Bills 34, Patriots 31

I really didn’t think I’d get to post this. I didn’t want to jinx it, so I didn’t create the cartoon until the final score was recorded and in the books and the players were in the locker rooms. But, at long, long last, here it is:

Oh my, what a game! The Bills spotted the Patriots a 21-0 lead before they came roaring back, getting the jitters out and making it 21-10 before halftime. Then they made it 21-17 in the third, and when the fourth quarter dawned, it was Pats 24, Bills 17. Then the Bills put up 17 points to the Pats’ 7 in that quarter, and that’s all she wrote.

Much has been made in these parts of the Bills’ losing streak to the Pats. The Bills had lost fifteen consecutive games to the Pats, dating back to September 2003. Here’s my blog post from that game. My, how much water is under the bridge! George W. Bush was President. The Iraq War was about six months old. Unless you were unusually well-versed in Illinois state politics, you had no idea at all who Barack Obama was.

Little Quinn would not be born for nearly twelve months. We’d been living in Buffalo again (after our Syracuse winter) for five months. I hadn’t met a single other Buffalo blogger. The Daughter was four and was starting pre-school. The week after that game, The Wife and I went to see the hot new movie, Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl. We were still a few months from the theatrical release of The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, and I was starting to despair of ever finding a job: my first interview at The Store was still three months away. And while I’m honestly not sure, I think I had yet to reveal in this space my unhealthy obsession with overalls.

As for football stuff that’s happened since the last time the Bills walked away from the Pats with a victory? Well, the Buccaneers were the defending Super Bowl champions. Aaron Rodgers had yet to start his first game at Cal. The Bills’ head coach when they last beat the Pats was Gregg Williams; since then, Mike Mularkey and Dick Jauron would walk the sidelines before Chan Gailey. The Bills’ starting quarterback that day was Drew Bledsoe; since then, we’ve had the JP Losman and the Trent Edwards eras before finally arriving at Ryan Fitzpatrick.

Yeah, it’s been a while.

We were discussing this matchup at work the other day, a few friends and I, and I said, “I don’t want that one win back in ’03 to be the only time the Bills ever beat Brady. And I don’t want to not beat him until he’s 38 and clearly in physical decline. I want to beat him now.” Well, I got my wish. Hmmm…let me try that again. “I don’t want to write a publishable book when I’m 67 years old, I want to write one now!” Huh, I think my space-opera-in-progress just got better!

Some thoughts from the game:

::  Brady piled up big numbers, along with Wes Welker. So what? The Pats’ defense looks awful. They’ve been sliced-and-diced three weeks in a row now, and they’re only 2-1 because their offense is really good. Well, take it from a guy who remembers the Bills’ glory days, Pats fans: awesome offense that scores a lot plus crappy defense that stops nobody equals somebody else holding the Lombardi trophy.

::  The Bills’ defensive game plan appears to have been, “Let Welker get his catches, just don’t let him break a giant gain, and contain everybody else.” That’s pretty much what they did. Aside from their tight end, nobody other than Welker really stepped up for the Pats. They might want to look into that, because if the Pats think that Brady’s going to be putting up 400 yards a game all season, they’re deluded. Defenses are suffering now, all over the NFL, but they’re going to settle in sooner or later, as offensive players get dinged up and as defensive guys find their chemistry after an abbreviated preseason with no offseason workouts.

::  I really hope that since the Bills are doing well, CBS will decide that their games deserve an announcer upgrade. Marv Albert isn’t that good anymore, but Rich Gannon is awful. At one point, the Pats were lining up with first-and-goal, and he said — and I am not making this up — “Well, the Patriots have options here. They can either throw it or run it.” And it was funny to see his reactions to Tom Brady’s first two interceptions, as he made the case both times that they weren’t really St. Tom’s fault. This led me to comment on Twitter, “Brady could literally hand to ball to a defender and Gannon would blame Brady’s RB for not being there for the handoff”. Of course, after picks three and four — with the fourth one being run back for a TD — Gannon just didn’t talk at all. I guess he can’t decide what to say when something happens that is outside of his preferred narrative (in this case, the Godlike status of St. Tom the Overrated).

::  By the way, St. Tom sure showed a lot of heart on Drayton Florence’s pick-six, didn’t he? He just kind of jogged toward him but made no effort whatsoever to actually knock him out of bounds and maybe, just maybe, prevent him from scoring.

::  I love comebacks, but I wish the Bills would figure out how to play well in the first quarter too.

::  The Bills still need to improve on the pass rush. Their run defense has improved greatly, but the pass D still needs some help from the front seven to rush the passes.

::  The Bills’ offensive line, which had fans terrified during preseason, gave up zero sacks and largely played very well in pass protection and in a fairly productive running game.

