#247 - Happy Is as Happy Does

My, oh my. What an interesting report. Pew Research Center has published a report titled "Are We Happy Yet?" that purports to gauge how Americans are feeling these days. If I may skip briefly to the bottom line, I find most interesting the idea that nearly 84% of all Americans, based on the sampling, report themselves to be "Pretty happy" or better. In fact, 50% said "Pretty happy," while 34% indicated that they were "Very happy."

That 84% figure becomes significant in an election year because, according to liberal doctrine, a majority of Americans are required to be pretty miserable so long as a Republican sits in office. (Any office, by the way... it's certainly not limited to the White House. All campaigns down to Municipal Dog Catcher are based on the premise that constituents must be miserable. Why else would anyone run?)

Oddly enough (and of great concern to Democrats, I'm sure) is the idea that of those in the "Very happy" category, 45% were Republican, while 30% were Democrats. (The fact that 29% were reported as being "Independent" points out a slight mathematical, um, irregularity of 104%, but I'm sure there must be a rounding error in there somewhere. We programmers love rounding errors.) The report even makes the case that this happiness advantage really has little to do with who is in power. The numbers, according to Pew, have remained more or less consistent since 1972. This means they've had two Democratic administrations in which to get happier than the Republicans, but have yet to overtake them.

I'm not entirely certain why Pew chose to concentrate primarily on the "Very happy" category. Some might think that "Pretty happy" wasn't bad. "Pretty happy" might seem to indicate that things are under control, at least. It acknowledges that life may be a constant struggle, but that we can derive happiness even when circumstances seem to conspire otherwise. If you were to catch me off guard and ask the question, I might be inclined to say "pretty happy" as opposed to "very happy," but I would also tell you that "pretty happy" also means "quite satisfied." And it would be true. I am, on the whole, satisfied with my life, even as I realize that things could be better. My wife and I, for example, could be healthier than we are today. On the other hand, I think it improbable that we could possibly be any happier together as a couple. That, for me, is the definition of satisfaction. I'm pretty happy, and life is good.

Now, it could be, I suppose, that I'm merely delusional. Perhaps I'm choosing to overlook all the tribulation and sickness in the world today. But I doubt it. I worry constantly about such things. I'm always worried about our ongoing war in Iraq, and the war on terror in general. I see no real end to it in the near future, and, yes, I wonder whether Iraq has become the quagmire our opponents claim it has already become. But I am comfortable with the idea that combating terror is our current Cold War. It probably won't end in the next decade. My girls may very well become adults with the understanding that Islamic extremism has become their communism. I worry, but that doesn't mean I'm not happy. Perhaps it's because I refuse to feel guilty for every wrong found in the world today. Democrats, on the whole, don't have that ability. Maybe that's why they're so unhappy. Maybe they're so busy trying to ascribe blame for every evil in the world that they don't have time to enjoy the lives that are their gift from God. Who needs that kind of life?

The Pew report, taken at face value, seems to offer some sort of formula for those who wish to achieve "Very happy" status in this life. In no particular order, these are the attributes of a very happy person:

• Be a Republican


• Attend church weekly or more


• Be married (Woody's enjoinder: It helps to be married to your best friend!)


• Have money. The happier ones earn $100K or more. I guess I'm still satisfied with "Pretty happy."


• Health and education count. Health may be obvious, but "education" is less so, in my mind. I don't have a graduate degree. However, I am constantly expanding my personal knowledge. I think that counts.

Taken as a package, I find the report to be a nice vindication of the life I lead. I am a happily married, church-going Republican with enough money to meet our needs. Does it matter to me that I am more or less happy than anyone else? No, not really. I gave up on comparing my life with anyone else's just about the time I hooked up with Mrs. Woody. We're so busy building our happiness together that I guess I just don't have time to worry about the comparisons.

Happy as charged.

#246 - Funny...

...because it's true.

#245 - Sound Bite Politics

Desperation runs deep in the ranks of the politically unhinged. Believe it or not, I can understand their frustrations. It's the same sense of dark foreboding I always felt whenever a Democrat was in control of the White House, whether that was Jimmy Carter (the first one I was old enough to be scared of) or Billy-Bob Clinton. There was always that underlying sense that the liberals were selling the country into slavery, and it seems they're still on that warpath.

Just a recent sampling from Drudge should be enough to illustrate the point.

Let's start with everyone's favorite sore loser, Al Gore. Gore is still chafing from having had the election taken away from him by the manufacturers of the ballots used in Palm Beach, Florida. And why, exactly, would the country be better off today, Mr. Gore?

"How many times have we listened to the current administration and in (state and national Republican offices), and after a few years, we wake up and say that what they have been telling us is completely wrong," Gore said. "I'm not calling it a lie," but a "false impression."

During the Clinton administration, Gore and the president got regular bulletins about potential terrorist attacks, resulting in a sort of "fire-drill," a soul-searching approach to learn "what else can we do? What are our sources? And make sure we're prepared," he said.

Does that mean, Al, that you and Billy-Bob had a plan to thwart the 9/11 attacks? Did you, perchance, share that plan with anyone? I mean, anyone who wasn't your official biographer?

I didn't think so. Must've been a false impression.

If Palm Beach was Gore's Waterloo, then Ohio certainly qualifies as the state that robbed John Seared Kerry of his chances to lead us into a glorious hedonism. His take on why he lost in 2004:

Kerry said that he had exceeded his goals in every precinct of America in the last election. “That means we have to set bigger goals,” Kerry said, stressing the need for the Democrats to gain control of one of the Houses of Congress.

Bueno. I understand now. "President of the United States" isn't as big a goal as "bloodless coup of one or more houses of Congress." Thanks for clearing that up for me.

Finally, we have a Hollywood A-lister who's been eating his Wheaties. George Clooney tells the stories no one else cares about. Except other Hollywood liberals, that is. Still, his successes of late have fueled his intense desire to run the country, much as it did for Rob Reiner a decade or so ago. Hit it, George!

"It's not merely our right to question our government, it's our duty. Whatever the consequences," he lectures.

"We can't demand freedom of speech, then turn around and say, 'But please don't say bad things about us.' You gotta be a grownup and take your hits."

The actor vents frustration that "liberal" has become a dirty word. "Too many people run away from the label. They whisper it like you'd whisper, 'I'm a Nazi.'"

But as for Clooney, "I am a liberal. Fire away," he taunts.

Yes, George, yes... you're absolutely right about questioning our government. And I do, really. I take nothing for granted, no matter who happens to sit in the Oval Office. But - and here's the beautiful thing about the First Amendment, George - I also have the right and the duty to question our Hollywood luminaries. So the question, George, becomes, "What have you, personally, done to foster and encourage a constructive dialog between the opposing sides of these thorny issues, George?" I've heard a lot of invective coming from your side of the argument, George, but not many practical solutions. "War is bad, even stupid," you say. Sure, I can get behind that. I happen to agree. But what practical solution do you offer for ending it? Bring the troops home? Simple as that? And what will we do when the next 9/11 attack occurs on our soil, George? What will Hollywood do then?

Complain, would be my guess.

Well, liberals Clooneys, you know the solution, don't you? If you really want to run the country (I mean, more than you already do), put together a coherent argument and sell it to the voters.

Simple as that.

#244 - Our Point

This is precisely why our church relies on continuing revelation.

Just sayin'.

#243 - Woody's Oscar Live-Blogging - UPDATED

Huh? The Oscars are tonight?

Nuts.

Wonder what's on PBS...?

UPDATE: 60 channels. 59 reruns. 1 exercise in gratuitous self-congratulation. Time for a DVD.

#242 - How Does One Eulogize Someone Who Ain't Dead Yet?

(H/T: Drudge)

Art Buchwald is, according to this report, refusing kidney dialysis. He chooses instead to face death on his own terms, having no idea what awaits him. He feels this is a natural way to go, and continues joking with friends and colleagues. He feels, truth be told, no different even after a month without the procedure that's supposed to save his life.

This is vintage Buchwald.

I suppose that, in at least one way, it's ironic that Buchwald has always been one of my favorite columnists. I first became acquainted with his prolific wit in the closing days of the Nixon administration, where Tricky Dicky was one of Buchwald's favorite dart boards. Since I didn't realize just how conservative I truly was until well into adulthood, I had no idea that I was supposed to disagree with his Kennedy-esque perspectives. I just enjoyed the well-sharpened barbs he threw into the politicians, public figures, and hypocrites that are rife in today's world.

Art Buchwald is, let's face it, one of the reasons why I first began to write for a hobby. He, along with Erma Bombeck and, later, Dave Barry, are also the primary reasons I choose to write humor. I have always appreciated their abilities to turn politics and societal anomalies into fodder for gut-busting laughter. I can only aspire to follow weakly in their footsteps.

So, if Art truly has one foot in the grave, God bless him. I can only pray that his slide into home plate is a smooth one.

#241 - This Whole UAE Ports Thingie...

I have to admit that, politically, I am completely neutral on this Portgate issue. So they're from the UAE. So what? I have no idea from which country the owners of our local convenience stores hail, but I can guarantee you that most of them are ESL types, if you get my drift. Even my local Subway has taken on a decidedly Middle Eastern atmosphere this past year. I have no problem patronizing their businesses because they seem like genuinely nice people, and I really don't think they're going to hide an IED in my cold cut special.

I think the President's largest problem here is that the entire affair smacks of just the sort of secrecy for which the Democrats continually accuse him. Did it never once occur to this administration, after four years of post-9/11 sensitivities, that folks might just get the wrong impression about this deal?

Even President Bush knows that, in politics, perception is reality where the voters are concerned. Now, granted, Bush will not be running for office in 2008, but I can't see him being terribly excited about handing the Oval Office over to the Dems simply because he forgot this simple truth.

