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Archive for "Jun 10 2010"

Government Motors Wants to Commit Industrial Suicide

THIS is what happens when teh gubbmint gets involved in business decisions: some jackhole looks at the world and sees it exactly ass backwards. via @baseballcrank, we were pointed toward this tasty morsel of abject insanity:

Bye-bye, indeed, Miss American Pie. If General Motors has its way, you won’t be driving your Chevy to the levee ever again.

On Tuesday, G.M. sent a memo to Chevrolet employees at its Detroit headquarters, promoting the importance of “consistency” for the brand, which was the nation’s best-selling line of cars and trucks for more than half a century after World War II.

And one way to present a consistent brand message, the memo suggested, is to stop saying “Chevy,” though the word is one of the world’s best-known, longest-lived product nicknames.

“We’d ask that whether you’re talking to a dealer, reviewing dealer advertising, or speaking with friends and family, that you communicate our brand as Chevrolet moving forward,” said the memo, which was signed by Alan Batey, vice president for Chevrolet sales and service, and Jim Campbell, the G.M. division’s vice president for marketing.

As is noted in the article, this lunatic notion is patently unpossible; Americans long ago took possession of this section of GM’s product line, and there is no way we are ever gonna give it back. It is ingrained in our DNA. The name don’t belong to you anymore.

The Boss didn’t name check a Corvette. He didn’t even say the likely candidate, “Chevelle”….

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On Pucks, Refs, and Never Bet Against An Original Six


Wife™: “They’re skating the other way….”


Chicago won this game the minute that dumbfuck ref called Hossa for allegedly bumrushing the Flyer’s goalie when it was obvious he was ridden into the crease. The look on his face when he went into the box told me everything I need to see; I told Wife™, “He is gonna go batshiat the minute he’s out of the box.”

Wife™: “What do you mean?”

ME: “The penalty should have been on the guy who ran him into the net. You wait; he’s gonna line somebody up and try taking their head off after that kinda bullshit call. And then he is gonna make them pay. If I was him I’d run their fucking goalie straight into the back of his net and then shove a puck up his ass.”

Wife™: “You said they can’t hit goalies.”

ME:Legally. To a certain fault line, after that, anybody can hit anybody; it’s the whole point of the game. They drew those new jackass lines all around the net and changed the handling rules so at this point I know no goalie is ever again gonna score a goal and I’m not really sure just WTF they can do anymore; I know they can’t chase anything down in a corner, but other than that, I really don’t know anymore. But they didn’t make the goalie immune. And it seems to be “unable to beat the shit out of anybody standing in his crease” is also in these new rules.”

Wife™: “They used to be able to check goalies? Check them like other players? The way they crash into each other? They could hit goalies like that? That doesn’t seem fair.”

ME: “We use to have a dinky little box in front of the goal line, same size as the net. We step out of that box, you can clobber us. We go on a tour into the corner? You could kill us. But it would start a war. Now these new rules would make Billy Smith puke. Under new rules, a goalie will probably never again score a goal unless the other team goes totally coma. Goalies used to be able to be third defensemen if they could skate and handle a stick; I could never get away with my game these days. They’d call Karbowski ‘out of bounds’ or some such bullshit. I used to roll out holy hell close to the red line when it was down in the other end.”

Wife™: “And that’s why you think Chicago will win?”

ME: “No. You watch the replay. It looked like a total homer call and all it did was piss that guy off. I hate the fucking Flyers and reveled when Gillies and Nicky beat Dave Shultz’s ass straight to the pavement, , but now that 81 guy hates them even worse, his teammates are righteously pissed off, and when you come down to it, the Flyers roster sucks once you get passed Pronger and that other thug dick….”

As some of you may know, me and hockey have, one may say, a history. I consider it the greatests of games God ever allowed created… and God didn’t figure out He Screwed Up until it was too late and the Canadiens migrated it and next thing you know, “Do You Believe In Miracles?” is a generational linchpin (If Al Michaels’s call doesn’t remind you of everything good and pure, you are dead to me, you dirty rotten Commie…)

Of course, just as many of the brain-dead who furtively vote for “American Idol” assholes-yet don’t buy their albums once they are off the show-a grand collective who suddenly thought hockey was cool immediately cooled when introduced to the what I call “The Puck’s Rules Rule.”

Hockey is a Pissed Off Mom (No Palin jokes; Mom Lynch will track you down and make you her bitch). And She haz ROOLZ.

RULE: Hockey is the only game that tells players, “Here’s Some Technical Stuff: You Can Do This, But Can’t Do THAT: Now You Are On Your Own.”

RULE: Hockey is the only team sport that I am aware of that flat-out cannot be “PC corrected.” Hockey will fucking kill you; WHOEVER YOUR MAMMA OR DADDY WAS; that’s the beauty off it; hockey, in all, better-than you douchabags–honesty, Does not “really give a fuck.”

Let’s go on….

  • You cannot tell hockey players they can’t keep score. I was a goalie; believe me: we know. And all you “Don’t keep score!” jackass parents? We write your losers’ totals in fucking stone, then bury it right next door to your cemetery stone, because Williamsport might ask us for records when we resurrect their zombie asses, and every one of those kids exactly know the numbers. You fuckers are delusional thinking Humans who Know How To Count will not keep score.
  • .You cannot tell hockey players to hold back. Only the Dead play for a draw; extra-time is called “Sudden Death” for a very specific reason;
  • You cannot tell hockey players to not retaliate: we wear knives on our feet and carry clubs in our hands. This entire thing is about beating your brother rough and getting a hand up until the final whistle blows… and then we shake hands.

And that’s why hockey is better than all you other bastards. We have it written into our DNA that at the finale of trying to kill each other, you are ORDERED to STFU and shake your enemy’s hand.

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