- The White House is blocking the release of details concerning Jack "Off" Abramhoff's meetings with Bushie officials. Something to hide? Absolutely. As Frank Rich postulated this weekend, finding a photo with Dubya and Jack-off would be the new Clinton-Lewinsky hug. And I'm willing to bet a dozen jelly donuts that it's out there somewhere.
- The House Republicans got out in front of the train yesterday by releasing new lobbying ethics reforms. To call it a load of shite would be far too generous. Especially when you parse the details like the WashingtonPost did. Most astonishingly, if you couple a free trip, meal or happy ending with a campaign contribution - all's copacetic. So correct me if I'm missing the point here. If you give both freebies AND campaign money, you're good. If you give just freebies, bad. Reform? Jesus on a pogostick, can we please get on this issue and beat there crooks over the head with it!
- N'Awlins Mayor Ray Nagin is unfortunately my new pick as the dumbest politician in America given his "chocolate" quote yesterday. I've never liked the guy even though I think he got the rawest deal in the history of raw deals by being abandoned by the Feds. But this dumbassity shall hurt that reconstruction more than another hurricane.
- And Paula Abdul's back on the sauce. As if she were ever off it. She missed a press event because of a so-called "eye infection". I expect Scott McClellan to be questioned rigorously today about what this may mean to the War on Terror. Which by the way, is still the dumbest name for a so-called war since the 100 Years War. Look it up.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
"Does the 'Global Struggle Against Violent Extremism' count?"
A few issues that require a quick venting this morning...
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Was Frey really fried or just a fraud? A new perspective.
Of all the things I should be doing at the moment, further reading about the James Frey story of inventing his own history is at number 843 of 847. Call it a brief break from my own "memoir in motion". But I was struck by the insider honesty of the piece I read on Publisher's Weekly site by Heather King who's also gone through rehab at Hazelden. I've had many shifting reactions to this story which I realize ain't exactly the most compelling story for people that think of writing as a chore in comparison with a calling. Nonetheless, Heather King's take now seems to me to be the most honest. Taken in double-dosage with the release of Oprah's next pick for her Book Club, I'm now entirely feeling like I've been messed with in previously promoting the style over the substance of Frey's shtick. In short, this guy is a fraud. But worth reading for the comparative analysis if for no other reason.
The Nannying begins
This morning with a slight degree of trepidation and buckets of glee, we left Maya in the capable hands of one of her new part-time nannies, Collette. Unlike so many new people Maya's encountered in the last many months, she went to Collette like a famished camper to a delicious cheeseburger. Collette's WAY too qualified to be taking what we're paying her - her regular work is as an occupational therapist who also helps kids with developmentally-delayed needs. But she's excited to work with Maya who was especially charming and cute both during the interview last week and this first morning. So I'm now focusing on my writing and a number of other projects that have been put off recently. We can now look back and appreciate how much we really struggled in our attempts to find someone we both felt was qualified and would accept what we were offering. "Flexibility" was formerly our chief requirement, and I now think that's what screwed us so royally. With this round of screening and interviewing, we stressed warmth and tried to be much more solid in our scheduling. That seems to have made all the difference. Well, that AND the luck of finding two women with way more to offer than what we'd met previously. Just when I was beginning to doubt that Craigslist would work for this endeavour, we were surprised by the power of such listing services. I'm glad to be a true believer once more - the next time I see Craig Newmark (THE "Craig" who hangs out at my favorite cafe, Reverie in Cole Valley, where I can once again hang my hat part-time), I'll be sure to give him a bearhug and playful noogie in thanks.
As both Sarah and I kept half-an-eye on The Golden Globules last night, I was struck by how much more interesting celebrity-types are when they're drinking versus sitting sedately and trying to look engaged. No surprise there. My favorite throw-away moment was when Bob Hoskins (nominated for his role in "Mrs. Henderson") was shown drunkenly licking his lips as Penelope Cruz introduced his performance - he looked like the biggest lech imaginable. That and when Matt "I'm NOT Johnny Drama" Dillon prodded Queen Latifa to read off the cue cards with a loose approximation of "I think it's your line, hon." True Gold in the unintentional sense of the evening. Otherwise, I couldn't have cared less. George Clooney gets my award for the best subtly-political acceptance speech. Hugh Laurie had the funniest speech (LOVED him in "The Black Adder" series from years back on the BBC, haven't paid any attention to his cantankerous Doctor role on "House" for which he won). Didn't stay up for the big awards, but I know that gay cowboys are raising a healthy crop of gold this season. That pleases me immensely. Hope y'all ranch a similar bumpercrop from yer own events today. Rock on.
As both Sarah and I kept half-an-eye on The Golden Globules last night, I was struck by how much more interesting celebrity-types are when they're drinking versus sitting sedately and trying to look engaged. No surprise there. My favorite throw-away moment was when Bob Hoskins (nominated for his role in "Mrs. Henderson") was shown drunkenly licking his lips as Penelope Cruz introduced his performance - he looked like the biggest lech imaginable. That and when Matt "I'm NOT Johnny Drama" Dillon prodded Queen Latifa to read off the cue cards with a loose approximation of "I think it's your line, hon." True Gold in the unintentional sense of the evening. Otherwise, I couldn't have cared less. George Clooney gets my award for the best subtly-political acceptance speech. Hugh Laurie had the funniest speech (LOVED him in "The Black Adder" series from years back on the BBC, haven't paid any attention to his cantankerous Doctor role on "House" for which he won). Didn't stay up for the big awards, but I know that gay cowboys are raising a healthy crop of gold this season. That pleases me immensely. Hope y'all ranch a similar bumpercrop from yer own events today. Rock on.
Monday, January 16, 2006
"Way to go Johnny Drama!"
With Maya offering some pre-show complaints from the back bedroom, I'm watching the delayed coverage of the Golden Globes. Holy crap! Did you know that one of the camera shots now utilized in the uncomfortable Billy Bush-like interviews is the toe-to-head shot? Not head-to-toe, mind you - they start at the feet and pan up until the director is satisfied by the ugly reaction from the actor's head. I just saw them do it to Charlize Theron and Mandy Moore. Not surprisingly, they didn't do so for Queen Latifah. Royalty, ya know.
Lovin' the Al Gore reunion-indignation tour started this afternoon. Big Al called for an independent investigation of Dubya's warrantless NSA evesdroppin' program. Kudos.
Sorry...we're entirely distracted by the utterly REE-DEE-Q-LUST banter on the red carpet outside the Golden Globules. I'll give a breakdown tomorrow. Thank you to the Foreign Press Association for the opportunity to hang out with Al Roker and Michael Bolton. And to all my fans in the balcony - I LOVE YOUSE GUISE!
Lovin' the Al Gore reunion-indignation tour started this afternoon. Big Al called for an independent investigation of Dubya's warrantless NSA evesdroppin' program. Kudos.
Sorry...we're entirely distracted by the utterly REE-DEE-Q-LUST banter on the red carpet outside the Golden Globules. I'll give a breakdown tomorrow. Thank you to the Foreign Press Association for the opportunity to hang out with Al Roker and Michael Bolton. And to all my fans in the balcony - I LOVE YOUSE GUISE!
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Maya lobbies for a space of her own
Don't EVEN get me started on L. Paul "Jerry" Scooter Mayor McCheese Bremer's "Meet the Press" appearance this morning. He's so perfectly Bushie in the post-Iraqcle debacle context - trying to now get credit for supposedly "admitting" mistakes while entirely spreading the blame outside everyone else's campsites. Whatta dooshbag. Can't wait to see if Jon Stewart actually gives him a moment of proper astonished indignation on "The Daily Show" this upcoming week. But before I drop this (as I'd intended to do after a brief opening rimshot), can you believe that the Bushies have allowed "What's my declassified nickname again?...The Frickin' Bremster?!" Bremer to go off the reservation with this critique? In his assuredly horrible book, L. Paul criticizes Rummy. And he talks disparengingly of inadequate troop levels. Or is it troops level. Whatever the case may be, this shows a chink in the previously inpenetrable claims of always giving those brave commanders what they need. Any chance he'll backhand back that Medal of Freedom? Doubt it.
Much more importantly on this NFL Playoffs weekend - I just got through the Steelers' crazy victory over the Colts. Look for more assholy comments about the Colts' kicker Mike Vanderjagt following his horrendous "Wide Right!" like those previously uttered by Peyton Manning ("our drunken kicker had to go off and shoot off his damn mouth..."). But let's all remember just how completely outclassed the Colts were in this one. Just as the previously unstoppable Patriots were - the Donkeys finished off Tom Brady's streak in a fashion that was more entertaining on a Saturday night than a nude drag race. Oh, yea...the Seahags finished off the seriously streaky Sunburned-Native-Americans, too. Great Playoffishness thus far.
Maya's elevated her busy and mischievous hands to a new level of hard-to-control fun. Earlier this morning as she tore her way through the far-too-adultish junk on our endtable I suggested to Sarah that we should build a little rubber room which we could fill with disconnected cordless phones, a TiVo remote control, some paper clips, a cellphone and a 50-pound bag of pretzels - everything that Maya seemingly loves at this point in time. Sarah didn't exactly veto it. So look for fresh pics of this New-Improved Gitmo in the weeks ahead. But in all seriousness, Maya's a freakin' delight of a handful. In that line of reasoning, the week ahead should be especially important. Namely - we found a nanny. More accurately, two. The primary woman is named Megan - a former actor with tons of experience with kids and truckloads of pop-culture cred, which was one of Maya's requirements (Megan was on a season of "Dawson's Creek" and did a handful of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" episodes ). More importantly, she's warm, funny, and kick-ass cool. Our part-time part-timer is named Collette - an occupational therapist who welcomed the chance to work with Maya while studying for her post-grad-school licensing tests. I'll do my best to respect their privacy while showcasing their amazingness in the months ahead. Hope your own positions are equally filled with satisfaction. Rock on.
Much more importantly on this NFL Playoffs weekend - I just got through the Steelers' crazy victory over the Colts. Look for more assholy comments about the Colts' kicker Mike Vanderjagt following his horrendous "Wide Right!" like those previously uttered by Peyton Manning ("our drunken kicker had to go off and shoot off his damn mouth..."). But let's all remember just how completely outclassed the Colts were in this one. Just as the previously unstoppable Patriots were - the Donkeys finished off Tom Brady's streak in a fashion that was more entertaining on a Saturday night than a nude drag race. Oh, yea...the Seahags finished off the seriously streaky Sunburned-Native-Americans, too. Great Playoffishness thus far.
