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June 30, 2004
TAKING ONE FOR THE TEAM
You know, there are some jobs that are just so brutal, so challenging, so difficult... that it takes a special breed of man to do them. It takes a man who doesn't think about himself - only the greater good of the organization and of humanity. It takes a man who is willing to sacrifice for his fellow humman beings. It takes a man who is willing to take one for the team.
For this job, I will be that man.
Actress Nicole Kidman says that she cannot find a man willing to date her, due to the baggage she says she carries with her.
"I'm hoping to meet someone and be happy with them. But that's not as easy as it sounds. I'm a 37-year-old woman with two children. Men aren't beating a path to my door," she said in an interview published in the latest issue of "Now" magazine Wednesday.
I'm aware of the dangers that await me. I understand that it will mean dodging paparazzi and having photos of me taken through telephoto lenses. I know that it will mean having to move to southern California to live in a mansion in Malibu - and I accept that burden. I understand that Tom Cruise will by default become part of my life, and that he might threaten to sue me if I criticize Scientology publicly. And I realize, and accept, that taking this job will mean waking up every morning - and going to bed every night! - with one of the world's most beautiful women. Yes, I will stand for you, my fellow men, and make this sacrifice on your behalf... because that's the kind of selfless man I am. Always thinking of how I can relieve my fellow mankind of any burdens or hardships you face.
When I'm gone, don't build statues in my absence, and don't name any highways or elementary schools for me. I don't need recognition - that's not why I am doing this. I'm simply willing to take one for the team.
So... (deep breath)... I volunteer to go marry Nicole Kidman, in order to protect and save my fellow male-kind. Don't say I never did anything for you!
ANYONE KNOW A GOOD LAWYER?
Based on this story, I think I want to sue someone every time I walk into a public place and someone is smoking near me.
Scientists in Britain studied exposure to passive smoke by measuring a breakdown product of tobacco smoke called cotinine in the blood of non-smokers.
They found high concentrations of blood cotinine levels were associated with a 50-60 percent higher risk of coronary heart disease. Previous studies had estimated the raised risk of heart disease from passive smoking in non-smokers at 25 to 30 percent.
Remember my post from Vegas earlier this month about the dangers Vegas casino employees and guests face due to all that second hand smoke, and how I wouldn't be surprised to see a class-action suit? I think this study is the next logical step in the progression towards such a suit. Mark my words, kids: that lawsuit is coming.
MAYBE THIS GUY SHOULD WORK FOR HALLIBURTON
A podiatrist in Georgia has been charged with fraud after the government discovered $40,000 in fraudulent claims, including claims for treating patients who don't even have feet. Yep, you read that right: a podiatrist billed the government for treating people with no feet.
Documents accused Ellicott of submitting false claims for treatment of patients who had died and patients whose feet had been amputated, including one who had been an amputee for nine years. He also is accused of submitting bills for trimming patients' toenails -- a service not covered by Medicare.
Let's see... a doctor who bills the government for cutting toenails, for treating the feet of amputees, and for treating patients who were dead. Hmm... yep, he qualifies! He's passed the Halliburton employment psychological exam with flying colors.
MORE HALLIBURTON FRAUD
Looks like yet another set of incidents of fraud committed by Halliburton -- you know, that company that Dick Cheney runs, and the one he arranged a sweetheart no-bid contract for? This time, more company insiders are blowing the whistle - and internal Pentagon documents back up the stories.
Pentagon documents obtained by NBC News support the whistleblowers' charges. In December auditors complained of Halliburton's "serious deficiencies," including "lack of cost control and cost consciousness." Some examples:
-- Purchase of hundreds of high-end SUVs and pickups, loaded with options like CD players, which "most KBR employees do not need."
-- "Duplication... and gold-plating" in purchases of computers and high-tech equipment.
-- Halliburton employees living in 5-star hotels.
You know, if this was a Democratic administration whose Vice-President engineered a sweetheart no-bid deal for his former company, which then proceeded to defraud the US taxpayers time and time again, Republicans and conservatives everywhere would be calling for impeachment hearings. But, that's the Republican way - hypocritically turning a blind eye to anything that happens on their own watch, while micro-investigating every minute thing Democrats do.
The most telling comment in the whole story - and the one that reveals the common link, in my mind, between Cheney's former business and the war that Bush/Cheney lied about and dragged us into, is this one:
DeYoung audited accounts for Halliburton's subsidiary KBR. She claims there was no effort to hold down costs because all costs were passed on directly to taxpayers. She repeatedly complained to superiors of waste and fraud. The company's response, according to deYoung was: "We can be as dumb and stupid as we want in the first year of a war, nobody's going to care."
Yep. Steal an election, start a war under false pretenses, and make the company a boatload of money in fraudulent charges all picked up by John and Jane Q. Taxpayer. What a prince of a human being Dick Cheney is. Not only should he be impeached, he should be imprisoned.
BRING ON THE DEATH PENALTY
Let the punishment fit the crime. Some punk-ass little pissants in Tulsa apparently killed a bunch of puppies by placing fireworks in their mouths.
Animal control officers said they were following leads Tuesday but had no suspects in Sunday night's attacks, during which one person told police they heard a puppy yelp.
An older dog, a 4 1/2-month-old black Labrador mix, suffered burns on her muzzle and hindquarters from apparently being used as a moving target for fireworks.
I hope these little blanking thugs are found in a hurry, and that the authorities bring the vise down on their teenage testicles. And screw them being just teenagers - they're adults enough to know that putting fireworks in the mouth of another living animal will kill it in the most terrifying manner. These kids are already a frigging waste of oxygen and a danger to society - today a puppy, tomorrow a person.
And you know what would be the best possible method of capital punishment for these little sociopaths? They should be paraded into a prison yard, have their pants dropped, and have lit M-80s shoved up into their long intestines - with wicks about 4 yards long so that they'd have a good 30 seconds of sheer panic while waiting for the things to go off.
Let the punishment match the crime.
June 29, 2004
STUPID LUCKY 14 YEAR OLD
In a story straight out of My Tutor, Private Lessons, Class, or any number of other god-awful 80s teen sex comedies, a 23 year old teacher has been arrested in Tampa, Florida for a whole slew of lascivious conduct with one of her 14 year old students.
TAMPA, Florida (AP) -- A 23-year-old middle-school teacher was charged with having sex with a 14-year-old student in a classroom, at her apartment and, once, in a vehicle while the teen's 15-year-old cousin drove.
But the kicker? Take a look at the teacher, man! Whoa! She's a freakin' hottie! You just know that every boy in that school had "Miss Lafave" fantasies. I guarantee it.
They've had psychologists on TV talking about how this "abuse" will follow this kid forever. Yeah, right. I was a 14 year old boy once. You know what would have followed me forever if I'd have scored a teacher who looked like this? High fives. The only "scar" on this kid's gonna be the one from his left ear to his right ear in the shape of a permanent cheshire cat grin. I mean, you just know that this kid is going to be the most popular kid in the junior high hallways next year. "Dude, you got with Ms. Lafave? Freakin' SCORE, dude!"
Now, having spent a little bit of time in the Tampa-St.Pete area a few years ago, I can attest to the idea that there's something in the Gulf Coast drinking water that makes folks just a little crazier than the rest of the planet when it comes to private behavior. (Again, the only scars are the shape of giant grins.) But do you remember any of your teachers looking like this? And how many of your teachers do you think were wild-child enough to hit the back seat of an SUV while someone else drove? For those of you who are male, wouldn't a teacher like this have been a dream come true when you were 14?
Man, when I was 14 all we had was Ms. Connell, the 60-something relic from a bygone era who once called my friends and I a "big bunch of dinks," and actually told me once in front of the class that I would never amount to anything. (I think that was right after I made my 1,829th uncalled for smart-ass comment in the middle of one of her lectures, so maybe she can be forgiven for thinking I was a bit of a clown who played to audiences. Still, I've always wanted to find her and just wave a pay stub in her face while uttering Dick Cheney's favorite retort.)
Somehow I feel like, compared to the kids in 2004 Tampa, us kids from 1982 rural suburban Minnesota got the shaft.
HEY, YOU KNOW WHAT? SOMETIMES THE SYSTEM ACTUALLY WORKS!
As much as some try to subvert it, the US Constitution is still the most brilliant document ever written. It can withstand just about anything - even a Bush administration that has ignored it for every waking moment since it took office. Even with a Supreme Court stcaked with Republican-nominated justices (Rehnquist, Stevens, O'Connor, Souter, Kennedy, Scalia, and Thomas were all appointed by the R's), the Court this week delivered a thorough repudiation of the Bush Administration's attempts to operate outside of the Constitution. The Washington Post had a very insightful analysis of just how sweeping a defeat the Court's decisions were for Bush. Some highlights:
1) Liberal or conservative mattered little in the ultimate outcome. The court roundly rejected the president's assertion that, in time of war, he can order the "potentially indefinite detention of individuals who claim to be wholly innocent of wrongdoing," to quote the court's opinion in the case of foreign prisoners held at the U.S. base in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. In fact, the administration's claim to such power over U.S. citizens produced an opinion signed by perhaps the court's most conservative justice, Antonin Scalia, and possibly its most liberal, John Paul Stevens.
2) As the justices suggested several times in their opinions, emergency measures that might have been within the president's power in the days and weeks just after 9/11 now must be reconciled with American norms of due process... Given that the administration has said its war on terrorism might stretch over generations, Justice Sandra Day O'Connor wrote, the "indefinite detention" of a prisoner "could last for the rest of his life." And that, the court said, is too long to do without the basics of due process.
3) The justices used the cases to wrestle with one of the core dilemmas of free society: How can strength be balanced with liberty? Or, put another way, what are the limits on a leader's power in a crisis?
"The defining characteristic of American constitutional government is its constant tension between security and liberty," Justice David H. Souter wrote.
And so the opinions drew heavily on some of the oldest and weightiest precedents in the book. Starting with King John's promise in Magna Carta, signed in 1215, that "no free man should be imprisoned.. save by the judgment of his peers or by the law of the land," the justices traced the limits on executive power through English common law, on through the Federalist Papers and down a long a line of precedents forged in some of the darkest hours of the nation, including the Civil War and World War II.
You know, I'm torn... those enemy combatants in Gitmo are mostly al Qaeda members captured in Afghanistan; they are our enemies, they are my enemies, and after 9/11 I really don't have a whit of sympathy for any al Qaeda dogs we pick up. There is nothing we could do to those "people" that I wouldn't find justifiable. They deserve to be treated like the camel dung al Qaeda is.