Next week, the Bills are at Cincinnati, which may be an interesting game. The Bills and Bengals don’t play every year, so the streak doesn’t include nearly as many games as the Bills’ skid against the Patriots, but the Bengals have not beaten the Bills since the two teams met in the AFC Championship Game after the 1988 season. Last year, the Bills trailed the Bengals by 17 before beating them by 18. Giddyup!

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Sunday Burst of Weird and Awesome

Oddities and Awesome abound!

::  This may be the best news story I will ever read. Seriously. How can it not be, with a lede like this?

In all his years in Brazilian law enforcement, police chief Marconi Almino de Lima had never faced a case like this: a sordid tale of love, jealousy, a contract killer and kitchen condiments.

Seriously, that is just awesome. This story screams out to be used on an episode of CSI Miami. I can even hear the dialog:

“Horatio…is this…ketchup?”

“Yes it is, Frank. And we [puts on sunglasses] are gonna bring the mustard.”

[SMASH CUT with ROGER DALTREY SCREAM to OPENING CREDITS]

::  Ever wonder what the concert posters might have looked like for the Muppets’ Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem? Well, wonder no more! These are terrific. (Thanks to SamuraiFrog for pointing these out.)

::  I love Buffalo, but there’s now way Buffalo is cool enough to have installed these on the Metro Rail cars.

More next week!

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Saturday Centus

This week we are given more words — 150 of ’em — but we are limited to dialog only, which is always a fun approach to storytelling. I’ve got Firefly on the brain lately, so here’s something that could happen in the ‘Verse. A bit macabre, I know, but I’ve done the chipper thing a lot lately. I’m a couple words over the limit, but what can I say, I’m a rule-breaker by nature.

“This is the Captain. All lifepods
have been jettisoned at full capacity, so twelve hundred of our
passengers and crew will live. For you six hundred who have chosen to
remain on the ship, I must inform you that we expect our oxygen
reserves to reach zero in approximately fifty-seven minutes. May God
have mercy on all our souls.”
“Alright, then. Less than an hour
to live.”
“Hadda die sometime. Gotta love
these old rustbucket spaceliners, huh?”
“Helluva way to go.”
“Nah. I’ll kill you before we run
out of air.”
“What?!”
“You wanna die gaspin’, tryin’ to
breathe? Gimme a blaster to the brainpan any day over that. One for
you and then one for me.”
“Thanks.”
“Call it a last birthday present.
Hey, bar bot!”
Are you seriously ordering
another martini?
“Wanna die sober?”
“Don’t wanna die at all.”
“Yeah, well, that ain’t in the
cards. Dyin’ in the black ain’t so bad, though.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Cheers.”

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Tapping the Mike

Sorry about the lack of posts the last few days, but there’s been stuff going on (not horrible stuff, just stuff), including: a 4:30 am start at work yesterday, a mild cold that’s settled into my head nicely, and a horrible thing done by the state of Georgia. Haven’t been much in the mood.

But bad moods don’t stick around forever, thank God….

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“Let’s pee in the corner!”

Apparently REM has called it quits as a band. Stop it, Yoko! It’s not funny anymore!

Seriously, though, I’ve always rather liked REM, although they were never a huge favorite of mine. I have a few CDs of theirs around here somewhere, but I am in no way whatsoever familiar with the majority of their output. But I did always like what I heard from them. My favorite song of theirs was “Everybody Hurts”:

But my very favorite thing REM ever did was actually this:

Best wishes, REM! Let the reunion rumors commence!

(For those baffled by the post title, this ought to clear it up.)

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Books without exploding spaceships are pointless crap.