Maya's elevated her busy and mischievous hands to a new level of hard-to-control fun. Earlier this morning as she tore her way through the far-too-adultish junk on our endtable I suggested to Sarah that we should build a little rubber room which we could fill with disconnected cordless phones, a TiVo remote control, some paper clips, a cellphone and a 50-pound bag of pretzels - everything that Maya seemingly loves at this point in time. Sarah didn't exactly veto it. So look for fresh pics of this New-Improved Gitmo in the weeks ahead. But in all seriousness, Maya's a freakin' delight of a handful. In that line of reasoning, the week ahead should be especially important. Namely - we found a nanny. More accurately, two. The primary woman is named Megan - a former actor with tons of experience with kids and truckloads of pop-culture cred, which was one of Maya's requirements (Megan was on a season of "Dawson's Creek" and did a handful of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" episodes ). More importantly, she's warm, funny, and kick-ass cool. Our part-time part-timer is named Collette - an occupational therapist who welcomed the chance to work with Maya while studying for her post-grad-school licensing tests. I'll do my best to respect their privacy while showcasing their amazingness in the months ahead. Hope your own positions are equally filled with satisfaction. Rock on.
Friday, January 13, 2006
"And they've got a heckuva lot of great garbage for kids to pick through."
Even though everyone's resigned to the unfortunate reality that Samuel Alito will be given a lifetime job as one of the biggest dicks in DC, the Dems are delaying the vote. Unless they've got a reason to dump on the dood, they need to capitulate in this particular case. They'd be better off making a big deal of how lame the whole process was rather than putting up this momentary speed bump. I can't say strongly enough what a bad taste Alito leaves on my palate. But being whiny after being so ineffectual is exactly why so few of the natural allies of Democratic positions are willing to stand with them when times are actually tough. Make fun of the guy. Mock his teary wife. Follow his dick of a kid around campus. Say that we are further headed down the wrong road. But vote. Seriously.
So Dubya's dumb enough to cart out his "heckuva" moniker when it comes to NOLA. Has anyone in the known world forgotten how dumb "Brownie, yer doin' a heckuva job" sounded? We really are the blind being led by the dumb.
Maya just erupted into consciousness after a satisfyingly long nap. I know she'll want to post much more commentary over the weekend, so please check back. Hope your own floodwaters have receded considerably. Rock on.
So Dubya's dumb enough to cart out his "heckuva" moniker when it comes to NOLA. Has anyone in the known world forgotten how dumb "Brownie, yer doin' a heckuva job" sounded? We really are the blind being led by the dumb.
Maya just erupted into consciousness after a satisfyingly long nap. I know she'll want to post much more commentary over the weekend, so please check back. Hope your own floodwaters have receded considerably. Rock on.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
"But I know what my constituents really want to know is, have you ever REALLY looked at a rainbow?"
Alito's confirmation hearing was so interminably boring yesterday that the news networks have already jumped off the full coverage bandwagon. Bank hold-ups, crappy video surveillance tapes, people hugging their pets - anything that shows life in actual motion seems to trump this bunk. At the moment everyone's riveted, RIVETED, by Tom "I'm Not an Attorney" Coburn lobbing fluffy snowballs about foreign rulings and stare decisis and...ZZZZZZ.
Oops, sorry 'bout that. I seem to have nodded off, like Sam Brownback actually did during yesterday's testimony. Alito is Nyquil and qualludes in human form. And now Coburn's asking "why would you want to be a Supreme Court justice?" Oh, SNAP! That'll really trip him up....ZZZZZZ.
Damn, nodded off again. And now Coburn's asking "tell us a little about Sam Alito" and I just saw Alito's son yawning in the front row behind him. Alito is communicable narcolepsy. I hate to say it, but just vote for the twit already. He'll be a horrible Justice and will hurt all of us in countless ways. But I'd rather be thrown into Gitmo than be forced to endure heartfelt descriptions of this man's softer side. Hope your own hearings feature some actual excitement today. Rock on.
Oops, sorry 'bout that. I seem to have nodded off, like Sam Brownback actually did during yesterday's testimony. Alito is Nyquil and qualludes in human form. And now Coburn's asking "why would you want to be a Supreme Court justice?" Oh, SNAP! That'll really trip him up....ZZZZZZ.
Damn, nodded off again. And now Coburn's asking "tell us a little about Sam Alito" and I just saw Alito's son yawning in the front row behind him. Alito is communicable narcolepsy. I hate to say it, but just vote for the twit already. He'll be a horrible Justice and will hurt all of us in countless ways. But I'd rather be thrown into Gitmo than be forced to endure heartfelt descriptions of this man's softer side. Hope your own hearings feature some actual excitement today. Rock on.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
"Cookie Monster on a STICK!"
As the questioning of Samuel Alito starts rolling, I'm less and less impressed with the facade he's presenting. No big surprise - we all expect these judgey-types to be slippery, especially when faced with the oversized Senator egos on the Judiciary Committee. Even those of us that aren't lawyers but read about the relevant cases know when we're hearing code. With John Roberts, you got buckets of charm thrown in the mix. With this dude, you get icy disdain. Can you imagine him as a Dad? Oy. Break curfew and you're SOOO screwed. But think of adding him to a BigDaddy triumverate with Scalia and Thomas and imagine the sort of chores they'll come up with. Hella-Oy. I fear that the most honest thing he's said thus far was yesterday during his opening statement when he bashed the debauchery he saw from some of those around him while at Princeton. Obviously, Alito wasn't a "party" sorta guy. No, this guy was the pooper to end all poopers. Now he's poised to ascend to the Big Show unless he has a sudden onset of Tourette Syndrome and gives Senator Sam Brownback a new nickname (as if he needs one). Mega-Oy-Yoy-Yoy.
Speaking of outbursts, Maya's verbal gymnastics have taken on a new characterization for me. To get the idea, think of the body waxing scene in "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" (my favorite epiteth - "Kelli Clarkson!). I'll try to get up a few audio files showcasing her range. Otherwise, she's diggin' the Mac 'n Cheese, psyched to have an ankle deep layer of new toys from the Holidaze scattered throughout the apartment, and ready to start interviewing new nanny candidates. Our past attempts have been miserable failures, but the new round looks promising. If anything especially ridiculous comes up, I'll pass it along. Hope your own screening processes yield welcomed surprises. Rock on.
Speaking of outbursts, Maya's verbal gymnastics have taken on a new characterization for me. To get the idea, think of the body waxing scene in "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" (my favorite epiteth - "Kelli Clarkson!). I'll try to get up a few audio files showcasing her range. Otherwise, she's diggin' the Mac 'n Cheese, psyched to have an ankle deep layer of new toys from the Holidaze scattered throughout the apartment, and ready to start interviewing new nanny candidates. Our past attempts have been miserable failures, but the new round looks promising. If anything especially ridiculous comes up, I'll pass it along. Hope your own screening processes yield welcomed surprises. Rock on.
Monday, January 09, 2006
The Day's newzie methane wafts freely
I'll try to connect what I feel to be the three most interesting newzie stories of the Day with the following bumpersticker - "If you buy the Cow, don't be suprised by the Crap." Actually, I'm not sure that it's a bumpersticker. Yet. Check back on that one.
"If you buy the Cow, don't be surprised by the Crap" ("IYBTCDBSBTC") Story Numero Uno - James Frey is full of crap. That's James Frey, of the recently reformed Oprah's Book Club, the author of "A Million Little Pieces" which became the second-best selling book of 2005 (even though it was originally published in 2003). The Smoking Gun has a typically sensational yet utterly insightful dump on Frey's book. I read it when it came out, and I'm not trying to out-cool anyone. Well, maybe I am. But in the interest of honest critique. The "memoir" describing Frey's astonishing abuse issues and the resulting treatment was entirely unorthodox and scary/funny. So...now it turns out to be mostly a load of crap. If you're familiar with Frey's Oprah-driven success, you need to read just what a fraud this guy is. But, if you buy the Cow...
"IYBTCDBSBTC" Story Numero, um, Two-oh - Samuel Alito is the least funny whiteguy in a country full of them. His opening statement on a day full of them at his Confirmation Hearings was more full of groaners than a nursing home fieldtrip bus rollover. Absolutely what I'd expected. Tomorrow, the crap may actually begin to fly. Check back for Maya's assessment.
"IYBTCDBSBTC" Story Numero C - Howard Stern debuted on the Sirius satellite network this morning and promptly emitted a healthy fog of blue material and promised that "the only limit is our (sic) mind" for the future. Don't get me wrong - I think Howard's a ballsy entertainer. But he's so low-ball he makes a pair of twos look like a full house. I'll wait for the stories on him featuring live sex acts before I give him credit for being newly tasteless. Until then, I'm still one of those mostly-NPR freaks downloading podcasts from elsewhere like a cynical cyborg when it comes to radio.
Hope your own "IYBTCDBSBTC" views of the world are methane-free. Rock on.
"If you buy the Cow, don't be surprised by the Crap" ("IYBTCDBSBTC") Story Numero Uno - James Frey is full of crap. That's James Frey, of the recently reformed Oprah's Book Club, the author of "A Million Little Pieces" which became the second-best selling book of 2005 (even though it was originally published in 2003). The Smoking Gun has a typically sensational yet utterly insightful dump on Frey's book. I read it when it came out, and I'm not trying to out-cool anyone. Well, maybe I am. But in the interest of honest critique. The "memoir" describing Frey's astonishing abuse issues and the resulting treatment was entirely unorthodox and scary/funny. So...now it turns out to be mostly a load of crap. If you're familiar with Frey's Oprah-driven success, you need to read just what a fraud this guy is. But, if you buy the Cow...
"IYBTCDBSBTC" Story Numero, um, Two-oh - Samuel Alito is the least funny whiteguy in a country full of them. His opening statement on a day full of them at his Confirmation Hearings was more full of groaners than a nursing home fieldtrip bus rollover. Absolutely what I'd expected. Tomorrow, the crap may actually begin to fly. Check back for Maya's assessment.
"IYBTCDBSBTC" Story Numero C - Howard Stern debuted on the Sirius satellite network this morning and promptly emitted a healthy fog of blue material and promised that "the only limit is our (sic) mind" for the future. Don't get me wrong - I think Howard's a ballsy entertainer. But he's so low-ball he makes a pair of twos look like a full house. I'll wait for the stories on him featuring live sex acts before I give him credit for being newly tasteless. Until then, I'm still one of those mostly-NPR freaks downloading podcasts from elsewhere like a cynical cyborg when it comes to radio.