For as much as the administration attempts to convince everyone that this is not a matter of [trumpet fanfare: ] National Security, they seem genuinely surprised that normal citizens seem to perceive it as precisely that. But, hey, it's been more than four years. We haven't gone above "Yellow" alert for, what, months now. How could we possibly be squeamish about turning six major ports over to a country that recognized the Taliban as a legitimate government?

Well, Mr. President, I'm sure this whole thing will (if you'll pardon the phrase) blow over soon. In the meantime, [fanfare again: ] National Security or not, you might just want to consider opening a dialog with your constituents. Might save you some trouble later on.

Sheesh.

#240 - Of Relative Morality and Michael Morales

So let's make sure we all have our priorities screwed on tightly, shall we?

Michael Morales was scheduled to die by lethal injection at San Quentin prison this past Tuesday. He was convicted of an extremely brutal torture killing and has been on Death Row for twenty five years, if I have the basic facts correct. At the last minute, Morales' lawyers were able to push a "cruel and unusual" defense in front of the courts by claiming that the California lethal injection process does not guarantee that the prisoner is completely unconscious when the "cocktail" is administered. Most unfortunately, a federal judge agreed and the whole thing has now been postponed "indefinitely."

Oh, we tried. We really did. We (being the state) agreed to bring in two anaesthesiologists to ensure that poor Mr. Morales was completely knocked out before we killed him. Sure, he may have been guilty of a heinous crime that will affect the family and neighbors of the victim for years to come, but that's no reason why we shouldn't respect his right to die with dignity. Irony is never pretty.

Then, before that attempt to turn Mr. Morales into worm chow could take place, the anaesthesiologists refused to participate, claiming that such work would violate their ethical adherence to the Hippocratic Oath. (As one family member of the victim put it this morning: the "hippocratical oath." I'm not altogether certain that was a malaprop.) The family and, indeed, the entire community of Lodi are furious and hurt by this nonsensical legal posturing. The local talking-head news radio station here in Los Angeles interviewed one of the lawyers for Tookie Williams. He went so far as to claim that Morales' attornies performed a "rather brilliant piece of lawyering, and should be commended." I think I stepped in a piece of lawyering like that a while back, and had to throw those shoes away.

As infuriating as this spectacle is, I read this morning (H/T: Fetching Jen) of an even more ironic coincidence that took place in New Orleans subsequent to Hurricane Katrina. There are allegations that doctors - no doubt out of concern that their patients would "suffer needlessly" - euthanized some patients in the immediate aftermath of the hurricane. None of this is by any means official, of course, and the information is still sketchy. National Public Radio is on the case and says the details of the investigation thus far are pretty harrowing. Some doctors, apparently, fled the hospital rather than go through with it. But it still may have happened.

So this got me to thinking. Since we seem to have suddenly become squeamish about making Saint Victim Morales the latest to suffer far less than his own victim, why not work out a barter arrangement with the staff of Memorial Medical Center in New Orleans? We send them our highly ethical anaethesiologists to prevent the euthanizing of patients whose most violent acts probably related to toe-nail clippers, and they send us their Kevorkian specialists to help us take care of Morales.

Then sit me down and explain to me why ours seems to be the screwiest society on the face of the earth.

#239 - That Pesky Government Changed the Calendar Again! (UPDATED)

It's Tax Season here in the Untied States. Admittedly, I am one of few who actually look forward to this time of year because it's my opportunity to ask Uncle Sam to give me back the money he's been so carefully safeguarding throughout this past year. I always wonder whether I should charge interest, but, darn it, I just can't bring myself to ask. He's so doggone likeable, and I'm sure that if I asked he'd even be willing to put me up for a few weeks' visit to his chateau at Guantanamo. I hear his staff's to die for.

Anyway, we e-filed again this year, and were notified by the bank that processes e-filed refunds that they expected our refund to arrive on the 24th of this month. The state, of course, being completely intimidated by a naturalized Austrian who keeps flexing his muscles in a threatening way, funded us a week ago.

So, since I wasn't expecting to hear anything before tomorrow, imagine my surprise to receive an email from the receiving bank this morning. At 12:30 in the morning. I, you may understand, was not awake when this email arrived.

Anyway, the second paragraph of this email reads:

We expected to receive your IRS refund on 02/24/2006. Since we only receive IRS deposits once a week, the next opportunity for us to receive your refund is one week past the expected funding date shown above. We will not have any additional information until that time.

I always appreciate an opportunity to communicate with members of the third oldest profession, especially when they give me a link in their email, and a Super Secret Code Reference Number known only to me, them, and every junior grade hacker in ninety seven countries including Easter Island. Herewith find my response (yes, I actually sent it):

Dear Sirs,

I appreciate your prompt notification of the delay in receiving our refund. I am gratified to note that the banking industry is definitely keeping pace with the latest technological advances. It is particularly noteworthy to see that you have somehow developed the ability to see at least twenty four hours into the future to determine that you already have missed receipt of a refund that wasn't scheduled to be received until tomorrow (assuming we're using the same calendar).

I applaud the industry for developing this ability that used to be limited to quack psychics and the federal government. I always find tax season to be particularly amusing, and you have helped to further propagate this tradition.

Sincerely,

Another Satisfied Customer

I'll let you know how the service is at my hotel in Guantanamo.

UPDATE: Well, this explains the technology...

Sir,

The IRS notifies us on Tuesday or Wednesday, which refunds they will actually be funding for the week. This is how we know that your money will either be available or not available. The IRS had advised us on Wednesday that they had funded all the refunds for the week. Your refund was not included. This is why you received an e-mail advising you that your refund was delayed by the IRS.
However, the IRS made a second deposit on Thursday morning, this after they had advised us your refund would not be available for this week. Your refund was in that second deposit and we are sending your refund to you, minus the fees via direct deposit. Expect your refund in your account within 1-2 business days.

So, they don't really have a time machine in the banking industry. Oh, well. Perhaps now they can focus on getting a sense of humor inste...

Nah. Some dreams are just too far-fetched.

We needed a new post.

Anyone else tired of seeing the same old post every time you log in?

Yeah.

Me, too.

So.

How 'bout that Superbowl?

Uhh . . . lessee . . . content. Need content.

Hm.

AH!

FEAR vs. DOOM 3!

FEAR, man. Absolutely. FEAR had me jumping in actual fear where Doom 3 merely had me cursing in annoyance and yawning in boredom.

[pause]

Eh. I got nuthin'.

Woody's Lament:

Dude! A little warning, next time? I think I broke my nose on the keyboard when I fell asleep.

DNA and the Book of Mormon

I, for one, can't wait to read the transcript of Hugh's interview with the author what sounds like the LA Times' latest inability to understand what "Mormon" doctrine actually encompasses. It is, sadly, a surprise to some Mormons who have only given it casual thought to realize that the Book of Mormon does not anywhere claim to be THE history of ALL the Americas. I myself am quite impressed with John L. Sorenson's studies and many defenses of said studies on the subject (he keeps Book of Mormon history limited to a small portion of Central America), and unless something better comes along, I'll subscribe to it quite happily - just not as official doctrine.

It may seem like a weird topic for Hugh to cover, but

[1] Hugh has a sizeable Mormon audience,

[2] Remember that Hugh was a friend of the late, great Elder Maxwell (get a copy of Hewitt's "Searching for God in America" if you can find one), and,

[3] I've always enjoyed Hugh's takedown of mainstream media's snide anti-Mormonism during the Utah Winter Olympics.

Wish I'd heard it, but ah wuz workin'.

Woody's Two Cents:

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Truly nothing new under the sun, it seems: Mr. Lobdell trots out the same old tired arguments, clothed in relatively new "controversies." Speaking personally, my faith hasn't been this shaken since I discovered that I had to develop my own testimony instead of relying on Mom's.

Also, the idea that interviewing a few disaffected former members constitutes a major shakeup of our faith is ludricous. As I recall, reports of the demise of the Episcopal church over the election of gay bishops have been premature, too. (Mine among them.)

Oh, and I always enjoy the need to get "expert" opinions from those who study religion in general, but have absolutely no idea what our church really represents. Or why.

Time to get a real job, Mr. Lobdell. You've run out of fresh material.

Final note from CCWBASS:

Eh. Gotta agree with Woody: that was dullsville.

But it was also annoying. Lobdell's whole story depends on this statement being true:

And the traditional interpretation was that they populated the entire North, Central and South American continents.

Oh, what strawmen can be fashioned from the phrase "traditional interpretation" . . .

And this sentence really bugs me:

And so they're slowly, they slowly appear to be shifting from the American...all the natives of the Americas were descendents of this Hebrew tribe to this fresher interpretation.

Slowly? The limited geography theory (John Sorenson's work, essentially) has been king o' the mountain since the early 80's. The shift - however one defines it - happened. It is not happening. It is old news. It was old news 20 years before Lobdell wrote the story.

I demand we get a new shill, as Lobdell has clearly forgotten how to please our masters: The Sacred Council of Four of the Great Alkali Plain! Onward, Merona!

No . . . wait. Sorry 'bout that, folks. I'm kind of reaching a point where I find it more and more difficult to differentiate between sloppy journalism and A. Conan Doyle's "A Study in Scarlet," hence, the confusion.

Won't happen again (this morning), I assure you. ;)

#238 - When Is It a Good Thing...

...to not get a lot of attention in the blogosphere?

When you might otherwise become the target of yet another Jihad.

Yeesh.

I'm still looking for a lucid discussion of why this so-called "cycle of violence" is all because we as a nation have responded to the 9/11 attacks. Have the "cycle" apologists completely forgotten that we were targeted long before 9/11 ever happened? Do they dismiss all evidences that the violence will continue whether we appease al-Qaeda or not?

We could withdraw completely from Iraq and Afghanistan tomorrow, close our borders and never leave home again, and the terrorists would still target our nation because we are capitalist infidels and therefore must die.