However... I really don't like the precedent it sets when the president (especially one with as little respect for the Constitution as Bush) is allowed to just declare that someone is an enemy of the state and thus can be detained indefinitely with no access to lawyers and no trial in sight. This time it's an enemy non-combatant... what's to stop him the next time from pulling the same stunt on Americans he decides are "enemies" and uses the post-9/11 security needs to justify it? (Take a look at Republican rhetoric on Democrats and left-wingers who oppose this Administration... then tell me that it's wholly implausible that Bush or Cheney or Rummy could declare a dissenting voice a threat to national security.)
As much as I hate even the concept that the Gitmo detainees have rights to anything, I think the Court was right to step in here. And with the justices lining up 8-1, with only the lapdog Clarence Thomas siding with Bush, it's pretty clear that this administration's been operating outside the bounds of the Constitution. Declaring that they have the right to ignore international conventions and international law is bad enough. Deciding that they don't have to follow the Constitution is treason.
STUPID RED SOX
All I can say is, at least the sons of bitches are getting the swoon over with early this year - no teasing us for months only to fall tantalizingly short at the end. This time, they've had the decency to pull out the dagger and plunge it into our hearts as early as June 29.
Last year, even when things looked strong for the boys, my fellow Sox fan Tim (who has a great post up right now about the moronosity of Yankee fans) and I began repeating a little mantra... we knew that if we actually began believing in the Olde Towne Team, it would only hurt worse when they'd eventually just rip our hearts from our chests like they always do. So we kept maintaining a negative attitude about the Sox - for the last six weeks of the season, we started every IM conversation with this mantra, included it in virtually every e-mail, even repeated it in front of Yankee "fans" (most of whom have no clue about baseball, they're only in it because New York is a town full of front-runners who jump on whatever thing is hot and pretend it's always been their own) in the hallways and cafeteria. This negativity carried us to within five damn outs of the World Series. So, I'm officially declaring that it's time to bring the negativity mantra back - it's the only thing that can save the Sox' season now. So kids, everyone repeat after me... 1, 2, 3:
"The Red Sox are doomed... doomed, I tell you."
(Yeah, okay, so it's stupid and childish, and Tim and I were probably silly for doing it. But it's the only thing that's ever even come close to working, so if you don't like it, shut up. The Red Sox are doomed... doomed, I tell you.)
BARBIE, YOU TRAMP!
So it looks like Barbie ditched her long time beau, Ken, for... some Aussie surfer dude named Blaine?
Yes, kids, that little tramp Barbie is off running around with some buff young dingo, says Mattel. Blaine won a popularity contest on the Web, and the next thing you know, he's hanging ten (ahem!) with our formerly innocent little Barbie. Who knows what sick and perverse things this 'Blaine' is into? I don't even want to know what "shooting the curl" means. And do we know if this boy is anatomically correct? I mean, Ken was a nice eunuch boy - but this 'Blaine' ... do you know anything about his family? Where he comes from?
Listen, Barbie... I know all about guys like this. You're just a toy to him. He's telling you he loves you, but whenever you're away on business, he's hittin' it with the Baywatch action figure down the beach. He's probably right now down at the bar, bragging to G.I. Joe about the little outfits he gets you to wear for him. He's just a plastic guy, Barbie - all good looks with nothing inside him!
The saddest thing about this story isn't that I noticed it (although that is the most frightening thing about this story). The saddest thing is that when I saw that an Australian hunky surfer type has swept Barbie off her feet, I immediately thought of Hamish (my Aussie friend of the May trip to California fame)... and said to myself, "Well, I've seen Hamish operate here in the States, and how the chicks like the accent... Yeah, he probably could win her over."
How sad is my life that I see news stories about the budding romance between two plastic dolls, and then think of a good friend & project his personality onto one of those dolls? I am in need of some serious professsional help.
HOW ANNOY1NG 1S THIS?
If you're not offended by language, Ptitza has a really funny post up right now over at Chicken Soup For The Vegan Soul about the oh-so-damned annoying trend out there of bloggers and other Net denizens somehow thinking that adding tildes and symbols to words is cutesy. She totally cracked me up - especially the line about the whole idea being so very "Nick and Jessica." And this gem:
Ashley's Kitten Parlor isn't nearly as precious as ~*~Ashley's Kitten Parlor~*~
I'm still never 100% sure what Ptitza's writing about, but she's unquestionably a good writer who is very interesting in an abstract, absurdist sort of way. And this post was dead smack on. Well done!
ISN'T IT IRONIC? DONT'CHA THINK?
I love this kind of story - one, it allows me to smugly and make fun of other people's misfortune; and two, it lets me take more shots at that vaunted Texas intellect.
A group of Texas firefighters came back from doing a job to find that they had started their own firehouse on fire. Seems they left some food on the stove, and it caught fire - doing $125,000 in damage to the firehouse.
The blaze was extinguished late Thursday night with the help of firefighters from other stations. It damaged the kitchen and living area.
Fire officials also wanted to remind the public to make sure not to leave food cooking before stepping out.
That last line may yet win the "Best Overall Media Line In 2004" trophy before it's all over.
June 28, 2004
I CALL IT MY "MY BOYS CAN'T SWIM" PLAN
As if we didn't have enough to worry about, now it turns out that cell phones might significantly lower a man's sperm count.
Carrying a mobile in hip pockets or a holster on the waist could cut sperm count by nearly 30 percent, according to the research.
Sure, most experts are dismissing this as junk science. But that's what they once said about using leeches in medicine? And yet look at what's happened now - leeches have FDA approval.
The question is, is the impact temporary? If so, Verizon may put Trojan out of business.
YOU CAN TAKE THE GIRL OUT OF THE TRAILER PARK...
You know, I'm like most guys. Faced with a pretty girl, I'm pretty much willing to cut her a break... or two... or twenty-seven. Stuff that you wouldn't put up with from anyone else suddenly seems much less annoying. I know it's superficial, but at least I admit it.
That said, Britney Spears is quickly living her way off of my "laminated top ten list." She's still hot, don't get me wrong. But she's quickly approaching daytime television territory, and she's running out of breaks.
The "let's get some cheap attention by kissing a woman -- who by the way is old enough to be my mom" stunt, I could live with... despite the slightly creepy age thing, there was still enough of the girl-girl titilation thing to be overlooked. (By the way, please don't ask me why men find that whole thing intriguing or why it works... it just does. None of us can explain it, it just does.) However, starting with the whole running-off-to-Vegas-to-get-married-for-55-hours thing, she's been sliding toward Springerville. And this week's revelation that she's engaged to a man who left the pregnant-again mother of his child girlfriend for Britney -- and that Britney herself is probably knocked up -- well... I'm trying to figure out which show she's auditioning for: Maury, Ricki, or Jerry.
She's doing nothing for my impression of Southerners. And let me make one thing very clear: Britney's not trash because of her wardrobe, she's trash because of her behavior. She's descending the slippery Michael Jackson slope: where your behavior becomes so outlandish and stupid that even your fans give up on you forever - you get too "out there" to ever win them back.
Britney, honey... go back to writhing in barely-there outfits but still publicly maintaining your purity. You're quickly erasing the only difference between you and Christina Aguilera.
IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL
It's funny how small the world is - especially here in the Blogosphere. I wrote last night about how much I really enjoyed seeing Dave Alvin and the Guilty Men in DC... then today, it turns out that Pemagnet knows one of the band members and let him know about my review. Pemagnet's a new friend, someone I only "know" through this site, and only recently. What are the odds that I'd just happen to pop into a club and see a band I didn't know before but really enjoyed... and then someone who just started coming to this site just happened to be friends with someone in that band?
Another - perhaps more amusing - example of the small world phenomenon happened to the Doc and I today. At work, some colleagues of mine received an invitation to a trade show in our business... a trade show that the Doc has been to more than once and particularly enjoys. He even has blogged about it. As my colleagues and I looked through the invitation, we saw that one of the enticements the organizers were using was to list all the media coverage of last year's show. They must have just done a Google search for any mention of their show - because there it was in the invite, right between CNNfn and the Boston Globe: the Doc's site -- and complete with a link to his site!
At first, this was really, really cool (if undeserved, since Doc barely ever writes more than three lines before lazily linking to someone else's site or some other article). The Doc, listed as a real, live media source, just like the big kids at CNN and the Washington Post... being clicked to by reporters and our professional colleagues looking for actual insight or information. Trying to think of what I'd say in the IM I was about to send, I clicked onto the link to Doc's site.
It took me about 10 seconds to go from being amused to being horrified. It took me about that long to realize that a) the Doc has his real name on his site and is easily recognizable, as would be any of his friends or colleagues who've posted on it; b) the link wasn't to the archived post on the trade show, but to the front page; and c) Doc's front page featured his post from two weeks ago on the strange terms of endearment at the University of Colorado... and both his and my smart-ass and very off-color comments on other potential terms of endearment and the conversations that might ensue.
I am not sure I've ever typed faster than in the instant message window to Doc that said, "DUDE, THE LINK IS TO OUR TERMS OF ENDEARMENT CONVERSATION - GET IT THE #!@$ OFF THE SITE!" After a few minutes of emergency editing, we were able to share a really good belly laugh over the close call. But it wasn't funny while that conversation was up.
Now, what lessons did we learn from all of this? Maybe we should choose the subjects of our posts a little more carefully? Or maybe we should at least be a little more well-behaved in our comments?
Naaaaaaah. We just decided that the Doc has to change the name of his site a little.
DC WEEKEND
Sorry to have been off line for a few days. I was in DC for a three day weekend, hanging around with my brother, his wife, and my closest friends from back in the day. It was a great weekend - reminded me how much I miss that whole area, and how badly I miss my friends. And I didn't walk too badly for most of the weekend - I was sore still, but was much less uncomfortable than I'd been for most of the week. So all in all, it was a great time -- great cookout with good friends on Saturday night, cigars on my brother's balcony Sunday afternoon, and a new band for me to be into.
A couple of other highlights:
-- Ate out a couple of times - once at an old favorite (the Boulevard Wood Grill), and once at a new place my brother and I found (Harry's Tap Room). If you're in the area and check out Harry's, I recommend the mussels.
-- Friday night brought the discovery of a new club and a new blues act for me to dig. We ended up not getting tickets to Farenheit 9/11 - it was sold out - so we wandered down the street to the Iota Club, which is a very small hole in the wall that happens to be a great place to catch live music. I really liked that club. And my friends humored me - I'm the only blues man in the bunch, and they could have asked to go somewhere else... they didn't. Good for me -- the headline act was pure country-tinged blues: Dave Alvin and the Guilty Men. I'm not sure what the rest of my friends thought, but I was in heaven. It was a great show. I ended up buying the CD on the way out, and I listened to it about 3 times on the drive home. This is the kind of music I fell in love with last year, and I was really glad to catch an unexpected show while we were out bouncing around. If you're a blues fan at all, I recommend their new CD, "Ashgrove." The best song is "Sinful Daughter," if you're looking on iTunes or anywhere.