Hope your own "IYBTCDBSBTC" views of the world are methane-free. Rock on.
Schwarzenegger rumbles on to Victory, smashes melon
The Guhvuhnator is testing a new voter outreach program - once again with his family and love for moh-toh-cy-culls on full display. Or actually, Ah-nolled creamed a Brentwood soccer mom's Volvo wagon yesterday. No word on whether he was wearing a helmet, but he did need 15 stitches to his lip. So we should also expect that his accent will be even MORE outrageous in the weeks ahead. Ladies and gentlemen, start your impressions!
We rented "Cinderella Man" last night - my rating is a lukewarm C. A good, rousing finale, but the fight scenes are too rapid-fire and the emotional background bunk is pretty much by the numbers. Good performances, especially by the adorable hungry urchins. But you would have thought that Ron Howard would have taken the time to watch "Raging Bull" or even "Million Dollar Baby" before taking on this project. James Braddock was an amazing American sports story. I just don't think the bankable braintrust that is Grazer/Howard did anything worth bragging about herein. Save yourself the rental fee, and watch it on HBO or its less-impressive brethren when it comes out. I'm sure it will be playing there approximately ever 11 minutes for 8-months thereafter.
Hated seeing Carson Palmer go down with a knee injury yesterday. The Cincinnati Bengals are still the Bungles as a result. Drag. But it does give those of us that care another chance to see Steelers coach, Bill Cowher, scowl at his competition next week. The Patriots are also clicking like a 8-legged-tapdancer as evidenced by their dismantling of the Jags, the Panthers pooped all over the Manning Family victory tour, and the Redskins kept alive hope for all of DC that someone will write a few stories in the Post about something other than Samuel Alito's horrible avoidances and stylish comb-over. Hope your own newsbriefs are freshly washed and unbunched at the moment. Rock on.
We rented "Cinderella Man" last night - my rating is a lukewarm C. A good, rousing finale, but the fight scenes are too rapid-fire and the emotional background bunk is pretty much by the numbers. Good performances, especially by the adorable hungry urchins. But you would have thought that Ron Howard would have taken the time to watch "Raging Bull" or even "Million Dollar Baby" before taking on this project. James Braddock was an amazing American sports story. I just don't think the bankable braintrust that is Grazer/Howard did anything worth bragging about herein. Save yourself the rental fee, and watch it on HBO or its less-impressive brethren when it comes out. I'm sure it will be playing there approximately ever 11 minutes for 8-months thereafter.
Hated seeing Carson Palmer go down with a knee injury yesterday. The Cincinnati Bengals are still the Bungles as a result. Drag. But it does give those of us that care another chance to see Steelers coach, Bill Cowher, scowl at his competition next week. The Patriots are also clicking like a 8-legged-tapdancer as evidenced by their dismantling of the Jags, the Panthers pooped all over the Manning Family victory tour, and the Redskins kept alive hope for all of DC that someone will write a few stories in the Post about something other than Samuel Alito's horrible avoidances and stylish comb-over. Hope your own newsbriefs are freshly washed and unbunched at the moment. Rock on.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
The Vikes get serious, the Frost Heaves get Hot-Hot-Hot!
Many Packers fans like me are terrified of the head coach hiring decision being guided by the incomparably incompetent, Ted "EVEN Worse than Tommy" Thompson. The list of second-class males I've heard bandied about thus far is all the evidence you need. In short, I'm looking at the Pack as a fallen franchise that won't find a cure for what ails us in the foreseeable future. But then I read a piece from the always interesting Minneapolis Star-Tribune (the "Strib" as it should always be known) about how their owner, Zygi Wilf, courted their new head coach, Brad Childress, and I began to feel even worse. I don't think I've ever said this, but I'm incredibly impressed by the Vikings. Having big-time cash and jets and what I assume are the finest hookers in the 612 area code on-call surely helps. Still, the always interesting 'Sconi-Mudducks border battle might just tilt entirely in the Western direction in the near future if Thompson goes anywhere near the choices he seems to have on his short list. Zygi "No, Not MILF, it's" Wilf may have the worst name in pro sports. But he's kicked the crap out of the Pack's tarnished legacy this week.
In other sportiness, I'm very excited by how the soon-to-be-beloved New Brew Crew are handling their off-season acquisitions. Bringing back a strong closer (Dan Kolb) as a set-up reliever and picking up an under-used third-bagger, Corey Koskie, at a garage sale equivalent price is dating-the-homecoming-queen-whose-Dad- sells-weed lucky. Yet aside from my well-established Milwaukee fetish, my favorite New Year sports story comes from the unlikely climes of the Green Mountain State. Namely, I'm going to pay some bigtime long-distance attention in the year ahead to the arrival of the Vermont Frost Heaves - the newest '06-'07 ABA franchise (that's WAY-subpar NBA basketball for those that are un-acronym-aware, or UAA). A fun ongoing story that I happened upon the introduction of in an issue of "Sports Illustrated" from last month piqued my interest. I even ordered a t-shirt as a result. You shirty folks should too. So the Biggish Leagues FINALLY come to Vermont. And even though they're trying to use the Packers as a model of community ownership (a great idea, unless you're trying to convince the Terrell Owens'es of the World to come a courtin'), I'm all in on this team. Do yourself a favor and get Heavin'! Rock on.
In other sportiness, I'm very excited by how the soon-to-be-beloved New Brew Crew are handling their off-season acquisitions. Bringing back a strong closer (Dan Kolb) as a set-up reliever and picking up an under-used third-bagger, Corey Koskie, at a garage sale equivalent price is dating-the-homecoming-queen-whose-Dad- sells-weed lucky. Yet aside from my well-established Milwaukee fetish, my favorite New Year sports story comes from the unlikely climes of the Green Mountain State. Namely, I'm going to pay some bigtime long-distance attention in the year ahead to the arrival of the Vermont Frost Heaves - the newest '06-'07 ABA franchise (that's WAY-subpar NBA basketball for those that are un-acronym-aware, or UAA). A fun ongoing story that I happened upon the introduction of in an issue of "Sports Illustrated" from last month piqued my interest. I even ordered a t-shirt as a result. You shirty folks should too. So the Biggish Leagues FINALLY come to Vermont. And even though they're trying to use the Packers as a model of community ownership (a great idea, unless you're trying to convince the Terrell Owens'es of the World to come a courtin'), I'm all in on this team. Do yourself a favor and get Heavin'! Rock on.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
From today's "Have you no sense of decency at long last?" file - DeLay gets his due (Tee-hee-hee)
DeLay's done. Over. Completely toxic and not yet even close to fully exposed as the criminal he is, was and will FINALLY be forever categorized as being. If this guy were an element, he'd be plutonium. Good luck trying to get back into the extermination game in Houston. My humanist side hopes he stashed some of the millions in contributions he took from his political extortion activities because...jeez, what the hell am I saying? All I would say to Tom DeLay if given the chance is this - "history will be your final arbiter. Read up on Joe McArthy and his downfall. You're gonna make his descent look like a comfy tandem-parachute ride. Oh, and you've got something on your tie. Boop!" As Nelson from "The Simpsons" so famously says - Ha-Ha! Put that on your Freedom Fries. Bee-yahtches.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Lohan sets the record straight, wears bikini
For once, the real thing lived up to and surpassed the hype. Texas beat USC in the National Championship game last night in the Rose Bowl. 41-38. Over 1100 combined yards, bone-crushing tackles, insanely good performances from the most highly touted college players in decades, marvelously coiffed cheerleaders shaking the crap out of their pom poms throughout, enough Keith Jackson high quality commentary to last well into the middle of 2008. I did end up losing $1 to my father-in-law by picking USC. And as a Big 10 grad, I find the use of the Rose Bowl in this BCS BS to be utterly distasteful. But so long as these sorts of games come along, I'm all in, Baby.
I heard that Condi "Does This Pantsuit Make My Ego Look Big?" Rice characterized Ariel Sharon as a "gigantic figure" in the Middle East. Bad move. Don't insult the guy's "glandular problem" when he's fighting for his life. Even if he's a total fatty.
The NYTimes features a plan from Rep. Richard Baker (R-LA) to buyout tons of NOLA for $80B. And Baker's a seriously freaky fiscal conservative. This plan may have legs, though. My question is rhetorical when I wonder whether this would be lumped on top of the $62.3B already allocated. Of course it will be. Mind-boggling figures, regardless.
More details on the appalling safety record of the Sago Mine in W.VA. 273 citations in two years. Holy crap. I think that's even more than Lindsey Lohan's gotten.
Speaking of adding insult to injury, Miss Lohan bares much (but sadly not all) in a "Vanity Fair" piece describing her eating disorder, drug use, beastiality, cannibalism and various murder sprees. Or something to that effect. Check it out. Rock on.
I heard that Condi "Does This Pantsuit Make My Ego Look Big?" Rice characterized Ariel Sharon as a "gigantic figure" in the Middle East. Bad move. Don't insult the guy's "glandular problem" when he's fighting for his life. Even if he's a total fatty.
The NYTimes features a plan from Rep. Richard Baker (R-LA) to buyout tons of NOLA for $80B. And Baker's a seriously freaky fiscal conservative. This plan may have legs, though. My question is rhetorical when I wonder whether this would be lumped on top of the $62.3B already allocated. Of course it will be. Mind-boggling figures, regardless.
More details on the appalling safety record of the Sago Mine in W.VA. 273 citations in two years. Holy crap. I think that's even more than Lindsey Lohan's gotten.
Speaking of adding insult to injury, Miss Lohan bares much (but sadly not all) in a "Vanity Fair" piece describing her eating disorder, drug use, beastiality, cannibalism and various murder sprees. Or something to that effect. Check it out. Rock on.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Letterman shows why he's still absolutely necessary
I have never been more impressed with David Letterman than his complete and total shaming of the always despicable Bill O'Reilly last night. I always TiVo Letterman, but I don't give him my full attention often enough. The video clip is all over the web this morning, as it should be. Watch it. Savor just how horribly outclassed O'Reilly was by Dave's humanity. Tell your friends. If you like FOXNews, please admit for once what a mining disaster O'Reilly's persona represents. This just may have been the beginning of the end for O'Reilly. Or so we all should hope.
The allure of the toilet awakes
The West Virginnie mine disaster will focus a moment of outrage on the anti-miner conditions now characterizing the industry. Will it make any difference? Given that the mining industry executive currently running the Bushies' Labor Department Mining Health and Safety Administration (Richard Sickler) and his predecessor (Dave Lauriski) have been so utterly aligned with the bidness side mining, I doubt this will do much except supply People Magazine with some cover-story fodder. This is a terrible, terrible tragedy almost surely the direct fault of the mining company's violation-prone history. But it will soon to be swept aside in favor of sexier stories, to be certain.
