Jeff Lurie surprisingly quick tempo in guillotining Chip Kelly

Jeff Lurie always had a slow trigger finger. If he had been a gunfighter, he would have been dead years ago.

Patient to a fault, he waited at least a year too long to pull the trigger on Andy Reid.

So you just had to know that his boiling point had to be hotter than a witch’s cauldron when he suddenly flashed a quick trigger finger Tuesday night and abandoned Chip a week before the season finale.

It had to be a difficult decision for Lurie, who bought Chip Kelly’s whole crock and remade the entire franchise in Chip’s image.

Kelly made enormous changes in the way the Eagles do everything, from their practice schedules to their diets and sleep habits. Three years of sports science and smoothies. And one playoff appearance.

One thing he couldn’t change was the axiom that absolute power corrupts.

Lurie made a colossal blunder when he gave Kelly full personnel control. Kelly soon began dealing destruction more adroitly than a blackjack dealer, jettisoning blue chippers for ham and eggers.

No wonder in recent weeks that Kelly was babbling nonsense and sporting a bleached look to his eyes.

He had a fixed mindset with his quick tempo offense that was so kindergarten simplistic that opposing coordinators soon were quick to decipher it.

Kelly trumpeted culture over scheme and scheme over talent in a league where talent reigns supreme.

Chip’s bizarre offseason roster makeover was intended to go from good to great. Instead, he went from good to bad to ugly in a season populated with ugly, fundamentally-flawed losses.

Kelly’s dismissal represents a shocking fall from grace for a guy who not too long ago was considered to be the plum of every major college program looking for a Messiah.

The once upon time heralded gridiron guru at Oregon now is a dead Duck.

As for the Eagles, the entire football culture will have to be rebuilt from  rubble. Lurie now is paying a terrible price for his mistrust in Mr. Chip.

At least he had the gumption to say Goodbye Mr. Chip.

Resurrections take time. If they even take place at all.

Playoffs? Eagles were talking playoffs? What were they smoking?

All the doomsday talk of Armageddon and Apocalypse is huddling up in Philadelphia.

The Eagles are 6-9 and out of the playoffs.

With a losing season, Chip Kelly has made himself a pariah.

Nevertheless, he seems detached from the nuclear holocaust while perched in his own cocoon of concentration, in communion only with himself.

Once upon a time considered to be an aloof genius, we now discover that Kelly’s mind is camped out on Jupiter.

An NFL team is like a river fed by 50-some tributaries, but a few manic whirlpools can capsize the ship.

Some of the Eagles’ racehorses failed to rev it up down the stretch when feeling the crop. Rather, they quit.

The Birds lost to the Redskins 38-24 Saturday night at the Linc because they once again were incredibly sloppy, terribly undisciplined and a sieve on defense.

I wish Jeff Lurie simply would give Kelly the boot with an infinite hang time.

But it says here the owner won’t punt on Chip.

A decision that will make Iggles Nation lime green with nausea.

The return of The Prodigal Son is a non-story as the Eagles boot the Bills

On a beautiful, luminescent and balmy December Sunday afternoon at the Linc that seemed to shout to the celestial heavens that global warming is a good thing for the here and now if not for the future, the Philadelphia Eagles gulped through the Shady McCoy distraction, clutched it up and beat the Buffalo Bills 23-20 in a grit-and-gristle game.

The Eagles inched closer to .500 at 6-7 but, more importantly, remained in a tie for first place in the NFC East, which is kind of either the Newark or Camden of the NFL divisions.

The Birds’ defense shivered the synapses of the Bills and in so doing, ripped the babushkas of gloom from the sweaty heads of non-believers who still had ye little faith after Philly somehow walked on water in shocking the defending Super Bowl champion New England Patriots the previous game.

McCoy, the man-child who still is immaturely simmering because Chip Kelly didn’t call him prior to shipping his rebellious butt to Buffalo in the offseason, sulked into the tunnel when the final seconds ticked off the clock.

McCoy did not encounter any Eagles players during the pregame warmup. He did embrace Eagles owner Jeffrey Lurie and he did not shoot Kelly. In typical Rex Ryan chutzpah, the Bills sent McCoy to midfield as their lone captain before the game. McCoy kissed the Eagles logo before the coin toss. But he hardly made an emphatic statement of vengeance, finishing with a pedestrian 74 rushing and 35 receiving yards.