It's really as simple as that, but only to those who pay attention to history.

Your Cranky Review: Barry Manilow - Contrast & Compare

No, I didn't purchase Manilow's best-selling album, but I have been listening to it at work, and I've heard, if I may be so bold as to suggest such a thing, enough.

First, please allow me to offer a comparison in the form of one Jim Nabors.

COMPARISON

Didja ever listen closely to the way Nabors sings? Oh, not the way he hits his pitches and holds notes, but rather the way he forms words when he sings? I mean, listen real close when you get a chance. None of you? Well, great. Let's approach this from another angle.

Didja ever listen to some guy with a broad Bronx accent say the word "Way," or even "Why"?

If one were to record the speaking of said word and then play it back really, really slowly, the word word break down something like this:

"oooooooWWWWWWWaaaaiiiiiiii." It would sound the same for either word, and you know it. When you really start listening to the "oooooooWWWWWWW" closely enough, you discover that this way of speaking isn't limited to word that begin with "W," but, rather, the mouth forms that unfortunate consonant+vowel combination FOR EVERY WORD! It's as if the speaker's mouth is permanently puckered.

THAT's the accent I'm talking about, and Jim Nabors sings like that on almost track I've ever heard. It's just the weirdest darn thing, don't ya think?

Anyway, as I was listening to Barry Manilow, I thought, "You now, Manilow has more than a touch of Jim Nabors in his voice."

CONTRAST

That being said, however, I must say that in contrast to the horrific histrionics that makes such a mockery of music on every track of an Il Divo record, Manilow sounds by-gosh excellent.

Taken in its own, it ain't a bad record, save that I'm highly sensitive to the way Manilow sometimes forms his words when he sings, but that's a miniscule complaint, and I'm probably one of only a few cranky jerks who'd notice such a thing.

Overall, Manilow's record is harmless. Two stars, or whatever.

This is your Cranky Reviewer, signing off.

#237 - Headaches of Olympic Proportion (UPDATED)

So the Olympics are upon us once again. I tend to enjoy the winter games more than the summer variety for a number of reasons: the pace is quicker, I love snow and ice, and I can't wait to see who's gonna get wiped out in Short Track.

Unfortunately, with the return of the Olympics we also herald the return of Olympic advertising.

Olympic advertising is somewhat akin to Super Bowl advertising, but with more emphasis on international diversity and less on beer. Not that this is a bad thing. It used to be that the Olympics engendered a somewhat higher class of advertising than you might otherwise see during, say, the World Series. But no longer. Now they just seem to throw out their latest advertising campaigns to coincide with the Opening Ceremony, then bombard us with the same doggone commercials every 5 to 10 minutes. (NBC officials may wish to disagree with me. They may think that they're providing much more coverage than I am crediting them. My feeling is that when they quote "coverage" times, they should exclude all the face time that Costas, Lampley, and Jimmy Whatsisname who does the "Olympic Moments" nonsense receive. In fact, I invite NBC officials to come to my house. I will help them understand the frustration.)

I finally figured it out, though. There is, in fact, an unannounced competition between the advertisers that actually amounts to its own version of the Olympics. Not the Clio Awards, of course. No self-respecting Clio entry would be caught dead being shown during a sporting event. At least, not based on what I've seen so far. No, this is a quiet competition; a secret competition, you might say. But I think I've cracked the code.

Advertisers during the Olympics compete in events that somewhat correlate to the games themselves. For example, for sheer melodrama, you can't beat Figure Skating. Especially the way that NBC hypes it. For the advertisers, the corollary might be the "Heartstring Skating" event which would include every commercial by Kays Jewelers. I mean, come on... they're even recycling stuff from two Olympics ago!

Olympic branding is not, I realize, an "event," but it plays a prestigious role in the identity of each Olympiad. In the equally prestigious "Branding While on Acid" category we have Budweiser. Now, I don't drink beer. Never have, never will. But can someone explain to me how they came up with this stylized crown concept if it didn't involve powerful hallucinogenics? If Budweiser takes gold in this event, then the silver must belong to E-bay and the whole "it" concept. I have long since reached the point where I not only don't care what "it" might be, but I'm ready to tell E-bay precisely what they can do with "it."

The problem with Budweiser is that they also score well in a category that I call "Commercials that Make Me Laugh, Even Though I Shouldn't." I'm referring here to the Bud Lite "Magic Fridge" campaign. That one gets me every time. I also tend to chuckle every time "curling" is mentioned. It's just a gut-level reaction.

In the relatively new "Lower Class Than Super Bowl Advertising" event, CashCall is a strong finisher. "Ch-chiiiing." Need I say more? (At least we've been spared Gary Coleman in these ads. If we had to deal with that, I'm not altogether certain there's a category invented that would be appropo to the punishment CashCall would deserve.) This would be the Half-Pipe competition of advertising.

(Side note here: The overall design of the US Olympic Team's uniforms is fine, if decidedly unspectacular this go 'round. I really liked the Salt Lake look much better. But what's with those X-game outfits? Is it just me, or did anyone else look at Shaun White and think "penitentiary chic?" I suppose it could have been done on purpose, but why not just send them to the same outfitters our local gangs use? Probably be cheaper.)

In the "Eponymous Like Oprah" event, Bode Miller streaks to gold with "bode.com." This, I suppose, is an attempt to explain Bode Miller. Like any web site could possibly do that. What's next? "BM Magazine?" Yeesh. If this event were compared to Bode's downhill event, Bode would reach the bottom much faster than he did during his actual ski run.

Ah, well. The Games continue, and so will the advertising. Unfortunately. In fact, while the Games themselves will pass into memory, it appears that some of these commercials will be with us for another few presidential administrations at least. Hey, if I'd just spent $730,000 for 30 seconds of air time, I'd wanna get air time. In the meantime, feel free to comment with your favorite (or, really, most hated) Olympic commercials. Just be sure to tell me in which "events" your entries are running. If I get a few responses, I'll do a round-up after the Games are over.

Gotta go. Jelly Woodyette is waiting for me to take her to skating and skiing classes. I may have to get a few sponsors. I wonder who "bode.com" is sponsoring these days...?

UPDATE: It's early in these games yet, but examples of bad sportsmanship are bound to appear 'ere long. I look to Hockey to fill this gap. I mean, any sport that features angry people waving sticks at each other is either bad sportsmanship waiting to happen, or war. Or both. Anyway, whoever designed the "My Fast" campaign for Volkwagen deserves a special place in advertising hell. Apparently, owning a Volkswagen GTI is just another excuse for divorce court. Also, you can break the law with impunity if the cop has his own Fast in the squad car. That's Volkswagen's stand. Are you in good hands?

Speaking of which, could Allstate possibly have found someone more sincerely pompous sounding to tell us precisely what their stand is? Hey, do they really think this guy's attitude is gonna make me toss my nice, relatively cheap insurance in favor of Allstate? I'm beginning to look at Allstate as the Jim Lampley of the advertising biz.

#236 - I Love the Smell of CARP in the Morning!

Like most fish, carp have a horrific smell when they die and begin decomposing. Dad and I buried a small dogfish shark out in the backyard one day 35 years ago after a fishing expedition, and the smell lingers over the western edge of Simi Valley to this day.

So when we hear from BoifromTroy (via California Mafia) that the California Republican Party (or CARP, if you will) is refusing to issue press credentials for their upcoming convention except to only a couple of California-based bloggers, you can imagine the smell.

I am not personally interested in attending such a convention. I have long been of the opinion that the state-wide parties and their affiliates are only exceeded in their sloth and ineptitude by their national counterparts. And that's saying something. The state Party elite, however, have not learned the lessons of the last general election. Bloggers are a force to be reckoned with, and not lightly.

As KG over at the Mafia states, "Republicans don’t seem interested in running effective campaigns - let alone winning."

Too true.

Our races for U. S. Senator are case in point. If the state GOP were serious about taking the office away from the Liberal Sisters, they would have fronted serious candidates, and even helped them campaign, for Pete's sake. Instead, they throw their "backing" to some unknown white guy, and apparently spend their entire war chest on making sure that he stays unknown. Less collateral damage that way, I suppose. I mean, I voted for the guy, but heck if I remember what his name was. Bill Somethingorother, I think.

So, election season is upon us and, once again, the state "Party" has not a clue how to convince us to vote. Except, probably, to call my house and beg for money. This appears to be the Party's core competency. Once again, when called I will state, "I'll send you guys money when you do a better job with the money you already have." They have no response to that kind of circular logic, but it works for me.

Thus the tenor (so to speak) of my posts this election year will probably be along the lines of haranguing the Party for their inability to find and run a viable candidate who actually has a chance of winning the state. Schwarzenegger got in on an anti-Davis backlash, so he's not a shoe-in this time around. We have a golden opportunity to unseat Feinstein, but I doubt we'll find someone who can convince the liberal Coasties otherwise. In short, the only elected Republicans this state can count on are probably in those places where Republicans tend to win, like Orange County and parts of Ventura.

In the meantime, I need to go bury another fish. I miss the smell.

#235 - Because Revolutions Take Time and We Are Impatient

I called my Mom the other night. It used to be that when I'd call my mother at home I generally had to go through the Debby Filter®. My sister was living with Mom and kept the phone within reach pretty much full time. Now that Mom is married and living in Texas, however, I have to go through the Evil Woody Step-Dad. (Just kidding, Bob! Really!)

We can tease about having an evil step-dad because Bob is about as nice a guy as you'd ever want to meet. He even reads my blogs, so exactly how evil could this guy be? Unless, of course, he's planning some sort of extortion later on... Hm. Must ponder this disturbing development further.

Anyway, Bob answered the phone the other night. He point-blank refused to let me speak with my mother (the nerve!) until he'd shared with me his Burning Opinion of Bush's 2006 State of the Union address.