-- Saturday morning, I went back into my old 'hood and meet up with my friend, Kari (whom I've been friends with for longer than anyone else I still talk to) for brunch at Eastern Market before just wandering the market... if and when I buy a place, I could find a lot of household items here, let me tell you!
For the next few days I'll probably be back in my "I want to move back to Washington" kick, so be prepared to either bear with me or humor me. Anyway, for my friends who were with me this weekend, thanks for the great weekend and for the kind of celebration I really enjoy.
DOES THE FCC GET TO FINE THE BUSH ADMINISTRATION?
So our classless Vice President used the f-word on the Senate floor, and Republicans from Bush to Frist are refusing to condemn or chastise Cheney for it. Not surprising. I always knew that the Republican talk about respect and honor for the country's buildings, offices and institutions was just a bunch of hooey. Will the next Vice President "restore honor and dignity" to the Senate floor?
Also just curious... you know all those heightened fines that conservatives just ramrodded through Congress for FCC "decency" violations? How come if Howard Stern says it, it's a fine -- but when Cheney says it on the Senate floor, it's okay? By the standards that the hypocrites just shoved our throats, I figure Cheney's use of the f-word and subsequent defense of having done so... well, according to the rules, the Bush Administration ought to be fined about a half million dollars.
How come conservatives in the Bible Belt have such a huge problem when the f-word is used in Hollywood movies, but they're remaining remarkably silent when the Vice-President of the United States uses that same word? Why were they whining about the FCC not nailing Bono for using the word on an awards show, but they're not jumping up and down in protest at the Vice-President's choice of the same word? Are they saying that a rock musician has a greater responsibility for setting an example than the Vice President?
Just the latest in the long, long line of Republican hypocrisy... whining when those they don't like do something, but then turning a blind eye when their own do the exact same thing.
June 27, 2004
IF YOU BUILD IT, THEY WILL COME
I'm not one of those people who thinks that Farenheit 9/11 is going to change a single mind. I think that the conservative complaints to the FEC, as well as liberal entreaties that "everyone" should see this film... well, I think they're stupid. People like me who hate George W. Bush and consider him a treasonous snake... well, we're going to love this movie. People who inexplicably like Bush will not like it one bit. But people's opinion's about Bush's war and about Bush himself were formed a long time ago, and very few people are on the fence... and no movie is going to suddenly take someone fron one side to the other. So all the talk about the film's impact on the election season is, I think, misguided at best and deliberately disingenuous at worst.
I think the more important thing isn't found in what the movie says... it's found in how many people wanted to hear it. Farenheit 9/11 took in $21.96 million at the box office this weekend - shattering all-time records for documentaries even in their full run. The film is the first documentary ever to debut at #1. It's setting 'per-screen' records and taking in more than $25,000 per screen ("White Chicks," in comparison, was the week's #2 film and took in about $7900 per screen). On a personal level, when I went to a theater in Arlington, Virginia on Friday afternoon around 3:00 to try and buy tickets for the 10:10 show, there was a line that circled around the building 1 1/2 times.
Conservatives are already dismissing the numbers and the crowds by saying that crowds were whipped up by Hollywood liberals and media hype. They're right. But... look at how many people answered the call. When Hollywood and liberals started sounding the bell and saying, "This movie tells you what Bush really is," so many people are so angry with George W. Bush -- so many people want to see him disparaged -- that the film was the #1 film in the country.
Conservatives who whine about Hollywood liberals here are missing the point. Yes, unquestionably this film is biased and carries a blatantly anti-Bush message. But guess what? The people sure seem to want to hear that message. A great number of Americans -- I would argue the majority -- hate George W. Bush. If Bush was popular and people felt good about his leadership, this film would have opened to a six figure gross and would have gone to DVD within two months. But people show up when given a chance to see a message they agree with and want reinforced. So the point about liberals whipping up interest in the film is moot. If no one wanted to hear the message, no one would have bought tickets.
Instead, we are a nation that by and large is fed up with this disgusting cowboy and wants to believe that he's a negligent, bad man. We are nation that responded to a blatantly biased film by embracing its message. "The Voice" that spoke to Kevin Costner in Field of Dreams seems also to have spoken to Michael Moore; he built it, and the American people came.
June 23, 2004
UNENGAGED BRAINS
I spent the first third of my professional life in politics, surrounded by politicians. I got to know some of them, even a few of their families. I got to know the scene in Washington, and the people who spend their days -- and often nights and weekends -- working for the people of the United States of America. I got to know a few of them quite well, actually. And so I am generally defensive when it comes to politicians.
Yeah, some of them are flat out dangerous and evil people - Tom DeLay and Dick Cheney come to mind. But most of them, even the ones I disagree with, are good people with whom I just happen to disagree. And nothing cheeses me off worse when some uninformed Joe SixPack dismisses Washington and all forms of politics with a judgmental wave of the hand and the line, "Ahh, politicians are all crooked." To me, that's just a cop-out -- an excuse for not getting involved in one's government or for even paying attention to the news, or a flimsy justification for an inordinate amount of complaining while doing nothing about it.
Are some politicians crooked? Yep. Without question. But you know what? Some cops engage in brutality; some teachers and principals have kiddie porn on their home computers; and some businessmen bilk their shareholders out of billions of dollars. Yet we don't dismiss other entire professions on the actions of a few. Perhaps only lawyers are maligned as much as politicians - for reasons that more often have to do with laziness on the part of their accusers.
That said... every now and then, politicians - even those I consider the good ones - do something so stupid that even I just shake my head and say, "What the hell were you thinking?" Today's Washington Post provided me with one such occasion.
It seems that about three months ago, several members of Congress - of both parties, but apparently more Democrats than Republicans - showed up at a Capitol Hill reception honoring the Reverend Sun Myung Moon. You know, the cult leader who marries 7,000 couples at a time who met approximately an hour earlier... the guy who's done time for tax fraud and obstruction of justice... the guy who's called homosexuals "dogs"... you know, the one who's one step up from Jim Jones? Yes, that guy.
At this reception, Rev. Moon (who happens to own Washington's right-wing newspaper, the Times) proclaimed himself the Messiah. Moon said he had been "sent to Earth... to save the world's six billion people... Emperors, kings and presidents... have declared to all Heaven and Earth that Reverend Sun Myung Moon is none other than humanity's Savior, Messiah, Returning Lord and True Parent." Additionally, Moon was crowned at the reception. Yep, crowned. Wearing white gloves, Rep. Danny Davis (D-IL)carried the ornate crown on a pillow before it was placed on Moon's head.
Worse yet, Moon proclaimed himself to be in spiritual contact with the 20th century's worst, most evil butchers. At the March 23 event, he said: "The founders of five great religions and many other leaders in the spirit world, including even Communist leaders such as Marx and Lenin... and dictators such as Hitler and Stalin, have found strength in my teachings, mended their ways and been reborn as new persons."
Okay, so upon seeing and hearing this bizarre spectacle, what did the Congressional attendees do: a)leave the reception as soon as the notorious Moon appeared in the room; b) stay out of formality, but walk out on the perverse ceremony as soon as Moon began his Messianic rantings; c) stand up to confront Moon when he claimed to have impacted Hitler's spirituality; or d) stay for the whole thing and say nothing at all to anyone until the press uncovered the details - and then claim to have been misled about the event?
If you chose "d," you win the grand prize.
The list of members of Congress who were there and who let this pass for three months spans both parties. How no one stood up to this bizarre, sick, perverse idiot and repudiated him on the spot is simply beyond me. Rep. Davis should be recalled for his role in the affair. And sadly, a Senator I considered a good man, Senator Mark Dayton (D-Minnesota) was there too.
I've given money to Dayton's campaign. I get the mass-mailed holiday card every year. I've supported him since his candidacy for the Senate began. And I'm infuriated that he showed up at this thing, much less kept silent. Now, Dayton's spokesperson claims that the Senator was "duped" and that he thought he was honoring a constituent who was receiving a peace award. I've got two problems with that spin.
First of all, why would you attend an event featuring Sun Myung Moon in the first place? What possible credibility did you attach to an award being handed out by the King of the Moonies? Secondly, if you really were duped, Senator, and didn't know Moon would be there... why'd you stay? And since you stayed, how on earth could you remain silent when Moon proclaimed himself the Messiah? How about when he claimed spiritual solidarity with Hitler and Stalin?
Dayton won't ever get another dime of my money. Not because he showed up at the event - I know DC well enough to understand that he may have been scheduled there by some 22 year old office manager who had no idea what he/she was getting the boss into. No, I'm going to disassociate with Dayton because he stayed at the event, and remained silent both during the event and after - until the press got a hold of it.
At least Dayton is offering an ostensibly noble reason for attending in the first place, flawed though his logic might be. Rep. Roscoe G. Bartlett (R-MD) says he knew that Moon would be there - but the Republican attended the event to show support for the Washington Times, that raggedy semblance of a newspaper that Moon owns. Bartlett doesn't even have enough shame to hide the fact that he knew Moon would be there; he freely admits that no matter how loony the ideas someone espouses, if the loony is on the right wing, Bartlett will be there for him. You know what? Lyndon LaRouche runs as a Democrat. If he holds a reception and I am a Congressman and am invited to attend, I don't give a rat's ass what papers LaRouche may own - I'm not showing up. What a slimy toadstool that guy is! The citizens of Maryland must be proud of their automaton Congressman who is so eager to march in lockstep with all things conservative that he'll show up for a reception honoring a cult leader.
The list of other attendees at this reception includes Walter Fauntroy (former DC delegate to Congress) and Rep. Elijah Cummings (D-MD), as well as Rep. Curt Weldon (R-PA) (who spoke at the reception!), Dayton and Bartlett.
There they are, kids: the members of Congress who remained silent while a cult leader proclaimed himself the Messiah. This time, you won't find me defending politicians; say whatever you want about these bozos. They've earned it.
ROCK AND ROLL NEVER FORGETS
My ears are still ringing, but I don't care. My bad leg is throbbing, but I don't mind so much. I saw Van Halen last night, and they turned back the clock.
Tim and I have developed something of a little tradition over the last couple of years. We go see a concert by a band that was huge when we were teenagers. Last summer, it was Metallica. Last night, it was the reunited Van Halen. Now, I think Tim may have been a bigger Metallica fan; but for me, it's this simple: I liked Metallica, but I loved Van Halen. So I was looking even more forward to last night's show than the Metallica show last year. And I wasn't disappointed.
First, I should acknowledge that I have become what I once disdained: an aging rocker who goes to concerts by 50 year olds whose glory days are fifteen years behind them. I used to spew bile at baby boomers who paid money to go see the Rolling Stones play in the late 80s and into the 90s... "They're old! They're has-beens! Their last hit was 10 years ago! And besides, rock is a young person's style, it's frankly sad and undignified for 50+ year olds to still be prancing around on stage in front of the 35 and over set. Why don't these people just accept their age gracefully and move on to retirement communities and complaining that their kids' music is too loud?"
