid any self-destructive mistakes, but if they execute their defensive assignments to perfection, catch a break or two in the turnover battle or on special teams and manage to control the time of possession with either a healthy LT or his myriad of suddenly competent backups – they have a chance. The sad reality for the Bolts, though, is the sheer statistical improbability of all of those stars aligning. Predicted final score: Patriots 27, Chargers 20.
Despite the AFC game featuring an undefeated and undisputed Super Bowl favourite, the real fireworks will arguably saved for prime time, when Brett Favre and the Team for All Time (the Packers) take on some famous guy’s brother and the Team of the Moment (the Giants). This promises to be an intriguing matchup between a suddenly consistent and composed Eli Manning and Favre, the virtuoso of improvisation at the pivot position. The weather promises to add a little wrinkle that ought to make the game memorable (temperatures are expected to dip into the realm where car tires freeze kind of square). The fact that this game will be played on the NFL’s money nostalgia set, otherwise known as Lambeau Field just makes it all the better. There is a complicated space in my heart for Eli Manning: as a general proposition, I despise all sports teams based in New York City. Thus, a Giants loss is always a good thing in my books. The amount of unwarranted criticism that Eli Manning has taken from Giants fans fuelled by unrealistic expectations, however, keeps me rooting for him to succeed just enough to spite them and make them truly miserable. Eli has spent so much time being called upon to apologize for not being his brother and not being Tom Brady that you kind of wonder why he doesn’t just lose his shit on some of the reporters and columnists feeding the moronic frenzy by and inquiring in a profanity-laced tirade why they aren’t so indignant about, for example, Jeff Garcia’s failure to be Peyton Manning. According to my highly convoluted sports-affinity reasoning, therefore, it would be appropriate for Eli to do just well enough to make Giants fans miserable because they lost – but worse, because they were wrong, and obviously so, about him.
I can’t let the Eli situation and my private little sports feud with the people of the five boroughs get in the way of the Best Result Ever here, though. I must not devote any substantial psychic rooting energy to Eli Manning, lest that rooting mistakenly lead to a Giants victory over the Pack. Who wouldn’t watch a Packers/Patriots Super Bowl? What a game to remember Favre by, regardless of the result; unless he’s made some Chris Chelios-esque deal with Satan, you have to believe Favre’s days are numbered even considering the stats he put on the board this year. Throw into that game Tom Terrific, Moss, Welker, Maroney and the impenetrable shield that is the Pats’ offensive line, as well as the Packers’ young group of stars including Ryan Grant and the Biggest Stage in Sports is pretty much set up for a monumental confrontation on the order of the guitar wars at the end of Crossroads. Who will be the Ralph Macchio of this year’s NFL?
My prediction for the Packers/Giants game: Vince’s ghost, lunatic cheeseheads and car-battery commercial cold 23, Giants 16.
Update: AFC – Patriots win their 18th with no defeats, and along the way craft a tribute to Can-rockers Rush by ensuring that the final score was 21-12. NFC – Sorry to say it, but Brett Favre looked a lot like a lot of other senior citizens in the Wisconsin deep-freeze, i.e. a little bewildered about why the hell he wasn’t in Florida instead of freezing his ass off. Meanwhile, Eli played his butt off and managed to overcome some monumentally bad breaks (two missed field goals in the late going, not to mention the Giants’ interception that became a fumble). Result: Sorry Eli, notwithstanding my inner joy that you’ve proven your critics wrong, I have absolutely no hesitation whatsoever rooting for the Pats in Super Bowl XVII.
By junior on January 18, 2008, at 11:10 pm  It would appear that the long and arduous search for a homeland for our people has come to a conclusion; a tentatively successful conclusion, subject to some conditions that will be satisfied over the next week or so, and one contingency over which we can exert no influence, but a conclusion nonetheless. For the moment, however, it would appear that the Great Migration is about to commence. Spouse and I are, you know, completely terrified excited about that.