"Don't you think, " he asked, "that Bush's comment that we need to depend less on foreign oil comes across as 'too little, too late?'"

Yes, I admitted, he certainly seems to be entering this fray a tad late.

"Well," continued the Evil Woody Step-Dad, "I think there might be a blog in there somewhere."

Point taken. Then he let me talk to Mom. (Side note of no real interest except to my siblings: Wanna know how to make Mom blush? Just mention, when she says she was ready to jump on Bob's chest to make him give her the phone, that she can jump on his chest anyway. I swear I heard her blush.)

So: Dependence on Foreign Oil. My mind immediately jumped to a report I'd heard just a few days earlier about some hydrogen fuel cell vehicles that were being test driven around Los Angeles. Fuel cell vehicles are - for a number of reasons - the most obvious approach I can think of for eliminating our dependence on OPEC and the Dynasty of Imperialistic US Oil Interests.

The idea is to take a technology that was used extensively in the American space program - hydrogen fuel cells - and make it available to power the vehicles that we drive every day. (I read, in fact, that the invention of fuel cells actually occured in the 19th century. Go figure.) On the plus side, the by-product of a hydrogen fuel cell is water. Water would, of course, merely evaporate - sorta like my tax refunds every year - and are about the most environment-friendly fuel source imaginable. Also, every major car manufacturer has some sort of fuel cell vehicle under development. The down side includes the ludricous cost of the technology, and the equally ludicrous cost of the fuel itself.

The processing of hydrogen for fuel cells makes the cost of that fuel the equivalent of $20 to $30 dollars a gallon when compared to gasoline, according to one report. Add to that the fact that fueling stations are rare, and you see that we just don't have the infrastructure in place yet to support wide-spread use of fuel cell vehicles. California, in fact, is the only state I know of to have an active interest in building hydrogen fueling stations. But even when Schwarzenegger is done with his current wish list, there will be a total of 13 (count 'em! 13!) fuel stations across the state. Big whoopin' deal.

Of course, it's easy to fret now. Chrysler just delivered 5 test vehicles to Los Angeles World Airports (keepers of LAX) to be tested over the next two to three years. Technology Proof vehicles, we'd call them. This will help the company see how the vehicles age with "normal" use and help them further refine the technology. Also, the cars cost $1 million each to build. (Really? One million, you say? Huh.) So the probability of seeing fuel cell cars at a dealer's lot in the next 10 years or so is slim.

But...

If the computer industry has taught us anything it's that, once something has caught on, prices will drop. Within the next twenty years, who's to say that the vehicles won't be available for less than $50,000 while the price of fuel drops to under $5? By then we can imagine that between government incentive programs and the honest greed of corporate America, we might begin to see hydrogen fueling stations popping up all over the country. (You just know that we'll begin to see the hydrogen equivalent of Yugos breaking down on freeways all over Los Angeles. That will be one of the signs of the Apocalypse.)

In the meantime, there are alternatives to consider. BMW, for example, is producing an engine that will run on either gasoline or hydrogen. It's basically just a combustion engine that will burn either fuel. Of course, the act of burning hydrogen means that there would be some pollution. But those pollution levels would be, according to BMW, far below even California's tough emission standards.

Battery-powered vehicles are another option. The technology has grown tremendously in the last few years. One of my best friends works for a company that produces the Tango, a battery vehicle that has potential to become the commuter vehicle of choice in the near future. It's about the size of a smallish golf cart, is highway rated, and can park in impossibly small spaces. The problem? It still costs about $80,000 to own one because they can't get investors to recognize the potential for mass producing such a vehicle. Hey! Mr. Investor! I'm a regular middle income guy, and I would buy one of these! Really! (How'd I do, LaVar?)

The hybrids already in production are nice, but just a stop-gap when you think about it. They are meant to reduce (not eliminate) emissions and be much easier on your personal economy. As a help to the environment, however, their impact will be minimal at best.

So, yes, President Bush's statement might be perceived as too little, too late. On the other hand, maybe - just maybe - Congress will finally get the message and start to ignore the Oil Dynasty's protestations. Will we ever be completely free from our dependence on oil? No. Not given our current infrastructure. But we can start, and if the Government gives it a big enough push, we really can pull it off. Oil will still be useful to our economy. It figures heavily, if memory serves, in the production of plastics. I don't see that disappearing any time soon. But if we can stop burning the stuff to get to work every day, we will have achieved a tremendous victory.

France may even start liking us again.

Or, maybe not. One can never tell, with the French.

#234 - Dave Barry Suicide Watch

This could send Dave over the edge.

Heh.

#233 - Home(land) Security

(Note: I struggled over whether this was more appropriate for the Woundup or the Inner Dad. I finally decided that this was important enough to cross-post on both. Another first for Woody.)

So what do the Patriot Act and your own house rules for kids and internet access have in common? Hopefully, more than you might expect.

This morning during the commute I was tuned to our local news blatherers, hoping for some sort of update on the fire situation here. (For the record, the so-called "Sierra" fire is growing, but seems to be staying on the unpopulated side of the freeway for now. A couple of hot spots flared overnight, but firefighters beat them down quickly and the evacuated areas are still relatively unaffected.) One of the things the talking heads have been salivating over for the past few days is the sting operation recently undertaken to catch sexual predators as they tried to rendevous with kids they thought they were meeting over the internet.

Aside from a minor discussion regarding whether or not this constituted "entrapment," (it didn't, according to the folks who sponsored the operation) I was once again struck by the need for people to state the obvious: kids cannot be allowed to freely wander the internet in today's society. And it has nothing to do with any federal, state, or local statutes that may be on the books. It has everything to do with parents protecting their children by enforcing stricter controls over their access privileges.

I've had this discussion before; most recently in a couple of lessons at church. One of the most obvious ways to enforce appropriate access to internet resources is for that access to be strictly supervised by the parents. Liberal (sorry... the word works here) use of parental control software would be considered a bare minimum. The suggestion I liked best was having all computers out in open traffic areas, where there is no expectation of privacy. I understand that some folks get a little queasy about invading their teenagers' rights to privately communicate with friends, but the internet is precisely where that privacy often gets those kids into trouble. Trouble they are ill equipped to handle. Far better to encourage open communication at this stage of life, rather than risk having them stalked by predators who may end their childhoods (if not their lives) prematurely.

In fact, this is where this sort of policing is not unlike the Patriot Act. It has its fans, to be sure, but I can't think of anyone who enjoys the need for the Act. I'm sure we'd all like to be back in our relatively safe and secure pre-9/11 world. I can't think of anyone (excepting perhaps the FBI and other law enforcement types) who really wishes we could have regular wire tapping all the time. But the reality is that we are (as the White House is suddenly fond of reminding us) a nation at war, and war is a mitigating circumstance. We would love nothing better than to trust everyone living within our borders, but we simply can't. We need vigilance, and the Patriot Act allows a higher degree of vigilance than we might normally have.

Likewise, we are also a society at war. The enemy, for purposes of this discussion, is everyone "out there" who feels that their sexual appetites make our children legitimate targets. And one of the larger battlegrounds is no farther away than your computer. There is no "safe" age at which a child may have unrestricted, unsupervised access to that battleground. Even with all the legitimate uses for which the internet was created, the margins of safety are too slim to allow kids to use it with impunity.

Does this sound overly restrictive? Perhaps. In fact, yes, I admit it, I plan on being just that restrictive where my girls are concerned. They are far too precious to me to not take every precaution I reasonably can. Mrs. Woody and I have a deeply vested interest in both their upbringing and their safety. They will simply grow up to understand that there are, in fact, secure ways to communicate with friends. They will understand that, unless some major changes occur between now and "then," the internet is not one of them. I sure wish this were 40 years ago when such things were virtually unknown, but it's not. I wish I could trust even my closest neighbors with my precious daughters, but, with few exceptions, I can't. Not yet, anyway.

Do I have a solution? Well, for as long as the technology exists, a phone call and the price of a stamp still work for me. For pretty much everything else, Dad plans to butt in. There is, after all, no expiration date for my Patriot Act - Home Edition.

Okay - THIS is my last Islam post for a while . . .

Hugh Hewitt says:

The debate begins with these questions: Are we at war with Islam? Do you want a war with Islam?

My answers and the answers of any sensible person ought to be "no," and "no." I'd like to see blogggers who are opining on the caroons answer these questions up front.

Fair enough. My own answers are: "I think so," and "no, I don't, at least in one sense, but in another sense, yes." Oof. This'll take some explaining.

The famailiar tropes, which I wish I could believe, are:

[1] Islam is being hijacked by a radical minority.

[2] The real Islam is a religion of peace.

[3] "Jihad" is primarily a spiritual movement, and only falsely interpreted as a bloody, physical one by said radicals.

Sounds great, except it's not true. Historically, Islam's birth and expansion was bloody. Jihad is officially warlike, and I use the word "officially" carefully. Courtesy of Andrew G. Bostom's "The Legacy of Jihad" (p. 28) comes this little passage from Bat Ye'or that offers what Bostom calls the "thematic structure" of modern pro-Islam apologetics:

Historical negationsim consisting of suppressing or sketching in a page or a paragraph, one thousand years of jihad which is presented as peaceful conquest, generally welcomed by vanquished populations; the omission of Christian and, in particular, Muslim sources describing the actual methods of these conquests: pillage, enslavement, deportation, massacres, and so on; the mythical historical conversion of "centuries" of "peaceful coexistence," masking the processes which transformed majorities into minorities, constantly at risk of extinction; an obligatory self-incrimination for the crusades.

Now, I realize that I am as far from being an authority on Things Islam as a person can be, and that my opinions are only the tiniest bit informed, but what little I do know leads me to understand that, ultimately, that larger portion of modern Islam which more or less comfortably subscribes to the three "tropes" I mentioned above is no more the "real" Islam than the spiritually dead and almost-completely empty protestant churches of Europe are the "real" Christian faith that Jesus founded.

