The Vikings have always made themselves great fodder for a satirist. Since their inception, they have routinely been good enough and popular enough to sustain relevance and yet star-crossed and self-destructive enough to make them weekly punchlines in a sport where fewer than 20 days a year count.

What are we to make, then, of the 2008 Vikings who report to camp today? Everything Purple we have become accustomed to ridiculing is fading away like the ink on a Love Boat lawsuit.

• The Triangle of Authority?

It still sounds funny, still could be the code name of the villains in the next Austin Powers movie, but the recent reality doesn't make for much hilarity.

Owner Zygi Wilf, personnel boss Rick Spielman and coach Brad Childress have put together an impressive roster. They engineered the trade for Jared Allen. They've done well in free agency. They tampered (or not) with Brett Favre, which is only a bad idea if you get busted for it. Their drafts seem solid to date.

Wilf might never be a smooth public speaker. Spielman initially created the impression of a stuffed shirt. Childress begged to be ridiculed in his first season and a half at the helm. As they've learned on the job, though, the three have begun to resemble a sensible decision-making team. Which, dang it, doesn't leave a lot of room for funny nicknames.

• Kick-ass offense?

Childress used this term to defend his schemes at the end of his first, disastrous season, one in which his offense was more predictable than a James Bond movie. (Childress always ran left; Bond always gets the girl.)

Now, though, he's constructed an intimidating running game and added quality receivers to the passing game. He and his quarterback, Tarvaris Jackson, still have miles to go, but Jackson is set up to have at least a solid year as a starter in '08, which would make this (can't ... say ... it ... must ... resist ... optimism) something like a KAO.

• Holding a play chart over your mouth when calling plays?

You imitated Groucho Marx by attaching a bushy mustache to a pair of glasses. You imitated Childress by attaching a play chart to the lips.

The highlight of Childress' first season (for us, not him) was the three fans who all donned the Childress disguise during games. Now, though, we know that Bill Belichick tapes every conversation in football -- even those between Mike Tice and his favorite scalper -- you shouldn't just hold a chart over your mouth. You should call your plays in Mandarin and make the quarterback wear 10 decoder rings.

• Code of Conduct?

The behavioral tome commissioned by Wilf weighed more than Troy Williamson, and had about as many readers as Mitt Romney's book, "How to Win An Election." And it didn't work, for the simple reason that you can't hope to police 60 young men who play a violent game with money and time on their hands 12 months of the year.

This one is still fair game.

• Chester Taylor left?

We all knew it was coming, first play of every game, and perhaps every drive. Childress would send Taylor into the line twice, the overmatched quarterback of the week would throw an incompletion on third down, and the Vikes would punt. Again.

Now, though, Taylor is backing up Adrian Peterson, and who can argue with any play that sends Peterson behind Matt Birk, Steve Hutchinson and Bryant McKinnie?

Let's face it, the NFC North, like France, is just sitting there waiting to be conquered.

The Packers are redefining the term "distraction," the Bears aren't trying and the Lions are still run by the NFL version of Kevin McHale, Matt Millen.

The Triangle hasn't really accomplished anything yet. The previous coach won a playoff game in 2004 and nine games in '05; Childress has done neither, but The Triangle has put together a promising team.

You know what this means: Until the Vikings' next 41-0 loss or mass misdemeanor, Minnesota satirists are just going to have to spend more time making fun of McHale.

Jim Souhan can be heard Sundays from 10 a.m.-noon on AM-1500 KSTP. • jsouhan@startribune.com