My Summer of Space Opera continues!
:: Iain M. Banks’s ongoing series of space operas set in The Culture – hence the term, the “Culture Novels” – still represent mostly a rich field of unsurveyed reading for me, but I’ve at least knocked off another of them: Consider Phlebas. This is actually the first-written of the Culture novels, but, after Player of Games, the second I’ve read. My understanding is that the Culture novels mostly comprise stand-alone stories, so reading order may not matter all that much, although I do plan to mostly stick with the publication order, as much as I can.
Consider Phlebas tells the story of Bora Horza Gobuchul, a “Changer” – an alien who can take on the appearance of other humanoid beings – who is actually working for the Idiran Empire during their galaxy-spanning war against the Culture. He is rescued by the Idirans, who task him with recovering a Culture Mind (a disembodied intelligence) that has stranded itself on one of the Planets of the Dead. Gobuchul’s pursuit of his mission is pretty singular-minded, and along the way, he commits a large number of acts that fall into various places on the moral spectrum. This moral ambiguity on the part of the protagonist makes the book compelling in an interesting way, as Banks makes it hard to root against Gobuchul even as he is doing things that are, admittedly, less-than-moral.
The other notable aspect of the book, fitting enough for a space opera, is the Big Epic Scope of the thing. This is “widescreen” SF at its finest, with intelligent spaceships being flown into and out of artificial constructs that are so big it becomes difficult to imagine some of them. The morals of war are called into question, as well, as one such enormous object – called an Orbital – is slated for destruction by the Culture for no other reason than the fact that they have deemed it too hard to strategically defend, so therefore, it must be destroyed before the Idirans can capture it.
Consider Phlebas is very fast-paced, moving from one set-piece to the next fairly quickly, which is nice because there are a couple of set-pieces – most notably, the cannibal-cult Gobuchul finds himself captured by – that are a bit distasteful.
:: I’ve mentioned before that, in terms of genre classification, we have “space opera”, which obviously involves at least a good portion of the story taking place in space. For stories that are similar in feel and scope to space opera but mainly stay on a single planet – Burroughs’s “John Carter of Mars” novels are good examples – we have the term “planetary romance”.
I’m at a loss, though, as to what to call Ryk E. Spoor’s novel Grand Central Arena, which takes place primarily neither in space nor on a planet. Spoor creates something else, an incredibly vast setting, called…”The Arena”. It’s here that his story plays out. Spoor’s dedication of the novel – to E.E. “Doc” Smith – indicates as much as anything what he is up to here: he is writing a novel of Grand Adventure.
As the novel opens, humans are about to test their very first faster-than-light drive, in a spaceship called the Holy Grail (heh – FTL travel being, of course, the ‘holy grail’ of SF writers). A crew of eight is selected (for their various skills, of course), led by pilot Ariane Austin, who becomes the de facto Captain when the ship emerges from supralight speed into…something. Something bigger than huge; something impossibly vast, which, as they explore, turns out to be full of thousands, if not millions, of other alien species. It turns out that someone has configured things such that any time a species attempts FTL travel, they end up in the Arena, a place where interactions between species can be influenced and controlled by unknown benefactors, where allegiances can be formed and enimites fostered. Their first ally describes the Arena thusly:

It is a place where we all meet and challenge, where bargains are made and broken and avenged, where an alliance may be built on blood and fortune. It is a place where faith is lost, and where religions are founded or proven true. It is where you shall confront, and be confronted by, truths and lies, enemies and allies, belief and denial, impossibility and transcendence.

So, of course, our heroes venture forth and meet many beings, some of whom are allies, some of whom seem to be allies but are really enemies, some of whom seem to be enemies but are really allies, some of whom are enemies outright, and some who just don’t seem to care one way or the other. Grand Central Arena is loaded with scope and scale, as well as action, intrigue, and a bit of romance, as well. There are more than a few moments of the “Ye Gods, how do they get out of this!” variety. It’s a long novel – nearly 700 pages – but with the exception of a few infodumps along the way, the book is mostly very kinetic in nature as crisis begets crisis begets crisis, with very real and likeable characters (including one fellow with a shadowy past who is literally superhuman, in positive and negative ways). I’ve never been terribly fond of describing a book as a “page-turner”, but that descriptor is very apt for Grand Central Arena.

And yes, the title of this post is a joke. Yeesh, people!

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Answers, the seventh!

Continuing to answer queries from Ask Me Anything! August 2011….

Lynn has a couple of good ones:

Imagine that Star Wars, Star Trek, and Firefly do not exist. What would be your favorite space opera?


Wow, this is a very tough question. Those are some of the big space opera franchises, aren’t they? Without the first two, I’m not sure I even have a deep love of space opera to begin with. And Firefly is just all kinds of great, even if it is a bit uneven at times.

I think that my favorite space opera outside of those would be a literary one — but, which one? For mind-blowing hugeness, you can’t go much wrong with the “Commonwealth” novels of Peter J. Hamilton. (Thus far I have only read Pandora’s Star and Judas Unchained.) And I’ve loved what I’ve read thus far of Lois McMaster Bujold’s Miles Vorkosigan stories. And there are the Lensmen novels of E.E. ‘Doc’ Smith…which I need to continue reading one of these days.

Favorite? I suppose I’d go with the Commonwealth novels. It’s the universe I’d most want to live in: traveling to distant worlds via train, the conquering of death without a whole lot of Singularity weirdness, and, of course, space ships galore.

Lynn also asks: If you could live on any of the Firefly worlds for the rest of your life, which would you choose?


Probably Ariel. I’m a city guy, I think. Not a big fan of the Alliance, though….

More to come…wrapping it up next time, I promise!

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YARRRR!!!

Today was Talk Like a Pirate Day, which is always fun. I mostly observe this on Facebook by, well, talking like a pirate all day, and posting YouTube videos of piratey stuff. Here are the items I posted:

Yarrr, I love me some pirates!

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