In other words, the radicals ain't radical - they're the real historical deal, even if they are more or less in the minority.

For the bloody jihadists, centuries of Islamic thought and the imposition and codification of dhimmitude is on their side. The real radicals, historically speaking, are the ones who won't chop a head or two off to spread the kingdom of Allah.

The sad thing is that if we do reach a point where we get Islam to stop freaking out over things like political cartoons lampooning Muhammad, we'll have reached a point where a billion people have lost something of their faith.

The real issue is, what have we to offer them to fill the vacuum that the failure of jihad will create?

The question is ALWAYS a religious one, isn't it?

#232 - What Makes It So Super?

(H/T: Michelle Malkin)

I haven't voluntarily watched a Super Bowl for more than a dozen years. Probably longer than that, but I can definitely vouch for the dozen. In reality, I haven't really followed any pro sports since my before my first marriage. I just got tired of watching people who make millions of dollars get arrested every other week for (pick your favorite vice) drugs, solicitation, domestic violence, steroids (don't forget lying to Congress about that one), and so on. The mystique is just gone.

Even with that, I would try to sneak in an occasional Super Bowl, if my church schedule permitted it. Once I even set up a TV in the garage so I wouldn't bother my then-wife with the game. But now that the Super Bowl is less about football, and more about the hype, the commercials, and the half-time show, there simply is no reason to get excited about the event.

This morning I'm watching the local news. I'm doing this because there's a brush fire uncomfortably close to my house and we have "red flag" conditions. Dry weather, high winds. Nature's Molotov cocktail. The local morning news shows are the worst collection of vapid pseudocelebs you can possibly imagine. Their only redeeming qualities are that they occasionally get around to reporting on newsworthy events. "Coming up; we'll have a look at more of those Super Bowl commercials, a peek at the latest exhibit of movie costumes that you won't want to miss, a discussion of whether Steve's hair is real or implanted, and, oh, yeah, some fire or other out by your house. Stay tuned."

So, I had to watch a few segments about the Super Bowl commercials in order to get to my fire ("No homes are threatened yet but don't get comfortable"). I now have a whole new list of advertisers that I will personally boycott, and will probably have to visit with my Bishop because I feel dirty. Especially after the Ameriquest commercial. Thanks, guys.

So with all the millions of dollars filling the producers' coffers - what with all the commercials, the Rolling Stoneds, and a bad gospel arrangement of the national anthem - you might think that they would take advantage of a national event to pay at least some small tribute to our troops.

You would be, no offense, an idiot.

Supporting the troops in the entertainment industry (yes, professional sports are just another division of the entertainment industry) has become bad mojo. Why, if we dared to support the troops on national television we would be sending the message that a) the troops are doing something dangerous and life threatening so that we can continue to enjoy our freedom to play a silly game for far more money than any of us normal people will ever see in eight lifetimes and they deserve our appreciation, and b) we might somehow offend a portion of our viewing audience who will make next year's Super Bowl even less viewed than this year's, if you can imagine.

Well, I'd tell you that I, personally, plan to boycott all future Super Bowls, but in my case that would be incredibly redundant. I can, however, suggest a new reality show for the producers of the Super Bowl. In fact, it would be a show about the producers, who are each sent to Iraq as embeds with our troops in desert combat situations. They can only leave the country when they convince the troops that football is more important than building democracy in the Middle East.

That oughta take care of the Super Bowl for another year or so.

. . . aaaaaaaaand . . .

. . . now they've torched a Danish mission.

It seems to be following a pattern similar to the October/November riots last year in France.

I suppose the Imams will just keep moving down the European foodchain until they finally get what they want.

#231 - A Little Enlargement

(from a blogger who's already over-enlarged)

CCWBASS, my esteemed brother, brings up an interesting conflict regarding the whole Danish Anti-Muhammed Cartoon nonsense. It's easy to see where we might want to, alternately, praise the cartoonist for having the courage of his convictions, yet understand why the Islamic world at large might be justifiably offended by the intended slight.

I commented that my considered response to this issue is to ignore. I said that from the perspective of one who has had to endure a fair amount of ridicule over the years regarding my beliefs and the impugned reputation of an entire church because of the actions of a few in our past. I have always held such ridicule to be incredibly unfair, but have learned over the years to ignore such things. I place all such criticisms under the heading of "casting pearls before swine," and have emotionally resolved to allow the swine the full run of their mistaken notions.

Entire groups of peope cannot always do that.

Let's review here: A militant sub-group of a religion that labels itself the "religion of peace" has espoused a culture of terror whose stated goal is nothing short of the eradication of all infidels. These "enemies of Islam" must not be allowed to exist, and the hated Jews are at the top of that list, followed closely by Americans.

Yet the entire world of Islam is not like that. Many of them - let's call them true Islamists - recognize that there are common roots between Muslims, Jews, and Christians that date back to Abraham. These people are (rightly, in my mind) offended by such cartoons.

The problem here is the incendiary nature of the terrorist sub-culture. No matter how dearly we may hold the right of free speech, we simply cannot regulate how others will react to that speech. So, for example, when we use our right to free speech ("blog free, or die") to voice our opinion that terrorists are a six pack in desperate search of the plastic thingy that holds it together, we should not be surprised when we start receiving fatwas. No matter what our liberal friends would have us believe, no amount of "civil" dialogue will soon overcome centuries of hatred embedded in that sub-culture. Other Islamists - those true ones - already get it. The rest will not, I fear, understand this principle until they blow themselves straight to Allah, only to be gently told, "That wasn't what I meant."

We should never fear to express opinions when we feel (or know) something to be correct or true. But expression for the sake of incitement, I submit, will never be a "protected" right so long as the recipients exercise their perceived right to react violently.

Let's use at least a little common sense, shall we?

There Ain't No Good Guys In This Fight, Folks (UPDATED)

So, a Danish newspaper printed cartoons that were offensive to Muslims; indeed, they were designed to be so.

Radical Islam responded in its usual way, which is to say it went absolutely nuts (from my Western, non-Islamic perspective) and got probably more worked up than when Salman Rushdie came out with "Satanic Verses."

Non-muslims, getting sick and tired of radical Islam's remarkably thin skin, reacted by holding up the cartoonists as heroes, somehow, of free speech.

And Hugh Hewitt, and God bless the man for trying, tried to calm the angry non-Muslim side of the aisle down with some wise words of counsel.

Only it didn't seem to work. Listening to Hugh's show this afternoon, the vast majority of his callers who opined on the cartoon kerfluffle did not frankly agree with Hugh's take on this one.

It all sounded very, very familiar to me, and then I remembered an old essay of Orson Scott Card's wherein he took the same stance in regards to Rushdie's "Satanic Verses" that Hugh is taking in the cartoonist situation.

The situation back then went something like this:

Rushdie publishes "The Satanic Verses," which is offensive to Muslims; indeed, it is designed to be.

Radical Islam - even not terribly-radical Islam - issues a fatwa against Rushdie.

The "literary community" (however one wants to define it) holds Rushdie up as a poster boy for free speech etc etc.

Card writes an essay in which he says, "Yeah, Islam's response to Rushdie is horrible and wrong, and, yeah, free speech is vital; but for God's sake, people: Rushdie's book was overt, thoroughly ugly attack on Islam and Muhammad. You're arguing for a good thing, but you're using the worst possible man as an example of what needs to be protected."

Card didn't get any slack, either. People STILL hate him for not defending Rushdie like he was supposed to, being a writer and all.

I don't know why I'm bringing this up other than to suggest to Hugh that if things seem a little different this time around it's in this way: Back in '89, Islam's fatwa against Rushdie scared the you-know-what out of just about everybody in the western world. I mean, we knew the Middle East was nuts, but we didn't really believe that Muslims could just up and openly - like they were proud of it or something - put a price on a writer's head.

These days, with the exception of those in Denmark who are on the receiving end of Islam's latest collective freak out, there is far, far less fear, and waaaaaaaay more anger, like the world is finally getting tired of having to deal with the bullies in the back of the room over and over and over again.

I'm not sure where I stand here, either, but do I agree with a point Hugh made today to one caller, which is that we have to be more decent than our enemy. As he wrote on his blog,

We rightly condemn and must continue to condemn every anti-Semitic outburst from the president of Iran and every anti-Semitic cartoon published in the hate press of the Middle East. Those condemnations lose some of their force among some of the world if we rush to defend those cartoons that can objectively be seen as anti-Muslim.

I have my own disagreements with Hugh about other things in regards to Islam, but on this point, I'm with him.

Now if I could only get the point across to Rusty at My Pet Jawa . . .

UPDATE: In regards to the anger being felt this time around, the bottom of this post serves as a wonderful example, but also makes me waffle.

That is, I agree both with Junkyardblog and Hugh Hewitt. I tell myself that, on general principle, we need to be more decent than our enemy. But then I can't help but start thinking that the enemy includes more of Islam than Hugh seems to think, and being more decent only facilitates them.

I mean, sure, it seems like a decent thing to do, to say that we're not fighting Islam but merely a small, radical faction of Islam, but when the afore-mentioned decent statement is uttered in the context of Islam's actual long and extremely bloody history, it becomes - to be polite, here - open to serious question.

And, like Junkyardblog, I'm really, really tired of Islam's temper tantrums in general.

In other words, it ain't radical Islam driving this one, Hugh: It's Islam, period.

But . . . dang it . . . I guess we still need to take the high road, here.

I hate being all conflicted. I'm going to bed.

UPDATE: Timely advice here, which I shall try to take to heart. Hugh's link to Steyn seems particularly cogent this morning, as Steyn has written:

Speaking of which, if we are at war--and half the American people and significantly higher percentages in Britain, Canada and Europe don't accept that proposition--then what exactly is the war about?

