Wednesday, March 24, 2010

History, Game 8, 2009 Season

Referencing June 17th, 2009

    The midway point. A milestone, a water mark to compare to seasons past, all one of them. Winning some, learning some, fairly awesome but weary of things to come!

    Because of our success, the paranoia took hold, figuring everyone would be gunning for us come the second half of the season, so in preliminary strike fashion, it was acknowledged BEFORE the second half even began. Take that. So the propaganda poster is indeed as simple as it looks: We are the target of the might of the league. Pure paranoia. *sigh*.
    Not to say these delusions of attack didn't come from somewhere! Here are the inspirations for comparison...

    The quote that needs little explanation and meant for inspiration, comes from Mao in a selection of works called "Serve the People", Volume III. Like all of us, he had his moments. Too bad they were offset by numerous instances of monumental "Huh? He did what?!". Extreme narcissism'll do that.  Poster= done!

    Now the bulk of this particular entry came from the plethora of nicknames that got introduced before the break. A collective effort in this match for sure! But first...

Historical blah blah blah:
    The original 5 Year Plan was the Soviet Union's attempt to rapidly develop the economy. There were more, each focusing on some aspect, the first couple focusing on industry. After the Soviets, everybody just had to have their own __ Year Plan.
    The Red Brigade is a lefty little group of terroristic boys and girls out of Italy that did most of their damage in the 70's and 80's. There might be a few still kickin' around doin' crimes. Like going to get sushi and not paying.
    Ahh, the Great Leap Forward. This was ours in an kind of happening real life little football world kinda way. But as TDFC18 points out the reality of the actual inception... "Mao believed that the communist revolution would become realized through a 'great leap forward' when the people would finally 'get' it and the owners would be toppled...OH, and he thought it'd be global, too. Nice cloud talk, but about as smart as when he decided to kill all those birds, and pests ate all the crops. Oh Mao. When will you learn?"

The nickname game explodes! A dirty dozen of devil debutantes:
    TDFC27- gets dubbed AK 47! The Soviet machine gun of choice, sturdy and reliable, but sometimes has an unpredictable misfire.
    TDFC2- add 'ski' and you have instant nobility or generic ruski!
    TDFC16- Sickled and Hammered! Pre game condition from the night before usually, a play on the hammer and sickle of the Soviet Union. And as we have been taught by Dutch hardcore band Colt Turkey, the hammer hits hard and the sickle cuts deep!
    TDFC23- a logical play on names with the addition of 'Pot', and nothing more than that is to be gleaned. His second nickname, if your keeping score at home!            TDFC22 (who has been the recipient of a fair amount of blunt force trauma to the dome) seems to think there is a visual resemblance between the squat, sicko deceased Cambodian leader of the Khmer Rouge, and our tall, upstanding Irish midfielder. Ehhh, you make the call. Go here and you get a Pol Pot photo with a free factoid. That guy was crazy crazy crazy.
    TDFC28- Ivan Drago. There is really no explanation. But it's funny.
    TDFC5- The Ministry of Housing! It's, like, what he does. For real.
    TDFC32- The Ministry of Virtue? Autonomous doublethink, plain and simple.
    TDFC29- Commisar of Kommissars to our club! Yes it is what you think it is.
    TDFC4- the mighty use of artistic license and legend along with some ruski style retro fitting, and you get Mikhail Baldwinovich! And that's a tall order.
    TDFC18- The Red! Always has been, always will be. Respek.
    TDFC21- his obsession with A.C. Milan spawned the russianized alteration of Antonio Gramsci, to Gramski, but still alludes to the Italian Marxist intellectual who butted heads with the fascists of his time.
    TDFC19- given the byname of a KGB Agent due to his 'jobs' of doing 'nothing really' in the middle of 'nowhere'. Like a spy.
Alright. Decompress. Full brain. Be champions!

