I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past me I will turn to see fear's path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

There should be a science of discontent. People need hard times and oppression to build psychic muscles.

-Frank Herbert, from the novel "Dune"

These particular quotes have been helpful. I've had a particularly bad run as of late. Never mind the stunner in KC, my first loss of the fantasy season, the onset of a wonderfully horrible cold that still swells my throat and causes perennial hacking of a sick nature. I'm sounding like Steven Wright, without the exaggerated voice inflections. Last weekend, after a long road run out of town, I came home, consumed "Capital N, small y, BIG F**KING Q!!" like it was Jager, and passed out Friday night. Awaking Saturday afternoon (like I said, sick as a dog) I decided to have my morning smoke, per usual, on my front deck. I'd barely exhaled my first drag when I noticed my domelight in my Beamer was hanging by the wires.

Mother. F**KER.

I ran to the car, checking everything out. Some roof paneling was torn, a few tools jacked, nothing major. I guess there's a benefit to having the CD changer in the trunk. (side note on the car: battery's dead, blew the head gasket last year, finances haven't allowed it to be repaired yet) I turned my attention to the Beater, a T-10 Blazer that hasn't looked good in years but runs somehow. Some papers tossed out, though they were considerate enough to leave the ticket I'd gotten Friday morning on the seat in prime viewing condition. They did take a toolbox from the truck, filled with a couple sharpies, some highlighters, and sticky tags. I guess maybe methheads need that stuff for cooking it or some other crap. And on top of that, Halloween sucked, and that's the only holiday I celebrate.

The "police" were called, and as expected, didn't show up. Some SCOPE guy (a retiree who wanted to be a cop) showed up the following Tuesday with a freshman in high school to do fingerprinting. Since it had rained at least twice, they found nothing. What could I do but take the Beater to work, out of town, and pray that it snowed like crazy so idiot thieves didn't mess my car up even more?

There IS a point to all of this personal crap relating to THE Oakland Raiders.

Today is Sunday. And I get to actually SEE the Raiders play for the first time since the thriller against Buffalo, for which I only saw the 4th quarter. I am not blocked by Rodeos, Golf HIGHLIGHTS(#@**$&???) and the damned Seahawks. The Raiders are 2-0 when I see or hear the entire game. And with the Thursday night game, I can watch them twice in 4 days. My birthday isn't till the 13th, but this is an early present. And while we should not look past the Broncos, what with Te-bowtomeyouworthlessfools somehow being able to part seas but unable to elude slow-footed defenders, I am sensing a weary Rivers, being pummeled after giving the chefs an early xmas present, just out of gas after the Pack puts a beatdown on him.

Other thoughts on the state of Raider Nation:

Erik Pears Award: This is Kyle Boller's award to lose. In all seriousness, he makes me yearn for his morbidly obese predecessor, which is actually making me physically ill. I need mouthwash, or perhaps high octane racing fuel.

Hagan cut, Housh added: Mixed feelings. I'd assumed we'd kept Mr glass due to the fact he was already on injured reserve. I was surprised when a week went by and he wasn't injured. But he's back in form, hurt due to some butterfly in Toyko farting west instead of east. Perhaps Hagan will resign when Mr glass inevitably goes home to IR.

The Carson Show: I hope he's worth it. Damn it all to hell, we can't get Killer Kellen Moore now. Let us hope he is more 2006 than 2010. I had really come around to Jason Campbell after dubbing him Son of Ja last year. I feel it only apropos to dub Carson's fail name: FACEPALMER. You don't earn my love until you prove it, dude. At least show some damned fire.

Side question: Does anyone know if Lito Sheppard has a Hue connect, outside of TC?

Prediction: If you're getting sloppy seconds, might as well follow Detroit. Raiders win ugly, 22-16. Tim Tebow disappears after game, found in New Orleans, enjoying "big city livin', and a voodoo woman named Phyllis".  John Elway inserts self as starter for following week.

Enjoy ripping, as always.