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The latest disturbing chapter in...

Houston Nutt should resign--just resign, leave, and go coach at some place where people don't care as much about football. Care may be a weak word here; try "obsess," "mull over 24/7," or "pray to their secret arachnid overlord in the dark of night" instead. None still really cover how odd affairs at Arkansas truly are right now.

How about "football-haunted?" If that's close, then Houston Nutt's got a poltergeist on his hands. We dropped this in another entry, but someone used the Freedom of Information Act to get their grubby hands on Houston Nutt's cell phone records, all game thanks to Nutt using an Arkansas-funded cell phone as part of his coaching perks.

Weirder--or more dedicated, depending on your relative sanity here--someone's put together the equivalent of a legal brief detailing Nutt's behavior and public statements as they correspond to his phone activity.

We mean this with gravity: don't click on it unless you want to rearrange the cells in your brain to form new, frightening connections you may find disturbing.

We don't know if Nutt lied about any of the things he's allegedly lied about over the past six months, or whether he's allegedly banging a local anchorwoman, though we sure as hell would get in trouble for texting a woman not named Mom, TCOAN, or Madeleine Albright at 12:27 a.m. (Maddy and we are tight. Helluva drinker, that lady, but you probably knew that.)

But it's hard not to feel like you've crossed some new, disturbing rubicon reading it. We're caught somewhere between quoting Keats:

Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He star'd at the Pacific--and all his men
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise--
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

...and just saying that the whole thing is just fucked, fucked, fucked up from ass to teakettle. Hey, Houston Nutt, we're you for three seconds. Look at us realizing that the people around you are all insane. We're leaving forever. Now, you're back and resigned. Wasn't that easy? Now you do the rest.