Well, now I know why. Because even at 50+, guys can still rock. And Tim and I weren't 35 last night, we were 19.
Van Halen is back together, featuring Sammy Hagar once again at lead vocal, and featuring one of the best collections of musicians rock ever produced. I have to admit, though, that I was worried at first. First of all, their opening act, a band undeserving of being named on this site even in belittlement, was so bad that I can honestly say I've never seen a worse warmup act.
Second, as we looked around the arena, Tim and I realized that we really were about the youngest ones in the crowd. There were mini-vans in the parking lot with those damned annoying, "My kid is an honor student at Pretentious Middle School" bumper stickers. Most of the crowd had bigger waistline problems than I did. And where at most rock concerts, it takes only about 20 minutes before the bawdy, uninhibited "Show your tits!" chant begins, aimed at any one of the nubiles in the crowd... no such chants were heard last night. You can say that's because the older crowd was simply more mature... but the painful truth is, had any woman there last night tried to so delight the crowd, the chant would have quickly gone up, "Put those back!" It's a sad realization when you look around a concert crowd and understand that a band that was not only big, but ridiculously influential back in your day simply has no relevance to anyone younger than you. You could have counted the under-25 set last night on your fingers and toes.
Their loss. The boys kicked ass. They've lost nothing, I can assure you. From the moment they opened with "Jump" until the end of their second encore, those 50somethings turned back the clock. For two hours, it was 1986. I forgot about my bad leg and remembered why I love this band.
The focus is always on Eddie Van Halen's otherworldly guitar talents -- deservedly so, because even at 50 he is still amazing, still a better guitarist than most of the tattooed and pierced kids half his age who dominate the scene today... Eddie laid down a 15 minute solo last night that was worth the $60 admission just by itself - I would pay it all over again gladly just to see Eddie work his magic for fifteen more minutes. The awed crowd stood at fever pitch for the whole solo, repeatedly breaking into chants of "Eddie! Eddie!". At at least two points, Eddie seemed visibly moved and stopped playing, covering his eyes with his hands for a few moments. (Given what he's been through in the last couple of years - tongue cancer, a divorce, hip replacement surgery - it's got to feel gratifying to him to have that kind of adulation going on.) And he looks good on stage. Tim and I both had the same reaction during the first song: "For a guy with hip-replacement, he's moving pretty good up there!"
But what non-fans sometimes don't realize is that the rest of the band are incredibly talented as well. I'll put Alex Van Halen on the list of the ten best rock drummers of all time - and Michael Anthony makes my list of the top five bassists of all time. And Sammy's still Sammy - able to scream at pitches that should injure him, bouncing around like an enthusiastic kid on stage, and able to play a pretty good guitar when he feels like it. Best of all, they're clearly having fun being together again.
The set list was great. "Right Now," "Panama," "Ain't Talkin' Bout Love," and "Why Can't This Be Love?" are freakin' amazing live. Eddie's still a giant on guitar, and he can still do the solo from "Eruption" as well as he did it as a 20 year old.
It wasn't all perfect; "When It's Love" is a good song but I think is rather weak for ending your show on... I could have done without "Dreams," which was always a weak song... and just once I wish they'd play "Dance The Night Away" live. I could also certainly do without Sammy's juvenile sexual banter on stage - what was once mildly amusing when said about anonymous groupies now sounds frankly a little creepy when said about his wife... and I really didn't need to know about the body shaving habits of a 56 year old man.
But on the whole, these are minor nits. The show was one of the best and most fun concerts I've ever attended. If you have a chance to see them when they come to your town, bring earplugs, and be ready to turn back the clock... because the boys are back.
DRAFT BRUCE!
This is a great idea and I'm all for it. A New York area club owner has reserved the 78,000 seat Giants Stadium for September 1 - the day the Republicans renominate the cowboy puppet across the river at Madison Square Garden. This guy wants to organize a concert whose proceeds will go toward defeating Bush, and will also provide a counterpoint to the propaganda fest eminating from Manhattan that night. And he wants Bruce Springsteen to headline it.
He wants Springsteen so badly that he's started up a Website with a petition - he's hoping for 500,000 signatures, and then he'll submit the fan signatures to Bruce in hopes that Springsteen will agree to play. The thought would be that once the Boss signs on, dozens of other acts would also follow.
I'm all in favor of this. I signed the petition, and I urge you to do the same. I'm also going to submit a couple of blogs to their site - they're looking for bloggers to help them get attention for the event. This is a great cause, and I urge you to support it as best you can.
THE WHEELS ARE COMING OFF THE MACHINE
It's ironic since I chose a career in the field of hyping things, but I hate anything that's overhyped. Anything or anyone who gets massive amounts of attention, lots of fawning media, or the love of the millions of sheep-citizens who like whatever they're told is "in" to like... well, it's almost a dead-lock cinch that I'm gonna hate it or them - and will close my mind to them often without giving it a chance. I just hate hype. This peculiarity of mine ranges from the Harry Potter books to feng shui to Six Feet Under and The Sorpranos.
It also extends to people - the more someone is proclaimed great by the media, the more I dislike the person. And one of my least favorite athletes in all of sport is Tiger Woods. I hate that his maniacal father programmed him like a robot from the day of his birth. I hate that Nike handed him a $45 million dollar endorsement deal before he'd ever even won a tournament. I hate that in every golf tournament, the headline or radio update is always to the tune of, "Tiger Woods shot a 74 today and is 6 over - 11 shots off the lead at the Generic Classic today in Podunk. [Insert name of any other golfer] is the leader with one round to play." (Who the frick cares how far Tiger stupid Woods is back? Some poor slob is winning a tournament, and you're denying him his time in the spotlight to tell me that one other guy is 11 shots back?)
So it's giving me great pleasure to see the wheels coming off of the robotic hype machine that is Tiger Woods. I've always suspected that Woods is probably not a real good guy - for which I blame his controlling, programming father... how can anybody who was raised for one thing and one thing only have any element of a decent personality - and how can anyone who's fawned over and told by the media and adoring sheep fans that he's the greatest ever have any semblance of humility? Well, Woods has not only been playing mediocre golf for two-plus years, but now he's showing his true personality - and the press is noticiing.
Monday's Washington Post contained this column about what a spoiled little punk Woods is turning out to be. My favorite parts?
At what point do we say this is no slump, this is who Tiger Woods really is? What if the former Wonder Boy is just a sour complainer named Eldrick whose manners are as lousy as his play is disappointing? ... My first suggestion for Woods's immediate and long-term recovery is that he spend four years in the Peace Corps. Planting crops in Ethiopia or Zaire while teaching children to read and write would have a salutary effect on his attitude, which at the moment resembles that of a spoiled Venetian princess...
NBC analyst Johnny Miller, who may be the most truthful voice in sports television, summed up Woods's reaction. Miller said, "What's really amazing is to notice... is how sensitive the players are to anything that isn't just lamby-pamby nice."
Miller hit it right on the head: Tiger Woods can't handle it if you won't kiss his ass. If you're going to be honest or candid in your assessment, if you're going to be at all critical, he can't take it, and he turns into a jerk. He's not that far from Barry Bonds territory - and after the last decade of Tiger Woods saturation, these days are the first time I've actually enjoyed media coverage of him.
June 22, 2004
PROGRESS... AND THEN A BIG SETBACK
So I've been doing well on the diet - have really done well at watching what I eat, have cut out non-diet soda completely, am drinking a ton of water, have cut back on portion size... and it's been working; I'm down 3 more pounds. Yes, I have reached my first "milestone" weight and am down to 250. So that's definitely progress.
The one thing I wasn't happy with was that I am still as lousy as ever at making time to exercise. (And you have to make time, because it's not like the world gives you any.) I didn't get to the gym once last week. I was unhappy with myself over that. So last night when the softball team I signed up for (and then never showed up to play for) had its sixth gsme of the season, I was psyched to actually get out of work early enough to play. Yeah, it's not "real" exercise, but it's doing something, and that's better than I had been doing.
So I played second base. And it went pretty well for most of the game. I made one rusty error -- ranged to my right to get a ball hit up the middle, actually got there before the ball, but just didn't get my glove down in time -- but I also made about five or six other plays, and we actually came close to turning a couple of double plays. I was 0 for 2 at the plate, but the second time I really got ahold of one, laced a nice slicing line drive into deep left... only the other team's left fielder was playing me deep and only had to take about 4 steps back to make the catch. But I did really put a charge into it - hit it further than I figured I would. Not bad for not having played ball in almost two years, right?
So in the 7th and final inning, I'm at second base and the batter laces a line drive right up the middle about 8 feet high, just over glove range even if I'd have been playing him right up the middle. I know from previous at bats that the guy is a slow runner - he's about 50 and has a bigger belly than me, so he is pretty much jogging the bases -- so I figure I don't need to cover second... I take a couple of steps toward the outfield to take the cover throw. It comes in low and to my left as I face the OF, the ball veering toward the shortstop and coming to me about ankle-high. I bent low to get the throw, and stretched out to the left. And just as the ball as about to hit my glove, inexplicably I hear, "HE'S COMING!"
What? The slow guy's gonna try and beat me to the bag? I don't believe it. I'm thinking, "The ball's coming in about 5 steps from the base - he's not really going to try and take second, he knows he doesn't have the speed... but if he took a wide turn coming off first, I can gun him down if I can pivot and get the throw to first... that old man is toast!" So while bent at the waist and slightly at the knee, and while still in the process of making the catch, my 36 year old body is also trying to pivot toward first base, my hand already reaching for the ball that's not quite in my glove yet... it's going to be a great heads-up play, right?
I'm sure you can guess the sound and sensation I heard and felt next. Rrrrrrrrrrrip!
I've never been shot, never received a bullet wound. But if I ever am, I imagine it would feel something like the sensation that suddenly tore through my left groin. Instant burning - sharp, sudden, and intense. The ball bounced off my glove as I fell to my hands and knees. As it turned out, the guy hadn't even been thinking of coming to second... he'd just rounded first widely and one of my teammates overreacted. But the second I stood up, I knew I was coming out of the game. For the rest of the game, I cheered my teammates from the bench, occasionally shouting out, "Avenge me! Do it for the groin!" Naturally, they lost.
After the game, we went for the traditional post-game beer. (The bar is on a slight hill, which made for an excruciating hobble up the incline from the parking lot to the door.) About fifteen minutes into the post-game celebration, I went to the restroom. And let me tell you, there are few more startling experiences in life than a man seeing deep purple and black discoloration anywhere near a particular area of his body.
