Consensus among supporters and opponents seems to be that Hagel did badly today. In fact, it was maybe the worst performance by a Nebraskan on defense since Kevin Cosgrove, 2007 vs. K-State.

The Jewish lobby ain't nothin' but the waiting area at the American Israel Public Affairs Committee's office -- joke Hagel maybe shoulda opened with today.

I don't always skid into a 180-degree turn on the ice, but when I do, I avoid eye contact with other drivers and head off in the opposite direction like that's what I intended all along.

It'd sure be a shame if these PED allegations hurt Ray Lewis's reputation.

"I said I am"? No, that's not it. "Said I, I am"? Still, no. "I am, I said"? Yes! "And no one heard me,  not even the ... toaster"? No. "The coffeepot"? Nope, not quite. "The chair"? Yes, the chair! -- Behind the Music, Neil Diamond, the writing process

So, Iran is putting monkeys into space now but we still can't figure out how to make drones that remove snow?

Internet must be sluggish this morning. I can't find any Photoshops of Ray Lewis wearing deer antlers yet.

Terribly slick in Lincoln this morning. Worried about my fellow drivers. So, buildings, if you don't have to go out, please don't.

I wish someone would cross-tabulate data on Lincoln drivers who scrape just the tiniest porthole clear of snow and ice on their windshields, their faces peering through the clearance as they barrel across town, with those who drive with dogs on their laps. I'm betting there's at least a 75 percent overlap.

All Americans are instinctively experts on back pain treatment, street engineering, football play calling and snow removal. These topics probably should be added to the U.S. citizenship exam.

So, what's the over-under on the number of "Dance Moms" girls who will murder their mothers in their sleep some day?

A few flaming manholes strategically placed in Lincoln's roundabouts would be so bitchin'.

After he retires, Ray Lewis will have some time to kill.

An inch or two of snow in Washington, D.C., is nature's filibuster.

My efforts to travel back in time to kill Baby Hitler have grown more urgent now that I’ve learned he’s trying to travel into the future to kill Baby Me. :(

James Carville, Mary Matalin and Sarah Palin all lose their TV gigs the same week. Finally, time for a "Three's Company" reboot?

Growing up, we all worried a lot more about quicksand than it turned out we needed to, didn't we?

Surely it's no coincidence that Ariel Sharon is dragging himself out of his seven-year coma the same week Chuck Hagel faces his confirmation hearing.

Judging by all the red eyes and shattered expressions I’m seeing among fellow watchers, some chatter on social media, even the unusual dreary fog this morning, I gather something awful happened on “Downtown Abbey” last night, but I haven’t seen it yet, so stay the hell away from me. As long as it’s nothing that made Miss O’Brien smile, I’m sure I’ll be fine.

Look, Twin Peaks and Tilted Kilt, it cannot be denied that my inner pig enjoys a little cleavage and leg, but what really turns me on in a waitress is a full water glass, being asked no more than once "so, how's everyone doin' here?," ketchup available without asking, not being called "hon" by any waitress under 60 and no smiley faces doodled on the bill (I dock 5 percent off the tip for that last transgression).

Some folks in Lincoln are trying to keep Twin Peaks, a self-described "breastaurant," out of the Haymarket, a movement defined so far by that most modern and devastatingly effective of protest tools -- creation of a Facebook page and the invitation to "like" it (35 likes. Oh, and several hot photos.) As for me, I'm keeping an open mind. I'm sympathetic to the cause, but I do hear they serve a helluva BLT&A.

Obama, apparently without enough on his plate, holds forth in the New Republic about the need for more safety improvements in football. Yeah, I suppose he wants to ban the pistol offense and shotgun formation.

OK, Subway, apology accepted, but Jared's still going around insisting it's a footlong.

OK, people with Christmas decorations still up outside, that'll do.

Bobby Jindal tells fellow Republicans they don't want to be "the stupid party" and just like that Sarah Palin suddenly loses her Fox News gig. Look out Dems, he may be the real deal.

Nebraska lawmakers are considering legislation to ban law enforcement use of drone aircraft. I am torn between my libertarian and environmentalist impulses. As to the former, damn right I don’t want these things nosing around overhead, but as to the latter, I’m a little thrilled at the potential for drones to monitor illegal lawn sprinkler activity in Lincoln, perhaps even -- oh, God, please! -- armed with some light air-to-surface missiles to pinpoint offending sprinkler heads, leaving tiny, smoldering craters all over town.

It is an inexplicable statistical anomaly that we haven't had a car-CVS Pharmacy collision yet in Lincoln.

In case you wondered, six is the number of cookies you can eat before they make you give more blood. — at Nebraska Community Blood Bank.

The plot thickens. New reports suggest that Beyonce was NOT lip-synching. Or maybe she was. And then there's the cell-phone video that's surfaced. It's blurry and shaky but appears to show a second singer on a nearby grassy knoll.

