DEAR CANADA: SORRY ABOUT ALL THE STUPID PEOPLE

Dear Canada:

First of all, how is the weather?  Good I hope?  Global climate change is going to be really good for you.  As the U.S. heartland transforms into a vast desert, the wheat growing regions are moving north into Canada, making you into the bread basket of the world (like we used to be).  And don’t even get me started on how much money you are going to make when the Arctic Ocean ice cap melts, opening up direct shipping from Canada to Asia, not to mention the resources of the Arctic you will be well-positioned to exploit, like easy to get offshore oil and natural gas (you lucky stiffs!). I hear you already have plans to sell that oil to China, transporting it cheaply across the Arctic Ocean to Russia and then via pipeline or train to China. Hot damn (no pun intended)!

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And how is your population?  Growing?  Healthy?  Life expectancy better than your neighbors to the south?  Great.  Really good.

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I’m writing to apologize, in advance, for the mob of stupid people who are headed your way from the United States.  Here is what happened:  the United States Supreme Court has upheld President Obama’s attempt to create a national health care system like you have, like Europe has, and like the rest of the civilized world has.

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This has upset a lot of really stupid people.  They don’t want improved health care. In response to the Supreme Court’s decision, this group of really stupid people have vowed to leave the United States and emigrate to Canada.

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No. Seriously.  Seriously.  I’m not kidding.  I know I am a kidder, and we’ve shares some really good jokes, but this time I’m not joking. Look, here are some tweets from some of the stupid people headed your way:

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Yes, I know how funny that is. Yes, I know that Canada has a national health care system.  But I told you these are stupid people.  And they are on their way north to you.

THANK YOU, CANADA!

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Thank you for taking our idiots.

Consider it payback for Celine Dion, curling and that joke you call bacon.

Even though they are idiots, I think they are in for a big shock.

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Sincerely,

Paul

A GRIM FAIRY TALE – Free Among the Monkeys And Elephants

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"Hello, children. Would you like to hear a story?"

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I just saw a ten minute preview of the new movie John Carter, and it got me thinking.

I’ve met a lot of professional writers, many of which I admire as artists who have skills I cannot and could not possibly match.  But not all the writers I’ve encountered in my life fit that description. The simple fact is that being a good writer and being a successful writer are often different things and depend on factors that have nothing to do with skill.

So I see the John Carter preview and it looks great. And I am reminded of the book and the author that inspired it back in 1912 – exactly a century ago. And I realize, again, that no one can say what is good or predict with any accuracy what will last.

What follows isn’t exactly a grim fairy tale, but it’s close enough to fit in that category.

So, without further faffing, I give you…

FREE AMONG THE MONKEYS AND ELEPHANTS

On night in late October, 1913, in Dover, England, in a pub at the bottom of a hill, in the shadow of Dover Castle – walking distance to the beach where Matthew Arnold heard ignorant armies clashing by night – George Bernard Shaw was working hard to persuade Lydia, an aspiring American actress, to have sex with him.           

“Should we be going?” Lydia asked.  The piercing cry of gliding seagulls sounded loudly throughout the thick seaside darkness. “The train back to London leaves in ten minutes.”

 ”We can catch the next one,” Shaw responded. 

 ”Do you really think you can get me a reading for Liza?”

 ”I am the playwright.  Of course I can.”

 ”But I don’t know how to do a cockney accent.”

 ”That’s won’t be a problem,” Shaw said.  “I can teach you.  Look, since we’re waiting for the next train, why don’t we take a walk down to the beach?  Matthew Arnold wrote his famous love poem there.”

  “Who? Lydia asked.

 ”Never mind,” Shaw said, taking her hand and guiding her out of the pub.  They passed where James Joyce sat with his traveling companion and lover, Nora.  Joyce listened to Nora and watched her face as she drank pint after pint of bitter, dark, thick beer.   He listened as she talked about her sex life prior to meeting him.

“I think he made them a bit firmer sucking on them so long,” she slurred, nourishing her thick Irish working-class accent each time she lifted her glass and gulped beer. 

Joyce and Nora were on their way to Paris from Dublin by way of London.  Joyce was struggling to find a publisher for two books – a collection of short stories and a short semi-autobiographical novel.  At that moment, in the middle of her beer-sodden reminiscence, Nora could not have cared less.

 ”He made me spend the second time tickling my behind with his finger,” Nora laughed, red eyed.

Joyce smiled and nodded, encouraging her to continue. 

 ”I tried it with the banana,” she confessed. “But I was afraid it might break and get lost up in me somewhere.”  Joyce looked concerned, but wasn’t.  He listened carefully, trying with all his might to memorize every single word.

In the same pub, Edgar Rice Burrows sat with his friend and fellow writer, William Seabrook.  Burrows eagerly described a novel he was writing.

 ”Thuvia is this voluptuous Martian princess,” he began

 ”Are there any other kind?” Seabrook asked.  He genuinely liked Edgar, and admired his success as a popular writer, but nevertheless believed that Burrows was an idiot.

“She is in love with the son of John Carter, the Warlord of Mars -” Burrows explained.

“The Martian princess?”

 ”Yeah.  So she’s in love with this big warrior type who can jump really far and high because his father is from the Earth.”

 ”He can jump high because his father is from Earth?”

 ”Yeah.”

 ”Sort of like a handsome, muscular grass hopper.”

 ”Look, do you want to hear about this or not?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. Please go on.”

“So Carthoris – that’s the guy – he has the hots for Thuvia -”

 ”Carthoris and Thuvia?”

“Yeah.”

 ”Sounds like a bad Shakespearian play.”

 ”So she’s got the hots for him, too, but bad guys kidnap her and make it look like Carthoris did it.”

 ”So he sallies forth to rescue her.”

 ”Yeah. What do you think?”

“Charming.  But tell me about that ape-man novel you are writing.”

“Sure.  It’s based on the short story I published.  Did you read it?”

 ”No, but I’m still interested. It is about a man who is half man, half ape, if I remember correctly.”

“Not half-man half-ape.  He is an ape-man named Tarzan.”

“Whatever.  You say that your publisher is willing to pay you in advance to write it?”

 ”Yeah.”

 ”Well then, why waste your time with your Martian Romeo and Juliet until you’ve finished the Tarzan novel?  What are you going to call it?”

“Tarzan.”

 ”I should have guessed.  Sort of a foreign adventure piece I take it?”

“On, yeah. Lots of adventure.  Tarzan is a guy who was raised in the African jungle by apes.”

“It sounds ghastly.  Are you sure they’re going to pay you for this?”

“You bet.”

“I wonder what the appeal is?” Seabrook pondered.

“Every guy wants to be Tarzan,” Burrows explained.  “Tarzan has everything a man could want.”

“Fleas?”

“Tarzan doesn’t have fleas,” Burrows said, irritably.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not going to give him any,” Burrows said. “I’m giving him a great life.  He’s king of the beasts, lord of the apes.  He can talk to elephants.” 

“Elephants?”

“He can call elephants if he needs them.”

“Why would he need elephants.”

“If he needs a ride, or if he needs help.”

“How helpful can an elephant be?” 

“Lets say he’s surrounded by bad guys, and there’s no way out.  Well, he calls to the elephants and they come and trample the bad guys.”

“Deus Ex Elephant?” Seabrook asked.

 “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  “The point is that Tarzan does what he wants.  He is totally free from the pressures of the modern world.  He could have been anyone, any one of us.  And that’s my point.  I want the reader to think, ‘Hey, if I had been dropped into a jungle, I could have been Tarzan.  Tarzan and me are the same guy, we were only brought up different.”

 ”You see this Tarzan as leading some kind of idyllic life?”

 ”Not idyllic – ideal.  Idyllic lives are boring lives.  Tarzan faces plenty of danger to keep things interesting.  And there are things missing that he really needs.”

“Soap and water?”

“No.  Women.  There aren’t any women around.”

“What about native women?”

“Oh, yeah, plenty of those.  But there are no white women anywhere.  So he meets this beautiful explorer, and she shows him the ropes -”

Seabrook smiled at the reference.

” – and brings him back to London.  Good stuff.  But the biggest reason why my readers are going to admire Tarzan is his total freedom, so it won’t surprise anyone when Tarzan would rather be in the jungle instead of in civilization.”

“Free among the monkeys and elephants?”

“Exactly.”

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Elmo Lincoln, in the first Tarzan film (1918)

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William Seabrook

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Nora Barnacle

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James Joyce

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George Bernard Shaw

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Lydia Atherton

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Edgar Rice Burroughs

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Thuvia

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Cathorsis (the one doing the stabbing)

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Declaration of Sentiments and Resolutions – and Ray Gun Girls

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By now you know I kind of dig Space Chicks.

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In addition to writing substantively on the historical, sociological and geopolitical aspects of Space Chicks, my purely scholarly passion led me to become the worlds leading authority on subject.

Professor Boylan presenting a paper on Space Chicks at the University of Johannesburg, South Africa, in 2006

When I first determined the importance of Space Chicks as a pop culture phenomenon,  I soon observed that there is an important Space Chick subset that is best described as “Ray Gun Girls.”  Simply put, a Ray Gun Girl is a girl often, but not always, wearing a space suit in close proximity to a ray gun, often, but not always holding the ray gun.

Like Space Chicks in general, Ray Gun Girls first appeared on the cover of pulp magazines.

And when Space Chicks migrated from pulp novel covers to film and television, Ray Gun Girls began showing up there, too.

In all honesty, most Ray Gun Girl images are fetish driven manifestations of arrested male adolescent wish fulfillment, amounting to little more than soft core pornography.

However, as the years went by science fiction matured, and Space Chick images began to include strong, capable women who were fully realized heroic figures as complex and detailed as any male hero. As this happened, the images of Ray Gun Girls also evolved into something more serious and less sexist.

To me, the entire phenomenon is really quite fascinating. I don’t have the time or inclination to explore in this blog why there is such a driving interest to depict women holding ray guns.  The psycho-sexual implications alone would fill more space than I have to work with here. However, it is worth noting that the Ray Gun Girl concept is distancing itself from sex object utility and is increasingly being seen as a sign of feminist empowerment.

