At Liverpool, colorless green ideas sleep furiously. Absolutely nothing makes sense anymore, and I can't help but believe that's the point.
Liverpool hasn't had a plan for a new manager since sacking Benitez, evidenced by the wildly widely disparate names discussed during the month that the position's been empty. But from their personal point of view, having no plan is Hicks and Gillett's best possible policy. It buys them more time to have no plan to sell the club, and it keeps the fans focused on more trivial matters. Sadly, in this case, the trivial matters are the manager who decides the team and tactics for the game that we're all here to watch, the man who will try to make our summer of discontent somehow glorious. But because we're big business, the football takes a back seat so our loving custodians can make a buck off our love of football, selling snake oil with a Liverpool logo. Round and round in circles we go and where we'll stop, nobody knows.
Make sense? Good. It shouldn't. That's exactly how it's supposed to be. We of the Internet are a minority when considering the millions upon millions of fans worldwide. And there's a minority in our minority with heads still in the sand. Ignorance gives our enemies a large range of probabilities, and it is worse still to be ignorant of our own ignorance. Get the word out any way possible, wherever you are. Because of indifference, one dies before one actually dies, and then the club dies. Those trivial matters will truly be trivialities, no matter the future manager, if Liverpool continues on its winding, wayward path.
Picture the larger picture. Recognize what's nonsense and hold who's responsible accountable. Sleep furiously tonight, but be sure to dream in red.