First, the voice of Elmo betrayed us. Then, the voice of Beyonce let us down. Now, the voice of Charlie Brown is in serious legal trouble. So help me, if John Facenda was up to no good, I don't wanna hear about it.

I'm not quite sure I understand this federal debt limit scheme Congress has cooked up, but it sounds suspiciously like the way I used to "accidentally" forget to sign mailed checks to buy myself a little more time.

I've had a life-long love affair with public libraries, so it pains me to call one out, but I expect them to be bastions of clarity, literacy and respect for the language, and, well, my local one emails book-due notices but calls them "pre-overdue" notices. :(

You're being unfair, Tim Brown and Jerry Rice. As hard as it is to believe, Bill Callahan is just that bad a coach.

Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean your imaginary friend ISN'T out to get you.

Are those guns in both your pockets or are you just really happy to have a gun in one pocket?

If Russell Crowe could sing his part live, was it too much to expect the same of Beyonce?

Uh-oh. Now this: Michelle Obama's bangs? Extensions.

Well, at least Bill Callahan can't be accused of using performance- enhancing drugs.

"Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go." -- the cheerful pimp's daily greeting to his staff.

End hunger now! Mine at least. Ordering pizza.

A question for the haters that shall not be named, who are among the Inauguration Day visitors to D.C.: If God hates fags, how come He made Ellen DeGeneres and Neil Patrick Harris so damn fabulous?

Paul Ryan, Jay-Z, Beyonce and some dude wearing a Ponemah, Minn., ballcap filing out of the Inauguration together. Is this a great country, or what?

Soaring poetry and prayer, fabulous hats on men and women, politicians putting aside their differences in recognition of what binds us all, patriotic songs and inspiring speeches that everyone knows far exceed our reach but remind us why we're proud to be Americans anyway -- maybe we should do this more than once every 1,461 days or so.

You know you're a true Nebraskan when a surprise Tom Osborne sighting still makes your day. OK, week. He's 10 feet away from me at the gym right now!

You've been pwned, Lincoln. That giant leopard-like cat reported around town? My two regular cats shoved into a Bengal cat suit. For my next trick, get my shih tzu propped up at the steering wheel of my pickup truck and run it through the plate glass window at PetSmart.

My God, this Manti Te'o fake-girlfriend story is just crazy -- how her fake death inspired him to help lead the Fighting Irish to the title game. Damndest thing that everyone, including the school and media, apparently got taken in. I mean, it's not like Notre Dame to indulge in such fanciful myth making.

Wait. Manti Te'o is from Hawaii!? I wanna see a birth certificate and I wanna see it now.

After this last week, I'm having existential doubts about the entire football season. Maybe the Big 10 title game and Cap One Bowl never happened either?

Manti Te'o agrees to an interview with Katie Couric. Man, I hope he doesn't tell her he could see Lennay Kekua from his house.

America won't truly be a post-racial society until stores can have Martin Luther King Day white sales.

Stylistas are abuzz with rumors Chief Justice Roberts also let his bangs grow out for today's Inauguration.

I am enjoying imagining how pissed the Ryan brothers are feeling right now.

Steel yourself, Americans, for endless replays of old Harbaugh family home movies, tales of brotherly but ruthless competition in everything from Monopoly to grabbing the last slice of pizza and poignant stories from parents and other loved ones who will insist that they'd known this day would come from the moment the younger Jim came out of the womb holding a football and clipboard. On a positive note, though, Belichick will be glowering at the game from his couch at home, his hood up the whole time and muttering darkly about new ways he'll cheat next year to assure this injustice doesn't happen again.

Does the how-many-ex-Cubs-are-on-your-roster-doom rule carry over to football? If so, Kaepernick and the 49ers are screwed.

"The previous play is under further review" is the most exciting phrase in the NFL, followed closely by "Ladies and gentlemen, your Kansas City Chiefs."

Just once I'd like to hear someone described as a "certain third-ballot hall-of-famer."

God had to take Stan Musial too because Earl Weaver needed a three-run homer.

Football pregame shows are basically "The View" for men. Both are hormone-driven gabfests whose hosts' main qualification is a love of the sound of their own voices.

Stan Musial patiently awaiting his turn while Earl Weaver argues with St. Peter, multiple f-bombs flying.

Bad week for sports heroes. Armstrong, Te'o, now this Michael Crabtree investigation. Just to be on the safe side, if you're at a party and Ray Lewis shows up, get the hell outta there

Now I remember why this sounds vaguely familiar. Remember that time Marcia Brady had a date with two guys the same night, so she told one she'd died of leukemia so she could go out with the dreamier one? And then Desi Arnaz Jr. showed up at the house and threw a football at her nose to teach her a lesson, or something like that.

Lance Armstrong -- pedaling that old-time contrition.