Case in point - the Jack Abramoff story is DC's King Kong currently climbing up the tallest TV towers in the land. By coppin' a plea, I'm sure his book deal to come will help to cover whatever sort of lawyerly protection he'll need to dump the dirt he's holding all over the Congress. Should be ugly and utterly delightful to watch for those of us inclined to care about such scandalous insight into the corridors of Power.
Maya just erupted into post-morning nap consciousness. She's really a bundle of fun and games these days. Throwing things in the toilet is her new favorite activity - magazines, socks, bathtub toys. She's really into the "taking out, putting in" activities whether it's the toilet or less enticing containers. Hope your own brood is inclined less toward the water sports. Rock on.
Case in point - the Jack Abramoff story is DC's King Kong currently climbing up the tallest TV towers in the land. By coppin' a plea, I'm sure his book deal to come will help to cover whatever sort of lawyerly protection he'll need to dump the dirt he's holding all over the Congress. Should be ugly and utterly delightful to watch for those of us inclined to care about such scandalous insight into the corridors of Power.
Maya just erupted into post-morning nap consciousness. She's really a bundle of fun and games these days. Throwing things in the toilet is her new favorite activity - magazines, socks, bathtub toys. She's really into the "taking out, putting in" activities whether it's the toilet or less enticing containers. Hope your own brood is inclined less toward the water sports. Rock on.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Favre
Even though Brett Favre's last game was in all likelihood played on Sunday, I didn't get to watch the entirety of it until just now while Maya's down for a nap. We had a New Year's Day brunch on Sunday and most of my prime football watchin' time was spent prepping waffles and making sure everyone's coffee was toasty and delicious. Better late than never when it came to this throwaway effort - the Pack won 23-17 over the Seahags and Favre played throughout until stepping aside on the final play when the error-apparent, Aaron Rogers, took a knee as the TV cameras lustily followed the always classy Favre. I will never be anything but a Packers fan. Period. That's frustratingly genetic and anyone who's got a serious sports affiliation knows exactly of which I speak. But my connection to the Packers I fear will forever be lessened by the loss of Brett Favre. He was my compatriot. We're the same age and he came to prominence as I was leaving college and beginning my own journey 'round the "Country" (his nickname throughout much of his career). To say that he grew into an infinitely classy fellow would be a grand understatement. Brett was an amazing athlete. He took horrifyingly original chances, delighting those of us infuriated by the risk averse. Brett improvised like a homeless shelter kitchen manager. And he looked great doing it even during the worst year of his Hall of Fame career. Or, I should say, he still looked like Brett Favre this year even when he was unintentionally abandoned by a team of mediocre talent and screwed by a coaching staff and front office of inexcusable lameness. When I was home in Wisconsin over Christmas, everyone hoped to avoid discussing what comes next for the Pack even though everyone knows what is coming next. Favre is leaving, and the decade-long hangover will hit almost immediately. To have missed the chance to seriously tie one on while he was still at the Party will be lamented for years and years to come. But I'm not bitter. Hell, I even hope he hangs it up and once-and-for-all shows us all how a truly classy ironman can walk away and not be remorseful. Brett can write his ticket anywhere both in and out of football commentary for the remainder of his lifetime. I just hope he ignores all of those that missed the chance to appreciate his contributions to a great American sports legacy. Walk away healthy, rich and strong. You did a heckuva job, Brett. And for once, that means something real.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Maya uses sign language to comment on her tutu and head-garter-thingie from Auntie Becca.
Maya uses sign language to comment on her tutu and head-garter-thingie from Auntie Becca.
Originally uploaded by emaggie.
Friday, December 30, 2005
Two movie reviews for the price of one - "Brokeback Kong"
We saw "King Kong" a few days ago. Everything you've heard holds true - it's over 3 hours long, the effects are overwhelming, Kong and Ann (Naomi Watts) fall in love, Skull Island has a freakishly diverse ecosystem, the Empire State Building is the setting for a final epic face-off. If you're expecting some sort of new twist (Kong can TALK!), you'll be disappointed. But if you're looking for a amusement ride that's especially thrilling and well-built, Kong's your main monkey. My rating - a strong B-plus. I'd eek it up to an A-ish rating if it didn't feel somewhat bloated. Although I'd not trade the gross-out, creepy-crawly scenes in the Second Act for all the conciseness in the World. Peter Jackson is now officially the rightful heir to the epic director moniker George Lucas has dragged through the mud and worn to shreds over the last decade or so. While my usual appreciation for Adrian Brody was tested mightily by a thankless role and Jack Black over-acted the crap out of his ample frame, Naomi Watts is typically astonishing. She can emote more with just her face than a battalion of eight-headed Cameron Diazs could ever muster. LOVED her in David Lynch's freaky-cool "Mullholland Dr." DOUBLE LOVED her herein.
Even better than a big hairy ape - gay cowboys are cooler than at any time since the first Village People album. "Brokeback Mountain" was touching, stunning to look at, and unflinchingly full of emotion. I'm possibly being unfair, but my rating is an A-minus. The minus only comes from the caveat that the pacing never seemed to break into a full stride. Although the elegiac tone is entirely appropriate. I'm probably one of 37 people on the planet that liked "The Hulk", but here again Ang Lee's skills will rightly regain widespread acclaim. Heath Ledger's half-spoken, half-hidden Western dialect is frickin' cooler than a Windriver Range meltoff stream. Jake Gyllennhallenhagen is more uneven, but I now see he's true to the character portrayed in Annie Proulx's original shortstory (found on a funky coffeetable in the cafe, Muddy Waters, I've come to dig bigtime here in Santa Barbara). The supporting cast is uniformly good. The Wyoming vistas widen your eyes like a gutpunch. The tasteful allusions to the Matthew Sheppard murder in Laramie should be the focus of all those assface conservatives trying to do the reacharound on this movie's real meaning. Even if you've never met a cowboy, we can all imagine some of them being gay. I mean, puul-leeze!, look at their absolutely fabulous clothes. But in all seriousness, do yourself a favor and not only see this movie. Discuss it. Piss off the James Dobsons of the world and consider the truth behind the loneliness in denying your true heart. If you smoke, have a pack ready for after the movie. And nod in unison with the acknowledgement of how powerful a great film can be in making a reluctant society consider its hateful shortcomings.
We're heading back up to San Francisco later this morning. Maya's back on her West Coast schedule and happy as a young dog in the morning surf. No big plans for the New Year on our end. But if you want to be on my Year Ender mailing list, drop me a line. Hope your own plans for the next few daze give '05 the proper sendoff. Rock on.
Even better than a big hairy ape - gay cowboys are cooler than at any time since the first Village People album. "Brokeback Mountain" was touching, stunning to look at, and unflinchingly full of emotion. I'm possibly being unfair, but my rating is an A-minus. The minus only comes from the caveat that the pacing never seemed to break into a full stride. Although the elegiac tone is entirely appropriate. I'm probably one of 37 people on the planet that liked "The Hulk", but here again Ang Lee's skills will rightly regain widespread acclaim. Heath Ledger's half-spoken, half-hidden Western dialect is frickin' cooler than a Windriver Range meltoff stream. Jake Gyllennhallenhagen is more uneven, but I now see he's true to the character portrayed in Annie Proulx's original shortstory (found on a funky coffeetable in the cafe, Muddy Waters, I've come to dig bigtime here in Santa Barbara). The supporting cast is uniformly good. The Wyoming vistas widen your eyes like a gutpunch. The tasteful allusions to the Matthew Sheppard murder in Laramie should be the focus of all those assface conservatives trying to do the reacharound on this movie's real meaning. Even if you've never met a cowboy, we can all imagine some of them being gay. I mean, puul-leeze!, look at their absolutely fabulous clothes. But in all seriousness, do yourself a favor and not only see this movie. Discuss it. Piss off the James Dobsons of the world and consider the truth behind the loneliness in denying your true heart. If you smoke, have a pack ready for after the movie. And nod in unison with the acknowledgement of how powerful a great film can be in making a reluctant society consider its hateful shortcomings.
We're heading back up to San Francisco later this morning. Maya's back on her West Coast schedule and happy as a young dog in the morning surf. No big plans for the New Year on our end. But if you want to be on my Year Ender mailing list, drop me a line. Hope your own plans for the next few daze give '05 the proper sendoff. Rock on.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
The "Year Ender" Countdown Begins...
For those of you that have been wondering what's happened to and the Family Buick over the last week, I'm happy to report that I'm back in California after a healthy and happy Holidaze in unseasonably warm Northern Wisconsin. I was a bit too pleasantly preoccupied with stuffing my face and showing off Maya to get all snarky about the constant drumbeat of goofs from the Bushies over the past few days. I'm sure the NSA is happy to have had me off their watch list up through Festivus. But since I'm psyched to be both back on this horse and supplied with broadband connectivity, I've put up a few pics to start showing Maya's reaction to my homeland's snowy Seasonal beauty. Maya seemed to wholeheartedly sync with the 'Sconi vibe, played well with her cousins, and generally charmed the long underwear off those we encountered along the way. The weather was approximate 60 degrees warmer than last year (highs right around freezing), which allowed for some outside time and no discernible loss of digits. Highlights included a sleighride on a local farm with the whole famn damily, delicious local "delicacies" (venison, pheasant and lutefisk, just to name a few), our traditional Christmas Eve service at my family's Methodist Church in Spirit, Wisconsin (an ACTUAL place, I assure you) and loads of quality time with Grandma, Grandpa, and the whole cheery clan back yonder. At the moment, Maya, Sarah and I are in Santa Barbara, doing the same sort of special bonding with the other side of the Family Tree. Expect plenty of shots from this festive mix to be posted in the next few days to balance the Holidaze punch.
As we're heading to the end o' '05 and prepping for the Delightful Backside of the Aughts that begins in '06, I'm putting a few thoughts together for my Traditional Year Ender Missive meant for family, friends and interested observers. If you'd like to receive a copy or worry that I've lost your email since you got out of jail, send me a quick heads-up to be included in the distribution list. I won't post the Year Ender here, but I'll be happy to include you in this hopefully entertaining summation of '05. And I'll also peg you for future mailings that will showcase all the updated features I've got planned for '06. Hope your own Year End lists are filled with reasons to look forward with unceasing glee. Rock on.