I’m taking the time here to provide you with the opportunity to judge for yourself.  Below is a gallery of Ray Gun Girl drawings and photos representing only what I was able to download in a few minutes before I gave up and went on to more serious business.  Nevertheless, this incomplete sample is the most comprehensive collection of Ray Gun Girl pics anywhere on or off the internet.

I present them in the order my computer imposed due to file title.

[If you don't see any gallery below, then you need to go back up to the top and click on the link entitled something like "The Ultimate Ray Gun Girl Gallery."

I take no responsibility for any offense that may result from anyone accessing and scrutinizing any of the photos in that gallery.]

A SHORT CONVERSATION WITH MY WIFE

So I was in bed last night watching television with my wife and we were discussing gun control.

There is no more divisive issue sui generis to the American experience and national psyche than the question of gun control.  I am often asked to appear as a guest speaker on topics touching on constitutional rights.  I always begin those talks by quickly describing my travels and experience living and working with people from similar and vastly different cultures.  Because of my exposure to different cultures I am very much aware of what makes Americans different from anyone else on earth. I also know that very few Americans are aware of that difference.

So I ask groups of people whenever I can what it is that makes Americans different and distinct as a culture.  It often isn’t easy for them to determine because they’ve never considered the question before. Most of them have never been more than 50 miles from where they were born and most of them live near people who look, talk and think the same way they do.

But eventually the Socratic method succeeds in helping my audience discover the truth – i.e,  that it is the rights we enjoy as Americans that makes us fundamentally different.  Americans experience a level of freedom no one else in the world can exercise.

Which prompts the inevitable follow-up question. I ask “What freedoms are uniquely American?”

The answer I get varies from audience to audience, but I am always surprised how often the answer is the right to bear arms.

Those who believe this, of course, are wrong.  The right to bear arms isn’t fundamentally or uniquely American.  The Taliban in Afghanistan believe the same thing and are willing to kill anyone who attempts to compromise their right to own and use fire arms.

I bring this up only to illustrate how important it is to own firearms to many, many Americans.  It is so important that millions of Americans value the right to bear arms above the rights of speech, assembly and movement.

I am not that extreme in my views, but I do feel the right to bear arms is an important right if for no other reason than it is expressly mentioned in the American Constitution.  My wife disagrees.  She believes that the American Founding Fathers’ viewpoint is important, but not controlling because time has made their worldview – their original intent – absurd.

You can see her argument best expressed here:

http://www.examiner.com/video

 

Gun control is a fairly hot topic, which is why my wife and I were discussing the topic while watching television last night.

The recent horrific shootings in Tuscon, Arizona are at the forefront of all of our minds. My wife is upset and believes Arizona should have more potent gun control regulations.  In the heat of our discussion she said “guns kill people.”

I was ready for that argument. “Blaming guns for killing people,” I retorted, “is like blaming spoons for obesity.”

I felt pretty good about that statement. It was eloquent and elegant, bordering on poetry.

We sat in silence a while, me feeling a bit smug, and then my wife said:

“Yeah, but if crazy people were running around killing 9 year old girls with spoons, I bet we would have some spoon control laws pretty quick.”

God, I love my wife.

“I WISH IS COULD TALK IN TECHNICOLOR…”

 

I just watched a video of an ordinary 1950′s housewife take LSD.   Here is what she looked like:

Here is the link:

 

http://news.yahoo.com/s/yblog_thelookout/author-discovers-footage-of-50s-housewife-in-lsd-experiment;_ylt=Ap4VOiwZ343Im4WbTM5_Q9.s0NUE;_ylu=X3oDMTVkOGlzZ3VjBGFzc2V0A3libG9nX3RoZWxvb2tvdXQvMjAxMTAxMTgvYXV0aG9yLWRpc2NvdmVycy1mb290YWdlLW9mLTUwcy1ob3VzZXdpZmUtaW4tbHNkLWV4cGVyaW1lbnQEY2NvZGUDbW9zdHBvcHVsYXIEY3BvcwM5BHBvcwM2BHB0A2hvbWVfY29rZQRzZWMDeW5faGVhZGxpbmVfbGlzdARzbGsDZm9vdGFnZW9mNTBz

 

I’m not sure what to say.

Can a cat collapse a wave function?

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Of course they can. Absolutely. Anyone who believes otherwise has never known a cat.

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HEADLINE – TESTICLE FESTIVAL HUGE SUCCESTICLE

Photographer: Karen Combs 2010

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OLEAN, MO. – The Olean Festival Commission has declared this year’s Testicle Festival to be most successful testicle festival in the 17 years that Olean has hosted a testicle festival. “Attendance this year broke all prior attendance records,” said Gunther Haas, the primary organizer of this year’s Testicle Festival. “People traveled from as far away as Henley to participate in the testicle themed festivities.”

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Good, clean testicle related fun.

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In addition to the many testicle related food items being offered, this year’s Testicle Festival featured a Testicle Festival Parade, a Testicle Festival Pancake Breakfast, with testicle shaped pancakes and free testicle shaped balloons for the kids, and a testicle eating contest.

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A number of testicle-themed rides and educational exhibits also contributed to this year’s Testicle Festival’s unprecedented success.

“We got a roller-coaster called the Testicle Express that is sure to give a thrill,” said Travis Jode, Honorary Mayor of Olean’s 17^th Annual Testicle Festival. “And for the kids we have a giant testicle you can walk through and learn all about testicles.”

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But the one thing that sets this year’s Testicle Festival apart from all other testicle festivals was the variety of testicles offered for consumption.

“Bull testicles are great,” said Sue Ellen Plavin, this year’s Testicle Queen.

“But you can get bull testicles at any testicle festival.  That’s where we’re different.  At the Olean Testicle Festival you can enjoy all sorts of testicles ranging from goat and sheep and pig and turkey to more exotic testes like squirrel, possum and frog, which I can tell you are simply delicious.  And I hear tell that somewhere around here you can score some kangaroo balls,” Plavin said and smiled. “I bet you can’t get kangaroo ‘nads at the Russelville Testicle Festival. No siree bob.”

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Good, clean testicle related fun.

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THE PARENT FILES: CHANGE OF PLANS

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I am leaving tomorrow at 7:15 AM for Dublin.  The young bloke isn’t going with me.  There is a math placement test his university requires that my son will be taking shortly after we return.  He decided he needs to stay and prepare for that exam rather than tag along after me – despite the lure of legal beer.

I am very disappointed. There is a script in my  head and heart re: “dad travels with 18 year old son through Europe” that I really wanted to enact.  But though disappointed,  I am also somewhat favorably impressed. He made the responsible choice.  I really cannot complain about that.

I, of course, must go. I cannot walk out on the universities that invited me to speak – and I gotta eat oysters and drink dry french white wine with my mate Stuart in London. But I am still committed to making the father/son thing happen. Maybe after the exam.  I can’t arrange any speaking gigs that late in the summer, but what the hell?  It is more traveling than I prefer, more time out of the office, but why not? This time is here only once.

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THE PARENT FILES: No Comment

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My son called home tonight and needed some help. He told me his car had broken down and he needed a ride.  So I took off my robe, put on some clothes and drove to the place he said he would be waiting.

As I drove up I saw his car on the side of the road and beside it stood my son and a lovely young lady – one of his high school classmates.  I quickly learned that my son’s car had not broken down.  Instead, he was leaving a parking lot, attempting to cross a east/west avenue and turn left to travel east. For reasons far too complex for this bit of prose he thought the way was clear, but it wasn’t.  He plowed over a raised island separating the two sides of the avenue, breaking his car’s front axle.

My son is very shy and is still clumsy with women. He was clearly embarrassed. And she was really a very pretty young lady.

I drove her to her home and then drove my son back to his.  Eventually I ended up with my wife. I complained about the best laid plans of mice and men, of my son’s unfortunate negligance and his clear attempt at romance gone totally and irretrievably wrong.  My wife peered at me and said:

“You’ve made bigger mistakes, and still kept the girl.”

Which is entirely true.

I decided to keep my opinion to myself.

THE PARENT FILES: FEELING GOOD ABOUT ME

I have three reasons for living. The first is to be a good husband. The second is to be a good father and the third is to be a good citizen. I honestly have no idea if I am any good at any of these things – or, to be more precise, good enough.  But today something happened that made me feel good about being me.

I was driving back from church with my son and we were talking about Time – or, to be more precise, we were talking about how important it is to have a proper relationship with Time.

I was explaining to my son that success – and by “success” I mean living a long life in good health, not missing any meals and being content more often than being dissatisfied – depends in large measure on whether or not a person has a good relationship with Time.

Successful people live in the Past, Present and Future simultaneously. You probably do it but don’t realize it.  When you are confronted with a choice you automatically draw off of past experience, apply information you’ve gathered in the present and then use both Past and Present to anticipate Future consequences of your actions.  The deeper your grasp of the Past – both personal and historical – and the more extensive your Present data gathering, the better you can project into the Future to avoid unpleasant or undesirable consequences.

Most people can’t do this. They cannot remember the past in any meaningful way, they fail to gather data in the Present, which means they cannot anticipate the Future consequences of their actions.

For example, millions of Americans bought items using credit cards today who should not have made those purchases. They don’t remember the purchases they made in the Past, they have failed to gather data in the Present as to whether they can afford to make more purchases on credit, which means they don’t – can’t – understand the dire Future consequences of going deeper into debt.

People who do not integrate the Past, Present and Future have no control over their lives. They are the most likely to lose their jobs during economic bad times. They are the most likely to lose their homes to foreclosure. They are the most likely to eat too much fast food, gain too much weight, develop life-style related diseases and die young.

I don’t want my son to be one of those people. So today I was talking to him about how important it is to gather information – any information – as he goes about his daily life.   I told him that all information could be important and useful. I struggled with the concept, trying to explain it, and then said:

“You never know when the trivial will become pivotal.”

The moment I said that I realized it was pretty cool. Almost like poetry. And I felt like a good father and felt pretty good about being me.

Which I am never comfortable with.  So the next thing I told him was:

“Jews control the media.”

It isn’t true and I don’t believe it, and I know my son won’t believe it, but I don’t want him to get used to me being wise.  I want to ge a good father but I don’t want to work too hard at it, and the less my son expects of me the easier it will be.