To make a long story shorter (I know, too late), I have a badly pulled groin. I ended up going to have it looked at (a humbling experience, being repeatedly told to drop trou by strangers!), and they told me pretty much what I already knew... the only cure is rest, unless you've torn it from the bone. It's going to hurt and take a long time to heal, and the only way to heal it is to rest it. Here, kid - wrap it, and ice the hell out of it when you get home. So I spent the rest of the night with ice wedged between my legs... which is another wholly unpleasant experience.
So the exercise part of the plan is off indefinitely. I'm supposed to go back later this week or early next once the swelling goes down (no jokes, and that means you, Erika!) to make sure it's not an off-the-bone tear. Other than that, all I can do it rest it. This will make the weight loss all the more challenging, and probably much slower than I'd have liked. Not to mention the ignominy of having hurt my groin in front of a bunch of guys I work with - I can guarantee the group e-mails this morning are going to have a field day with me!
Anyway, that was my night. How was yours?
June 20, 2004
DEAR DAD: HAPPY FATHER'S DAY
Happy Father's Day, Dad.
I don't know why it always seems easier to tell you how much I appreciate you when I'm writing it. It's fitting, though - I'm a writer because of you. Don't get me wrong, Mom's a better writer than either one of us, and I think she taught me how to write. But from you I learned how to find what to write about. You have the perceptive quality of a writer, though you may not know it. You call it "people-watching," but what you're really doing is observing how the world works. You may think you're just being friendly when you strike up conversations with total strangers, but what you're really doing is seeing what makes people tick. I describe that as someone having a "writer's eye."
And that's the one part of writing that no one can ever teach - you either have it or you don't. They can teach you grammar and conjugation; they can teach you the basic structures and forms and the how-tos of different kinds of writing. But unless you have that innate way of seeing the world, and picking out the little details that might go unnoticed by others -- and making them the center of your observation... you're not really a writer. Writing without it is like a chef skipping the spices in a dish. Sure, you can follow the recipe, but without the spices it just doesn't stand out. That eye is what makes a writer a writer; it's what helps him write even when he has no idea what he's going to write about.
I got my eye from you, Dad, and I just wanted to say thank you.
We've settled into a good relationship now, Dad, as we've both gotten older and maybe mellowed out a little. I know you remember that it wasn't always this way; for the longest time when I was younger, we butted heads a lot. We weren't awful, but for a few years there we were mountain rams, charging full on at each other, heads down, shoulders braced for impact, and neither one stopping. I used to think we were that way because we just didn't understand one another, that I would never understand your world and you'd never understand mine. I'm old enough now to realize that that wasn't the case at all. It was because I'm so much like you that neither one of us had a clue what to do with the other.
So often now, I hear you whenever I am talking. Some of the things I say, I could have just taken a tape recording of you from 20 years ago and hit "play" now. (You should hear me complain to my friends about people at work who try my patience - even Mom would swear it was you talking about your old supervisor!) And my un-serious demanor - I'm always looking to slip in the one-liner or make the smart-aleck remark that gets everyone to crack up - you might swear you were looking into a mirror. (Well... a youth-inducing mirror. I'm younger and much better looking. And my jokes aren't as corny as yours, either.) My sense of humor has served me well; it's made me friends, it's helped keep me sane in trying times, and I'm finally now learning to use it to control tense situations and turn them to my benefit.
I got my appreciation of humor from you, Dad, and I just wanted to say thank you.
Nothing, not even writing, gives me more enjoyment than baseball. I still miss playing today as much as the day I stopped. I love everything about the game, can recite statistics from every season in my lifetime, know the winner of just about every World Series, and will watch even an Expos-Rockies game over just about anything else on television. I'm more passionate about baseball than anything else in my life. I'm pretty sure I got that from you. I mean, even my very first conscious television sports memory is watching the Fisk home run to end Game 6 of the '75 Series. You coached my first Little League team, taught me to hit, and taught me to think the game, not just to play it. You cheered for the Dodgers every year, whether they were good or bad... patience I would eventually need as a Red Sox fan. Thanks for giving me all that, Dad. (By the way, my Sox beat your Dodgers 2 out of 3 last weekend. You owe me lunch.)
There are also things I got from you that I'm not as happy about. Your ever-more-thin-on-top hairline, for starters. I also inherited your stubborn nature, the one that makes The Murray Answer the only right answer, and The Murray Way the only way to do something. (Unless, of course, the Murray Answer and the Murray Way aren't the Christopher Answer and the Christopher Way. Then, my answer and my way are right.) I get as obsessive about the things I like as you do about the things you like - which isn't always a good thing. But even the things I didn't necessarily want still make me who I am, and so I guess I should thank you for these too.
You're in better shape at 66 than I am at 36 - but that's in part due to health scares that inspired you to take better care of yourself. While I've inherited the genetics, I hope I've also inherited your determination that none of these things will get in the way, that they're merely obstacles to be overcome and then left behind. Thanks for showing me that, too.
When you were my age, you had a 6 year old and a 4 year old. I think I've been delaying because karma knows that it'll take me a few years longer to be ready to do as well at fatherhood as you did. But if and when that time comes for me, I'll have a great example to follow. Thanks for that too, Dad.
Neither my brother nor I would be where we are in this world without your guidance and without the sacrfices you made. I just wanted to be sure you knew that we know it... and that we're grateful.
Happy Father's Day, Dad.
IT'S BA-A-A-A-A-A-ACK!
I enjoy so few television shows anymore that when I find one, I tend to get a touch obsessive about it. Those of you who were with me last fall may remember how much I enjoyed the Joe Schmo Show (which comes out on DVD on Tuesday). Since it finished its run, I've been waiting for the DVD and hoping to find another show I enjoy as much. Well, the sequel is out: Joe Schmo 2 began its run this week, and I just caught the opening episode.
It's hard for me to believe that they can top the original - which was a brilliant satire of reality TV and a fascinating display of improvisational acting, and was totally fresh... it came before My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiancee or whatever it was. And I was a huge fan of Angela Dodson, who played "Molly" on the first version.
But after the first episode of the second season, I think I have found a new favorite (no offense, Angela, in case you ever Google search yourself and show up here... you'll always be my first Schmo love!). Ingrid Wiese, the "Jane Schmo" victim of the second season's scam, has jumped instantly into my top ten list.
And it's not just because she's hot - although she's absolutely beautiful. She's also smart - works in international development and lists Madeline Albright as her heroine - and she even lives in Washington DC! Which means that, in theory, while I am hanging out down there next weekend with my brother and friends, I could possibly run into her in a bar or club. (In the nearly impossible chance that I do run into her, I'm so buying her a drink.) Okay, so it'll never happen. But I can dream, can't I?
The show itself this year is a spoof of "The Bachelor/ette" shows. If you're unfamiliar with the concept behind "Joe Schmo," a fake reality television show is prepared and produced... generally the parodies include several dead-on skewerings of the cliches found all over reality shows. But every memeber of the cast is an actor playing out a semi-scripted role -- except for the Schmo, or in this case Schmoes... who think they are competing on a real show. The actors have to improvise their lines on the way to making the intended outcome happen - while reacting to the real and unscripted reactions of the Schmoes to every set-up situation. It's a hysterical concept that is brilliant in execution.
"Joe Schmo 2" is on SpikeTV on Tuesday nights at 10 pm EDT, 9 CDT.
June 19, 2004
SUBMITTED FOR YOUR AMUSEMENT
This is sort of related to the post I'll do later... but it amused me enough to post this one separately. You know from reading earlier that I have a cat - so that might be why I'm inclined to laugh at the idea of marauding kitties in Viking helmets screaming, "Valhalla, I am coming!" in Robert Plant's voice.
Enjoy.
COOL INVENTION OF THE WEEK
Okay, I'm gonna be all over this one. I've been waiting for this invention my whole life: the "Chillow." I am a restless sleeper in part because I am always looking for the coolest side of the pillow... now here's a pillow that stays cool all the time!
It's called the Chillow. Chill + pillow = Chillow. It is a thin, flat foam pillow/insert that's made of super soft medical-grade materials that are hypoallergenic and nontoxic. You can rest your head right on top of the Chillow or put it in your pillow case on top of your favorite pillow...you first have to activate the Chillow by pouring two quarts of lukewarm water into its filling spout... slowly squeeze the excess air out of it... and that's it. Your Chillow never has to be activated again.
The Chillow uses no electricity, batteries, refrigeration or hocus pocus... It stays cool when you let air flow over it. If you want it even cooler for any reason, you can put the Chillow in the refrigerator for 15-30 minutes.
Next question: does it work. The answer is a resounding yes! First of all, I'm amazed that with all of the water you pour into it, that the outside always remains bone dry. When you put your head on the pillow you’re welcomed with a cool -- not cold -- pillow.
All this for only $29.99? Sign me up, man!
RALLY 'ROUND AN OLD FRIEND
Hey kids... do me a favor, stop by Marine's Girl's site this week and wish her well. She went in for some surgery this past week, and while it sounds like she'll be fine, I'm sure it would lift her spirits a little higher the more times someone stops by to wish her a speedy recovery. So do head over, and wish her well. And MG... get well soon, my friend.
IT'S ABOUT TIME
Finally. It took about two years too long, and the timing is extremely suspect... but it looks like the government is finally about to indict George W. Bush's good friend Ken Lay. The indictment comes as part of the investigation of the Enron collapse, in which corporate officers committed fraud that bilked more than 35,000 employees of their life savings.
Now, I'm betting that the timing is planned out so that Bush can point to his former friend and claim that he shows no favorites... that his Justice Department will go after anyone, no matter how high up they are. But the question we need to ask is: what took them so long? If Bush was really committed to holding corporate ma-fraud-ers accountable, why is the Justice Department only going after the Bush contirbutor now, five months before the election, when he can get some publicity out of it?
ISLAM'S PR PROBLEM
Like all Americans, I am filled with revulsion at the savageness with which Americans are being treated by militant Islamic fundamentalists affiliated with al Qaeda. Their barbarism and utter cowardice infuriates me. Like most thinking Americans, I am also aware that this hateful and animal-like behavior is not a reflection on true Islam, any more than the Spanish Inquisition's use of torture was a fair representation of Christianity.
But my patience is growing thin.
Look - I know that you can't hold the extremists against an entire religion... lord knows that I would hate to be defined as a Christian by someone like Pat Robertson, or Matthew Hale (who perverts Christianity into a defense of racism, bigotry and violence). But that's a logical thought - and humanity rarely operates on logic alone. One of the first things they tell you when you walk into a classroom as a communications student is still one of the truest: Perception is Reality. The truth is almost always less important than what people believe is true. And with every savage beheading, with every wanton display of disrespect for the value of individual lives... the perception of Islam grows colder in the eyes of the West.