We know it's not really a "war on terror." Nor is it, at heart, a war against Islam, or even "radical Islam." The Muslim faith, whatever its merits for the believers, is a problematic business for the rest of us. There are many trouble spots around the world, but as a general rule, it's easy to make an educated guess at one of the participants: Muslims vs. Jews in "Palestine," Muslims vs. Hindus in Kashmir, Muslims vs. Christians in Africa, Muslims vs. Buddhists in Thailand, Muslims vs. Russians in the Caucasus, Muslims vs. backpacking tourists in Bali. Like the environmentalists, these guys think globally but act locally.

Yet while Islamism is the enemy, it's not what this thing's about. Radical Islam is an opportunistic infection, like AIDS: It's not the HIV that kills you, it's the pneumonia you get when your body's too weak to fight it off. When the jihadists engage with the U.S. military, they lose--as they did in Afghanistan and Iraq. If this were like World War I with those fellows in one trench and us in ours facing them over some boggy piece of terrain, it would be over very quickly. Which the smarter Islamists have figured out. They know they can never win on the battlefield, but they figure there's an excellent chance they can drag things out until Western civilization collapses in on itself and Islam inherits by default.

That's what the war's about: our lack of civilizational confidence.

Food for thought, as always, from Mark Steyn.

But I've also started reading Bostom's The Legacy of Jihad, though, and it so far seems to indicate that things are not quite like Hewitt, at least, is arguing.

Anyhoo, I'm done with the subject, blog-wise, for a while. I'm going to be spending the next couple of weeks on a Civil War reading binge.

Shelby Foote finally affordable

For anyone interested in this kind of thing, Barnes & Noble has made available a budget version of Shelby Foote's three-part history of the Civil War. They are fairly nice looking hardcover editions, at only $15 a pop. Even if you don't have time to read them now, buy 'em anyway and put them on your "to-do."

I've been lusting after them for years, but didn't want to pay so much for the set. Now they're mine. MINE! HANDS OFF! GET BACK, YOU ANIMALS!

Anyway; heck of a prose-man, that Shelby. The books so far seem to read as well as he spoke on that old PBS documentary.

This is your friendly B&N bookseller, signing off.

#230 - And Your Point Is...?

This is news?

NAACP chairman compares GOP to Nazis

Pfeh. Where's he been? Demoliberals have been tossing that one around since before I was a wee bairn of a blogger. Welcome to diversity, liberal style.

(H/T: Grudge, who appears to be having a slow news night)

#229 - Oprah the Excluder?

There's a bit of a brouhaha surrounding Oprah Winfrey's essay contest for high schoolers which ends on Monday, February 6th. Specifically, there's a significant population of high school students that appear to be excluded from participation in this contest.

Now, I'm no Oprah fan. Never have been, really. I think all this eponymous empire building is just silly. Trump, although a brilliant business tycoon, is more of a caricature and P. T. Barnum showman than a dynamic leader of the corporate world. So, too, is Oprah more of a pop cultural icon than she is a mover-and-shaker of idealisms that shake the world.

Yet, I'm still puzzled by this apparent exclusion. The rules quite specifically state that participation in this essay contest is limited to legal citizens (no argument there!) who are "currently enrolled full-time (and in good standing) in a public or state-accredited private or parochial school, grades 9-12." Which would seemingly indicate that homeschooled high schoolers are students non grata.

The Home School Legal Defense Association issued an open letter a few days ago castigating La Winfrey for this egregious error. As I have skimmed the few blogs that even have this issue on their radars, I note that there is conflicting information as to the intent of the rule. At least one commenter indicated that they'd been informed that the contest was really open to "all high school students." Yet the HSLDA states that they were "rebuffed" when they asked for a change in the wording of the rule to allow homeschoolers to participate.

True to political form, the United States of Oprah seem to suffer from an overlarge bureaucracy.

I hope this was an unintentional slight. I won't, however, hold my breath worrying about it.

'Sides... the Woodyettes are still in elementary school. What's the rush?

(H/T: The ever-incredible Mrs. Woody!)

Do Political Movies Make An Impact? (UPDATED)

I'd have to say they do, which is why the older and more political I get the less patience I have for Hollywood's frankly dangerous POV.

I hate to admit this, but as I didn't become remotely politically-minded until I hit middle age, my political views , where I had them (which was almost never) were almost completely in lock-step with the political movies I watched in their TV runs in the 70s and early 80s. Not knowing any better - and this because my conversations with Dad centered exclusively on me whining about not wanting to mow the lawn - I just assumed that Hollywood movies, just like TV documentaries (sigh . . .), basically presented factual stories. Surely, they told it How It Was, I naively thought.

It took a long time for that kind of innocent political ignorance to slough off; it was mostly gone before 9/11, thank God, so it took me only, oh, roughly a split second after I turned on the TV on the morning of 9/11 to decide where I stood on many, many things.

And I even forget sometimes that I was a much more politically liberal person, and that I owed it all to swallowing without question Hollywood's politics.

I forget about the power a movie has to inform a person's woldview. It came back to me today, however, as I read Mark Steyn's review of Spielberg's latest mangling of history, Munich. This piercing critique by Steyn should tell you all need to know:

‘Humanising’ the Arabs is fine, but the film works hard at dehumanising the Jews, not just because of the thin characterisations but also through the demands of the narrative arc: the Israelis are cold loners living in the shadows coolly observing Arabs taking their little girls to music lessons in Paris or chatting affably to the local storekeeper in Rome; then the Jews move in and clinically blow them to pieces. The Arabs have fully formed lives, the Israelis don’t.

It seems a heavy accusation to make. After all, Spielberg is a Jew and did a lot for educating people about the Holocaust, didn't he? Well, sure - but Schindler's Jews were simply "Jews" and Israel didn't exist yet; Spielberg is still enough of a Hollywood twit to think that one can despise "Israel" without also despising "Jews."

But I didn't actually need Steyn to point out the film's intent, and Steyn eventually argues that the movie is not as anti-Jew as other critics say it is. But a recent experience obliges me to question Steyn's generosity: One of my barely-out-of-his-teens co-workers actually shocked me - I mean, it literally took me a few seconds to believe that I had really heard what I just heard - in the Barnes & Noble breakroom when, the day after he saw Munich, he casually said, in much the same way one would point out the color of the sky this afternoon: "Man. Those Israelis. That's just the way they are; they'll kill a hundred innocent guys just to get near one guilty guy and not even think twice about it."

Who needs Goebbels anymore when we've got Hollywood?

Anyway, read Steyn's excellent shredding of Munich. It even has the phrase "ludicrous boomer narcissism," so you get some fine dessert with your excellent meal.

UPDATE: Think I'm being a little harsh on the idiocy of Hollywood's denizens? I don't.

Say It Ain't So, Dave! (ccwbass is shocked!)

You already know my take on Peter Jackson's King Kong. Imagine my surprise to see that one of my favorite bloggers felt differently. Quoth Dave of Garfield Ridge:

Best Set Piece (Runner-Up): The Empire State Building, King Kong. I haven't gotten that misty-eyed since E.T. "died."

To which I can only respond that I've often come close to tears when trying desperately not to laugh.

I hope that was the case with Dave.

#228 Generation "E" (for "Entitlement") - UPDATED

[UPDATE: Well, gotta say one thing for them. Whatever else the E-Generation are, given the fact that I wrote this thing over two years ago, they are slow on the uptake. Some guy found this post and linked it from some forum group on Halfpixel.com. "Controversial" he called it.

Heh.

Compared with whatever Kos and his Kidlings are churning out these days, this stuff is pretty tame.

Welcome to the Woundup anyway, folks. Thanks for the mini-Blogburst!]

I understand the sociological need for labelling generations. I just don't think some of the labels we use are descriptive enough. For example, I'm a Baby Boomer. It used to be big news that people who had suffered through World War II began having babies in record numbers, and the Boom was born. In retrospect, however, I think a far more descriptive term would be "Babies Who Ultimately Created the Sixties." In my particular case, I actually belong to a subset that would be labelled "Babies Who Missed the Sixties but Got Fried During the Seventies." (Note to those who happen to be my mother: not that kind of "fried!")

I have always hated the labels of "Gen X" and "Gen Y" or "Millenials." They just don't do those generations justice. They're not descriptive enough of the social evolution of either group, nor do they help us identify anything but a chronological progression from generation to generation. So, if you asked me (realizing all the while that of course you haven't), I would have to describe this latest generation as the "Entitlement Generation," or "Gen-E."

Via Kimberly at Number Two Pencil we are pointed to this article in "Fast Company" magazine:

Beverly Hills psychiatrist's office is an unlikely triage center for the mash-up of generations in the workforce. But Dr. Charles Sophy is seeing the casualties firsthand. Last year, when a 24-year-old salesman at a car dealership didn't get his yearly bonus because of poor performance, both of his parents showed up at the company's regional headquarters and sat outside the CEO's office, refusing to leave until they got a meeting. "Security had to come and escort them out," Sophy says.

It gets worse.

The thrust of the story, actually, deals with understanding each generation as they come of age and hit the workplace. The idea is that we need to evolve our business practices and cultures in order to better integrate the new talent and thus take full advantage of what they have to offer. The only problem is, what they have to offer has little to do with what we used to term "reality."

Focusing on the scenario presented at the front of the article, we find that these young people now entering the workplace find it to be a confusing environment. Their work ethic appears to be defined by the edutainment principles of sound bites, podcasts, and text messages. If you can't communicate at that level, you can't communicate. And it's your own darned fault, too.

So it is that when a 22-year old pharmaceutical employee gets passed over for a promotion (at TWENTY-FREAKIN'-TWO??), his mother descends upon the HR department like the proverbial hawk. Seventeen times. She even demands and receives a "mediation" session. The kid reprimands the HR rep for being rude to his mother.