REMEMBERING THE 2000 COMMERCIAL ACTORS STRIKE, PART 2

In Part One of this series, we encountered “Hello, Meteor!” – a commercial the Discovery Channel  (TDS) made during the 2000 commercial actors strike.  ”Hello, Meteor!” garnered critical and commercial acclaim.  This success encouraged TDS on to assign more of their non-actor office to star in other commercials, including the now classic “Hello, Mosquito!” shown below.

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REMEMBERING THE 2000 SAG COMMERCIAL ACTORS STRIKE

If you are anything like me, then every so often – when the winter wind blows clean and fresh from the north – you are overcome by nolstagia for the halcyon days of the 2000 Screen Actors Guild Commercial Actors Strike.

Ah, those halcyon days! – when men selling things on television had to do without actors because actors who acted in television commercials wanted more money for their labor, but the major studios wouldn’t give them more money.  And so they went on strike.

Commercials got made and were broadcast without professional acting, and sometimes the results were simply wonderful.

The Discovery Channel used accounting and technical employees to act in a series of commercials that have since become legend, the first of which I feature below.

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AHHH!!!   THE ATMOSPHERE!!!!  AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!

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WHAT AMERICANS SOUND LIKE

As I’ve often mentioned (purely as a matter of pretense), I often lecture to non American audiences. With minor exception I lecture in English.

The noted internet social analysis and general media maven, Joseph Bleckman, sent me this link that shows what non English speakers hear when they hear Americans speaking.  It isn’t a very loving or kind parody, but it is pretty funny.

MISSING BABY FOUND

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Little Shannon Dedrick’s disappearance caught the world’s attention.

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7 month old Shannon Dedrick

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The world breathed a collective sigh of relief when, today, Shannon was found in a box under the bed of her baby sitter – who had apparently abducted the infant.

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I am glad the ordeal is over for Shannon’s parents, but someone has to point out that their child is an alien.

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That isn't drool.

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Little Shannon is clearly a human/alien hybrid.  I am the last person on this or any world to so much as imply that there is anything wrong with that.  At one time some stygma might have attached to parents who gave birth to an alien baby, but recent high profile celebrity adoptions have removed much of that stygma.

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As a consequence, caring for an alien baby has become quite fashionable.

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Shannon’s parents must realize that raising a human/alien hybrid is a challenging, but ultimately rewarding endeavor.

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Every child is a special gift from God.

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For example, Shannon’s remarkably large head indicates that she will be telepathic.

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Knows what you are thinking.

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Telepathic children are unusually challenging because they know when daddy says “no” that he really means “yes” and when mommy says “just wait until your father gets home!” mommy really doesn’t mean it.

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Nothing but trouble

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As an alien/human hybrid, little Shannon is likely to develop the skill to levitate.

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Extra care is required.

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Like telepathy, the ability to levitate will be a job skill that employers will appreciate, but in the beginning, the parent of an alien/human hybrid must exercise extra care, such as making sure windows are closed at all times.

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Not good.

So, we are all glad baby Shannon is back, but her parents need to pay attention to her special qualities.

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“YOU LIE!”

JOE WILSON AND THE AMERICAN WAY

I want to talk to you about Joe Wilson, the guy who heckled Barak Obama by yelling “you lie!” when the president was addressing a joint session of congress.

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He looks retarded, but he is more than that.

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The liberal media has expressed extreme outrage over this incident, accusing Wilson of being everything from a boorish idiot to a racist.

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Victim of the liberal media

Don’t let that outrage fool you. What Wilson did is no big deal – especially when viewed through the lens of American history.  A congressman yelling “you lie!” at the president during a presentation to congress is not only a trivial event, the event itself fits well within the American traditions of political free speech.

The American Way

To begin with, allow me to remind you what it means to be an American.  More than anything else, being an American means having the constitutional right to speak your mind.  Many Americans take this important freedom for granted.  But those outside our great nation know how special and precious it is. During the great wave of immigration that took place near the beginning of the 20^th Century – the time my Greek ancestors came to this country – immigrants wrote home saying that the streets of American cities were “paved with gold.”

In a literal sense this wasn’t true.  But to people escaping tyranny, oppression and poverty, the freedoms and opportunities that came with merely walking on American soil were priceless.  Where they came from, no matter how hard they worked they could never hope for a better life for their children.  In America, men and women who are willing to work hard can shape their own futures.  In their homelands, these immigrants could be arrested and imprisoned for saying the wrong thing.  But in America they could argue in the streets and express their opinions freely.

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What the liberal media wants us to forget is that the right of free speech includes the right to get angry.  When Joe Wilson interrupted the President of the United States by shouting “you lie!” Citizen Joe was merely exercising his rights as an American and was taking part in a tradition that spans our nation’s noble history.

The American Founding Fathers were notoriously cranky, rude, angry men who openly hated each other.  Benjamin Franklin hated Thomas Paine. Thomas Paine hated George Washington. George Washington hated all French intellectuals – who, in a very real sense, gave birth to the American Revolution.

Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr hated each other so much they fought a duel – and Burr killed Hamilton with a bullet that pierced Hamilton’s liver.  Thomas Jefferson – the man given credit with drafting the American Declaration of Independence – made loud, unmistakable noises simulating flatulence – often using his hand and armpit – every time he encountered his political rival John Adams.  Adams never hesitated to accuse Jefferson of “preferring the company of young boys” and of stealing the design for the swivel chair from Nathaniel Swivel, a Boston furniture maker and brewer.

Nathaniel Swivel

As our republic grew and matured, so did the salty nature of American political discourse.  Martin Van Buren – our 8^th president – and the first American president born in the United States – won the 1832 election in a landslide.  But the Whig Party (now defunct) despised Van Buren and refused to recognize his legitimacy.  They spread rumors that he was born in Holland and that he was secretly a Quaker.

Quaker

In conjunction with this rumor campaign, the Whigs engaged in a rhetorical attack utilizing misleading vocabulary. For example, Winfield Scott – a Whig Party organizer – gave a speech in Buffalo, New York accusing Van Buren of vague charges that no one understood but everyone believed.  Scott is quoted as saying:

“In addition to the many crimes Martin Van Buren has committed against the American people as a whole – nay humanity – perhaps most disturbing, if not revolting, is the indisputable fact that Van Buren is a notorious masticator.   Reliable sources close to Van Buren – if that is his real name – confirm that he masticates at least three times a day, often in the presence of his wife. As monstrous as this may seem, Van Buren has also been known to vacillate on numerous occasions.  I put it to you that, not only is Van Buren a vacillator AND a masticator, he vacillates WHILE he masticates! The man has practiced vacillation and chronic mastication ever since he was a small child in Holland!”

These Whig tactics worked: the public turned against Van Buren, with many refusing to shake his hand for fear of where it may have been.  Whig congressmen and senators began pelting Van Buren with rotten vegetables whenever he spoke publically. The threat of violence became so pronounced that Van Buren would carry two loaded pistols whenever he addressed congress.

Packing heat

More recently, Republicans unhappy with Franklin Delano Roosevelt – a polio victim confined to a wheel chair – accused Roosevelt of being born in Norway and of secretly being a Free Mason. They would yell “cripple!” and “gimp!” during Roosevelt’s State of the Union addresses, pretending that they were sneezing.

He killed and ate this child.

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So, when seen through the lens of history, Joe Wilson’s yelling, “you lie!” at Obama during the the President’s State of the Union Address, or Arizona Governor Jan Brewer jabbing her finger into the President’s face while yelling at him, or even a reporter heckling Obama during a press conference, it really isn’t very important.

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This never happened when a white president was giving a speech.

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This would never happen to a white president, and never has.

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Perhaps they feel free to disrespect him because he isn’t white, so he can’t really be the president, so they don’t owe him any respect.

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 It is just part of the American way.

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HEADLINE – Ugandan gorillas join Facebook

Endangered Ugandan gorillas join Facebook, MySpace

By Rhappi Khanasta, Ass. Press Writer – Sat Sep 26, 10:53 am ET

KAMPALA, Uganda – Around 340 mountain gorillas — nearly half of the 740 remaining worldwide — have joined Facebook, Myspace and Twitter in an attempt to live it up before the end.

“I figured, what the hell?” explains M’bitah, a male silverback weighing 400 pounds (180 kilograms) who lives in Uganda’s lush Bwindi Impenetrable Forest National Park. “Maybe I can hook up with a willing female and have a little fun before I am shot, killed and eaten,” M’bitah said.

Despite their size — a male silverback can reach over 7 feet (2.1 meters) — the gorillas are threatened by poachers who kill them for meat, farmers and charcoal-burners who encroach on their habitat, and the indiscriminate bullets of rebels on the run.

“We Mountain Gorillas will probably be eaten into extinction within a year or two,” said Kampanga, a female adult mountain gorilla. “But I just got friended by five people on Facebook and 28 people responded to my tweet about scratching my stomach,” she said. “How cool is that?”

“We support efforts to include gorillas within internet based social networks,” said N’kita “Ernie” Ruzigandekwa, President and former Treasurer for the Ugandan Bush Meat Advisory Board, a nonprofit, corporate sponsored interest group that promotes eating gorillas. “The Ugandan mountain gorilla is an elusive creature that is much, much easier to sneak up on when concentrating on updating their Facebook profile,” Ruzigandekwa said.

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MY FAVORITE HOMOSEXUALS

Today I couldn’t help but notice homosexuals all over the place.

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I noticed three homosexuals while I watched television as I made coffee for my wife. I saw half a dozen more as I drove my son to school. I saw another two or three in the supermarket where I stopped to buy milk on my way back home. And, when I parked outside my house, I waved to Ted, my gay neighbor, as he was leaving his house to go to work.

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My gay neighbor, Ted.

We chatted a bit and both agreed that the weather was fabulous for this time of year.

It wasn’t always this way.  At one time, not so long ago, I could go for months without encountering a homosexual or even noticing one on the street. Other than Richard Simmons, you almost never saw one on TV.

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Richard Simmons. Very gay.

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But things have changed.  The media today seems jam-packed with homosexuals – both real and imaginary. For example, on the television show Will and Grace, Eric McCormack – a fine, upstanding heterosexual actor – plays the part of a homosexual lawyer.