As we're heading to the end o' '05 and prepping for the Delightful Backside of the Aughts that begins in '06, I'm putting a few thoughts together for my Traditional Year Ender Missive meant for family, friends and interested observers. If you'd like to receive a copy or worry that I've lost your email since you got out of jail, send me a quick heads-up to be included in the distribution list. I won't post the Year Ender here, but I'll be happy to include you in this hopefully entertaining summation of '05. And I'll also peg you for future mailings that will showcase all the updated features I've got planned for '06. Hope your own Year End lists are filled with reasons to look forward with unceasing glee. Rock on.
Monday, December 26, 2005
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
One deep eight-tooth laceration for the Road.
Much like the Bushies, I'm trying to turn the other cheek on the whole NSA story for a few days. Not to mention the pesky post-election realities in Iraq - it seems Ayad Allawi's about as graceful in losing elections as Dubya is in winning. But all the necessary parsing of these and the other end o' the Year stories (Bono and the Gates as "TIME" Persons of the Year...are you freakin' nuts?) will have to wait a teensy bit. We're packing up the family caravan and heading to my homeland, the Temporary Home o' Favre, for the Holidaze. Our flight leaves in a few hours. We're going for 5 days, but you'd think we were invading Winnepeg for all we're packing. And as I try to get a post up for you, beloved reader, Maya's making a game of biting my leg. Which makes me glad we picked up that BabyHannibal facemask for the trip. Expect regular updates over the Holidaze. Hope your own stockings are hung with care. Rock on.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Look soulfully into camera...snap fake salute...point at heart...fake having heart...
Am I the only the one that found Dubya's utterly inane speech this evening to be most disturbing because of his perversely moronic sign language? Honestly, have you ever seen someone try so obscenely to accentuate every statement with hand movements? I'll be putting in a call to the American Sign Language folks (who are doin' a heckuva job) tomorrow to see what they have to say about Dubya's bastardization of their beautiful language. Not to mention that of years of abuses directed at the English-speaking citizens of the World. Regardless, if you saw anything new in this speech, you should be the one we rely on to tell Maya about Santa Claus. Because you're able to see what's not there. Gawd bless you. And Gawd bless the U.S.A. (flap, flap, flap...stick finger in air...twirl...repeat...stick finger in throat...cough up soul). Rock on.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Can you hear me now? Bad.
The Bushies hoping to play up the turnout in yesterday's Iraqi election are being tripped up yet again by that darn reality. First of all, good for the 67% of Iraqi voters that got all inky yesterday. We won't know the results in Iraq for a few weeks, and even then it's going to be confusing for basically everyone. And the Bushies have no more artificially-manufactured deadlines anywhere on the calendar in Iraq. Anyone that cared to look beyond the pre-election propaganda knew that already. However, Dubya's signature on a program to spy on American citizens has spun this whole vortex into another direction. In short, the outright criminal nature of the NSA monitoring American citizens is a whole new bowl of wrong to munch on. So now Dubya's got Senators from his own Party calling for hearings while the din of shite-talking on the news channels out both sides of this horrid story has kidnapped the cycle. The details of this anonymously-sourced story are not even close to fully disclosed - that's what will keep it alive for the foreseeable future. Count the PATRIOT Act's indefinite extension out - this NSA story put a stake in that puppy. When we've got revelations that the NSA's tapping phones and reading emails from thousands of American citizens here at home...well, that's the sort of juice that will really light up the switchboards in the District.
Sadly, I'm short on time to bite into today's engorged newz cycle 'cause I'm taking Maya to one of Sarah's work Holidaze midday par-tays. Expect mucho pictures thereafter. Thanks for checking in. Rock on.
Sadly, I'm short on time to bite into today's engorged newz cycle 'cause I'm taking Maya to one of Sarah's work Holidaze midday par-tays. Expect mucho pictures thereafter. Thanks for checking in. Rock on.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Jeff Gannon shifts to a foreign post
Dubya's throwing another mudpie of cliches at the backdrop in DC this morning trying to justify the "stay the course" intransigence we're still stuck with. I just don't have the stomach to parse it. Same bunco, different dayo.
One retread story that I did find interesting came from the once-again surprising USAToday. They lead with better details on the Bushies' plan to plant news in foreign media. The bill thus far has been $300M. As far as freelance gigs go, pretty phat cash. I only wonder how much Jeff Gannon's taken from that kitty.
We rented "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" last night. Loved it. If you're still a virgin, it might give you hope. If you're a slut, it will be an only partly uncomfortable look in the mirror. If you're anywhere in between, you'll see the sweetness throughout unless you're dead inside. My rating - an A-minus. We've not watched all the deleted scenes included in the unrated DVD, but I expect that they will fill in some of the non-sequiter gaps. Steve Carrell is absolutely gut-busting and the cast of goofballs around him split up the hilarity evenly. Catherine Keener's never been sexier. Definitely on my Top 10 list for the year. Rock on.
One retread story that I did find interesting came from the once-again surprising USAToday. They lead with better details on the Bushies' plan to plant news in foreign media. The bill thus far has been $300M. As far as freelance gigs go, pretty phat cash. I only wonder how much Jeff Gannon's taken from that kitty.
We rented "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" last night. Loved it. If you're still a virgin, it might give you hope. If you're a slut, it will be an only partly uncomfortable look in the mirror. If you're anywhere in between, you'll see the sweetness throughout unless you're dead inside. My rating - an A-minus. We've not watched all the deleted scenes included in the unrated DVD, but I expect that they will fill in some of the non-sequiter gaps. Steve Carrell is absolutely gut-busting and the cast of goofballs around him split up the hilarity evenly. Catherine Keener's never been sexier. Definitely on my Top 10 list for the year. Rock on.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Behind closed doors, the Newz never sleeps.
I'm outside of my typical window for putting anything up today, so I appreciate those of you that have checked back for something of mildly justifiable interest. After a full morning of being hilariously antic, Maya's out like a light for a nap. Our little veal-fattening pen of an apartment has one thing in healthy multitudes - doors. So when Maya's down for the count, we shut her behind a few layers of vertical wood, turn on the monitor, and try to get some things done. For me at the moment that means doin' drive-bys on a passel of stories.
There should be no doubt whether the Bushies are having trouble "standing up" the Iraqi government and it's alleged layers of legitimacy when debates about abusing prisoners put our military on the side of restraint. The Baghdad facility discovered last week sounds atrocious. Any time in the future that Condi or Rummy or fiddle-faddlers like Krauthammer defend the use of torture, I hope someone reminds them of this story.
Dubya yesterday estimated that 30,000 Iraqis have died since we showed up. Which tracks with what the folks at Iraqbodycount.org have tabulated. If I weren't so stunned by Dubya's correct-ish response, I'd have more to say. I only wish someone would have asked him how many WMDs had been found.
I saw a bit of the Brian Williams interview with Dubya on the "Today" show this morning. In it Dubya tries to claim that he reads the morning newspaper ("not every article, of course"). What paper, we don't yet know. My bet is the Times. The Washington Times, that is. Aside from the whole Moonies link, Dubya also loves their salient placement of "Marmaduke" and "Hi and Lois" in the midst of their Op-Ed page. Actually, I made that last bit up. But it's at least more plausible than Dubya actually reading the newspaper.
After seeing the Pack limp to victory on Sunday, I now realize that this year's top college player, Reggie Bush, is no longer headed to 'Sconi. But even if the current Packers management had the first pick, I expect they'd pick Billy Bush. Get used to the margins, Packer fans. Because that's where we're gonna be viewing the NFL from in the next decade.
The Guvahnator denied Tookie's clemency. So without any cheesy lines of movie dialogue, we're left with another deathrow vacancy. I can understand that all sorts of people believe in the death penalty. Personally, I think it's shameful. But until someone proves that an innocent person has been executed, most Americans will turn their eyes away from stories like this one. That proof is coming, though. Of that, I'm quite sure.
The Diebold voting machine CEO that promised to deliver Ohio for Dubya has resigned citing "personal reasons". There's plenty of buzz saying that whistleblowers brought fraud to the attention of Diebold's board. Anyone shocked out there? Anyone?!!
The Fed just kicked up interest rates another notch. That's 13 straight hikes, from a low of 1% to 4.25%. So just before Greenspan hands over the reigns, everyone's confused about where our monetary policy is headed. If the Bushies weren't up over their asschaps in Iraqness, I'm sure we'd be hearing daily speeches about how well the economy is doing. As it is, I wish the best to anyone out there trying to figure out just how to invest or plan for the future monetarily. We've put all our money in goats. They're pretty smelly and the depreciation's a bitch. Better than Enron, though.
The British paper "The Independent" offers a pretty ugly tabulation today, which marks the 1000th day of the Debacle in Iraqle (my new nickname - not as inspired as "The Daily Show" tagging it "Mess o' Potamia"...but I'm not out for a Peabody here). Every single one of us should read it. Twice. And then we should all call our Congresspersons and ask if they've read it. And then we should ask why our media organizations aren't marking this tragic milestone in the same way. Denial is not only a river in Egypt, after all.
I've got a list of chores to check off, so I should table some of this ramble for a later date. Thanks so much for reading. I'm really getting some great feedback about what I've thrown up against the wall here at and the Family Buick. And aside from being cheaper than therapy or heroin, that's why I'm doing this. Hope your own progress is regularly noticed by medical professionals. Rock on.
There should be no doubt whether the Bushies are having trouble "standing up" the Iraqi government and it's alleged layers of legitimacy when debates about abusing prisoners put our military on the side of restraint. The Baghdad facility discovered last week sounds atrocious. Any time in the future that Condi or Rummy or fiddle-faddlers like Krauthammer defend the use of torture, I hope someone reminds them of this story.
Dubya yesterday estimated that 30,000 Iraqis have died since we showed up. Which tracks with what the folks at Iraqbodycount.org have tabulated. If I weren't so stunned by Dubya's correct-ish response, I'd have more to say. I only wish someone would have asked him how many WMDs had been found.
I saw a bit of the Brian Williams interview with Dubya on the "Today" show this morning. In it Dubya tries to claim that he reads the morning newspaper ("not every article, of course"). What paper, we don't yet know. My bet is the Times. The Washington Times, that is. Aside from the whole Moonies link, Dubya also loves their salient placement of "Marmaduke" and "Hi and Lois" in the midst of their Op-Ed page. Actually, I made that last bit up. But it's at least more plausible than Dubya actually reading the newspaper.
