Bob Toledo makes his way through the LSU football compound, looking for answers as to how to stop this indestructible army of efficient and ruthless assassins from an angrier and sexier future. They're thinking, Bob. They're thinking. They can even feel...mostly rage, but it's still a feeling.     We're not going to say that the new logo is eerily reminiscent of a certain band's album art (ARE YOU KIDDING CHECK THIS OUT). Celebrated by the Golden Band from TigerLand, this triumphant cover band returns to the Superdome to play their greatest hits, like "Open Arms Tackle," "Hatefully," "Don't Stop This Bleedin'", "Who's Crying Now", and "Levelin', Touchin', Sackin'". The band seems nonplussed that their groupies are indeed portly middle-aged fellas in RVs. ROCK ON. Phew! The Ol' Ball Coach, Jerkscrunch McToddlervisor, must have curried favor with ye olde football gods and they opened the skies so that the rains would pour forth. The rain was supposed to lessen the blow to Ye Ol' Ball Coach and help wash away the ichors and humours that seeped from starting quarterback Blake Mitchell, but alas, Ye Ol' Coach sequestered the downy lad and put him on pine, probably to spare his clavicles from being Beckwithed. The rains slowed down the beast, but only for a bit, for the creature must feed... This week's battle takes us that massive metal bowl of porridge in the Crescent's skyline; in recent times, the Tigers have signed their names in the juice of the defeated. Kittner, White, Quinn...Scelfo? In anticipation of the starting quarterback being relegated to headphone-lad like all of the other starting quarterbacks before, Bob Toledo has elevated a forest nymph to lead the noxious charge of the Ween Grave. Perhaps Holy Toledo is hedging his bets...offering a sacrifice to ye olde football gods, or perhaps, he knows that he can still enter conference play with a quarterback who has not been folded many times, like a secret "do you want to make out check yes or yes" letter. The back of this letter says "by make out I mean have me put my helmet into your earhole so that you hear the scream of the beast still check yes well it doesn't matter say goodbye, equilibrium." Why, oh why, couldn't the Cocks come this week? They would have been helpful in waking the sleeping beast for this 11 a.m. kickoff. But there will be no jazz brunch this weekend, nay, instead, first on the menu is a heaping plate of pain-filled beignets dusted with Rip Fuel, served with a piping hot cup of brake fluid. The fates have bestowed great power upon the beast that is LSU football; powers far greater than any piddly green wave. The rivalry that once was has passed like a wind through Saban's golden wispy hair, replaced by the beast, who is no longer clumsy and oafish, but is instead a maddened whirling column of fire that has poles with wolves on the end of it sticking out and there's some blades on the top too, and also a compartment for hornets. And the wolves are vomiting rattlesnakes and dart frogs, who are pooping thumbtacks. The fates have offered new battle gear for this tussle - a rocking Rebel Alliance pelican who has pirate cutlasses for wings, so when she flaps, she hacks out your innards. TAKE THAT! The Trough also noticed that the new pirate pelican also seems to be wearing a "Hairspray"-like wig from the 1950's...so, uh...it's hard to get more New Orleans than that. The new logo and gear is to help New Orleans, presumably by humiliating their local school's football team in the town's pantheon. So be it. The fates strapped the yoke on early, and are just trying to steer the beast in check. The good news is that the Tigers can get a feel for the field...you know, for when they come back in January. Tulane could have just met the Tigers in LaPlace; The Trough would have offered them their $50 check and a Linens 'N Things coupon, just to go away. BUT NOOOOOO... We wish there was more to say about this one, but we're going to hold our tongues until next week. While holding, we noticed that our tongue feels a bit clammy and plump, like an oyster. Thankfully, we only had to watch 10 minutes of Tebow before my tongue was fully healed - his all-purpose yards mend even the most broken of hearts. This one is ugly-ugly, quick-quick. Rebel Alliance pirate space pelican: 56 Dial "911" on my Scelfo - I'm being sacked: 0 Welcome to The Trough, a place that really gets to the meat of LSU's opponents. Ok, not so much the meat, but the sinewy gristle and thick connective tissue. We then feed these funbits through a grinder to get a coarse meaty bounty, and that's what is on display here. It should be a given that while The Trough is loosely related to LSUChicageaux.com, it's more like a Baton Rouge uncle than a Tuscaloosa cousin. In other words, what's in The Trough is obviously not endorsed by any official LSU entity. They've got better sense than that.