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Eric McCormack: not gay.

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While on the television show How I Met Your Mother Neil Patrick Harris, who is gay, plays the part of Barney, who isn’t.

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Neil Patrick Harris: totally gay.

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(Harris also played the part of Doogie Howser, which disturbs me.  Somehow I cannot accept that Doogie is gay.)

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What the hell?

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It wasn’t always this way.  In the old days, you could go your whole life without noticing a homosexual.  You could be in the middle of a crowd without realizing you were surrounded by them. Your best friends could have been gay – and probably were – but you would never have known it because they did everything they could to look, sound, dress and live like heterosexuals.  And they were pretty good at it.  Some – like Senator Larry Craig – got married and even had kids just to avoid anyone knowing they were gay. You gotta admire that kind of effort.

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Republican Senator Larry Craig.   Imagine the effort.

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But now it seems that more and more homosexuals go out of their way to appear “gay” by embodying gay stereotypes.  I see lesbians every day with short hair, often wearing bandanas on their heads, dressed in flannel shirts, wearing extra-long baggy cargo/plaid/khaki shorts and walking in Doc Martins or Birkenstocks.

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(If you are a woman and I just described what you look like, and you are not gay, I’m sorry, but it isn’t my fault: you look like a lesbian).

Every day I see effeminate, lisping, mincing, fastidious, fashion-forward, musical theater loving guys who “simply adore” Betty Davis, and who go out of their way to demonstrate that they throw like a girl. (“Here! Catch!  Don’t I throw like a girl?”)

But I am not one to judge.  I mean that in a literal sense.  I tried it, and I was a terrible judge.  I couldn’t really accept the whole “innocent until proven guilty” slogan.  I mean, if the accused might be innocent, then why were they in jail?  They must have done something wrong, right?  When I found out judges are supposed to be “impartial” I realized I am not one to judge.

Not as easy as it looks.

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Neither am I here to debate the issue.  I am not here to say whether the advent of open homosexuality is good or bad.  The last thing I want to do is get involved in a argument over whether homosexuality is a naturally occurring condition – like red hair and freckles – or a mental disease like acute schizophrenia that can be treated with intensive psychotherapy or drugs or even institutionalization.

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As far as I am concerned, both positions have merit, but I don’t want to get involved.

In all honesty, there is a limit to my ability to embrace this brave new world.  I feel I speak for many heterosexuals when I say that there is a certain “ick” factor associated with the concept, if not the practice, of homosexuality.

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We heterosexuals are trying to keep open minds, but we are wired this way and cannot help finding the picture below sort of unsettling on a visceral level.

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And let’s not forget the problems inherent in the persistent argument that the gay lifestyle is an abomination in the eyes of God.  I mean, Leviticus 18:23 really complicates the whole discussion, doesn’t it?

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Repressed homosexual (the one holding the signs).

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But I digress.  The point I am trying to make is that there are lots of homosexuals out there and I might as well point out the ones I like.  Here is a quick list of the homosexuals I approve of:

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Ellen DeGeneres:

Ellen is American’s Gay Sweetheart.

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She is smart.  She is funny.   She replaced Paula Abdul on American Idol.

When you see Ellen it is easy to overlook that she prefers to have sex with women.

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Karl Rove:

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Karl is one of my favorite homosexuals because he defeats the gay stereotype that male homosexuals are fastidious, well groomed and fashionable.  He does this by being fat and sloppy.  Snap! You go, Karl!

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And, to give balance to this column, my least favorite homosexuals are….

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Elton John:

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Elton hasn’t had a hit for years and that thing on his head is clearly a toupee.  Come on, Elton: spend the money.

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Rosie O’Donnell:

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I detest Rosie O’Donnell.  She is a loud-mouthed, annoying, pompous, self-important, corpulent idiot.  She discredits all homosexuals – especially the fat, ugly ones.

Well, that’s it for my thoughts on homosexuality.  I think I’ll have a beer and watch High School Musical. That show is totally gay.

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SARAH PALIN AND THE GOP RENAISSANCE – Part 3

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It has been a while since I’ve appeared here. During my absence I’ve paid close attention to the increasingly hostile national debate that is now focused on health care reform. The way the topic is being debated reinforces my belief the Republican Party is poised for renaissance and that Sarah Palin is key to the GOP’s rebirth.

As I’ve said, I am not addressing these comments to everyone out there who considers themselves conservative Republicans.  As I’ve explained previously, over the last 30 years the term “conservative Republican” has become warped and twisted to include people that hold positions contrary to what the GOP has historically championed.

Considers himself a conservative, and is probably a registered Republican

Let me make it simple:  if you believe that Barak Obama can’t be president because he was born in Kenya, or if you think Obama’s health care reform proposals are similar to anything Hitler did,  then stop reading.

Yeah. You. Stop reading. It will only make your brain hurt.

Go watch Glenn Beck on Fox.

Proof there is a flaw in the First Amendment.

Enjoy yourself.

But stop reading this. You lack the intellectual and/or emotional capacity and/or stability to join the effort to fix what is broken and to help guide the GOP back to national prominence.

I am writing to conservative Republicans who, like me, reluctantly supported Obama because a McCain win that included Palin as his Vice President was too horrifying to event think about.

I am writing to you out there who are watching with equal horror as crazy people disrupt town hall meetings – and then are interviewed on cable news.

I am here to tell you not to worry. The screaming crazies are part of a chain of events that will transform the GOP from its current status as a “rump” political party into a new and stronger national force.  And Sarah Palin is the key to this rebirth.

But before that can happen, we need to admit some basic truths – like the undeniable fact that crazy, stupid people have taken over the GOP.

Ronald Reagan invited them in.

We need to recognize that this was a mistake.

Republican candidates lose votes every time some middle-aged fat, poorly dressed woman screams “I want my country back!” at a nationally televised town hall meeting or some wild-eyed attorney (who is also a dentist and real estate agent) demonizes Obama by comparing him to Joseph Stalin or Adolf Hitler and calls for the army to revolt against our national government.

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She really said that (the one in the middle).

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When John McCain chose Sarah Palin as his running mate, he did so with the hopes of pleasing social conservatives/fundamentalist.  He succeeded.

They flocked to McCain/Palin rallies where they did what they always do at their local school board meetings, city council meetings and county board of supervisor meetings – they screamed and shook their fists in anger.  They demonized their opponents.  They proudly proclaimed their intellectual, educational and worldly ignorance.

Palin encouraged this because she was and is, essentially, a small town politician. She did what she knows, and that included saying and doing really dumb things, and then lying about it.  She pretended to be moral when her record revealed entrenched corruption.  She exploited her Down Syndrome baby because that plays well to small town crowds.

Small town crowds just adore retarded babies.

Plays GREAT in Wasilla!

A photo op at home!

Possibly the most exploited child in America. I'm not saying they should be ashamed of him or hide him. I am saying they actively exploited that poor kid.

I take that back. These were the most exploited children in America. Remember: marriage is a sacred institution between two unwilling teenagers.

But it did not play well to the national American audience.  McCain, to his credit, tried to manage the damage, but it was too late. Palin gave the crazies a reason, a platform, a place to do their crazy political thing in front of the whole world.

And that is why McCain lost. Although he is a true conservative, he had no choice but to choose Palin as his running mate because the GOP is dependent on the lunatic fringe’s money and support in the same way a drug addict is dependent on his or her supplier.  But when moderate conservatives saw the lunatics screaming at Palin rallies, McCain lost the moderate vote, which lost him the election.

Don't think it didn't hurt.

Don't think it doesn't still hurt. Don't you understand? The GOP left us no choice.

Palin’s resignation as Alaska’s governor freed her to reach out to the crazies who support her.  In essence, she is forming a new political party.

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Traditional conservatives should welcome this.  The crazies need a place to go – and stay.  They are welcomed to exert local and regional influence, but, if the GOP has a chance of returning to national prominence, the crazies cannot be allowed to hijack  the national debate.

Palin will continue saying outrageous things that the media cannot resist reporting.

Each time this happens, more and more screaming crazies will join her organization. Close to the next election, Palin will approach the GOP leadership – probably at the national convention – and try to make a deal. She will offer money and support in exchange for influence behind the scenes on the national stage.

We need to say no.  If we accept the deal, we will be repeating the mistake Reagan made, which will alienate the moderate votes we need to regain the White House and majorities in congress.  We need to say no when the devil comes again to our door with promises of power in exchange for just a little bit of our soul.

Yeah, its a little like this.

It won’t be easy. Politicians often cannot resist the lure of easy money or the promise of guaranteed votes. But if our Republican leaders can resist this temptation, then the GOP will again become the voice of and for the American majority.

MEET KAREN

 

I feel I can say without risk of hyperbole that the quality of the material I post here is a billion times better than, well, everything else except what you can find at The Onion.  Week after week I’ve given you the benefit of my fingers.  

Wait. That didn’t come out quite right. That sounded kind of icky.

But I digress.  In exchange for the hours and hours of serious laughs and hilarious think pieces I’ve provided here, I now ask y’all out there in cyberland for a favor.

1.  Go to http://madmencastingcall.amctv.com/photos/index/page:3/sort:Photo.score/direction:desc

2.  Find the following photo:

 

3.  Click where indicated.  Contest entrants will be judged on how high their photo “ranks” from 1 to 5 stars, so make sure you click on the fifth star to give Karen a Five Star rating.

4.  If you can’t find the photo – it keeps moving as Karen’s ranking goes up due to votes from people just like you – then go to the top of the screen and use the “Name Search” button to search for Karen by her first name.

5. Do this once every day until I tell you to stop.

That’s all I want you to do.   Allow me to explain:

This is my friend, Karen:

 

A force to be reckoned with.

 

This is her husband, Gerald:

 

Not just a nice guy - he invented Ethereal and Wire Shark. Look it up.

 

This is Gerald and Karen’s wonderful daughter, Lainey:

 

I sometimes fear I am destined to play Aristotle to her Alexander. This is one bright kid.

 

Let me teach you a very wonderful Greek word – “mishpoka.” It means “family” in every way the word “family” is used best.

Karen, Gerald and Laney are mishpoka.  I consider them family, and I don’t invite people into my family quickly or easily, because when that happens I and all my progeny become obligated until the end of time.  It is a happy thing, a combining of  the strands of destiny and future history, but it is a rare thing.

