Frozen Four Fiasco
Boston is full of bums. That's all I have to say about this evening's disaster, other than that I am sure a lot more couches would be burning in Evil Lansing were tonight not the eve of Easter Sunday. Curses!

Speaking of ice, of late I have been thinking quite a bit about the Arctic and the Antarctic, and specifically about the late 19th century and early 20th century efforts to solve the mystery of Terra Australis and the mad, vainglorious scramble to achieve the North and South Poles. I do not know of which I am more enamored, the magnificent desolation of the ice itself or the brave souls who, quite simply, went boldly where no man had gone before. Perhaps I am yearning for a world that never existed, a myth of heroism and innocence that died in the trenches of the Great War, but as long as I remember that it is a myth, that the world was never so innocent, it is a fine thing to let my mind reside for a time in such an idyll.