In place of McCoy at running back, Kelly divided the carries among The Three Musketeers of Ryan Mathews (who started perhaps because DeMarco Murray went over Kelly’s head and bitched about his lack of playing time against the Patriots to Lurie on the flight home from New England — bad form after such an astonishing upset), Darren Sproles and Murray.

Sam Bradford, whose oversized helmet continues to make him look like the Lord Helmet character in Spaceballs, had an OK game — going 23 for 38 for 247 yards with one touchdown and one interception.

Tight end Zach Ertz had the Eagles’ biggest catch, a 41-yard, third-down completion late in the fourth quarter that set up the winning 30-yard field goal.

They won’t be painting this Eagles season in watercolor and preserving it on a postcard. But if they somehow manage to trudge through their mediocrity to a division title and a home playoff game, they will garner some ambivalent admiration.

The morning sunrise is a lock; the fact that the Eagles suddenly are good again is not

Well, the Eagles’ do-you-believe-in-miracles? 35-28 shockeroo over the Patriots in Foxboro Sunday should temporarily stop the bleating and blathering in the Delaware Valley and beyond.

Now everybody is gleefully assessing Philadelphia’s chances of winning the NFC Least.

But let’s not carried away.

The NFL is a week-to-week league. Unlike literature or play scripts, there is little foreshadowing.

Maybe the Birds aren’t buckling under the weight of Chip Kelly’s enormous ego. But maybe they are. They once again could play bewildered and beleaguered in their next game with the Bills and Shady McCoy.

There are no absolutes in the NFL.

Sunday was no proof that the Eagles, much like Humpty Dumpty, have put all their fallen pieces back together.

The game was astounding but sort of a fluke. How often does a team score three non-offensive touchdowns in a game? Don’t hold your breath until the next time the Birds pull off that trifecta.

Of course, the Eagles did just that against New England on a 24-yard return of a blocked punt by Najee Goode, a 99-yard interception return by safety Malcolm Jenkins, and an 83-yard Darren Sproles punt return touchdown.

Those scores, along with two touchdown passes by Sam Bradford, enabled the Eagles to springboard from a 14-0 deficit in the second quarter.

Watching them reel off five straight touchdowns was amazing, considering that after they had fallen into that 14-0 hole Sunday they had been outscored 104–31 in their past two-plus games.

The sheer unpredictably of sports is why we watch them. Which is why I’m sure you’ll stay tuned.

America: The land of mass killings

It’s painfully obvious that America needs more mass shootings like the equator needs more sun.

The U.S. is plagued by more eruptions of slaughter than any other place on Earth.

It’s a primal problem. No civilized society should suffer such frequent mass sacrifices of innocents.

It happened again yesterday and once again throats gulped into mouths.

A husband and wife, leaving behind their 6-month-old daughter, murdered 14 people and injured 21 more at an employee banquet in San Bernardino, Calif.

They fired as many as 75 rifle rounds in the assault, left behind three rigged-together pipe bombs with a remote-control device that apparently malfunctioned, and had over 1,600 more bullets with them when they were gunned down in their SUV.

Wearing black tactical gear and wielding assault rifles, Syed Rizwan Farook, a 28-year-old county restaurant inspector, and his wife, Tashfeen Malik, 27, opened fire at a social service center shortly after he slipped away from a banquet he was attending there.

Four hours later and a few miles away, the couple were shot to death in their rented vehicle in a furious gun battle with police. During the shootout, the couple fired 76 rounds while law officers unleashed about 380.

At their home, the couple had 12 pipe bombs, tools for making more such explosives, and over 3,000 more rounds of ammunition.

Apparently it was their civil right to stockpile such an arsenal, as the gun advocates always preach.

But what about the civil rights of the 14 murder victims and the 21 poor folks riddled with bullets?

The motive of the murderous couple still remains shrouded in mystery as the FBI and police sift for clues.

Officials say the mass shooting was possibly terrorist-related but also could have been a workplace dispute.

It could be that the killers had more than one motivation.

Perhaps we will never know what triggered their fatal snapping point.

At times people who feel screwed allow self-restraint to fracture and burst into terrifying explosions of anger.

But considering that this couple had inordinate preparation and ammo, it very well could be they could have been terrorists.

As we have seen, these bloodthirsty zealots cook with a griddle that throws inordinate heat.

All flames eventually fizzle.

But this flame could take a long time to do so.