So these are nice, good people. And I love them dearly. Which is why I am here asking you to travel the internet to obscure websites to vote for something I really need to explain.

Both Karen and my wife are big fans of a television show called Mad Men.

 

It is actually a fairly cool show.

 

Okay, so this show - Mad Men –  is conducting a contest, with the winner getting a walk-on role in a future episode. Whoever gets the most “votes” for their photo – posted on the Mad Men website – will get a walk-on role in a future episode.

For people like Karen, this is too good a chance to pass up.  She wants it. 

And, therefore, so do I.  Which is why I am asking you to go  http://madmencastingcall.amctv.com/photos/index/page:3/sort:Photo.score/direction:desc   and click on Karen’s photo, which looks like this:

 

When you click were indicated, you cast your vote for Karen – and when she wins, you will feel the satisfaction one can only obtain by doing a mitzvah (another Greek word) by being part of the chain of cause and effect that gets Karen to the set of Mad Men!

Any questions?

***

 

UPDATE:  As of this entry, Karen’s photo has been online for about 24 hours and, with your help, she has risen from 380th to 8th!!! among women and 17th overall.  That is just amazingly wonderful.  On Karen’s behalf, I thank you all. 

Remember:  you can – and must – vote each day until the contest is over.  I think the Mad Men website keeps track of the time for the first vote and won’t let you vote again until 24 hours have passed.  So that means you have to vote around the same time each day.

 

***

SECOND UPDATE:  I read the rules of the contest, and they are going to pick the top ten women AND the top ten men. I am toying with the idea of using a fake name and entering this photo in the contest:

 

Enersto Von Mueller

 

I am fairly confident that “Ernesto” won’t win the contest.  The photo is grossly unappealing and, although it could arguably be considered “Ernesto’s” interpretation of the Mad Men essential angst, it most assuredly isn’t want they want to see in any of their episodes. The photo is reminiscent of Goya’s depction of Kronos, which, if memory serves, looks a lot like this:

 

 

But, for me, any chance of winning isn’t the point. The point is seeing how far up in the rankings I get despite looking like this:

 

 

And – even better – since they are picking the top ten men and the top ten women, my entry into the mix will only affect male contestants, if it has any affect at all.  So my experiment won’t harm Karen’s chances.

Which is really what matters here, don’t you think?

 

 

MOST OF THE RUMORS ARE FALSE

By Paul Nicholas Boylan,

Columnist

[Printed with permission of the Sacramento Valley Mirror, whose editor is an alien insect bent on world domination]

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One of my regular readers – who goes only by the name “Penelope” – recently wrote:

“I bet your getting a good laff  writing about me in the valley smear laff it up jew boy I heard that the departement of justise is gonna file charges against you for getting fired for lying to elected officials! ha! they are on there way to arrest you right now I heard that you are cheating on your wife with oriental illegal aliens who dont speak english we should send them back where they come from along with all the other illegal aliens who wont speak English and welfare cheats and homisexual liberals I hope your afraid because of the stuff I heard about you from reliable sorses like my neighbors and other reliable sorses like my other neighbors and other people who know things about you that they heard from reliable sorses”

Penelope’s comment highlights a growing problem: what do you do when you hear rumors, especially when you hear them from people you trust, who probably heard them from people they trust, and so on, and so on?

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As Penelope’s email shows, there isn’t much you can do when confronted by a rumor other than spread the rumor and, if you spend most of your day on the internet, it is pretty easy to spread a rumor farther than ever possible before.  But what is an average individual supposed to do?

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An ordinary person really can’t do much to verify or disprove a rumor – especially the kind that is either started or spread by anonymous people on the Internet.  I, on the other hand, am not an ordinary person.  In addition to having webbed toes, I am fortunate to be an attorney with the skills and the connections needed to round up answers and get to the bottom of things – which means I can verify rumors.

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So, as a service to a community that has been very good to me, I investigated some of the more prevalent and persistent rumors currently floating around and have determined whether they are true or not. I want to start with something personal, and then go on to rumors of a more general interest.

Rumor No. 1:  I am Jewish.

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Superficial similarities.

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This rumor is false.  I really have no idea how it got started or why it continues to spread. People keep sending me emails arguing that the Holocaust was a “Jew plot” to discredit the Nazis. People call me to complain about Israel’s treatment of the Palestinians. Complete strangers walk up to me on the street to ask me when the next Barbara Streisand movie is coming out.

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We all know each other.

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To set the record straight, I am not Jewish: I am Greek Orthodox, a faith that prides itself on being the oldest continuous version of Christianity.  Despite some similarities – e.g., Greeks have big noses, are notoriously cheap, are smarter than goyum (i.e., non-Greeks) and control the media – Judaism and Greek Orthodoxy have very little in common.  And then there are the goat sacrifices – which I would rather not get into right now.

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Hilarious at parties.

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Rumor No. 2:  The words “Butte County” mean something obscene in Latin.

Knows what it means.

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This rumor is false.  “Butte County” has no Latin meaning whatsoever.  The word “butte” is French, meaning “a small hill or mound of earth detached from any mountain range”  Coincidentally, “Butte County” mean “socially embarrassed potato” in Swahili.

The persistent rumor that “Butte County” is a foreign obscenity can be traced to a printing accident that took place shortly after Butte County was founded in 1850.  Butte County’s first Clerk,  the legendary Earnest H. Sockmender, ordered stationery that mistakenly read “Butt County.”  The mistake wasn’t discovered until 1853 when famed actress and exotic dancer Lola Montez was performing at the Yellow Foot Saloon in Biggs.

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Lola Montez

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Rumor No. 3  Glenn County was founded by an insane polygamist wheat farmer who used a private militia to force the Colusa County Council, at gunpoint, to “let go of” the land that eventually became Glenn County.

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The Battle for Glenn County.

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This rumor is false.  Dr. Hugh J. Glenn – the prominent California wheat farmer and amateur dentist that Glenn County is named after – was not insane.

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Rumor No. 4:  Glenn County Superintendent of Schools, Arturo Barrera, is really a woman.

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Arturo Barrera

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Despite my very best research and investigative efforts, I can neither confirm nor deny this allegation.  Barrera’s bodyguards – who seem to be with him 24 hours a day – make it impossible to get close enough to perform the examination necessary to either confirm or disprove the rumor. However, I’ve eaten with Arturo, and I can tell you from first hand experience that no woman can devour a bucket of fried chicken that fast or that vigorously.

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The next few rumors are relatively recent, and seem to be part of an attempt to explain why the Glenn County Superior Court decided to remodel a courtroom scheduled to be closed, and then spent more money in attorney’s fees than the remodeling cost trying to keep the remodeling details secret.

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Rumor No. 5:  Retired Glenn County Judge St. Evans killed a guy and hid his body in a “man-sized safe” for a time period longer than the one recommended by the Judicial Counsel. The “remodeling” was a cover story created to explain efforts to remove the evidence.

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Chambers of Mystery.

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This rumor is false and, frankly, it offends me that anyone would repeat it.  It is simply unbelievable that any judge would kill anyone (except for those two judges in Los Angeles) and violate the Judicial Council’s standards for body storage/disposal (again, except for those same two judges in Los Angeles).   Also, hiding evidence of judicial misconduct doesn’t explain the decision to install high-tech infrared remote controlled automatic window shades.

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Rumor 6: The Orland judge’s chambers remodeling project cost so much money because they are building a trans-dimensional portal that will be used by evil insectoid aliens to invade the earth and use people for food.

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It would look a lot like this.

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This rumor is seductive, lulling the listener into believe it because it explains so much.  People wonder why such a large amount of money was spent to remodel a room so tiny, but a trans-dimensional portal could easily fit in that tiny space with room to spare.  The large amounts of money spent trying to keep the project details secret is also explained by the need to prevent humans from finding out about the plan before it is too late to stop it.  Even the high tech electronic automatic window shades are explainable because it is well known that insectoid alien monsters – hungry for human flesh – are notoriously light sensitive.

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Dislikes direct sunlight.

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However, no matter how tempting it is to believe this rumor, I cannot confirm it, and it is my firm opinion that it is probably untrue.

In closing,  I want to say that I, for one, welcome our new insect overlords and would like to take this opportunity to remind them that, as an attorney and lobbyist, I can be helpful in rounding up others to serve as a food source during their stay on our world – and I am willing to do it at a very low hourly rate.

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Such a deal, eh?

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THE 100,000 MARK

I’ve passed my 100,000^th visitor. I know that 100,000 is a drop in the bucket for you uber bloggers out there,  but is it even smaller than that.  When you look at the kinds of google searches that lead people to my site, the following  search terms are the ones that keep bringing people to this page:

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Smiley - 53,424

 

 

 

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Smiley face – 20,013

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Sarah Palin – 11,301

 

 

 

 

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Sarah Palin nude – 3,175

 

 

 

;

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Martin Van Buren  - 1,007

 

 

 

 

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Martin Van Buren nude – 1,005

 

 

 

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Katie Couric cleavage – 728

 

 

 

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Redneck -366

 

 

 

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Stupid people – 359

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Oops – 254

 

 

 

 

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Steampunk office – 249

 

 

 

 

 

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Mean smiley – 208

 

 

 

 

 

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Morons eating pie – 119

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Jews in the news – 103

 

 

 

 

 

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Taye Diggs Wife – 99

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Beastiality – 97

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I very much appreciate the 10 or 20 people that seem to habitually drop by. But the vast majority of those visiting here pass through looking for something else (pics of nude politicians) or land here utterly by mistake (‘oops”).

I’m not complaining – just grooving on the goofiness of the whole thing.

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THE BRAVE NEW WORLD OF INTERNET “NEWS”

The author (front) and his brother, Dave (back).

y Paul Nicholas Boylan,

Columnis

People of Earth, I have good news and bad news.  The good news is that very soon virtually everyone on earth will be able to easily and cheaply access the Internet.

Even really, really poor people.