Diavolo numero tredici del Tartan
(no picture available at time of press)

Saturday, March 20, 2010

History, Game 7, 2009 Season

Referencing June 7th, 2009

    Allright wrestling fans! More in your face extreme blogging! Not really. We don't drink Mountain Dew.

About the propaganda poster...
    Ohhhhhh another Lenin rip off! Not the jerk from the Beatles, the jerk from Russia. The chiseled I don't know what (aura?), the intensity, the dramatic bar of light across the eyes... are they following me? More spot on diligence from TDFC6 morphing our Tartan Devil to suit!
    Now here's the deal: at this point, the season was going very well and opposing sides seemed to not share in our glory. It seemed very necessary to represent ourselves as an unwanted disease, an infiltration into the league. Using the Subhumans' (an English punk band from Warminster in Wiltshire) song 'Germ' ( for more inspiration, instead of a quote from the Vladster seemed to be the way to go.
    Real quick about Warminster: In the 60's and 70's, there weren't enough people living there to manifest visual phenomenon, so everybody just heard stuff. Weird noises. Unexplained weird noises, they called the strange aural vibes The Thing. It took the resulting swarm of ufologist to convince everybody they should be seeing unexplained things too, to go with their unexplained sounds. And they did! Sightings in the thousands over those years. There ya go, the UFO hoo-ha in a small town. No charge.
Now the writing...
    A TDFC13, 18, and 22 co-lab-er-a-shun! You got yer sideways comments, toilet humor, and truths all in one glorious package!
The Jabs:
    Epoxy was not only a comment on the strange plasticine sheen of the grass, but on the world of suburbia itself, Cranberry in this case.
    "Disruptions of strip mall proportions" while referring to the excellent play of TDFC5, also hinted at the condition of sprawl in the area.
The Potty Mouth:
    Full Frontal anything is all like, heh, heh.
    We will assume the obvious Dick's need no explanation or revisitation.
    Apologies to TDFC33 for sullying his two goal feat by referring to it as "a deuce".
    "Cleats up, lumpen proles down" is a take on the popular phrase that the kids are using these days. A real life misogynist thoughtcrime.
The Facts:
    We let up with a two goal lead. The functional and educational bit from Mao summed up the lesson and was taken from Selected Military Writings of Mao Tsetung, in a letter from the Front Committee to the Central Committee on guerilla tactics. Stay on the attack!
    Our division really is wrought with capitalists, imperialists and fascists.
    And TDFC16 really did score a goal. It went in, not over! I know!
    There! All better, just a little prick! Now that you've had your medicine you'll be able to sleep through those nasty thoughtcrimes you've been having.

Monday, March 15, 2010

History, Game 6, 2009 Season

Referencing May 31st, 2009


    Onward in the quest to lend clarity to the sometimes historical, sometimes inside, always worthwhile TDFC game reports of last year. OK, it was out of boredom waiting for the 2010 season to start that this whole 'History' interlude manifested. Whatever. Go freshen up, get a drink, sit down. You love it.