And he wants a promotion? With this company?

Not surprisingly, the aforementioned psychiatrist, Dr. Sophy, deals not with the poor kids who are obviously so traumatised by this treatment, but with the execs and HR people who have to deal with them. Go figure.

Like Kimberly, I'm all for making some adjustments to improve this new generation's chances for inclusion. They are a product, after all, of an increasingly ineffectual education system and a society that seemingly can only communicate in spurts. TV news organizations spoon-feed us our stories in 45 second increments. If a story takes longer than 2 minutes to cover, it's a "special assignment." Likewise, the entire stage of modern societal mores takes place on MTV using videos that encapsulate everything the developing mind evidently needs to know in 3 minutes or less. That's why the so-called "millenials" are coming in with such severe handicaps. They are to be pitied.

On the other hand, we, supposedly, are required to mollycoddle them through it all. Well, that may be fine in the commercial world where markets drive not only the creation of a product or service, but the culture of the company as well. But I live and work in a world where our primary customer is the federal government (or some branch thereof), and socially speaking they are perennially forty to fifty years behind the times. Sure, they believe in (and even encourage) e-commerce and paying millions of dollars to disguise common garbage as "art." But have you seen the men and women who make up the government lately? They (and their fashion designers) still live in the Fifties, for heaven's sake! They do not understand body piercings, nor do they get their news from their cell phones. They have staff to do that for them.

Now, when I was 22 and entering the work force myself, I was probably just as much into "entitlement" as I accuse this generation of being. I had both graduated from high school and served a mission in Central America, after all, and I felt I had done my time. My first hard dose of reality came when I was laid off from my job with only a few months remaining before my wedding. It was, they told me, my attitude more than anything that put my name on the layoff list, and they would not consider re-hiring me unless that attitude changed. Substantially. Dad was the first to jump into the fray in my case. "You messed up," he told me. "What're you gonna do about it?"

Welcome to reality, infant.

A month or two later I had re-evaluated my life to that point and realized that my former boss was right. I had been an S.O.B., and they had a business to run and grow. I had a nice long chat with my former boss about that, and he became my boss once again. And this time it worked. For me, for the company, and for my future family. I learned quickly that employees who play by the rules of engagement succeed far faster than those who only whine and complain about them.

Those who would effect a positive change in those rules go on to become leaders. It's nature's way of keeping the playing field a little more even.

CCWBASS chimes in:

The problem I have with thinking about whole swaths of people as "generations" is that when the term is used it seems to be with the implied understanding that some qualities of said generation somehow sprang out of whole cloth.

Or, to put it ironically, any jackass boomer who shakes his head at the idiocy of today's whining "but I earned a 'good student' bumper sticker four months in a row at McArthur Grade School!" group of new workforce really only has his own generation to blame. Thanks for the successful rebellion against your hard-working parents, ya knuckleheads.

Or maybe we can just blame California, since our state has always been at the front of the "happiness before results" marching column.

This phenomenon would seem to tie in with Gerard's recent evisceration of Joel Stein; we have turned our culture into one where feelings matter more than just about anything else. Witness Harvard's more or less recent debacle when it had to pony up $50 mil. to feminists because one feminist almost fainted when she heard the Dean say something she didn't agree with - the mean old man hurt her feelings, and there is quite possibly no worse crime to commit these days, at least when it comes to sparking moral outrage.

Be sure to follow the link at the bottom of Gerard's post.

Woody rejoins:

Fair enough. I can't disagree that each generation is always the direct result of the generation(s) that came before. But, man, oh man... if I gotta put up with the whining, at least put 'em in Congress where such things are vogue!

CCWBASS exercises self-control! (not a review)

Can I blog about this here? I mean, this site is essentially political, and this little post isn't political at all, but I have to share this, and, besides, it's a pretty short post.

So, I walk into the 7-11 today to buy [a particular beverage in a 2-litre quantity] and I hear the following heavily-eastern-accented conversation between the clerk and a customer as I head for cooler:

[clerk] " . . . what? Four?"

[customer] "[unintelligible]"

[clerk] "Hold up your fingers. How many? Speak English!"

[customer] "[unintelligible]"

[clerk] "Learn to speak English!"

[customer] [angrily unintelligible]"

[clerk] "[drops an Indian-accented F-Bomb]-you!"

[customer] "No! [F-Bomb]-YOU!"

By this time I was in line watching these two swear at each other and make various gestures and mock each others' ability to speak English, and the entire time I was thinking about that character in the movie 40 Year Old Virgin - you know, the old guy Andy works with who has possibly the dirtiest lines in a movie replete with dirty lines - and I'm thinking "If I start laughing, will I end up having to hit one of these guys in the head with my 2-litre bottle if he comes at me?"

So I didn't laugh.

But, man, it wasn't easy, cause it was like hearing The Simpson's Apu and his brother repeat dialogue from an Quentin Tarrantino movie.

Really, it was great.

Um, to give this a political spin, I guess we can say that English is still the international language of commerce, so that's good news, right?

That's all I got. I told you this was a short post.

#227 - Where's the Beef?

In a classic portrayal of the "it's only acceptable when we do it" argument, producers of "Jerry Springer - The Opera" are upset that protests have diminished their ability to stage their musical.

Key oxymoronic quote:

Creators of "Jerry Springer - The Opera," the musical that sparked outrage among conservative Christians when shown on British television, say protests and lobbying have dented ticket sales for a tour in what they call a blow to freedom of speech.

That's right: protests and lobbies specifically protected as "freedom of speech" are a blow to the producers' "freedom of speech."

So... whose freedom should prevail?

The answer to that question always rests with the perspective of the person who framed it. And since I framed it, I get to answer it. In this case, the protestors are quite correct. They don't like the musical (or, more truthfully, the existence of the musical) and they want people to know how upset they are.

Go, protestors.

I'm guessing here that it isn't so much freedom of speech that has the producers biting their collective nails. It's more likely the loss of potential income from not being able to stage a production whose only purpose is to shock cultural sensibilities. There is no message we can attribute to Jerry Springer that can't be explained away as the megalomaniacal rantings of a bi-polar mind. Why should a musical based on his TV show be any more culturally significant?

But it's this protest against protestors that really sticks out here. The protests are, for the most part, religious in nature. Concerned Christians have organized (in ways that Christians rarely are capable of organizing) a solid protest of the depictions of religious figures in the musical. Jesus is considered to be "a little bit gay" and Eve is depicted as behaving in a completely inappropriate way. Composer Richard Thomas (no, not that Richard Thomas) explains such things as being nothing more than a depiction of a man's nightmares. Fair enough. The fact that 60,000 Brits felt strongly enough about it to call the BBC on the carpet for it means that, nightmare or not, they didn't like it. Not one bit. Thomas for his part feels that this is tantamount to religious censorship (in another article) and states that he'd rather be accused of being a blasphemer.

You got it, Dude.

Still, why castigate the protestors? Isn't this what democracy is all about? The ability to freely express opinions on any topic and have those opinions heard is a fundamental freedom. How is this any different from college students being allowed to throw pies at commentators with whom they disagree? Judging from the producers' arguments, I should be allowed to censure someone like Chris Matthews merely because I find him to be a loathsome, offensive, narrow-minded bigot. Not that there's anything wrong with that. And that goes double for Keith Olbermann.

So, you who really find some sort of entertainment or cultural value in "Jerry Springer - The Opera," go ahead and enjoy your show. We, in the meantime, will continue to hope that others will hear our arguments and choose to spend their money elsewhere.

Tithing comes to mind.

#226 - Cure for the Common (American) Idol

Kimberly of Number 2 Pencil is incredulous after witnessing this week's Americal Idol season premiere.

Now, I have never (willingly) watched American Idol. What I know of the show I have gleaned from various news reports, as well as the cameo appearance Simon Cowell makes in "Shrek 2." That's what I know. And that's all I care to know.

There was a time that I was fascinated by talent shows. When "Star Search" was big news, I enjoyed listening to what passed for "talent" since I was still full enough of myself to believe that I knew what really constituted "talent." Most of what I saw never qualified. Flash-in-the-pan stuff, for the most part. Pretty girls with big hair and voices that were canned copies of some gospel choir in Atlanta. Very few of the winners ever stayed famous for more than a few months after the show. Chuck Barris was probably the only guy who understood the value of bad (or no) talent when he produced "The Gong Show."

But this is the age of entitlement. Today's generation only knows that someone - it doesn't matter who - owes them, and owes them big. I have no talent, but you have to put me on your show. I have no idea what terrorists are all about, but you must listen to my opinions of why we should leave them alone. I cannot perform basic algebraic functions, but you owe me a diploma and a leg up on the college of my choice. And everything I know I learned on TV or in the movies.

Don't tell me this isn't true. Everything they do is colored by what Hollywood (and, by extension, the entertainment industry at large) perceives as being erudite. In Hollywood it is not enough to question authority; you must also have a complete disdain and contempt for authority figures. It is not enough to disagree with traditional family values; you must also do everything in your power to legally destroy the family unit.

So when we see spectacles of the type Kimberly (and the legions of "American Idol" fans) witnessed the other night, we needn't look very far to discover the source.

Neither does it require much energy to find the "Off" button on the remote.

#225 - Separated at Birth?

Ray Nagin: New Orleans' answer to Pat Robertson.

My only question: Wasn't New Orleans a "chocolate" town before? Isn't "chocolate" just another metaphor for "melting pot?" In fact, don't you melt "chocolate" in a "melting pot?" I mean, I live in a melting pot and I don't think the honorable Mayor wants to watch the melting process. It ain't pretty. Perhaps Hizzoner should pick another adjective.

Just sayin'.