It is happening so fast no one can keep up or predict where or how it will end.  Computers and telephones with wireless connections to the World Wide Web are spreading even through the poorest parts of Africa – even though there is no electrical infrastructure there. The people who live in those retched places are using solar energy to power their small, inexpensive internet devices.  And that means people from Port-au-Prince to Benghazi can watch television reruns on Hulu, watch weird videos on YouTube and look down upon their huts and refugee camps using the satellite images from Google Earth.

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Now for the bad news. Even though we are entering a brave new world promising incredible access to information, a lot of the information available is absolute junk.  This true especially for the news.

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The problem is found in the system itself.  Every major newspaper and every major Internet service provider offers a news page where anyone can browse the headlines for free.  Google has a news page.  Yahoo has a news page.  Microsoft has a news page.

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But there just isn’t enough news to fill those pages.  Our opportunities to find news on the Internet are growing faster than the news itself.  There just isn’t enough happening that is newsworthy to post on the Internet for you and me to read.

In the past, during the golden age of journalism, great newspapers like the Washington Post and the New York Times and the Weekly World News pledged to report “all of the news that is fit to print.”  Please read that promise carefully:  all of the news that is fit to print.  That implies that not all news is suitable to be put in a newspaper.  Some stories are just too trivial or too stupid to make it past an editor.  Traditionally, only the most interesting, most helpful and/or most topical stories made it into print.  In other words, quality mattered.

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It isn’t that way any more.  In this new age of fast information access, quality has lost its meaning and importance. Now quantity is king.  Electronic space, millions of times larger than all of the newspapers that have ever been printed, needs to be filled with something.

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Think about it.

The results are simply bizarre, and – truth be told – a little frightening.  When the quality of information loses its importance, the quality of thought and reason suffers.

For example, just yesterday I read the following headline on the Google News website:

“NAVAJOS LARGELY UNSCATHED BY RECESSION”

I want you to think about this headline.  It basically reports that the group of Native Americans more commonly called Navajos – who are perhaps one of the poorest people in the United States, suffering from lack of education, lack of health care and double digit unemployment – are not really being affected by the recent economic down turn.  And why? Because they are already dirt poor, that’s why.

 

The news article quoted some idiot who explained why the Great Recession isn’t really being noticed on Navajo reservations:

“Most Navajos own their own homes, tend not to invest in the stock market and have long had difficulties borrowing money, distinguishing them from millions of other Americans who’ve suffered from rising mortgage payments, sinking 401(k) retirement accounts and stricter terms from lenders.”

If you are not totally amazed at the abject stupidity of this “news” then perhaps I can help you understand by suggesting a headline that would be equally stupid for exactly the same reasons:

“RECENT STUDY SHOWS DEAD PEOPLE HAVE FEWER HEALTH PROBLEMS”

Navajos are not affected by the Great Recession for the exact same reason why dead people don’t get sick: because they are already in such bad shape that it just doesn’t matter.  Swine flu isn’t a problem for people who have died for the same reason unemployment isn’t a problem for people who already don’t have a job.  

You know what else impoverished Navajos aren’t affected by? The increase in swimming pool maintenance fees and the rising price of caviar.

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Lucky Navajos!

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The fact that our banks won’t lend any money doesn’t matter to people who could never get a loan anyway. Reporting this kind of stuff as “news” is like reporting thathpigs are born small but grow big.lIt isn’t news. It is an observation dressed up and presented to look like news.

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It gets worse.  Not only are stupid things reported, but also stupid people are actually allowed to make the news itself.  For example, yesterday I also read the following headline:

“STEELERS LINEBACKER HARRISON WON’T VISIT WHITE HOUSE”

Here is what happened: President Obama invited Super Bowl champions Pittsburgh Steelers to the White House.  Linebacker James Harrison refused to go because Obama “would probably have invited Arizona if they had won.”

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Harrison is the one in the air.

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Excuse me? Is he kidding? No, he is not kidding, and that is exactly what is wrong with this “news” article.  He is one serious intellectually challenged American style football player. I mean, what the f**k.  Seriously, what the f**k? Is there anything inside his cranium at all?

Mr. Harrison – if I may address you personally – please try to understand that being angry with the President because Obama would have invited the other team if they had won is just as stupid as a man divorcing his wife because, if she had not agreed to marry him, she would probably have married someone else.

Oh hell. I sincerely hope Harrison doesn’t read this, because if he does, he is going to agree and divorce his wife. I do not want to be responsible for that or anything like it.  I am sure they are a happy couple. I mean, I bet Harrison’s wife takes advantage of his lack of mental acuity to do just about anything she wants.

“Hey, honey, who is that in our bed making love to you?”

“No one, sweety. You are dreaming.

“I am?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Okay!”

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Harrison thinking.

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But I digress.  The point I originally wanted to make is that his stupid reason for not visiting the White House is just a stupid reason. It isn’t newsworthy.  Yet it has engulfed enormous space on the internet.

Navajos that are “lucky” because they are condemned to hopeless poverty and stupid football players aren’t newsworthy.  At best that is information devoid of usefulness or meaningful content.

Welcome to the Information Age.

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********************

ZippyT.Pinhead writes:

” ‘Welcome to the Information Age?’ That is a terribly weak last line for an essay that is marginal at best.”

Zippy, I am forced by self-honesty to agree with your opinion that I ended the essay poorly. However, as for your assessment that the essay itself was somehow not up to scratch, I offer the following in rebuttal:

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>

HEADLINE – POLICE APPREHEND BIGGEST SERIAL KILLER

By Rhappi Kanasta, Ass. Press Writer – Thu Apr 30, 9:59 pm ET

LOS ANGELES – Police believe a 72-year-old insurance claims adjuster arrested earlier this month is the biggest serial killer in the city’s history.

“This guy is huge,” Capt. Denis Cremins said. “When we say we caught him laying around the house, we mean “around” the house.”

The suspect weighs over a metric ton and is so large that his arrest required two specially trained SWAT units just to put him in improvised handcuffs originally used to restrain emotionally unstable, bipolar hippos at the Los Angeles Zoo.

“We trained in Iraq, so my men are familiar with morbidly obese perpetrators,” Denis said. “But this is way beyond my experience.  How could he let that happen to him? He should be ashamed of himself.”

Serial killers often over-eat, said FBI profiler, David Carr. “It really is a big problem and it can lead to clinical depression. Without counseling and medical intervention, a serial killer’s uncontrollable appetite for fast food eventually interferes with their predatory activities, and when that happens suicidal thoughts are not uncommon” Carr explained.

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Source for headline:  http://largest-ever-serial-killer-captured.html

SARAH PALIN’S GREATEST HITS!!!

[Alaska Governor Sarah Palin spoke at a right-to-life dinner last night in Evansville, Indiana via satellite (shown above). The governor teared up when discussing her son Trig who was diagnosed with Down syndrome before birth. "Trig is a miracle. He is the best thing that ever happened to me and I want other women to have that opportunity to give birth to mentally challenged children who will grow up and vote Republican," she said.]

(Ass. Press)

My dear friend, Betty – whom I am secretly in love with – asks me why I won’t leave Sarah Palin alone. “Your guy won,” Betty points out.

First of all, Obama was not and is not “my guy.” He won my vote by being the lesser of evils. And I wasn’t alone. Moderate Republicans like me were thrown under the political bus the moment John McCain chose Sarah Palin as his running mate. So we crossed party lines and voted for Obama – more out of protest against the insanity that has taken over our party than as a sign of support for Obama. If not for this cross-over vote, Obama would not have won.

But this created a problem that still has to be dealt with. When moderate Republicans like me left the GOP, we left behind the brain dead, ideologically driven, bible thumping morons that McCain was kissing up to when he chose Palin. And that means, like Iowa, these same morons will have a disproportionate influence on the next national elections.

And that is why I won’t leave Sarah Palin alone. She is still out there, and she is taking steps to run for president. She is actively kissing up to the idiot vote that the GOP now represents, which means it is actually possible that Palin will win the nomination.

So it is very, very important to remind people that Sarah Palin represents everything that has been wrong about America for the last 25 years. She is an utterly corrupt liar who believes in a perverted version of Jesus who approves of hate, and greed, and ignorance. Oh Lord, look what they’ve done to you and the evil they do in your name.

So I give you a video collecting Sarah’s finest moments during the last campaign. Watch it. It will be a test of your own personal mettle. If, after watching this you feel that Palin would be a good choice for President of the United States, then you are simply too stupid to vote. Or drive a car. Or carry sharp objects. Or raise children. You contribute nothing to the world other than being a means for evil people to get rich and stay rich and to give birth to and raise more idiots who will do the same stupid stuff. If you died this very moment the world would be a better place, because there would be one less moron for evil people to manipulate and one less idiot to meet up with some other idiot and misuse the miracle of life to create more idiots.

And just for fun:

THERE IS IRONY HERE, IF YOU LOOK DEEP ENOUGH

Let’s talk about funny.

I won’t bore you describing the tiny tragedies of my beginnings.  We’ve all suffered, and, when viewed in proper perspective, all suffering is trivial.  When the self-indulgent drama is brushed aside, I best remember laughter.  Through it all, the darkness was split and punctuated by laughter.

Samuel Clemens is famously misquoted as saying “man is the only animal that laughs, or needs to.”  The first time I heard that quote I understood it thoroughly.  Humanity was born the moment a cold, hungry, shivering animal looked around at the noise, waste and horror – and laughed – because there was nothing else to do about it but laugh.

I vaguely remember pain and dread.  Then something happened, something I still struggle to understand.  I concluded it was good and right to encourage others to laugh.

At first it was my immediate family, in particular my mother.  Her laughter was special.  But so was my older brother and younger sister’s.  It was a simple thing that cost nothing, but made so much difference for those brief moments in time.  Light in the darkness.  Trembling, tentative order forced out of chaos by the simple act of willing it to be so.  For a brief moment, the Power of Creation, the shadow of what it must feel like to be a god.

Funnier than thou

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And so it continued, it was and it has always been.  When all is said and done, the truest, strongest, most meaningful bond I share with my wife is laughter.  Slowly, time robs us of everything that brought us together, but shared laughter holds us close.

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And our son – our only child.   I am a proud father.  My son is shaping up to be a good man – a better man than his father.  I am proud that his mind is sharp. I am grateful that, unlike his old man, he is truly kind and caring. But I am most proud of his fine and complex sense of humor.  It is the one gift I hoped to give him, valued above intellect and heart because the mind and the spirit are subsumed by it.   One cannot be truly funny unless one is smart and sensitive.

