HiddenEntries (A Wholly Owned Cynthia Publishing Company Subsidiary Blog)

And the seeming opposite of your No. London Arse are your big-league ice-hockey Philadelphians, also known as the Flyers or, if they are in a brawling mood, the Broad Street Bullies. While the Arse started from lofty heights only to fall ignominiously in their two chances (so far) to win hardware, the Flyers here are the opposite, as you can see from the rapidly ascending squiggly purple line in today’s graphic lede. Yesterday the Flyers gutted-out a 2-1 OT win while many of their direct playoff-hopeful rivals ended-up losing, the combined effect of which boosted the Flyers’ playoff chances a full 35 percentage points in the span of a few hours, to just under 50 percent at the end of Sunday, a day that began with them sitting at about a 15 percent probability. Only a handful of regular-season games remain — get there, Flyers! One time!

(Screengrab from the Bluesky social-media account of the incomparable hockey data-viz wizard Mistah Micah McCurdy, @hockeyviz.com; thank you to him and all his fine & interesting work!)

Resurrection Sunday now, so here’s your music-video lede from this group’s eponymous debut album, which remains an all-timer, debut album or otherwise. Get-up and groove!

A couple of weekends ago, the dream of the elusive Quadruple was on for your No. London Arse; but in the ensuing fortnight since then, it’s all gone horribly pear-shaped for the Gunners, who were punched in the mouth by a late smash-and-grab from hosts Southampton in today’s English FA Cup quarterfinal. And then there were two… Nevertheless, #COYG.

Good Friday today, and services were held as usual, with the exception being Roman Catholic military personnel at the Pentagon, by decree of the Sec’y of War, modern-day Crusader P. Kegsbreath. First the people of colour, then the women, now the Catholics. How long, o Lord, how long?

Pour one out for the woman featured starting at the 4:35 mark of today’s video lede. She ran interference for her old boss the best she could, but as is always the case with that Fat Orange Dump, there eventually was going to come a time when it wasn’t nearly enough — and that time is today! So long, farewell, bye-bye, and have a good time commiserating with your fellow recent outcast, that spendthrift dog-killer from No. Dakota etc.

Down 5-nil through six and a half innings and then still trailing by 2 runs and down to their last strike in the bottom of the ninth, your Phightin’ Philalala Phillies somehow made it all the way back, walking it off in the 10th to pip the visiting Wash., D.C., Nats, 6-5. No foolin’!

Final day of your third month of 2026 now — does it go out like a lamb (baaaaaa!) or like a lion (roarrrrr!)? ONLY THE SHADOW KNOWS…

Monday!

Palm Sunday 2026 now, another year, another Holy Week starting today. And if you have been with this here electronic Weblog for even only one or two years, you know what that means: it’s your annual reminder to play this all-time album at full-blast all the time for at least the next seven days. Springtime, mania, depression, betrayal, torture, death — but no real hope for resurrection! Now what!

Made our first pilgrimage of the new season to the local big-league ballpark last night, and in case you missed it, a certain global fast-fashion giant has secured some unmissable naming rights to the once known uncommercially as plain-old Dodger Stadium. Guggenheim!