It’s all about context: Bicyclists on PEDs -- despicable. Unicyclists on PEDs -- adorable

In a statement this week, the NRA said, "We look forward to working with Congress on a bi-partisan basis to find real solutions to protecting America's most valuable asset -- our children." Well, I'm pretty sure they mean SECOND most valuable asset but, still, good for them.

Man, if I had a nickel for every girlfriend who told me she couldn't go out with me anymore because she'd died of leukemia, I'd be a very rich man.

Suddenly I'm feeling a little queasy about the $250,000 my Nigerian online girlfriend had me deposit in her bank account for her leukemia treatment.

Breaking news from ESPN: Lennay Kekua IS real. Notre Dame football is an elaborate hoax.

As an old newspaper guy, I am appalled that Journalism 101 and grizzled city editors apparently no longer preach that old adage, if a football player says he loves a girl who’s severely injured in a car crash and then dies of leukemia, check it out.

It gets worse: Lance Armstrong also admitted to Oprah that his Livestrong Foundation actually has been funding the spread of cancer.

"Look under your chairs, ladies and gentlemen. Yes, a hypodermic needle filled with erythropoietin for everyone!" -- Oprah, probably, to her Lance Armstrong studio audience.

Well, that's that. Only outlaws have guns now. Dammit, Obama.

Very disappointed in Obama's gun plan. It ignores the root of the problem behind America's obsession with guns: There’s no federal funding for research into male-enhancement technologies and treatments.

Members of the House of Representatives are reading the U.S. Constitution aloud on the floor this morning. Congressional pages are standing by to help them with the big words.

Obama gun-control plan to be announced tomorrow won’t ban high-capacity ammo magazines, but every ninth round would have to be one of those tiny flags that pops out of the barrel and says “bang!”

In retrospect, we probably should have been more suspicious in 2002 when Lance Armstrong won the Tour de France on a Big Wheel.

Bronc-ku (Broncos haiku):

Peyton's Place: New home,
but familiar playoff
result, bye and bye

Didn't watch "Downtown Abbey," didn't watch "Golden Globes," didn't watch "Girls," didn't watch "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo," didn't see "Zero Dark Thirty." Woefully unprepared for workplace pop-culture conversations, either high- or low-brow, today. May call in sick to avoid humiliation.

We should take careful heed of neocons' concerns about Chuck Hagel. After all, they've been spot-on about everything else in the last decade or so.

When Facebook friends I don't know well post comments about the assorted adventures and misadventures of their loved ones -- minor injuries, bouts of gastro-intestinal distress, impish hijinks, potentially criminal behavior -- I enjoy not being entirely certain whether they're talking about pets or children.

I'll bet the Founding Fathers, if they could see what they've wrought, wouldn't mind a do-over on the wording of both the First AND Second Amendments.

Oh, Christ. It looks like Ray Lewis might get another stab at a Super Bowl after all.

It's been a great weekend of playoff football, yet still there's an empty feeling. Ah, yes, no hilarious postseason Cowboys' implosion for America to celebrate: Jason Garrett flop-sweating and peeing down his leg over some clock-management crisis. Romo throwing a red-zone pick six. A potential game winning field goal hitting one upright, then bouncing across to the other and, incredibly, ping-ponging back and forth between them several more times before falling to the ground in front of the goalpost. Jerry Jones somehow falling from his skybox, flapping his gums and waving his arms all the way down 'til he bounces off the turf. Man, I miss those 'Boys.

Screw you, Goodell. I'm gonna make another use of this NFL broadcast.

When you subsume, you order subs for u and me. Make mine a spicy Italian, extra peppers.

Is standing around a salon telling stylists how their male clients' hair should be cut a job? Because I know a woman who could totally do this. (Asking for a friend's wife.)

On TV in hell I'll bet all football games are called by Musburger and Dierdorf and with Fox Sports graphics.

Actually, I hope Lance Armstrong is going on Oprah to apologize to America for making cycling shorts so popular.

Playoff football is a reminder the terrorists will NEVER win. America, f--- yeah!

I have no idea what kind of secretary of defense Chuck Hagel would be, but I do consider it an impressive testimony to his character and integrity that he is apparently so widely disliked by his former Senate colleagues.

Assuming all NFL playoff camera crews got the same memo this week: Only ugly fat guys in crowd shots.

Scandal in the "Chopped" kitchen at The Food Network: An undercover investigation reveals the clock for the appetizer round is, in fact, set for just 17 minutes, thus confirming the suspicions of hundreds of contestants over the years.

We'll see how Nebraska Attorney General Jon Bruning feels about gun control laws when men start trying to marry their guns.

The governor named a new DMV director this week. Word is she got the job because she has a novel plan for a special driving test for Lincolnites that involves buildings jumping in front of cars.

