FLAT FLAT FLAT

Because if this unsettling air of deflation, which has haunted Everton since before the season began, is allowed to continue, we can forget about derby day delight or Uefa Cup progress.
It's hard to nail down the reason for this odious inertia but we can all feel it. The players feel it, we feel it, David Moyes's writing hand is even gripped by it.
It's starting to stink too. It certainly stank last night, enough to overpower Paul Ince's 'Peter Andre 4 Him' aftershave from the pound shop in Belle Vale.
A proud contingent of us made the 'short' (if the bleeding motorway isn't practically closed for four miles for the sake of three workmen sitting off having a brew) journey to Lancashire to watch Everton's second-ish string get royally owned by Blackburn's second-ish string.
The same failings were all too apparent.
Let's start with our ineffective midfield, where Fellaini and Castillo again played like total strangers. Ok, so yes they are practically strangers - and where we can therefore forgive a lack of cohesion, giving the ball away under no pressure is unacceptable. Unacceptable for a youth team player, let alone £15m of lanky Belgian.
We have to bite our lips on this one though, because it is so early in Fellaini's tenure. But while I accept he is still learning, failure to do the basics is deeply alarming.
Tactically Moyes got it wrong in the middle too. Jack Rodwell is, at best, a defensive midfielder. So deploying him on right wing bore all the hallmarks of Fat Waiter-style 'square peg in round hole' lunacy.
Surprisingly, it didn't' work.
In defence the back four continued to look scared and vulnerable. Trying to eke out positives, Lescott made no fundamental errors although equally he showed no signs of emerging from the form dip he is drowning in.
Tim Howard could do little about the only goal of the game but again his nerves looked shot and his kicking under pressure was inconsistent and inaccurate.
What about up front? Neat touches and flashes of menace from Saha boded well, and James Vaughan ran endlessly but the Brummie youngster lacked the cavalier threat he provided last season.
Even when Moyes tried to beef us up at half time, The Yak couldn't have looked less interested if he'd started tucking into a KFC on the touchline and Cahill was often pushed out wide!??
It left Phil Neville's attempt at clapping the away support looking sadly ill-advised (if typically honourable) as the justified boos rang down into the night.
What is it rotting at the core then? Has a summer of soul-bearing and admissions of poverty by our chairman left the squad deflated and numbed their ambition?
Has the departure of key personalities like Carsley and Andrew Johnson left a major hole in morale? (With hindsight Carsley should have been made a final, one year offer he couldn't refuse)
Or is that old Yo-Yo tendency which has soured part of Moyes's reign to date, creeping sinisterly back?
Perhaps the manager's lack of commitment has filtered through to the players?
Maybe. But perhaps the hardest thing to deal with for me, and the thousands of other Moyes devotees, is that deep down they can understand why the Scot is taking his time.
Even trying to be stubbornly positive I feel daft grasping for signs we can beat our local rivals on Saturday and then triumph in Belgium.
I just can't see any evidence. But then it's football, and it's Everton - so strictly speaking, all bets are off.