You're right, it's not fair. It's also not fair that many Arabs -- victims of their own repressive governments, subject to a half century of propaganda, and knowing nothing or next to it of what America and Americans are really like -- choose to hate the United States even if they don't approve of all that is done in their name. But that is our collective reality: it does the US no good to complain that we should not be hated by the Arab "street," because we are. And it similarly does increasingly less good for the Muslim world at large to say that the extremists don't represent the true face of their religion -- because increasingly, they do. Perception is reality. We saw the film of Palestinians celebrating in the street on September 11-12, 2001. Perception is reality.
It's true that leading imams and most Islamic governments have condemned the brutality carried out in the name of their religion. But there are two problems with this. One, in the case of the Saudi government in particular, the condemnations have come only when the stability and survival of their own power is threatened. Savageness seems only to be an issue for them when they can't control it. The second problem is that these are only words.
No one need ever convince me of the power of words. I've been in awe of their beauty and power since I was a child. I make my living - and not an uncomfortable one at that - because I'm able to use words in ways others sometimes are not. Throughout history, words -- from those in the U.S. Constitution to Jesus' sermons -- have changed the world.
But the glaring tragic flaw of language is this: while words can move mountains and change history when they are accompanied by passion, by commitment, and by sincerity... they can also be used as a distraction or subterfuge when they are not. Words can bring out the best in us; they can also mask the worst in us. The difference is usually found in the actions that accompany them.
And in the case of the brutal and violent acts of barbarism against westerners - most recently beheadings, but preceded by the defiling and violation of dead bodies in Falljuah and Somalia, and by the deliberate targeting of innocent civilians for death on the grounds that their deaths will strike fear into the hearts of perceived enemies that remain - there are not enough actions to support the regretful words.
Have the Saudis really done everything they could to crush extremism in their country? Not when Wa'habi schools are allowed to continue spewing hateful bile toward the west. Have the Pakistanis really done everything it takes to capture Osama bin Laden and his followers and bring them to justice for their crimes? Not when their army rarely goes into the western mountain regions of their own country, choosing to call it a no-man's land ruled by warlords. Have ordinary Muslims in the Arab nations really done everything possible to purge this evil from their ranks? Not when, in interviews on the streets of Cairo, Amman, Riyadh, and Karachi, you hear the same rationalizations about US support for Israel over and over again... not to mention that we often hear them from the official spokesmen of Arab governments.
Evil is evil. There's no getting around it. And if you're committed to purging it from your own midst, there can be no rationalizations, there can be no excuses, and there can be no tolerance of it. Anything less, and your commitment is only words-deep. And while Americans should not ever believe that al Qaeda represents true Islam, we can be forgiven for thinking that the religion as a whole is not committed to stopping them or that Arab Muslims lack the conviction to purge the evil from their midst. Perception is reality.
And this is where the problem gets truly frightening. Because the extremists have sorely misjudged the impact of their actions. They believe that beheading innocent Americans will scare us. It does not; it merely angers us. They believe that their barabric violence will lessen our resolve. It does not; it merely strengthens our conviction. And while that may seem to be only words, history has taught us lessons that the followers of Islam would do well to remember: an angry America often reacts with unimaginable force, and a determined America does not stop until the job is done.
For now, most Americans don't yet lump all Muslims into one barbarous bunch. Most Americans still understand that the actions we see don't reflect Islam. But Islam has a PR problem. Because with every act of inhumanity, with every instance of savageness, the window for hatred opens a little wider, and the door for resolution inches a little closer to closed. If this is allowed to degenerate into a cultural armageddon between Islam and the West, everyone involved should remember who has the nukes, who has the planes, and who could turn a peninsula of sand into one giant sheet of glass in about 20 minutes.
Obviously, this is not what anyone wants. But to prevent attitudes from de-volving to a point where this seems acceptable to a majority of Americans, we're going to need to see action to back up the words -- action from Arab governments, and action from everyday Muslims on the street. Did no one in Riyadh know that a westerner was being held in an apartment in their neighborhood? Why were his captors not turned in? Why do we still here so many rationalizations in the Middle East? "Yes, we reject these acts because they are not true Islam -- but the United States has been unfair in its support of Israel and has oppressed the Islamic peoples, so what do you expect?"
Evil is evil; there is no room for rationalizing. Imagine the outcry in Arab nations if the US reaction to Abu Graib was to say, "Well sure, that was wrong -- but Arabs flew planes into our buildings and have blown up our embassies, so what do you expect?" No,the Arab nations demanded outrage, and they've gotten plenty of it from America, our current leadership not withstanding. Ordinary Americans have been sickened by the images out of Abu Graib; they have demanded accountability from our leadership over the abuses that occured. Some private groups even funded a filmed apology on behalf of the American people that was televised on al-Jazeera and al-Arabiyah. America has had its failings, but we have also reacted to root out the evil amongst us. We haven't just said we were outraged; we have done something about it.
Until Arab nations and Muslim peoples show a similar determination to back up their words with actions and to prove that there is no room in Islam for barbarism and terror, they are going to have a PR problem... one that increases in magnitude with every day that goes by, and one whose chances for a peaceful resolution fade with every incident.
June 18, 2004
THE SILENCE OF THE SHAMS
The 9/11 Commission has been studying the events of that day, and of the months and years that led up to it, for months now. They've been privy to information that few others have seen - and they've been analyzing it and reporting on it every day of 2004. The commission has now reported that no link was found that connected Saddam Hussein to al Qaeda, and that the much-cited meeting in Prague between Mohammed Atta and Iraqi intelligence never happened.
However, both George Bush and Dick Cheney are still standing by their wholly discredited story that Saddam Hussein was somehow linked to al Qaeda. I'd say they are inexplicably sticking to the story, but it's not inexplicable. Even faced with the facts, Bush and Cheney have no choice but to continue perpetrating the lie they've been telling for almost three years now.
You see, they took our country to war, and cost us $100+ billion and 800+ lives, on the basis of that lie. They can't change now. They're like Louden Downey in A Few Good Men, stuck on the stand while their carefully rehearsed cover story falls apart, and now looking up at their lawyer in panic while continuing to repeat the story no matter how obvious their perjury becomes.
They tried to avoid all this. Bush & Cheney did everything they could not to have this basic fact (that Saddam Hussein had nothing to do with 9/11) from becoming public - they did everything they could to kill the 9/11 Commission before it got to this point:
-- Bush initially opposed creating the commission at all, and then gave in to the political pressure.
-- Bush delayed giving the commission access to Presidential Daily Briefs, eventually allowing the commission to take a brief look at the documents and take White House-approved notes. And when he did, lo and behold, it turned out that Bush has been warned on August 6, 2001, that bin Laden was planning something in the States.
-- Bush opposed giving the Commission an extension to finish its work after White House delays made the Commission's original deadline impossible to meet. Only public pressure - even from fellow Republicans like John McCain - got him to grant the extension.
-- Bush didn't want to allow National Security Adviser Condoleezza Rice to testify publicly under oath, again giving in only after political pressure forced him to do so.
-- Bush tried to limit his own time in front of the commission as much as possible, trying to arrange a meeting only one hour long with only two commissioners. Bush eventually agreed to meet with the whole commission -- away from the public -- but only if the puppeteer Vice President was with him.
Now, caught in their lies, both men are trying to claim that the administration never said that Saddam was involved in 9/11. But their public record statements are coming back to haunt them... because even as late as September 2003, Cheney did imply an Iraq link to 9/11. He called Iraq the "geographic base of the terrorists who had us under assault now for many years, but most especially on 9/11."
And even with all this, both men are utterly incapable of acknowledging their error. This week, both of them pathetically stuck to their story, despite the rapid unraveling of their version of events. Bush said today, "The reason I keep insisting that there was a relationship between Iraq and Saddam and al Qaeda, because there was a relationship between Iraq and al Qaeda" And all this week, Cheney has been insistently proclaiming Hussein's al Qaeda ties.
You know who they remind me of? Jame Gumb, the serial killer villian in Silence of the Lambs. Even with the din of reality around them, they are as unable to hear it as Gumb was when he had the girl in the well. They, like he, kept repeating a mantra -- almost as a comfort to themselves than for the benefit of anyone listening. For Gumb, that mantra was "It puts the lotion in the basket." For Bush and Cheney, it is the assertion that Iraq had ties to al Qaeda before we invaded. The only difference is that in the movie, the line was delivered by an actor, while in reality they are delivered by true sociopaths.
Thankfully, the armor is rusting away, the wheels are falling off, and few people are buying the snake oil anymore, if I can borrow a phrase from Tim over at Blair's Blog. Editorials around the nation today echoed this one in USA Today, and columnists are sounding similar themes to Eleanor Clift's in this week's Newsweek:
No weapons of mass destruction. No Al Qaeda connection. No wonder George W. Bush is in denial. The finding of the 9/11 commission that there is no credible evidence linking Iraq to the September 11 attacks removed another pillar in the shaky rationale Bush used to justify the war.
You know, I used to think that Bush and Cheney were just obstinate, deceitful fanatics who deliberately lied in order to convince our country to incite a war that primarily benefitted their old oil cronies. And I still do. But part of me is also truly growing concerned that the leaders of this administration are mentally and emotionally unable to perceive or comprehend reality -- stuck in their own world with their own reality, the real world unable to intrude. And the only thing I can think of that is worse than having liars in charge is having sociopaths in charge. Unfortunately, kids, that may well be what we are dealing with.
ONE MAN'S WORLDWIDE CATASTROPHE IS ANOTHER MAN'S JUNK SCIENCE
If I told you that someone unexpected said publicly that they were concerned about global warming -- and that your choices were either the chairman of an oil company or the President of the United States... well, up until the regime of George W. Bush, it would have been a pretty safe bet to pick the American president. Sadly, nowadays we all knew instinctively that it couldn't have been Bush.
Ron Oxburgh, chairman of Shell Oil, gave a lengthy interview to the British paper The Guardian. In the interview, Lord Oxburgh admits that the impact of greenhouse gases on the world's environment has left him "really worried for the planet."
"No one can be comfortable at the prospect of continuing to pump out the amounts of carbon dioxide that we are pumping out at present... with consequences that we really can't predict but are probably not good."
So now we have even the head of one of the world's largest oil companies admitting that global warming is real, and that carbon dioxide emissions that result from the burning of fossil fuels are a major cause of the problem. Lord Oxburgh joins respected scientists from around the world who have been saying the same thing for years. In fact, about the only group in the world that does not accept this scientific fact... well, that group is our very own neocon cabal presently occupying the White House. They're still insisting that global warming is junk science... and their minions are boycotting Hollywood movies that feature global warming as a plot device, on the grounds that such movies perpetuate bad science.
The problem is, just like everything else in Bush's neocon castle, the wheels are falling off of the lie machine. When even big oil admits a problem, for Bush & team to continue keeping their heads in the sand is not only glaringly obstinate, but is flat out a dereliction of their duty.