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God doesn’t laugh.  I’m not kidding: look it up.  God laughs exactly twice in the Old Testament and not at all in the New – and both times in the Old He laughs “in derision.”

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Humans laugh.  Only we humans.  And that is absolute proof that God loves us.  Animals are too busy living from moment to moment to laugh.  Angels are too perfect to so much as crack a smile.  But we beautifully flawed humans not only laugh, we are inspired to make – to help – to encourage – others to laugh too.  It is a kindness only we know.  It is a blessing only we can bestow.  It is a light only we can spark.

I love to make people laugh.  It is my connection to the infinite.   It is the absurdity that makes total sense.

And that is enough.

That and money.  Lots of money.  And sex.  Kinky sex – not the “man on top, get it over with quick” kind of sex.  And champagne – the good French stuff, not cheap California swill. And double-jointed women – two, whenever possible.

Fiat lux, oh my brothers and sisters.

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A DREAM DEFERRED

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My house was recently remodeled, and I am disappointed. To make matters worse, my disappointment is causing me to question my goals and dreams.

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Me, standing in the wreckage of my dreams...

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My disappointment has nothing to do with the work that was done.  The construction company that did the work – North State Residential Development – did a great job.

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Rob - God of Electricity and other stuff

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The work was performed on time and on budget.  North State more or less built me a new home in five months.  No one in my neighborhood believed it was possible.  But these guys worked on weekends, in the dark and even in the rain to get the job done.

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The men responsible for my bitter disappointment.

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But every time I look at my new home I cannot put behind me the hopes I had when I originally decided to remodel my home. You see, I am an evil genius, and that means I have always wanted a secret lair. Allow me to explain.

There are lots of evil geniuses in the world – but they are not all created equal.Sure, there are high profile evil geniuses sitting around in big chairs, stroking persian cats and using their genius to plan and execute diabolical plans to threaten the world with the goal of getting rich.

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My role model - Ernst Stavro Blofeld

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Despite these few “stars” most evil geniuses live very humble lives. We have families. We go to church on Sundays.

Secretly evil.

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But we live secret lives where we dream of threatening humanity with extinction in order to become enormously wealthy.

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I am that kind of evil genius.  My extreme evil and my uncanny genius are well established.  How else do you explain my otherwise unexplainable success?  I’ve spent my life crafting a respectable persona that hides my secret evil identity – Professor Iniquitous.  Over the years I have hatched countless ingenious plans for taking over the world – none of which I have been able to execute.

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There is one primary reason why I haven’t taken over the world yet.  It isn’t the lack of sufficient evil.  If the editors over at Merriam Webster knew about me,  the word “evil” in their dictionary would have my picture next to it.  And I do not lack for genius.  I am always the smartest guy in the room and I know all of the answers to questions asked on television quiz shows.  Nevertheless, I lack the one thing that all successful evil geniuses possess:  membership in the Amalgamation of Evil Geniuses (AEG).

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The AEG is an international labor union that more or less controls all evil genius activity on this planet.  You can’t really be an evil genius without belonging to AEG.  And to join AEG you must have a secret lair – a private place to conduct your evil experiments and hatch your evil plans.

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So when my wife and I talked about remodeling our home, I was very excited about the possibilities of including a secret lair in the project.With a secret lair, I finally had a chance of joining AEG – and after that happened, it was only a matter of time before the world would be mine.

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The contractor at North State loved the idea.I talked to their architect, who drew up the plans and even made a 3D computer simulation of what my secret lair would look like after it was built.I sat there in the architect’s office as he showed me my underground secret lair – my future laboratory, my control room, my nuclear missile silo, my shark tank and the kitchen where my evil minions could microwave hot pocket snacks.It was a dream come true.

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Then I saw the price.  Underground lairs are very, very expensive.  So we began to reduce the project. The shark tank was the first thing to go.  I really didn’t need a shark tank.I could use other means to dispose of the secret agents sent to stop me.

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Then I gave up the missile silo.Nuclear weapons were old fashioned. I could eventually replace the nuclear missile with a much less expensive death ray.

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Even with these sacrifices, the costs associated with a secret lair were just too high to afford. More and more of what I wanted was cut away until eventually I was left with what amounts to a secret closet in the garage.

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Don’t get me wrong:the closet is very secret.  Unless you knew what to look for you wouldn’t really notice it.  But it is still a closet.  I can stand in it, but that’s about it.  I really cannot use it to menace the world.

And that is exactly what AEG told me when I sent them a picture of my secret closet attached to my membership application.They wrote and told me

The AEG New Member Selection Committee has decided to hold onto your application until such time that you improve upon your secret lair to meet or exceed AEG’s secret lair standards as described in the AEG publication “So You Think You Have a Secret Lair…” a copy of which is enclosed for your convenience.

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So I guess my plans for world domination are going to have to wait.  Maybe I should reconsider this whole evil genius thing.In the meantime, I am using my secret closet to store some gardening supplies…

Wait! That gives me an idea – a beautifully evil idea!  I can infect seemingly ordinary gardening supplies to spread bacteria genetically engineered to transform people from home gardeners into an army of zombie slaves!  Mooohahahahah!!

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I am back, baby!

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DISAPPOINTED WITH OBAMA

People of Earth, we have a new President of the United States, the honeymoon is over, and I miss George Bush.

You may think that the “honeymoon” I speak of is the bipartisan cooperation that traditionally follows a presidential election. During this “honeymoon period,” a newly elected president – either in their first term or re-elected for their second term – can make big changes without much debate. George Washington himself used his “honeymoon period” to support legislation prohibiting discrimination against short people – or, in the parlance of the times “persons of diminutive stature.” Many experts consider this the beginning of what was to become the American Civil Rights Movement.

 

 

Other American Presidents failed to take advantage of their honeymoon period to shape our nation through new legislation. For example, Martin Van Buren hosted nude swimming parties in a pond outside of the White House.

 

Martin Van Buren - party animal.

 

Millard Filmore conducted eldritch surgical experiments involving humans and animals.

 

 

Chester A. Arthur required all members of his cabinet to wear masks that looked exactly like him and insisted that, whenever they met, everyone refer to one another only as “Luigi.”

 

 

Such presidential frivolities ended when their respective honeymoons were over.

George W. Bush took full advantage of his honeymoon to enact a tax break for rich people, which not only pissed away a $128 billion budget surplus, but also is one of the primary causes for the $3 trillion deficit Bush left us with – as well as the first domino that fell in the chain of events that created what is shaping up to be a world-wide economic depression.

 

"You want your prosperity back? I got your prosperity right here..."

But the kind of honeymoon that allowed George Washington and George W. Bush to cement their places in history isn’t the “honeymoon” I am talking about. And I am not talking about Obama’s “honeymoon” being over. He didn’t have one. The honeymoon I am talking about is the one between Obama and the American people. All honeymoons end when the mystery vanishes, and there is no mystery about what the Obama administration is going to do.

The next four years are going to be boring – incredibly, mind-numbingly boring.

 

Modern Americans may pick their president with the hopes that they will lead wisely, but we value our presidents, not for their wisdom, but for their entertainment value. It started with John Kennedy. We picked him because he looked good on television. The drama of his presidency – from the Cuban missile crisis to his horrifically tragic assassination – riveted our attention.

 

 

Lyndon Johnson turned out to be entertainingly crazy.

 

 

 

You can’t beat Richard Nixon for entertainment value.

 

 

Gerald Ford is remembered more for falling down a lot than for any of his policy achievements.

 

 

Jimmy Carter continues to entertain us by simply refusing to go away.

 

 

Ronald Reagan, for all his faults and strengths, was fun to listen to and watch.

 

 

George Bush Senior endlessly delighted us by not knowing what a supermarket price scanner was and by having horse manure thrown at him in Brazil.

 

 

Bill Clinton’s rise and fall reminded us of a Greek drama where the hero is a great leader, brought down by a fatal flaw – i.e., an uncontrollable passion for chubby interns.

 

 

Bill Clinton's drug of choice.

And America didn’t vote for George Bush as much as we voted against Al Gore because Gore was painfully dull.

 

 

 

 

After only a few weeks in office, it is abysmally clear that we are not going to be entertained by the Obama administration. We made the mistake of choosing a president who is a good family man and thinks through virtually everything he does or says. There will be no improvisation in the Obama administration.

 

 

Which is why I miss George W. Bush. Sure, he was an utter disaster, leaving everything he touched or even considered worse off than it was before it captured his attention. Sure, he made a lot of his rich friends even richer, but the way he did it wrecked the ship we all live on, and – rich or poor – we are all going down as it sinks. As my good for nothing liberal son points out, and I cannot argue against, no single person in the history of the world has left more people around the world worse off for his passing than has George W. Bush.

 

 

But I digress. The point is that, for all his faults – or maybe because of them – George W. Bush was incredibly entertaining. Every time he opened his mouth, something amazing might come out.

 

 

I especially enjoyed watching and listening to Bush mangle the English language as if he were a developmentally disabled eight year old. For example, he referred to himself as “the decider.” He made up his own words, like “subliminable” and “misunderestimate.” You had to laugh when you heard him say things like “I know how hard it is to put food on your family.”

 

 

Well, none of that is going to happen in an Obama administration. He is just going to plod along, thinking things through, making sense, grappling with problems no one can solve – and just being no fun to watch or listen to at all.

 

 

Unless I am misunderestimating him.

 

 

 

 

NEWS YOU CAN’T USE

Something is happening to me and I am not sure why. Maybe I’m getting old. Or maybe watching the world economy collapse is making me reevaluate what is important and what is not important.

Like you, I now find myself working harder for less. When that happens, people tend to become impatient with trivia. They simply don’t have time to waste on foolishness.

And so, with a sharper focus prompted by advancing years or economic worry – or both – I find that most of what I read in my daily newspaper is utterly worthless. I suddenly realize that the majority of the headlines that reach out in an attempt to grab my attention are not worth the effort to scan them. They are either abysmally trivial, insult my intelligence, or both.

The following are real headlines pulled from real newspapers that I read. The odds are good you’ve seen these headlines, too.

