It's called a "Power Hour" for a reason

So, a week after I declared the Titans to be worse off than the rock-bottom Broncos, the Titans and Jeff Fisher agree to part ways. Clearly, once Bud Adams realized he had lost the support of the EMPH and its vital Azerbaijani fan base, he had to sack Fisher as a means of appeasement. Personally, I am surprised that Bud Adams is going to be rid of both Vince Young and Fisher. I had been told that, at 88 years young, Bud Adams had adopted the pharaonic management technique. Like the kings of Ancient Egypt, Bud Adams was going to be entombed with his worldly possessions and his servants, so that he may carry both with him to the afterlife. Adams has succeeded in dragging the Titans to the grave (all that's left is to construct a pyramid over LP Field, which can't be too far off), but I'm surprised that he isn't going to entomb Fisher & Young with himself. By the way, the first sign that LP Field will be converted into a giant pyramid will be talk of adding a retractable roof. So keep an eye out for that.

Now, some people may be concerned that my blog wields power enough to ride the most tenured (and serially mediocre) coach in the NFL and that I would be driven mad with power. Well, first let me state that I went mad a long time ago. Although that statement seems to imply there was a period in my life when I was not crazy. In fact, let me state emphatically that anyone who claims I was normal at some point is a slanderous cretin out to disparage my name. But I digress. The important thing is that the amount of madness will remain unchanged.

Despite my blog's new found career-destroying powers, I am not content. There's an even greater threat than Pharaoh Adamsotep and I am powerless to stop it. I speak of the worst month of the year, the annual blight on our calendars that no one can stop: February.



"What's so bad about February?" some of my snarkier readers may ask. "It's the shortest month of the year. What could possibly be so bad about it?" But that's exactly why February is so dangerous. Despite being upwards of 9.6% shorter than most months (except on dreaded leap years), February is able to inflict more abuse and terror than any other month. In fact, I am convinced civilization would have crumbled long ago if February had 31 days. But rather than ramble on about the evils of February, I shall expatiate on my convictions in bulletin form (the latter half of that sentence was brought to you by Thesaurus.com).

1. Even the Romans knew to hate February

In an unrelated story, Blogger has made adding images much, much simpler.

Most months have simple to explain origins to their names. July was named after Julius Caesar, because he really set the gold standard in being assassinated in Imperial Rome. August was named after his nephew, Augustus Caesar, because he set the gold standard in not being assassinated in Imperial Rome. But February comes from the festival of Februa, which celebrated the god of purification, Februus. I should also add that Februus was also the god of death and malaria (and, therefore, malarial deaths). So there you have it, February is named after the god responsible for horrible mosquito-based disease for which there is no cure and to which the only immunity is sickle cell anemia. Clearly, the ritual purification was done to avoid the terrifying wrath of Februus, in hopes that his tiny, blood sucking minions would be merciful.

2. Groundhog Day sets us up for disappointment

You're probably wondering if I mean the delightful Bill Murray Comedy "Groundhog Day" or the actual meaningless holiday that was celebrated today. The answer is "both". I blame the comedy for showing us that the path to happiness is get infinite do-overs until we live one day perfectly. I blame the actual holiday for celebrating a glorified woodchuck (or, as it is known in some regions, the land-beaver). But the official groundhog prophecy is a catch-22. If the groundhog sees its shadow, then it returns to its subterranean fortress and will emerge when it's not February anymore. And it means the rest of us will endure six more weeks of Februarian conditions. If the groundhog doesn't see its shadow, we'll supposedly get an early spring. But the only way the groundhog won't see its shadow is if its a cloudy day. And February only knows how to do cloudy days one way: gray, cold, and miserable. So even if we get an early spring, February will compensate by being all the more horrible.

3. Black Hole of Entertainment

There are an awful lot of Romans in my blog today.

First, February is the single worst month for sports in the entire year, even counting the Super Bowl (by the way, GO STEELERS). The Super Bowl only lasts for a few glorious hours and then there's nothing until March Madness. There's no baseball, no football, and no NBA (which is still in its 82 game preseason that determines which half of the league plays in the regular season). But it gets worse. The paucity of entertainment spreads across all media. Not only are there no good sports on (save for the occasional decent pre-March Madness basketball game), but no good video games come out , no potentially good television shows start, and virtually no good movies come out (with the sole exception of The Eagle, which looks really cool). Even though there have been a surge of great video games in the first quarter of the year recently (such as Mass Effect 2 and God of War 3), they've come out in January and March. So, between the Super Bowl and The Eagle, I'm looking at a solid six hours of entertainment in February. That leaves me with 362 hours to fill where I'm not working or sleeping.

I could go on, but I've already crossed the thousand word threshold. Plus, I figure making another blog post will eat up another hour of the ongoing slow torture called February.