#224 - Honoring Dr. King - UPDATED

My adult life has had an interesting learning curve. My political views have been pulled from one extreme to another over time, although I have always considered myself a "conservative" in the classic sense of the word. I am considered a right-winger by virtue of the fact that I am a devoted Christian and very active in my church. I have some latent "liberal" tendencies by virtue of that same religious devotion. I am a Republican, but not so staunch that I won't vote against the ticket if given a better offer. Political trust must always be earned.

Through that learning curve I have been influenced to one degree or another by many different schools of thought. These were generally presented by individuals with whom I had some sort of contact socially (hard to fathom, I know). Each of them felt at the time that their views were not only valid, but the closest thing to the "truth" as they understood it. During my flirtations with libertarianism, one such individual tried to change my views and perceptions regarding Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

By way of background I should probably mention that I am not a huge fan of revisionist history. I am also not a partaker of the histeria that every person of any historical significance was somehow flawed and should automatically color my appreciation for their contributions to this country and/or the world at large.

If I may wax philosophical for a moment (I'm not sure just how one would wax their philosophical, but I imagine it involves lots of elbow grease), it seems to me to be counter-productive to dismiss out of hand everything an individual says just because of some perceived character flaw.

I don't even really want to get into whether or not one believes that Dr. King was (pick the aberration of your choice) a philanderer, a socialist, a petty crook, or just plain wrong-minded. In carefully reading his more significant writings and speeches I must conclude that he had a good grasp of some very basic truths, and those truths are important to our society today.

It's unfortunate, really, that such people as Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson have taken up the torch, because they do Dr. King's work a distinct disservice. Instead of understanding, as Bill Cosby does, that Dr. King made it possible for black people to take control of their own destinies, Sharpton and Jackson instead believe that only through political intimidation can the case be made for blacks and other "minorities" to make their way in our culture today.

Such distractions aside, our realization that the fight for civil rights is an honorable one is largely due to the ideals that Dr. King preached. He deserves to be honored for having the moral courage to fight for those rights using the talents that God himself gave him. Setting aside any other considerations, his published works speak to some very basic human needs, and we owe them a careful study.

Thus, even if we choose not to honor the man, we can honor what he said by attempting to eliminate color as either a crutch or an excuse. Even if we don't feel he deserves a federal holiday, we can still honor his dream of judging people not by their color but by their character. Even if Dr. King's character was something short of stellar as a man, we can only look to ourselves and question how squeaky clean we are before we cast him into the collective pit of public personalities who fell short of our expectations.

He has lots of company.

UPDATE: Scott Johnson of Power Line ably demonstrates the legacy.

Movie Review: Bloodrayne = Really, really horrible

I’m beginning to think that I am not merely drawn to bad movies, but that some part of my brain – one that I have no control over – actively seeks them out. Like Wednesday night, for example: I had nothing else better to do, so I thought, “Hey – I’ll see a movie!”

So what did I pick? Bloodrayne, of course. Now, bear in mind that I knew nothing about this movie going into it, and I mean nothing. I was completely at the mercy of this movie to declare itself to me on its own terms.

I knew I was in trouble when the beginning credits started rolling and Bloodrayne informed me that [1] it was based on a computer game and [2] it was directed by Uwe Boll.

I would like to say right now that I don’t believe that movies that are based on computer games are bad by definition, but as I can only think of one I’ve ever seen that was actually entertaining (Mortal Kombat), I feel confident in suggesting a rule that plots derived from computer games are at least indicative – if not always the cause – of movie wretchedness.

There are, of course, exceptions to the rule. A talented director can make even the most threadbare script into something entertaining, or at least lucid.

Alas, Uwe Boll [link is not Safe For Mom] helmed this effort, and his hammy fist of incompetence has left its greasy stains on every unwatchable second of every movie he’s been involved with, and so I knew as soon as his name appeared that I was in for a tough night.

[pause]

Hm.

[again, a pause]

Okay – you know those old Japanese monster movies, the ones with giant monsters that trash Tokyo? You know how weird the pacing and editing is, and how, when combined with the herky-jerky dubbing of English dialogue, the only thing you’re sure of as you watch is that somehow the plot is advancing itself even though you’re not sure precisely how, even when many characters are introduced strictly and precisely for the purpose of exposition, and so you feel headachy after a while because you know you should have at least some kind of basic understanding of what’s going by the time Godzilla has trashed the power station only it’s just out of your grasp because for all you know the dialogue could have been meant for the Gamera movie instead and then you start wondering if Japan shouldn’t start paying reparations to the United States because of the fact that they squandered our post-WWII rebuilding money to make ridiculous monster movies?

Got that in your mind? Uwe Boll kinda goes for that method, only there’s much less dialogue and there’s lots – gobs, really – of off-speed vampire sucking and stuff and a couple of flashbacks that you’re not sure are flashbacks until after the fact, and all I really learned in the first 20 minutes of the movie was that Billy Zane still can’t act. And, I dunno, maybe he was related to the main character, a hot-lookin’ blonde vampire who possibly wants to kill him. And I think some stuff had to be found. In order to kill some guy.

Or something.

Somehow, Ghandi was involved, too, but I never got the chance to figure out how. I kept thinking, “He’s broke. Ghandi is broke and now he’s doing the old Michael Caine ‘I’ll be in anything that pays’ schtick.”

[pause]

Okay – you know Joe Flaherty of SCTV, and how he did this one skit of Norman Gorman, this guy with a thick Bronx accent doing “Shakespeah in da pahk”?

No – wait! Here’s a better one: You know how funny it is when guys who learned Spanish in high school go to Mexican restaurants and talk to the waitresses in their high school Spanish and they do it in a total gringo accent? That’s just embarrassing, right?

It’s kind of the same way with guys who’ve spent their entire life speaking in casual, slang-ridden American English and suddenly they have to sound all middle ages or something stupid like that. Take out the contractions – make the guys says “Yes, I will do that” instead of “Yeah, I’ll do it,” - and you’re going to get one of two results: either the guys will sound like improv actors channeling Benny Hill doing Richard Burton, or you’ll get Flaherty’s “Shakespeah in da pahk” skit, and when the hapless actor doing “Shakespeah in da pahk” is playing it straight instead of for laughs, the results are First Week of American Idol bad. You just feel horrible for the guy, physically hurt on his behalf.

Michael Madsen, Michelle Rodriguez, and whoever that third guy was – well, I just wanted to crawl under my seat, that’s how embarrassed I felt. I mean, it’s bad enough to have your hair died by the C-Team so that you can see the areas the dye-brush missed, but to have to utter silly dialogue in a manner that is completely foreign to your acting sensibilities?

Whew! Is all I can say.

[pause]

Okay – the fact is that I left the movie twenty minutes into it, shortly after Billy Zane tells some other, better actor “You are SUCH a suck-up” and the hot blonde has been told by one of the few legit actors in the film in a different scene that . . . um . . . I can’t really remember.

It was some kind of fortune telling scene, I remember that.

You know, even the fortune teller seemed uncomfortable with her lines. Everyone did, now that I think about it. Even Ghandi.

The only really clear memory I have of Bloodrayne, outside of the register of embarrassed amusement that one of the utterly unsympathetic heroes in the movies was Tough Guy actor Michael Madsen, was that I just couldn’t take any more.

Really. I’d just had enough.

So I walked out.

Sorry, but even the most committed and cranky self-proclaimed lover of bad movies has his limits.

Not even the prospect of being able to write a longer review could keep me in that seat.

Not even the prospect of seeing what part Meat Loaf ended up with.

This is your Cranky Reviewer, logging off.

#223 - Literarily Kennedy

(H/T: Michelle Malkin)

Now this sounds like a wonderful idea. The Right-Reverend, Esteemed, and Honorable Senator Edward Somethingorother Kennedy (D - Chappaquiddick) is now the alleged author of a new children's book. The book, entitled "My Senator and Me: A Dog's-Eye View of Washington, D.C." will be released this May in what I'm sure he hopes will be a media frenzy of the Potter variety. I'm guessing he envisions himself being invited to the DC Press Club for a riveting reading of his magnum opus.

According to the press release issued by Scholastic, Inc., the book takes its readers through a day in the life of the Senator, presumably from the dog's perspective. It even "explains how a bill becomes a law." As if Kennedy would know about that.

In what must be a Woundup first, we have exclusive excerpts from the original manuscript. Portions of this manuscript lead us to believe the Senator's dog, "Splash" (how utterly appropo!) was the true author, and that the Senator merely engaged him for ghost-writing purposes. There was a definite "air" surrounding this manuscript, if you get our drift. Excerpts follow:

What a day! It's only 12:30 in the afternoon, but Master is finally awake and ready for his first martini. Perhaps if I'm a good doggie, he'll save some for me!

...

Master's chauffeur called in sick again today. The man driving us to the Capitol today didn't understand what Master meant by "the usual detour, please," and tied Master up on DuPont Circle for two hours. If we don't hurry, Master won't be able to read his speech about why someone named "Alioto" isn't suitable for something called the "Supreme Court." I don't know anything about that, but if we're stuck in this limo for much longer, Master will need a very expensive shoe shine when we get there.

...

Master is talking to other humans with gray hair and suits that always remind me of fire hydrants. Hey, I'm a dog. Everything reminds me of a fire hydrant!

...

Finally! Master is working very hard to get a bill passed in the Senate. This morning he said some very bad words about not having had a good session of Congress lately. Something about a bush. I know what to do with a bush! Perhaps I can help Master!

...

Master just had a meeting with someone who passed Master a lot of greenish paper. Master said something about "helping democracy," which usually means we will be visiting Master's bank again soon.

As I say, this is a Woundup Exclusive. I have no doubt that you, like me, are anxious to see the rest of this significant contribution to children's literature. I'm sure Peabody nominations will follow.

I'm equally certain my kids will be too busy reading the Constitution to care what Kennedy thinks about it. Or his dog, for that matter.