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“SCIENTISTS FLABBERGASTED BY SPEEDY BIRDS”

I read this article and learned that a certain kind of songbird travels more than 300 miles a day on its annual migration, and scientists have no idea how they do it.

Let me solve the mystery: they do it by flapping their little wings really, really hard and fast. That’s how they do it. Mystery solved.

Here is what I want to know: can I eat those songbirds? If not, don’t bother me and don’t waste any more time and money on the problem – because it isn’t a problem. Instead of spending valuable time and money figuring out how birds fly fast, concentrate on discovering a new, clean, cheap energy source we need to stop industrial civilization from collapsing.

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“EXISTING HOME SALES RISE, BUT PRICES DROP”

Gee, I wonder why? The headline seems to argue that it is a mystery why prices don’t go up as sales go up. But it isn’t a mystery. Any idiot now knows home sales are rising because the price for houses is dropping. The lower the price goes, the more homes will be bought.

This headline presumes that you and I know nothing about basic economics and that we are likely to buy stuff that we don’t need and cannot afford and it is a mystery when we stopped buying stuff we don’t need or cannot afford.

This headline reflects a way of thinking that is dying or dead. The economic depression we are entering killed it. We may have been mindless consumers once, but we can’t afford to be stupid about our money any longer. We are through buying stuff we can’t afford or don’t need. If they want us to buy stuff, then they should make stuff we need and sell it for a price we can afford.

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“BLUE THE HUE OF CREATIVITY? RED FOR DETAIL?”

This is another headline for the Who Gives a F**k file. Perhaps there was a time when people could afford to waste valuable time worrying about the appropriate color to wear when they write a sonnet or fix a computer, but that time is gone. It is time to worry about keeping the lights on and heat in the house.

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“WOMEN BETTER THAN MEN AT SPOTTING A CUTE BABY”

How much money did someone spend to figure this out? I know women can spot a cute baby better and faster than men and I didn’t waste a nickel hiring anyone to research the problem – because it isn’t a problem: it is something everyone who has been to a mall knows. Stop wasting my time telling me things I already know.

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“NEW DRUG MAKES EYELASHES THICKER”

This headline is for an article that is basically a big advertisement for a new product – which no one is going to buy. Here is the choice being presented: you can either spend money buying dinner for you and your wife or you can spend that same money on a pill that will make your wife’s eyelashes longer. Anyone who chooses the pill is a moron. I choose to have dinner with my wife. Her short eyelashes are just fine for all normal purposes.

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“RESEARCHERS SAY ANIMALS PLAN FOR THE FUTURE”

How does knowing that animals plan stuff help me pay my bills? If animals are planning to break into my home and kill me while I am sleeping, then I want to know more. But otherwise I simply don’t care.

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“JAPAN ALUMINUM STOCKPILES JUMP TO HIGHEST IN DECADE”

Apparently there is a lot of aluminum in Japan right now – more aluminum than the Japanese have had in years. One question: so what? Why would anyone other than a Japanese aluminum seller or buyer care how much aluminum is stockpiled in Japan? Who is the super genius that made the decision to put this story in my newspaper?

None of these headlines are worth the ink used to print them. The information they provide is either wrong or worthless. It is no wonder why newspapers across the country are closing down or cutting back. Time is precious now more than since the Great Depression of the 1930’s. Either give us news we can use, or go away.

REVIEW: WITHOUT WARNING by John Birmingham

I just spent the last two days putting off high paying work to read WITHOUT WARNING, the latest novel by John Birmingham.  I’ve never reviewed a book before, so I am compelled to enact what I imagine a book reviewer would say, and this is it:

I experienced John Birmingham’s WITHOUT WARNING in the same manner I would have experienced a full glass of a good California zinfandel: it began strong in character, getting better with each taste and ended with a big finish, making me sad it was gone and leaving me wanting more.

No kidding. It was a really good read. The zinfandel analogy is spot on.  I highly recommend WITHOUT WARNING to the thousands of people who read this blog. Go out and buy it. I promise you won’t be able to put it down, and when you are forced by time and fate to do so, you will be scheming to find time to pick it up and continue.

Okay. I’ve done my book reviewer thing. Now it is time to get back to what I do a little better.

All of the characters – other than Fifi – were memorable. I especially enjoyed seeing the Rhino and a cameo by Murphy.  But the one character I enjoyed most – but didn’t quite get enough of – was Stavros. I LOVED that guy, and I believe he was more pivotal than would appear on first reading.

John Birmingham, where ever you are, please continue to develop this fine, Greek character (whom I suspect also has an Irish ancestry).

The guy on the left has an Irish last name.

As a matter of fact, please consider adding additional Greco-Irish characters, perhaps one that is an attorney with a small liver.  Yeah!  Wouldn’t that be great?  I mean, really, who doesn’t want to read about a character who is half Greek, half Irish – and is an attorney – who gets drunk really, really easily? And, while you’re at it, give him (has to be a guy) Attention Deficit Disorder. And flat feet.  Oh yeah, and he has to be bald.  I mean, that is a must, don’t you think – for verisimilitude and pathos?  Bald middle aged attorneys of Greek/Irish ancestry just reek of pathos. At least I hope that reek is pathos.

I am not a professional writer, but I can tell you that this is a very good idea.

The author of WITHOUT WARNING writing down my idea for possible future reference.

 

And remember: the Wave eats people.

 

THE NEW REPUBLICAN PARTY

By Paul Nicholas Boylan,

Columnist

[Reprinted with permission of the Sacramento Valley Mirror, where this article first appeared.]

The Republican National Committee (RNC) has chosen former Maryland Lt. Gov Michael Steele – an African American – to be its Chairman. Several RNC members said it was a historic moment for the party.

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Michael Steele frowning.

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“This is a dramatic sign that the Republican Party is the real party of change,” said current RNC chair Mike Duncan. “The GOP is seen as the party that can take a one hundred dollar bill and change it into four twenties,” Duncan said. “But now we will be seen as something else.”

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Incredibly rich, incredibly white women

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“This is the first step of our effort to reach out to the Negro voter,” said former Tennessee GOP leader Chip Saltzman – who distributed a CD to RNC committee members featuring a song called “Barack the Magic Negro.”

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Chip Saltzman and his brother Chip

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“The liberal media – which is controlled by the Jews,” Saltsman explained, “took that song out of context. I sent that song to each and every RNC member to alert them to the fact that American politics has changed, and we have to change with it.  I believe I helped get Mike chosen as chairman. The song pointed out that the Democrats have a magic Negro, so we need one, too.”

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“It is classic case of one-upsmanship,” Duncan agreed. “So they have a Negro. Well, our negro is better than their Negro,” he said. “The Democrats’ negro is a half-breed.  Our Republican Negro, on the other hand, is full Negro on his mother’s side and his father’s side.  No race mixing miscegenation here. None of our social conservative base can accuse us of promoting the mongrelization of the races.”

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Angering social conservatives

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“And our Negro has a Christian name. An American name,” said Track Hemplin, an unemployed grade school custodian and Civil War reenactor. “Our negro is named Michael Steele.  Say it with me – ‘Michael Steele….’ sounds like a football quarterback.    But the Democrats’ Negro is named Barak Hussein Obama.  Hell, that sounds like one of them Mooslam terrorists.  If I’m looking at two male Negros, all things being equal, I would feel more kindly toward the one that isn’t a half breed and has a name that sounds American.” Hemplin admitted.

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“And our Negro has a kung fu grip. And he comes with a vehicle,” Hemplin added.

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Political pundits believe that the RNC’s choosing Steele is a sign of a more fundamental shift in Republican political strategery.  “Historically, racism has worked very well for the Republican Party,” said Dr. Krista Schnurstein, Professor Emeritus of the American Institute of Political Theory. “Racial hate was a unifier and a persuader. Poor, uneducated whites could be persuaded to support Republican candidates – who want to cut their wages, health care and food safety and keep them poor – purely because of their common hatred for black people.  Politicians could take advantage of racial stereotypes to create fear, which would then translate into votes for the “law and order” Republican candidates.”

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“But the effectiveness of racism vanished during Obama’s inauguration,” explained Herman Oberstein, a researcher with the Heritage Foundation. “White America watched in amazement as hundreds of thousands of black people converged on Washington D.C., and yet no one was murdered, no one was shot, no one was stabbed, no one died. Not one white woman had the letter “B” cut backwards into her cheek.  White America was astonished at how unexpectedly well-behaved all those colored folks were.”

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Norman Weisser, a freelance political consultant agrees. “There were no riots. No looting. Nothing,” Weisser said.  “When the world looked out at the faces of those watching and participating in Obama’s inauguration, they didn’t see white and black. They saw Americans.  And that spelled the end of racial division as a political tool.”

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Despite both parties embracing African Americans, racism is still very much alive and will be for the foreseeable future.

“Hate is still great,” proclaims Track Bramble, Exalted Cyclops, “and is still a powerful political force.  Just because the GOP don’t hate Negroes no more don’t mean we can’t hate Hispanics and Greeks – ‘specially those filthy illegal immigrants.  And homosexuals. It is still perfectly okay to hate homos.  And Mooslams.  And women who work outside of the home.  It is still okay to hate them.  And environmentalists. And wine drinking east coast intellectual elites.  And the theory of evolution.  And ugly people.  Dontcha just hate ugly people?”

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East coast intellectuals: it is still okay to hate them.

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Republican Strategists, however, are anxious to “keep the eyes on the prize” – which is the growing demographic of stupid voters.

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“The true goal here is to convince stupid people to vote Republican,” said the Reverend Billy Bob, Director of the William Robert Law School and Christian Catering Emporium. “Let’s not forget that stupid people are forty-two times more likely to vote Republican than someone who can read and who may have gone to college,” Bob continued.  “Let us also not forget that stupidity is cross-cultural and cross-racial. Just as there are stupid white people who vote Republican, there are stupid black people that might vote Republican, too.”

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And Republicans will thank them for voting republican.

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And that is the true importance of the RNC picking an African American to be their chairman.  The choice was more than a sign of change:  it is a desperate and cynical gamble on the adamantine belief that black voters are too stupid to tell the difference between a Republican and a Democrat.

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