"Modern Family" is getting a little tedious. I swear, If they don't marry Haley Dunphy off to a disabled black guy soon, I may give up on it.

Guess that's what they call the Suck of the Irish.

Yes, yes, Husker fans, by all means let us wave the flag of our mid-90s champions in the face of these modern poseurs from Tuscaloosa, much like there are Mongols or Romans somewhere presumably still saying, "by God, we would have kicked America's ass."

The only thing remotely interesting about the otherwise tiresome comparisons of the ‘90s Husker dynasty to the current Alabama one is imagining Nick Saban’s reaction to Tommie Frazier's 75-yard touchdown run coming against the Tide.

The Obama administration gets a break as the Washington, D.C., pack loses interest, momentarily at least, in gnawing on Chuck Hagel in favor of fresher meat -- Mike Shanahan. On the downside, the congressional hearings into Shanahan’s actions might force a delay in the Hagel proceedings.

Asked to compare this Alabama team to the '90s Husker dynasty, Brent Musburger said he'd have to see some photos of Tommie Frazier's college girlfriend.

So THIS is what it took for ESPN to finally apologize for Brent Musburger?

See, Redskins, this is why you can't have nice things.

"Please, people, no spoilers from tonight's season debuts of 'Downton Abbey' OR 'Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.'" -- guy who likes to keep his DVR guessing what "other shows you might like based on what you already watch."

Pity the poor Washington, D.C., sports fan -- years of angst and obsession ahead over the health of RGIII and Stephen Strasburg. Let's go ahead and dub them Griffburg now.

Have faith and take heart from my example, 2013 gym newbie. I have taken a full two inches off my pant size in the last four months from working out here. Of course, it's off my inseam so, OK, maybe don't take heart from me, after all.

Ugh. I forgot that Weight Watchers checks blood-chocolate content at the first post-holidays weigh-in. Mine's .033. And blood-cream cheese content: .023. :(

How far would the GOP chuck Chuck if the GOP could chuck Chuck?

OK, I'm just starting Season 2 of "Downton Abbey" as Season 3 begins tonight, but I've already decided Maggie Smith's Dowager Countess is my favorite supporting TV character since Michael K. Williams as Omar Little in "The Wire's." In fact, I'd love to see a series that incorporates both.

"You feel me?" -- Omar.
"I should say not." -- Dowager Countess.

Reports are Lance Armstrong is going to admit doping, but I don't think he has the balls to do it.

"I backed Bob Kerrey for Senate and all I got was this lousy T-shi-- oh wait, it says 'Secretary of Defense!' Sweet!"

So, Lincoln's mayor says city will spread salt on streets earlier with next snowfall. Why just salt, though? How 'bout experimenting with other seasonings next time? Say, cayenne and saffron. It might not work, but street colors would be bitchin'. Who could possibly complain?

Lincoln's mayor announces new plan for snow removal on city streets: Crews will spread salt at the time of the first plowing. Lame. Hizzoner continues to ignore the obvious solution: Buy enough dump trucks to park end to end on all city streets to catch the snow before it hits the ground. Either that or a dome over the entire city, a la Stephen King.

OK, this is getting ridiculous. Facebook just rejected my status update. The screen said, "You're being nonresponsive, Dan. Why can't you honestly answer us: 'How are you feeling, Dan?' Why do you block your feelings and emotions with juvenile jokes, puns and other inane minutiae? Why can't you just open up and let us look behind the mask? So, we'll ask again, how are you REALLY feeling, Dan? Don't make us shut you down."

Our great and powerful republic moves on today, with the formal swearing in of the 113th Congress. Of course, this will follow the also quite moving ceremony of the formal swearing AT of the 112th. Get there early for a good seat, fellow Americans, and yes, rotten tomatoes will be sold on site.

The U.S. Capitol does not emit a pure white, Vatican-like smoke when a new Congress is seated. It belches a foul, sewer-like stench and a grimy, greasy ash that settles all over the city. Every American should see this at least once. In its way, it's almost as impressive as the city's cherry blossoms.

Perhaps this explains a lot: Husker defensive coordinator Papuchis acknowledged he was so emotionally overwrought by seeing "Les Miserables" that he insisted on singing his defensive play calls yesterday.

Beaucoup Boku (Coach Pelini’s occasional reflections in haiku form):

Future’s so bright, you
gotta wear shades. Or blinders?
Point: Watch at own risk.

In the midst of fiscal cliff talks, John Boehner reportedly urged Harry Reid to perform an anatomically impossible act on himself, in a meeting no doubt described in media reports as "frank" and "substantive." Now, if only we could get all of our elected leaders in D.C. to do that to themselves instead of to us.

Always a bad sign when broadcast team starts talking about whether opposing QB should enter NFL draft early with five minutes left in your bowl game.

Upton Sinclair is the only writer who could truly do justice to the last few days of this Congress.