Fools Rule: On Shlemmings.


Posted on February 28th, by batmandela in Fools Rule. 3 comments

Gunner Toast

This is not a blog about ticket price hikes and how they reflect the insensitivity of a profitable institution towards its loyal fanbase.

It’s not about how Arséne Wenger’s apparent tightfistedness and shortsightedness may lead to his undoing. I also don’t want to discuss the rumour that he has a contract ready-signed, and that the club is just waiting for an opportune moment to ram it down our throats – a Sagna/Rosicky contract renewal announcement, for instance.

I’m not interested in writing about how ironic it is that our star signing initiated the collapse of our Champions League campaign with his second consecutive (lackadaisical) CL PK miss.

And – while I’m not at it – I’m also not convinced that Arsenal can repeat last season’s performance in the upcoming return fixture at the Allianz Arena. As Heraclitus said, “A man cannot cross the same river twice.” Besides – as fantastic as last year’s heroic failure might have been, Bayern Munich did appear to be resting on their laurels somewhat. (At least until the second goal.) I doubt that they’ll make the same mistake twice.

So I’m certainly not wasting my time writing about that!

The latest rumours about Morata having already signed a contract and joining The Arsenal in the summer make me want to puke. I have no desire to fuel the transfer fire. Not in February. Not even in July. I’m not that kinda blogger.

If you’re looking for a blog that tells you how wonderful Mesut Özil is… insisting that he’s the assistiest player in the premier league, with the disclaimer that it’s his first season, and generally intimating that you are ignorant for suggesting that he’s not pulling his formidably costly weight (.lb for £)… this is not it.

Oh – and although it is probably worth exploring – I’m not going to do an in-depth exposé on the one aspect of football in which Arsenal appears to excel, consistently, year-in, year-out: injuries. When it comes to finding fragile players, we’re top’o’the’league. We also know how to keep ’em injured longer. Heck! We even sign ’em when they’re injured.

Want statistical evidence to support my claims? Well, I can’t be arsed to find it for you. So I just won’t blog about it.

If you need analysis about how our

  • …lack of runners will kill our title hopes,
  • …lack of a decent (backup) striker will kill our title hopes,
  • …lack of squad depth will kill our title hopes,
  • …lack of a true defensive midfielder will kill our title hopes,
  • …lack of silverware for eight seasons will kill our title hopes,

then you’ve come to the wrong place. I don’t do tactics.

 

“Training Ground Punch-Up”

“Skank Gets Striker Sidelined”

“Future Tense: Arsenal Players At Each Other’s Throats”

 

You’ll never see headlines like that on this blog. I’m no Piers Morgan. Hack.

Want to know how much money we have to splurge this summer? Want me to ramble swissly through our finances – and show how wasteful Wenger is, with his Neo-Socialist wage structure? Or delve into our new sponsorship deals? Sorry – I’m afraid I can’t comment on matters fiscal. I can barely balance a beggar’s budget.

My Little Chelsea

My Little Chelsea

I’m also no expert on betting. I couldn’t tell my acca from my beard. I can’t give you the odds on My Little Chelski winning the league. Or who’ll spit first (or furthest) in the Stoke v Citeh clash. If lotteries are really a tax for the mathematically-challenged, then gambling is for those with brass balls and a disposable income.

I should imagine it’s also pretty addictive: once you’re hooked, you’re always looking for a fix. I don’t have the nerve for it. Or the wallet.

At this stage, you’re probably wondering what this blog IS about, then – if it’s NOT about all that other stuff…

It’s a blog about tedium. Saturation. Predictability and conjecture. It’s about hype and hyperbole; style over substance. And addiction.

We’re all addicts, us Gooners. We soak up hundreds of blogs daily – all saying the same thing: nothing. Stuck records turned up to eleven. We’re sheep. Lemmings.

Shlemmings. A great big follow-back Oroboros love-train on a circular track, going round and round on a trip to nowhere. Voraciously devouring the mental equivalent of Diet Wonderbread toasties.

Every day a new blog, a new pod. Arsenal ad infinitum.

Please. Someone. Make. It. Stop!

 

 

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3 responses to “Fools Rule: On Shlemmings.”

  1. avatar Vinay says:

    Absolutely brilliant, if only people get away from their key boards and understand how the real world and the footballing world works, we wouldnt have had to have a crisis heading everytime.

  2. avatar Ray from Norfolk, Virginia says:

    Inviciblog:
    I have missed you, but still, there is this comment about the Little Pony: yours looks like a Bambi Unicorn; is it intended?

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