After seeing the Pack limp to victory on Sunday, I now realize that this year's top college player, Reggie Bush, is no longer headed to 'Sconi. But even if the current Packers management had the first pick, I expect they'd pick Billy Bush. Get used to the margins, Packer fans. Because that's where we're gonna be viewing the NFL from in the next decade.
The Guvahnator denied Tookie's clemency. So without any cheesy lines of movie dialogue, we're left with another deathrow vacancy. I can understand that all sorts of people believe in the death penalty. Personally, I think it's shameful. But until someone proves that an innocent person has been executed, most Americans will turn their eyes away from stories like this one. That proof is coming, though. Of that, I'm quite sure.
The Diebold voting machine CEO that promised to deliver Ohio for Dubya has resigned citing "personal reasons". There's plenty of buzz saying that whistleblowers brought fraud to the attention of Diebold's board. Anyone shocked out there? Anyone?!!
The Fed just kicked up interest rates another notch. That's 13 straight hikes, from a low of 1% to 4.25%. So just before Greenspan hands over the reigns, everyone's confused about where our monetary policy is headed. If the Bushies weren't up over their asschaps in Iraqness, I'm sure we'd be hearing daily speeches about how well the economy is doing. As it is, I wish the best to anyone out there trying to figure out just how to invest or plan for the future monetarily. We've put all our money in goats. They're pretty smelly and the depreciation's a bitch. Better than Enron, though.
The British paper "The Independent" offers a pretty ugly tabulation today, which marks the 1000th day of the Debacle in Iraqle (my new nickname - not as inspired as "The Daily Show" tagging it "Mess o' Potamia"...but I'm not out for a Peabody here). Every single one of us should read it. Twice. And then we should all call our Congresspersons and ask if they've read it. And then we should ask why our media organizations aren't marking this tragic milestone in the same way. Denial is not only a river in Egypt, after all.
I've got a list of chores to check off, so I should table some of this ramble for a later date. Thanks so much for reading. I'm really getting some great feedback about what I've thrown up against the wall here at and the Family Buick. And aside from being cheaper than therapy or heroin, that's why I'm doing this. Hope your own progress is regularly noticed by medical professionals. Rock on.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Sunday, December 11, 2005
"Walk the Line" - with an appearance by the worst Elvis impersonator EVER
Our first choice for a Saturday movie nite while Auntie Becca sat on Maya was "Brokeback Mountain" which opened here this weekend. But it sold out quicker than the plates of rum balls at a Baptist pre-Jesusmas bake sale. So we finally caught "Walk the Line" and I'm glad we did. I'll never be a Joaquin Phoenix fan (his brother, River, got 71% of the natural talent in that family), although he works his fanny off throughout a rather standardized biopic story arc. In fact, the entire flick feels like a nontheless interesting retread of the formula used last year in "Ray". Reese Witherspoon, however, impressed me more than ever. She's the embodiment of perkiness generally, but here showed more range than I've seen. My rating - a strong B - probably is a smidge influenced by my own love of Johnny Cash.
I would be remiss if I didn't join the choruses of tribute to two great Americans who died yesterday. Richard Pryor walked a tough road, as did Eugene McCarthy. They both had guts, they both inspired millions in completely different ways, and they both won my admiration long ago. We need another of that type of McCarthy, given how many of the Joe McCarthy clones we've got running around these days. And Pryor's groundbreaking comedy still could shock some of the shlock out of today's so-called "edgy" entertainers. They both will be missed.
Before I focus on large men in tight pants roughhousing, I have to mention how little I'm surprised by Drudge flinging some Santorum at "Brokeback Mountain" in an attempt to rile up the anti-gay cowboy Conservatives. His posting from yesterday claims that Wyoming's cowboy history included no gay ones and how tourism from Europe to Wyoming is increasing because of the movie. So Europe is full of gay cowboys? I know the GOP attack monkeys love to accuse Old Europe of just about everything. But THAT's a new one by me. Rock on.
I would be remiss if I didn't join the choruses of tribute to two great Americans who died yesterday. Richard Pryor walked a tough road, as did Eugene McCarthy. They both had guts, they both inspired millions in completely different ways, and they both won my admiration long ago. We need another of that type of McCarthy, given how many of the Joe McCarthy clones we've got running around these days. And Pryor's groundbreaking comedy still could shock some of the shlock out of today's so-called "edgy" entertainers. They both will be missed.
Before I focus on large men in tight pants roughhousing, I have to mention how little I'm surprised by Drudge flinging some Santorum at "Brokeback Mountain" in an attempt to rile up the anti-gay cowboy Conservatives. His posting from yesterday claims that Wyoming's cowboy history included no gay ones and how tourism from Europe to Wyoming is increasing because of the movie. So Europe is full of gay cowboys? I know the GOP attack monkeys love to accuse Old Europe of just about everything. But THAT's a new one by me. Rock on.
Friday, December 09, 2005
Fighting the War Here, so we don't have to cover how we're losing it over There.
The Bushies continue to show the same hand this week. Last night on "The News Hour" with Jim Lerher, Rummy repeated their argument that the media is to blame for how the Debacle in Iraq is being discussed. General Abazaid's also recently said the same. So we see yet again from horribly underprepared civilians and generals alike - when all else fails, blame the media. Rinse and repeat. This morning on "Washington Journal" while I tried to cram some breakfast into Maya, I listened to an entire call-in segment from military folks and contractors with experience in Iraq about what they think the media is missing. In other words, Brian Lamb wanted service personnel or people who's livelihood depends on work there to assess how things are really going for the U.S. That's like interviewing fans at Lambeau Field about their secret love for the Vikings - you can pretty much script the response you'll hear. But occasional nuggets of insight came through. Largely that we're facing a simmering civil war that affords us absolutely no chance of winning until we leave. And now Rummy's trying to make news saying that 20,000 troops should be able to come home after next week's election. I'd bet this exit has been rushed to implementation because of recent pressure. I'm sure the Bushies would claim that pressure is invented and driven by the media. And the Orwellian logic spins fast enough to actually separate our heads from our shoulders.
Speaking of that pesky ol' media - this morning's entry in the "So NOW You Tell Me" Sweepstakes breaks down the al Qaeda/Saddam link used by the Bushies throughout the run-up to invading Iraq. Although the informant who gave that bad intelligence has long been discredited, the way that intelligence was gathered hadn't been mentioned until this morning. Well, su-prise, su-prise, su-prise! The Egyptians beat it out of the guy after the CIA used their "rendition" policy to hand him over in 2002. So Dubya used a bundle of coerced lies to help justify an invasion that even Paul "What Me Worry?" Wolfowitz now says shouldn't have happened if there were no WMDs or terrorism links. I still like the gams on the whole "how was this intelligence used by the Bushies" angle. Media, shmedia. This is about history.
Sounds as though most of the Country's dealing with Winter's "Big Time!" arrival. San Francisco is typically temperate and we're heading out for Maya's morning walk. Sorry. Although I do love those first big storms of the winter and we're expecting a cold, white Jesus-mas back in 'Sconi. This well-timed aesthetic blast should kick-start the Holidaze retail sector. We're gonna do our own consumerist cavorting this weekend - I plan to wear a bikini, just because I can. Hope your own lists have been checked and checked twice. Rock on.
Speaking of that pesky ol' media - this morning's entry in the "So NOW You Tell Me" Sweepstakes breaks down the al Qaeda/Saddam link used by the Bushies throughout the run-up to invading Iraq. Although the informant who gave that bad intelligence has long been discredited, the way that intelligence was gathered hadn't been mentioned until this morning. Well, su-prise, su-prise, su-prise! The Egyptians beat it out of the guy after the CIA used their "rendition" policy to hand him over in 2002. So Dubya used a bundle of coerced lies to help justify an invasion that even Paul "What Me Worry?" Wolfowitz now says shouldn't have happened if there were no WMDs or terrorism links. I still like the gams on the whole "how was this intelligence used by the Bushies" angle. Media, shmedia. This is about history.
Sounds as though most of the Country's dealing with Winter's "Big Time!" arrival. San Francisco is typically temperate and we're heading out for Maya's morning walk. Sorry. Although I do love those first big storms of the winter and we're expecting a cold, white Jesus-mas back in 'Sconi. This well-timed aesthetic blast should kick-start the Holidaze retail sector. We're gonna do our own consumerist cavorting this weekend - I plan to wear a bikini, just because I can. Hope your own lists have been checked and checked twice. Rock on.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
"For Hire: Video Artist, with Baggage"
The Air Marshals shooting that dude off his meds on a flight yesterday has caused me to wonder - how would my neighbors who I never talk to characterize me if reporters came a callin'? I just saw a report on the frickin' "Today" show that casually presented neighborly comments for this poor sucker as "worked at a home supply store, did missionary work, and was quiet and friendly." Aside from the cooling effect Mr. Alpizar might have on missionary recruitment, he got some kind words. Mine might be more of the "always pushed a baby stroller" or "no noticably offensive smells" or hopefully "had a vivacious gait". Or more likely "never gave a damn about crossing the Street outside the crosswalk" and "always fiddling with an iPod like a madman." Regardless, I hope we all take this to heart and are nice to a bitchy neighbor today. Even the ones we fear may be cooking the flesh off skulls or holding Bible Study meetings in their basements.
This morning's guilty media junkie pleasure - the mess with the insensitive cop Jesus-mas Party video. I haven't seen the whole thing, but what I've screened has pretty high production value and adequate direction. The scene where the cop runs over an African-American homeless person of ambiguous gender was pretty tight. Some of these suspended cops may have a future.
Maya's digging the space heater - sleeping like a drunk with a fresh case of Listerine. And while the rain fell yesterday afternoon, she was talkative and positively psyched to be out in the Girl in the Plastic Bubble BOB. Actually, getting her out of the apartment is more essential now than ever since she started crawling everywhere and standing up with the aid of any piece of furniture. I've fashioned something of a pillowy den for her in the living room, blocking the exits with Gitmo (her playpen) and some finally-utilized throw pillows we've been moving from place to place with us for years. A few tumbles daily, but all seemingly in good or easily correctible humor. So my ears are also up for all the stories of child development studies or helpful hintyness - kinda like how a decade ago I was always on the lookout for stories about cooking with ketchup or hot spots for the sweatiest dive bar with cheap Rainier pints. Anyhoo, heard one on NPR this morning about getting a 9-month versus 10-month-old baby to follow your gaze with your eyes open and then closed. At around 10 months, normally developing kids begin to notice when your eyes are closed and then don't necessarily blindly (pun intended) follow your direction of gaze. Fascinating, in a very narrow sense. Brains developing are cool, Beavis. Heh, heh. Rock on.