    This bears mentioning before it's forgotten: While the http address up top sends you to the original post, the poster for the game being reported on is always in the previous post, so you have to go back to check it out to see what the hell is being talked about if there isn't a side by side comparison happening. Refreshing the memory makes it all make so much more sense!
    This games prop-poster was pure homage* (see side note at end) to our home base of operations, the pubbiest of pubs, the place where fashion and function meet, Piper's Pub (!!! Drew is a good guy; to his family, customers, the hired help, visitors and regulars. His wish for a pub team coming after The Pub morphed over the years into what it was always destined to be: A public house that's a little bit family, a little bit friends. Always welcoming, generally bustling, but sometimes moments of solitude that are just as familiar. Honest and simple, yet layered with the complexities of the traditions of all. Character and the banter to back it up. You can have a building and a name, it will be just that. You need the people that are there to serve you and the people that come in, blurring the lines of customer/acquaintance/friend in a mutual, respectful atmosphere, to make it what it is!
    Poster content. Reaaady... GO! More solid work from the soon to be legendary abfu Design team. Pipers are mirrored on either side of a beer engine pump clip designed for the Pub. Glooooorious rays emanating up and highlighting the badge of your Local Pub Heroes! In the middle of history in the making, is history already made. It comes in the form of a quote from a letter written by a Scottish socialist upon his release from jail for anti-war activity during WWI. His name was John MacLean.
    Good standing with Mama Russia got him appointed Bolshevik consul in Scotland. Soon after he was on trial for sedition. His dry wit spilling over to the proceedings when asked if he objected to any of the jurors, replied "I object to the whole lot of them." His passion evident as he addressed that same jury before being sentenced in the pokey: "I wish no harm to any human being, but I, as one man, am going to exercise my freedom of speech. No human being on the face of the earth, no government is going to take from me my right to speak, my right to protest against wrong, my right to do everything that is for the benefit of mankind. I am not here, then, as the accused; I am here as the accuser of capitalism dripping with blood from head to foot!" That being said, artistic license is at work here and we would really like you to continue coming to the Pub and buying our gear. We're not so much the dripping in blood side of capitalism. Thank you.
Not actually related.
A snob.
    The writing this time is attributed to TDFC18. He makes mention of proles, pure Orwellian slang for the proletariat, the workers... the us. It is fitting that this approach was taken from the beginning. We were up against a team angered by relegation, with a preconceived notion on how things were supposed to be. Above it all, it seemed. Above lil' ol' us fer sure.      The same Orwellian approach is used later on. The Ministry of Education and "re-education". The idea of being "taught the correct way" in matters of cultural re-evaluation and counter-revolutionary attitudes is something that most arbitors of social engineering have dabbled in. We are no different in that regard.
    The skinny on collective v. individualism, a la tongue in cheek, crossed with truth, crossed with a sort of resignation: "There follows a mention of 'the collective' and how said collective predetermines its fate. The notion here is that we as a team of the glorious people's creation are a collective structure. We disavow the decadent and ridiculous class hierarchy prevalent in so many organizations. That said, LONG LIVE THE CAPTAINS, THE DEAR LEADER, THE CHAIRMAN AND THE PUB BENEFACTOR. See how that works? As I was saying, the power of the people's collective is strong and the predetermination of our own fate, if even for educational purposes is sometimes necessary. Again, more Orwellian rewriting of history! It happend the WAY WE WANTED it to... NO MATTER THE OUTCOME." Preach it comrade!
    Now there is the mention of the 'Pub Stasi'. This is derived from the East German secret police, who were horrible dicks and said to have been everywhere during the Soviet era. On your block, at your job, in your school, the apartment next door (again an idea Orwell hammered home)... Here a Stasi, there a Stasi, everywhere... you get the rest. The People's Team learned the opines of our foes through our eyes and ears on the other side of the pitch! Hence was born our secret police, the much cooler, Pub Stasi. Snitches, hold the stitches. Power to the Party!

    A little reverent, a little indignant, this installment. I'll leave you with a chuckle and then give you something to think about til next time we get all Orwellian!
    * (this is the side note at the end) Homage: ORIGIN Middle English Old French, from medieval Latin hominaticum, from Latinhomo, homin- ‘man’ (the original use of the word denoted the ceremony by which a vassal declared himself to be his lord's “man”). Who knew?
    And from the well of inspiration, 1984:

"In the end the Party would announce that two and two made five, and you would have to believe it. It was inevitable that they should make that claim sooner or later: the logic of their position demanded it. Not merely the validity of experience, but the very existence of external reality, was tacitly denied by their philosophy. The heresy of heresies was common sense. And what was terrifying was not that they would kill you for thinking otherwise, but that they might be right. For, after all, how do we know that two and two make four? Or that the force of gravity works? Or that the past is unchangeable? If both the past and the external world exist only in the mind, and if the mind itself is controllable—what then?"

Pleasant dreams!