Isn't that statement a bit extreme, you ask? I don't think so. Look at what's happening in the American west. They're in the grips of the worst drought in 500 years, according to the US Geological Survey. It's even worst than the Dust Bowl years - the Colorado River is flowing at one half the levels seen during the 1930s. A 500 year drought... one that impacts farming and the water supply for tens of millions of Americans... and the Bush response is to pretend nothing is happening while his oil friends get richer.
Every day with George W. Bush as our president brings greater embarassment and shame upon the name of the United States of America. It's sad what he's done to our reputation around the world, isn't it?
I'M NOT GONNA ESTHER! I DON'T EVEN KNOW 'ER!
I don't know about you, but for me, the phrase, "Esther Wannabe" just doesn't have the same ring.
Yes, by now I am sure you've hear that Madonna has changed her persona yet again. Now the Material Girl wants to be called "Esther" - after the ancient Hebrew queen celebrated during the festival of Purim. She is doing this as a reflection of her interest in the Jewish mysticism known as Kabbalah.
In the wonderful barbershop scene in Coming To America, the characters are discussing Muhammed Ali. One of them refuses to call the champ Ali, saying, "His momma call him Clay; I'mo call him Clay." I feel the same way about Madonnasther. She's always going to be Madonna to me. You know, Madonna burst onto the scene at about the same time as Prince. She ought to call him up and ask him how that name change thing worked for him.
I also think the timing of Madonna's newfound prim persona is no accident. She told ABC that she has moved beyond her old, more blatantly sexual persona.
"I did spend, you know, at least a decade taking my clothes off and being photographed, saying bad words on TV, and, you know, that sort of thing," she told ABC's Cynthia McFadden. "I don’t regret it, but it's just... I mean everybody takes their clothes off now. And then what? You know? And -- and then what?"
You know, that's a real nice sentiment, Madonnasther. Of course, you are going to be 46 this summer. And the last time I checked, there was not a whole lot of demand in Hollywood for naked 46 year old women. It's so nice that you've decided that you're done being overtly sexual and naked at just about the same time that people are going to stop being interested in your sexuality. (I'm not insulting older women, by the way... not saying that a 46 year woman can't be hot. I am talking about the entertainment industry's lack of interest in any woman over 30.) If it's easier for you to say that you don't want to be naked anymore than it is to accept that no one wants to see you naked anymore, then fine.
You know, this whole escapade has just further convinced me of two truisms: one, that famous people are generally freaks; and secondly, that religion really messes with people's heads.
A DISGUSTING WAY TO SPEND AN EVENING
There's nothing worse than being awakened from a deep sleep at 12:30 in the morning by the sound of your cat hacking up a lung and sounding like Ferris Bueller's synthesized coughs to convince the freshman he was dying.
Wait... actually it's worse to sort of half-rouse yourself into just enough consciousness to hear the cat convulsing like the Alien is going to emerge from its stomach, as you realize that this time it's not just going to be a hairball that comes out of your cat. But that's it. That's the only thing worse than being awakened from a deep sleep at 12:30 in the morning by the sound of your cat hacking up a lung and sounding like Ferris Bueller's synthesized coughs to convince the freshman he was dying.
Well, wait... actually, it's worse to sit bolt upright in bed, looking for the cat to see where he is and what he's about to puke on, and realizing that you can't see him... in fact, you know that you will smell him before you see him. But that's it. That's the only thing that's worse than half-rousing yourself into just enough consciousness to hear the cat convulsing like the Alien is going to emerge from its stomach, as you realize that this time it's not just going to be a hairball that comes out of your cat.
Wait... really, if you think about it, it's worse to stumble half-awake through your darkened apartment looking for the cat, only to find him perched unhappily atop a pair of your good work khakis that you left in a pile on the floor when you got home, because you'd had a long day and just wanted to get to bed. But that's it. That's the only thing that's worse than sitting bolt upright in bed, looking for the cat to see where he is and what he's about to puke on, and realizing that you can't see him... and knowing that you will smell him before you see him.
Um... actually, there's something worse than that. It's seeing the disgusting pile of cat vomit all over the inside-out thighs of your good work khakis, and realizing that even if you could get the stain out, you'll never wear those pants again. That's the only thing worse than stumbling half-awake through your darkened apartment looking for the cat, only to find him perched unhappily atop a pair of your good work khakis that you left in a pile on the floor when you got home, because you'd had a long day and just wanted to get to bed.
Actually, I thought of another thing that's worse... staring at this gag-inducing tableau and realizing that you're out of paper towels, and that you need to get dressed at 12:45 in the morning and run to the 24 hour convenience store around the corner for some emergency Bounty to try and soak up as much of the cat's mess as possible before the stain soaks through the now-destined for the trash bin khakis and sets into the rug along with the acrid smell that goes with it. But that's the only thing that's worse than seeing the disgusting pile of cat vomit all over the inside-out thighs of your good work khakis, and realizing that even if you could get the stain out, you'll never wear those pants again.
You know, maybe it would be worse to get back inside the apartment at 1:00 am and realize that you're too late -- that the smell has now permeated the apartment and is thoroughly unavoidable as you try to get back to sleep. But that would be the only thing worse than staring at the gag-inducing tableau and realizing that you're out of paper towels, and that you need to get dressed at 12:45 in the morning and run to the 24 hour convenience store around the corner for some emergency Bounty to try and soak up as much of the cat's mess as possible before the stain soaks through the now-destined for the trash bin khakis and sets into the rug along with the acrid smell that goes with it.
Gosh, I had a pleasant evening.
June 16, 2004
THE PROOF IS IN THE PANDING
Here in Curmudgeonland, we've always been pretty open-minded about matters of the libido. It's an attitude we've tried to encourage others to adopt, at times more fervently than others. Well... the animal kingdom has served us up a nice helping of support in our endeavors. It would seem that a female panda in China has proven the value of watching porn... she's become pregnant - no small feat for the notoriously hard-to-breed animal.
Chinese veterinarians, concerned that she had little knowledge of sex after living only in captivity, showed her videos of mating pandas to prepare her for a series of "blind dates." That education appears to have paid off. Hua Mei became pregnant by natural means and is due in September.
I'm not sure when or how, but you can bet this is one story that I will manage to work into conversations in the future when any future partner of mine is expressing the desire to have a baby.
BUZZKILL
A truck in Montana carrying 9,000,000 honeybees overturned and skidded into a guard rail on Monday. The bees were not exactly thankful for having been released.
The bees buzzed furiously as driver Lane Miller, his arm scraped to the bone, struggled to flee his rig after it overturned Monday in Bear Trap Canyon west of Bozeman... The state road was closed for 14 hours as crews and beekeepers cleaned up the 512 hives Miller was hauling from Idaho to North Dakota. In spite of bee suits and extra clothing, beekeeper Gary Clark said he counted about 60 stings of his own.
"Everybody had literally thousands of bees on them, in their hats and on their suits," Clark said. "When we pulled the boxes out, big globs of them would fall on us." Firefighters directing traffic also suffered stings.
Okay, even if I weren't hyper-sensitive to bee stings, this is one job I am pretty sure I would have told the dispatcher to take and shove. In spite of bee suits and extra clothing, a beekeeper got 60 stings? Man, if that were me, I think I'd be on my way to the hospital - to find the driver's room, peel off the bandage on his arm and pour an entire cannister of Morton's Salt into it.
PULL MY CHENEY
When I was 16, my best friend Jeff and I wanted to go to a party we'd heard about. Knowing that we would never be allowed to overnight at a party where there might be alcohol, I told my mom I was staying at Jeff's place. Jeff told his mom that we were staying at Tim White's place. Off we went to the party... and then Jeff's mom called Tim White's place looking for him and was told by Mrs. White that we weren't there. The lesson I learned that day is that when one is lying, it is very important to make sure you at least have your story straight.
So Dick Cheney was saying just the other day that Saddam Hussein had "long-established ties" with al-Qaida. Of course, he has no basis for this statement other than desperately wanting you and I to believe that the Halliburton War was justified... but what the hey, he just threw it out there for kicks and giggles.
Now, just two days later, the bipartisan 9/11 commission that has spent the last half a year investigating the attacks and the organization behind them... well, they've come out and told you the truth: there were no such ties, that the often-cited meeting between Mohammed Atta and Iraqi intelligence agents in Prague never actually happened, and that Iraq had nothing to do with 9/11.
You wanna run that well-rehearsed but unsupported lie by us one more time, Dick?
No WMDs. No connection to 9/11. Everything this administration told you in order to get you to support their war was a lie. Let me say it again: they lied. When do we start the impeachment hearings?
INTERN SEASON
It's summer again... the days are warm, the nights are about to get longer... ah yes, fond memories are flooding back to me right now, because like the swallows to San Juan Capistrano, the interns have returned to Washington. (No pun intended.)
Every June, DC, northern Virginia, and suburban Maryland are overrun with idealistic young interns, either freshly graduated or with one more year to go. They come to Washington full of idealism about government and democracy, almost in awe of the process they are about to observe first hand. Many are young men... whatever. Many others are young women, ready to change the world and not necessarily understanding just how they look in sundresses and college-girl wear. (Then again, many of them do understand, and play it to the hilt.)
Combine the warm weather (and the clothes that go with it), the hard work in close quarters, the awe-inspiring nature of DC, a little naivete, and some social climbing, and you have a recipe for... well, when you are a 20 or 30something single guy working in Washington DC, summer is affectionately known as "intern season." You can almost hear the political guys looking at one another and saying, "Shhhhhhhh! Be vewwy vewwy qwiet - I'm hunting wabbits." Sharks go into a feeding frenzy when there's blood in the water; DC men behave in much the same way during the summers.
Does it speak well of the men who work in Washington? You might say it does not. But this dynamic gets repeated in corporations, schools, non-profits, and every other kind of organization. Every so often, some intern scandal hits DC, and the public claims outrage. I am always amazed that the public is so naive - or so willingly cynical. It's hypocritical to argue that it's somehow because of the bad nature of those in Washington. Men are men, wherever you go - and as for the young women, the old saying is true that no one can take advantage of you unless you let them. In many if not most cases, they know exactly what they're doing... having been there and been part of this whole scene, I can assure you that you will never convince me that Monica Lewinsky or Chandra Levy were naive little innocents whose idealism was betrayed by some big bad politician.
I know many young women whose hearts were broken by some guy on the Hill during her summer internship in DC. I also know married couples who met when one of them was an intern. And I know plenty of women in DC who fondly remember their internship romances even long after they ended. Like any other relationship, these summer hookups can have any potential outcome when they first start... so the fact that they happen is not in and of itself a bad thing, if you ask me.