This morning's guilty media junkie pleasure - the mess with the insensitive cop Jesus-mas Party video. I haven't seen the whole thing, but what I've screened has pretty high production value and adequate direction. The scene where the cop runs over an African-American homeless person of ambiguous gender was pretty tight. Some of these suspended cops may have a future.
Maya's digging the space heater - sleeping like a drunk with a fresh case of Listerine. And while the rain fell yesterday afternoon, she was talkative and positively psyched to be out in the Girl in the Plastic Bubble BOB. Actually, getting her out of the apartment is more essential now than ever since she started crawling everywhere and standing up with the aid of any piece of furniture. I've fashioned something of a pillowy den for her in the living room, blocking the exits with Gitmo (her playpen) and some finally-utilized throw pillows we've been moving from place to place with us for years. A few tumbles daily, but all seemingly in good or easily correctible humor. So my ears are also up for all the stories of child development studies or helpful hintyness - kinda like how a decade ago I was always on the lookout for stories about cooking with ketchup or hot spots for the sweatiest dive bar with cheap Rainier pints. Anyhoo, heard one on NPR this morning about getting a 9-month versus 10-month-old baby to follow your gaze with your eyes open and then closed. At around 10 months, normally developing kids begin to notice when your eyes are closed and then don't necessarily blindly (pun intended) follow your direction of gaze. Fascinating, in a very narrow sense. Brains developing are cool, Beavis. Heh, heh. Rock on.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
"Sod is hard work - kinda like freedom."
Dubya's gave another speech this morning before the Council on Foreign Relations trying to tie the Iraqi debacle to not only 9/11 but the anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. Timing, after all, is everything in politics. And abusing tragic timing is Rule #1 if you're in power, as we've seen time and time again from Dubya. He's trying to put a good face on everything that's gone wrong by pointing out that Iraqis now have 3 million cellphones. And a new soccer field ("with new sod") in Najaf. Amazingly, Dubya's admitted early on that reconstruction has begun with "fits and starts". Love the antiquated cliche` - so drip-coffee-and-a-bear-claw-in-Crawford. But the willingness to recycle old justifications make this just more of the same propaganda. The most telling passage was lifted from one of the many references to Senator Liberman's support of the Debacle. "He's got Joementum!" apparently said that it was important to point out to the American people that the "plan" has not remained "stubbornly still, but has changed over the years." Parse that out and you've got loads to work with. My brain pivots on the "over the years" admission, moreso than the "stubbornly still" Freudian alliteration. In other words, for all the spinning, spinning, spinning to keep this from turning into a rhetorical trip down the Ho Chi Minh Trail, the Bushies have failed miserably. Will this speech change a single iota of the discontent that's now inherent in any mention of Iraq? If you think so, I'd love to forward you some emails I've been receiving for years from lawyers of my dead distant relatives. Apparently, just as in the continued justification of the Debacle by the Dubya, I'm much better off than I realize as this tragedy unfolds.
Over the last week, Maya took an unwelcome turn from consistently sleeping through the night to what I realize is babyish normalness. And for once, it seems as though our Sherlock Holmesy reaction was appropriate. Her room was too cold. Hypothermia can occur even in California apartments. Sarah likes to see her breath when she gets up to pee in the middle of the night. I no longer have any feeling in my extremities. Yada yada yada. So we got a space heater yesterday for Maya's room and she slept through last night in cozy bliss, we're happy to report. Of course, I went with the coal-fired model, so black lung is a risk. But just as in Dubya's decision to go into Iraq, I believe that criticism of my solution is not appropriate at this time in our Nation's history.
Lots more to catch up on. Back soon. Rock on.
Over the last week, Maya took an unwelcome turn from consistently sleeping through the night to what I realize is babyish normalness. And for once, it seems as though our Sherlock Holmesy reaction was appropriate. Her room was too cold. Hypothermia can occur even in California apartments. Sarah likes to see her breath when she gets up to pee in the middle of the night. I no longer have any feeling in my extremities. Yada yada yada. So we got a space heater yesterday for Maya's room and she slept through last night in cozy bliss, we're happy to report. Of course, I went with the coal-fired model, so black lung is a risk. But just as in Dubya's decision to go into Iraq, I believe that criticism of my solution is not appropriate at this time in our Nation's history.
Lots more to catch up on. Back soon. Rock on.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Friday, December 02, 2005
"Happy Holidays from the TSA. Now spread your ass cheeks and cough."
My "this story MUST have some legs, puul-leeze!" department for the day - the TSA just outlined how they are relaxing restrictions on small knives, scissors and the like. But to balance it out, they're planning loads more random searches. Oh, and they're putting the changes into effect December 22nd, just in time for Holidaze travel. Just another day in BizarroWorld under Dubya. There have to be legs here because everyone who travels knows that the TSA sucks. The variability in standards from airport to airport alone should be a scandal (as young parents travelling with a munchkin and gate-checking a stroller, take our word for it). But now the Bushies' Homeland Security braintrust is going to allow the instruments used in the 9/11 hijackings back on board planes? Undeniably bad policy. If one thing is universal in the understanding of travelers today it is that you don't pack crap like Swiss Army knives in your carry-on bags. To change that will only be more confusing, won't speed along the lines which are the real complaint of most this time of year, and will show just how incompetent this era of Goverment has proven to be. Maybe airport security is impossible to fully manage. The things we know for certain can hurt us should nonetheless be verboten, hands down.
San Francisco had a real soaker yesterday. We put the rainguard on the BOB, and let Maya play the Girl in the Plastic Bubble through it all. She crashed hard, in no small part due to the gusty winds. The sun's back out today after a crisp 45-degree morning so we're headed back out for a walk. Hope your own trails slant in the right direction. Rock on.
San Francisco had a real soaker yesterday. We put the rainguard on the BOB, and let Maya play the Girl in the Plastic Bubble through it all. She crashed hard, in no small part due to the gusty winds. The sun's back out today after a crisp 45-degree morning so we're headed back out for a walk. Hope your own trails slant in the right direction. Rock on.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Maya's latest Tale o' the Tape
Maya had her 9-month check-up yesterday. The pediatrician says Maya's "thriving" and her measurements are now all at least in the 75th percentile for munchkins of her ilk. The tale of the tape is as follows:
Height - 28 1/2 inches
Weight - 20 lb., 2 oz.
Hatsize - 45 and something something (90th percentile, so I'm not worried)
Two shots didn't even really bother her much beyond when we'd gotten back out on the Street. Maya's chillin' in Gitmo for the moment, laying waste to the pile of toys she's sitting amidst. It's almost like the garbage compactor scene from the first "Star Wars" where everyone's wondering what might be lurking below. For short periods she'll tolerate Gitmo, but she's all over when she's out on parole. We need to babyproof. Big time.
No news worth harping on today. Lots of angles offered about Dubya's speech yesterday. All of them make me yawn. Journalism is very much the first draft of history. Especially in this instance. Rock on.
Height - 28 1/2 inches
Weight - 20 lb., 2 oz.
Hatsize - 45 and something something (90th percentile, so I'm not worried)
Two shots didn't even really bother her much beyond when we'd gotten back out on the Street. Maya's chillin' in Gitmo for the moment, laying waste to the pile of toys she's sitting amidst. It's almost like the garbage compactor scene from the first "Star Wars" where everyone's wondering what might be lurking below. For short periods she'll tolerate Gitmo, but she's all over when she's out on parole. We need to babyproof. Big time.
No news worth harping on today. Lots of angles offered about Dubya's speech yesterday. All of them make me yawn. Journalism is very much the first draft of history. Especially in this instance. Rock on.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Plan For Victory #437 - Free Health Club memberships after only 6 months of Service!
Dubya's latest smirky John Wayne speech ran this morning to accompany the Bushies' newly published Iraq plan (35 pages!). I'm watching with a slight delay thanks to morning mayhem from Maya. So few points stick out of Dubya's usual blather, but here's a few on the fly...
Dubya just called a major group of our enemies in Iraq "rejectionists". Yes, and the "bomberists" and "Baathistists" are also trouble. Rejectionists were effectively defined as Sunnis that feel left out of the democratic success Iraq is experiencing. Dubya looked to his script almost throughout. So this is obviously part of the so-called newness of this speech.
Dubya pushin' WhiteHouse.gov for the Iraq plan - look there for all the latest secret plans from the Bushies. And the new Barney Christmas vid.
Mention was made of "career development courses" for the Iraqi military's officers. Look, I'm all for a well-rounded soldier. But, COME ON! Just train them to shoot and run things.
"Stand up, stand down...stand up, stand down." Dubya sounds as though he's calling a game of Simon Sez on the "Battle of the Network Stars" back in the 70s.
Dubya sums up the Dems by saying "Senator Liberman" on three occasions. I'd wager that's at least once more than Joe heard it over the two-week Thanksgiving break.
When Dubya got around to the "vigorous debate" from the hypothetical soldier's POV, he actually looked pissed. Something's unsettling about this man's self-confidence.
In the end, nothing new at all. Lots of hooey dealing with the daily life of an Iraqi soldier. "Timelines are for pussies. Freedom. Hard work. Terror (as one syllable). And may Gawd continue to bless the USA." Ppppppffffffffft. We're all so completely screwed.
Maya's gotten into some stereo cords and DVDs so I'd better separate her from her quarry. Hope your own shelves stay organized. Rock on.
Dubya just called a major group of our enemies in Iraq "rejectionists". Yes, and the "bomberists" and "Baathistists" are also trouble. Rejectionists were effectively defined as Sunnis that feel left out of the democratic success Iraq is experiencing. Dubya looked to his script almost throughout. So this is obviously part of the so-called newness of this speech.
Dubya pushin' WhiteHouse.gov for the Iraq plan - look there for all the latest secret plans from the Bushies. And the new Barney Christmas vid.
Mention was made of "career development courses" for the Iraqi military's officers. Look, I'm all for a well-rounded soldier. But, COME ON! Just train them to shoot and run things.
"Stand up, stand down...stand up, stand down." Dubya sounds as though he's calling a game of Simon Sez on the "Battle of the Network Stars" back in the 70s.
Dubya sums up the Dems by saying "Senator Liberman" on three occasions. I'd wager that's at least once more than Joe heard it over the two-week Thanksgiving break.
When Dubya got around to the "vigorous debate" from the hypothetical soldier's POV, he actually looked pissed. Something's unsettling about this man's self-confidence.