Also, we apparently got a nifty riding mower thrown into the bargain, so I’m pretty stoked. I may decide to refer to it as a “tractor”, y’know, just ’cause it’s more evocative of a noble peasantry, the kind of thing celebrated in Stalinist artwork; that’s me, cutting the lawn.
By junior on January 17, 2008, at 9:08 pm Can’t stop laughing at a line from Cox Bloc. In a post about a William Houston article suggesting that Hockey Night in Canada ditch the Leafs and televise the Senators instead, Godd Till writes:
Switching out the Leafs also might not go over well with Hockey Night advertisers. The chance to connect with a fanatically loyal fanbase which consumes the product with dedication and verve no matter how vile it tastes and how sick it makes you: that’s gotta be Molson’s target audience right there.
Meanwhile, the John Ferguson Jr. firing that is approaching will surprise no one. The papers here are printing stories to the effect that the Leafs have been granted permission by the Phoenix Coyotes to approach Cliff Fletcher about taking on interim General Manager gig. What a bush league maneuver by the organization; how mortifying it must be for JFJ to have to sit in his office and act all normal, as if everybody doesn’t know he should be packing his shit up and getting ready to go; must make for some awkward moments around the photocopier.
 You really have to wonder if this kind of thing has been going on for a while around the office, though. You know what I mean: suddenly, his lunch order starts coming back wrong when the gang orders take-out. In short order, nobody comes around to ask what JFJ wants for lunch at all and everybody “forgets” to mention that they collectively decided to go for Chinese. Next thing he knows, emails with near-humorous pictures of cats are being forwarded to every inbox but his, and nobody asks him to put a loonie in the lottery ticket pot. It’s all but over but the shouting, man. Please turn in your electronic access tag, and we’re going to need those Post-Its back.
By junior on January 16, 2008, at 1:46 pm Last night, Spouse and I unexpectedly ended up in a brief hiatus from our ongoing search for a new homeland that will satisfy the Known Requirements and Specifications for the Kingdom of Juniorvania.
This unexpected little time windfall prompted a spirited discussion concerning its proper and appropriate use, the history of which I shall detail for you below.
Option #1 – rapidly conceived, brilliant in its simplicity – was to go to the movies. this plan might have seemed like a no-brainer slam-dunk success to many an objective observer, given the sheer length of time since Spouse and I last actually attended the local Famous Players Gazillio-Plex and the fact that there is actually something playing there that we would both like to see (thus providing us with motive to undertake this operation). Those more discerning and observant readers among you will be familiar, however, with our general suspicion of, and discomfiture within, crowds of people, and might therefore rightly be suspicious of the chances of this plan’s successful implementation. Further, the insiders among you familiar with the lack of time recently spent by us in the immediate company of Popeye and Henry (our dog and his lawyer cat) would have immediately discounted this as a likely solution. Fundamentally incompatible with us, we had to break up with option #1 – though we shared some good times together – and move on. Click here to continue reading How my wife and I married the Lady in the Water
By junior on January 14, 2008, at 10:04 pm A friend of ours gave birth this morning to a healthy baby boy. Naturally, part of this evening was decreed by Spouse to include a go-to-the-mall, go-directly-to-the-mall, do-not-pass-go, definitely-do-not-collect $200 trip. The purpose of the excursion was to collect miniature versions of real people’s clothes to give to the child as a gift. It didn’t take long before an oh-so-cute little track suit with oh-so-cute cute little frogs was located, which track suit needed (naturally) to be augmented by the little shirt (navy and white stripes, also adorned with little frogs), and little white socks (or possibly wheel covers for a 1:64 scale model Camaro), yet again with the little frogs. The piece de resistance? Tiny little running shoes – size one, $19.95. No frogs, but get this: still cute as all get out.
I began gently mocking Spouse concerning the remarkable volume of baby clothing being purchased. It seems to me that if we ever do have a child of our own, it is likely (as a result of Spouse’s retail-related weaknesses) to be the only little gaffer ever to have need of a “toddle-in” closet.
I thought it was funny.
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