The cycle has been repeating itself every summer for half a century or more now, and is as much a part of the "working in Washington" experience as giving a tour of the Capitol Building (which you will do eventually if you even so much as intern in a Congressional office... to this day I could take any one of you into that building and give you the grand tour as expertly as the paid guides) or hanging out at the Hawk and Dove after work. There are quite a few Washingtonians of both genders who would argue that you're not a real insider until you've had your first intern relationship - either as the intern or as the poacher.
I was a Washington insider for a few years. For all but one of my summers there, I ran with the bulls during intern season. I recall those days very fondly. (And even my friends there would tell you that I was very much the nice guy - most of my summer romances and I kept in touch for at least a couple of years. None of them ended up hating me - so that's my defense to you.) It's a phase long since left behind... but my summers in Washington were some of the best ones of my life, for many reasons. And every year, I think about intern season starting up again... and smile.
THE REPUBLICAN I WOULD VOTE FOR IN A HEARTBEAT
John McCain has shown me yet again why he's earned my respect and my vote if he should ever run for nationwide office again. In a town where so-called leaders of both parties kiss Saudi Arabian ass more frequently than they kiss their interns (you've probably read my post on that phenomenon already above), John McCain is the only national politician who will say aloud what none of the rest of them have the stones to say -- even though it's glaringly obvious to the rest of us: that the Saudi government has basically been supporting terrorist groups for years.
In an interview on NBC's Today Show, McCain said the Saudi government is "paying the price for countenancing, and even funding, organizations that carry out acts of terror throughout the world."
For years, Saudi Arabia has had what he called a "tacit agreement" with terror groups, McCain Continued. As long as they don't carry out acts of terror inside the country, terrorists got a "wink and a nod" from the Saudi government regarding their activities, he said.
He's flat out right. Don't forget that most of the Wa'habi fundamentalist schools that preach violent hatred of the US were supported by the Saudi government even after 9/11. And no matter what platitudes the Saudi government throws at the US government or press, they don't really have any interest in changing the culture inside their country or doing anything to stop terrorism unless it's directed at their own people.
Even in the face of multiple terrorist acts on their own soil by al Qaida-linked terrorists, the Saudi government is still raising the specter of their old favorite fallback, those gosh-darn Israelis. It's not Islamic extremism that is to blame for terror inside Saudi Arabia, they're telling their own people. It's Zionists.
Last month, an attack on contractors at the Saudi oil facility in Yanbu killed six Westerners, two of them Americans. Senior Saudi officials told the world al-Qaida terrorists were to blame and al-Qaida claimed responsibility. But tape obtained by NBC News reveals that, inside Saudi Arabia, on Saudi television, Crown Prince Abdullah told a strikingly different story about who was to blame.
NBC News translated Abdullah's remarks from Arabic: "Zionism is behind it. It has become clear now. It has become clear to us. I don’t say, I mean... It is not 100 percent, but 95 percent that the Zionist hands are behind what happened."
Other senior Saudi officials reaffirmed the claim that supporters of Israel -- Zionists -- were behind the terror attacks. Prince Nayef, the Saudi Interior Minister said, "Al-Qaida is backed by Israel and Zionism."
That is hands down the stupidest and most disingenuous thing I have heard said in public by anyone all year -- and I have to listen to George W. Bush on a daily basis. I mean, I am no fan of the Israeli government or Ariel Sharon... but to suggest that al-Qaida is backed by Israel? I bet this guy's off with OJ looking for the real killer right now. I mean, he knows he's lying when he says this, and feels no shame. (Hey, in that sense, he'd fit right in the Bush Administration.)
The Saudi government is no more our friend than is the government of Cuba, Syria, or North Korea. The Saudi people, as a whole, may not be our enemy. But their government is not our friend. I just wish more of our politicians had McCain's courage and would call it like it is.
DARWIN WAS RIGHT... OR WAIT, MAYBE HE WAS WRONG
Darwin's theory of survival of the fittest was given a boost by this next story -- but I'm not sure what a human being outsmarted by a squirrel does for evolutionary theory. 78 year old Alberta Jones of LaPorte, Indiana shot herself accidentally while trying to shoot at a squirrel.
Jones loaded her 16-gauge shotgun Sunday and carried it with the barrel pointed down to the back door to take aim, police said. The gun accidentally discharged, police said, and shotgun pellets ricocheted off the floor. Both of her legs were struck by the pellets, and one in her knee required surgery Tuesday to remove.
Okay, this is bad. But I guess I could see it being a freak accident, right? Granny gets a little loopy, breaks out the gun, and trips and falls or something. That's it, right?
Not exactly. This monumental genius is proud of herself.
Jones vowed to keep shooting at squirrels and using firecrackers - as she has done several times before - to discourage them from getting into her bird feeder. She also shoots groundhogs and other animals she considers a nuisance.
"My neighbors call me Annie Oakley," she said.
Actually, lady... I'm betting they call you "That Psycho Old (W)itch With The Gun." I don't know what amazes me more: that the town police haven't locked her up for repeatedly discharging a weapon in a residential neighborhood... or that someone with such an obviously limited powers of reasoning has actually survived this long.
FROM THE FILE OF THINGS IT WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE TO KNOW ABOUT A LONG TIME AGO
I was IMing with my mother tonight... she asked me about my diet, how it was going, what I was eating and drinking now and how I've shifted my intake of food. Here is a replication of this piece of the conversation - it may not be word for word in all places, but where it is not, it's pretty close, and the gist is captured:
Mudge: I also picked up some vanilla flavored soy milk. I have to say it tastes pretty good.
Mudge's Mom: Soy milk?! Yuck!
Mudge: I sort of don't have a choice. I think I've developed lactose intolerance the older I get - every time I have milk, I... well, I know I've had milk, let's put it that way.
Mudge's Mom: You've always been lactose intolerant. You were born that way.
Mudge (in shock, because he's never heard this in 36 years, minus a week or two): What?
Mudge's Mom: Your doctor picked up on it when you weren't even a month old. We had to have you on special formula until you were about 18 months old; I forget what it was called.
Mudge: I don't remember that, Mom. Gee, you think you might have mentioned that at some point?
Mudge's Mom: Well, you seemed to grow out of it. There didn't seem to be a reason to bring it up - I forgot about it till you just mentioned it.
The rest of the conversation was the usual: she tells me I work too much, I say everyone in corporate America does 12 hour days or more anymore; she asks when I am traveling next for business, I say I'm not sure, but I'll pick you up something while I am there; she asks if I've met any nice girls lately, I say I'm always at work and don't meet many new people; she asks if my company doesn't hire any nice single young women, I remind her that my inter-office romances have turned out to be big mistakes... I desperately shift the subject by asking if she's talked to my brother today to find out if maybe he and his wife are expecting yet... you know, the same conversation every single 36 year old man has with his mother every time they talk. (Just kidding, Mom. We kid because we love, right?)
Anyway, I didn't pay much attention to the rest of the IM session. I was still busy wondering how many more years of upset stomachs and dashes to the bathroom she was going to let me endure before she brought up the fact that I've been lactose intolerant since birth and should probably avoid milk. Love you too, Mom.
HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY
This one's just for Pete, since I know he's such a big fan of theirs... but while I was away, the Olsen Twins (I forget their names again... Maribelle and Amber, something like that) turned 18. This means that they are now officially legal in all states. (The Olsen Twin countdowns were void in West Virginia and Alabama, where the Olsen Twins have already been legal for five years. Besides... what Mayberry do people live in if they think that being 18 matters to any kid, much less the Olsen twins, when sex is concerned? If Mary-Kate or Ashley were so inclined, their virginity would have gone the same way as Bob Saget's career -- out the window -- a long time ago, age of consent or not.)
What does this mean? In the micro sense, nothing. I have no better shot at either one of them - nor do I necessarily want one - after Sunday's celebrations. But in the macro sense, it is now possible to make innuendo-laden jokes about one or both of the twins without worrying about going to jail or feeling like I need to take a shower afterward. And anything that allows me a little more freedom to write is a good thing.
So happy birthday, Mary-Kate and Ashley. By the way, what does one give two just-turned-18 year olds who have everything?
PROOF THAT KARMA EXISTS
The Detroit Pistons tonight defeated the LA Lakers and their rapist superstar Kobe Bryant, becoming perhaps the most unlikely NBA champions ever. While I really don't care about basketball in the least (it is far down my list of sports, way down there with NASCAR and synchronized swimming), I am extremely pleased that the rapist didn't win - and that in fact, many people are blaming him for the Lakers' failure.
Every once in a while, something happens that makes me think that maybe, just maybe, there is a higher force guiding the events of the world - call it God, fate, being, whatever. Tonight was one of those moments. Kobe Bryant did not win a championship - and it is his stubbornness, selfishness and childishness that is being cited by many as the reason why. Whoever's responsible for that... thank you.
June 15, 2004
LIED TO AGAIN
This past weekend, Bush's Secretary of State Colin Powell had to admit that the State Department's report on terrorism -- which claimed terrorism was on the decline in 2003 -- was incorrect... and that in fact, as two independent observers had shown, terrorism had in fact been on the steady increase since May 2001.
Released in April, the State Department's annual report on global terrorism incorrectly declared that terrorist attacks declined in 2003. But figures from a corrected report "will be up sharply," State Department spokesman Richard Boucher has said... The report found that 169 of those were "significant" attacks, which involved death, serious injury or major property damage. However, researchers Alan B. Krueger of Princeton University and David Laitin of Stanford University reported in May that the number of significant attacks represented a 36 percent increase over the 124 events in 2001.
Powell swears it was just an honest error, and that no one in this criminal administration would deliberately falsify information to make itself look good. And since it is Colin Powell we're talking about - a man I deeply respect - I'd love to believe him. Problem is, this administration had lied to me just too many times for me to believe even Colin Powell:
-- Earlier this spring, Bush railroaded his Medicare bill through Congress, keeping the floor open long after it should have closed so that more arms could be ripped out of the sockets of Republican lawmakers who didn't want to support the president's plan. He managed to convince conservatives who were concerned about the price tag that it would cost less than $400 billion. The problem was, Bush was lying - and he knew he was lying. His own analysts had been telling him for months that the bill would cost more... and Bush responded by threatening to fire the lead analyst if he opened his mouth.
The government's top expert on Medicare costs was warned that he would be fired if he told key lawmakers about a series of Bush administration cost estimates that could have torpedoed congressional passage of the White House-backed Medicare prescription-drug plan.
When the House of Representatives passed the controversial benefit by five votes last November, the White House was embracing an estimate by the Congressional Budget Office that it would cost $395 billion in the first 10 years. But for months the administration's own analysts in the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services had concluded repeatedly that the drug benefit could cost upward of $100 billion more than that.
Withholding the higher cost projections was important because the White House was facing a revolt from 13 conservative House Republicans who'd vowed to vote against the Medicare drug bill if it cost more than $400 billion.
And don't forget yellowcake uranium, which he was lying about too. Why is it