In the end, nothing new at all. Lots of hooey dealing with the daily life of an Iraqi soldier. "Timelines are for pussies. Freedom. Hard work. Terror (as one syllable). And may Gawd continue to bless the USA." Ppppppffffffffft. We're all so completely screwed.
Maya's gotten into some stereo cords and DVDs so I'd better separate her from her quarry. Hope your own shelves stay organized. Rock on.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
"It was better than coating snowballs with Mom and throwing her at the sidelines."
Seymour Hersh's Iraq/Bushies coverage for "The New Yorker" has reached a platform that any news at all from him merits attention. Nothing HUGE in his latest Dubya shakedown this week - focuses on his self-perceived "divine mission" in Iraq. Startling, nonetheless. But much more disturbing is the insight provided by anonymous Generals that will speak to only Sy saying that they're entirely pessimistic and underequipped. Worthwhile reading for those of you that give a rip about your country.
Randy "Duke" Cunningham broke down yesterday like a disgraced sorority sister who'd embezzled all the proceeds from an annual wet t-shirt contest to spend on a full set of American Doll collectibles. The Dukester was disgraced by pleading guilty to taking $2.4M in bribes. By being forced to eat his own past defenses. And by losing essentially everything in the process. For a big fat GOP hawk with a reputation as a flyboy that some claim was the basis for the homoerotic cheese-arama movie "Top Gun", having the news break that he'll need to forfeit his fancy antique French furniture probably hurts worse. Included is a 19th Century crapper (valued at $7200). The Dukester's District in San Diego is solidly Republican, but I can already imagine the ads that one could flush out of this story.
Dubya's trying to change the subject from his full-blanketing of bad newsiness to...immigration policy? It's obvious that the Bushies think we're all incredibly stupid and easily distracted. And many of their friends have already taken the bait and written front-page stories and ominous editorials about our "broken borders" or whatever Frank Luntz-quality talking point they've agreed to use. Is immigration a problem? Sure. But I smell a dusted-off speech being chosen thanks to desperate polling by the Bushies over the TurkeyDay holiday.
About the only moment of real excitement in the Packers' latest horrid loss to the Philly Iggles on Sunday was when a goofball ran to the 30-yard line and laid down spread-eagle. Now it turns out he was spreading his cremated Mother's remains. Some futile, ballsy gestures can be sweet. These people are just cracked.
Back home in SF, Maya's already testing the childproofishness of our apartment. This whole full crawling mobility thing has its downside, I'm sure. Her Highness is now calling for assistance in her crib after a delightful early morning nap (after waking up at 5am). She's such a freakin' good kid. Hope all your own cabinets are locked up tight. Rock on.
Randy "Duke" Cunningham broke down yesterday like a disgraced sorority sister who'd embezzled all the proceeds from an annual wet t-shirt contest to spend on a full set of American Doll collectibles. The Dukester was disgraced by pleading guilty to taking $2.4M in bribes. By being forced to eat his own past defenses. And by losing essentially everything in the process. For a big fat GOP hawk with a reputation as a flyboy that some claim was the basis for the homoerotic cheese-arama movie "Top Gun", having the news break that he'll need to forfeit his fancy antique French furniture probably hurts worse. Included is a 19th Century crapper (valued at $7200). The Dukester's District in San Diego is solidly Republican, but I can already imagine the ads that one could flush out of this story.
Dubya's trying to change the subject from his full-blanketing of bad newsiness to...immigration policy? It's obvious that the Bushies think we're all incredibly stupid and easily distracted. And many of their friends have already taken the bait and written front-page stories and ominous editorials about our "broken borders" or whatever Frank Luntz-quality talking point they've agreed to use. Is immigration a problem? Sure. But I smell a dusted-off speech being chosen thanks to desperate polling by the Bushies over the TurkeyDay holiday.
About the only moment of real excitement in the Packers' latest horrid loss to the Philly Iggles on Sunday was when a goofball ran to the 30-yard line and laid down spread-eagle. Now it turns out he was spreading his cremated Mother's remains. Some futile, ballsy gestures can be sweet. These people are just cracked.
Back home in SF, Maya's already testing the childproofishness of our apartment. This whole full crawling mobility thing has its downside, I'm sure. Her Highness is now calling for assistance in her crib after a delightful early morning nap (after waking up at 5am). She's such a freakin' good kid. Hope all your own cabinets are locked up tight. Rock on.
Monday, November 28, 2005
"Give me the 'Day in Your Boots' Tour, Soldier..."
I notice more and more Congressmanly cheeseballs that love to boast "just got back from Iraq, and the troops told me..." But I imagine lots of upcoming tours being reconsidered after a vehicle full o' backbenchers rolled over on the way to the Baghdad Airport. Two hurt. Four adult diapers gravely sullied in DC. I'll be watching this one like a cop eyein' the last jelly.
Movie audiences are obviously starved for any sort of distraction if the new Harry Potter passed $400M world-wide in 10 days. Horrid filmmaking by committee. As a result, I downgrade my earlier review to a D-plus. And equally at fault are the waves of crap being offered by Big Hollywood these days. No wonder video games are so monstrously popular - at least the storylines have some appeal. At this rate, the new "King Kong" will bust every Box Office record within sight. The trailers are movieCrack. You just want MORE immediately.
We're back up to SF later this morning and hope that Maya's been well-timed for a hearty nap. Santa Barbara's been freakin' bedazzling the last few days. Clear as glass skies, and I saw the sunrise this morning without a cloud in the sky. Before dawn, the crescent moon's dark side was wholly visible. Maya's going to miss the wide open spaces at Nanna and Poppy's house. Our little SF veal-fattening pen for her is a different story. Time to start letting Maya get really dirty in the Park. No offense to all entering winter (my parents back in Wisconsin had 4-below-zero Thanksgiving morning). But having the outside option as we enter December is one of the reasons this part of the world is so lovable. Rock on.
Movie audiences are obviously starved for any sort of distraction if the new Harry Potter passed $400M world-wide in 10 days. Horrid filmmaking by committee. As a result, I downgrade my earlier review to a D-plus. And equally at fault are the waves of crap being offered by Big Hollywood these days. No wonder video games are so monstrously popular - at least the storylines have some appeal. At this rate, the new "King Kong" will bust every Box Office record within sight. The trailers are movieCrack. You just want MORE immediately.
We're back up to SF later this morning and hope that Maya's been well-timed for a hearty nap. Santa Barbara's been freakin' bedazzling the last few days. Clear as glass skies, and I saw the sunrise this morning without a cloud in the sky. Before dawn, the crescent moon's dark side was wholly visible. Maya's going to miss the wide open spaces at Nanna and Poppy's house. Our little SF veal-fattening pen for her is a different story. Time to start letting Maya get really dirty in the Park. No offense to all entering winter (my parents back in Wisconsin had 4-below-zero Thanksgiving morning). But having the outside option as we enter December is one of the reasons this part of the world is so lovable. Rock on.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Cole Hauser in..."The Underneathening"
As a part of our TurkeyDaze film festin', I'll give "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" a C-minus. Rote, formulaic filmmaking from a sprawling story that was largely adhered to in an effort to prevent the revolt of TrueFans. Lame. Most geeky Potterheads will probably have much to complain about as examples of inappropriate edits from that story. Those of us that are less obsessive will have WAY too much time in this Chapter (2:30 running time, felt like 5:30) to be distracted by unintended funny bits. Like how the actor that plays Ron Weasley looks so much like a young Danny Bonaduce I want to suggest pre-emptive rehab. Or how when Voldemort was finally revealed (played by a quickly recognized Ralph Fiennes), it appeared that his look was stolen from the lead singer of Midnight Oil. Many reviewers have been rather creepy about this coming of age turn for the main characters. I was just bored by the glaring lack of spark, even when those lead characters are charmingly authentic. I believe that by far the best Potter movie was the Third. There's just something about this magical material that pleads for a darker, sillier Director's touch. This floppy turn will still make a bazillion dollars. A bit of inspiration would have been nice, though.
After the movie last night, we scrambled for parking close to the restaurant we'd chosen (Taiko - unpretentious, delicious Japanese). While driving around, I recognized the actor Cole Hauser getting into a car with a friend. He's never gotten close to the likability of his role in "Dazed and Confused" as the white, beer-drinkin', pick-up drivin' football chum. Since then, he's segwayed into crappy thrillers. I then jokingly tried to remember the title of the latest action dud he starred in. I came up with many possibilities, including (use the most faux-bombastic voice possible) - Cole Hauser in "Deep Crevass"..."Hell Lives Below"..."There's Something Down There..."..."Stalag-Fright!"..."Dark Blackness"...they're all good. Or at least they're better than the actual title ("The Cave"). If you're reading, Cole - give me a jingle. I've been thinking and I've got a buncha ideas that would be perfect for you. We should do lunch. Rock on.
After the movie last night, we scrambled for parking close to the restaurant we'd chosen (Taiko - unpretentious, delicious Japanese). While driving around, I recognized the actor Cole Hauser getting into a car with a friend. He's never gotten close to the likability of his role in "Dazed and Confused" as the white, beer-drinkin', pick-up drivin' football chum. Since then, he's segwayed into crappy thrillers. I then jokingly tried to remember the title of the latest action dud he starred in. I came up with many possibilities, including (use the most faux-bombastic voice possible) - Cole Hauser in "Deep Crevass"..."Hell Lives Below"..."There's Something Down There..."..."Stalag-Fright!"..."Dark Blackness"...they're all good. Or at least they're better than the actual title ("The Cave"). If you're reading, Cole - give me a jingle. I've been thinking and I've got a buncha ideas that would be perfect for you. We should do lunch. Rock on.
Maya prefers to use chopsticks on her Cheerios whenever possible
Originally uploaded by emaggie.
Friday, November 25, 2005
Just when you thought the Brownie was done...
Looking for that special, utterly useless gift for a State, Municipality or corporation that has everything? Michael "Heckuva Job!" Brown has started a disaster preparedness consulting business (cleverly named Michael D. Brown LLC). Seriously. So if you're looking to displace and kill thousands, waste billions or just scare the beejeezus out of your constituents, Brownie's got a plan for you. He's relocated to the Boulder, CO area to drive into the ground, er, lay roots for this new venture just in time for Holidaze shopping. And according to an interview he gave to the Rocky Mountain News, he's not really troubled by the aftermath of Katrina. As he so importantly stated, "I'm doing a lot of good work with some great clients...My wife, children and my grandchild still love me. My parents are still proud of me." No word on how Brownie's pets feel about him. Probably because he abandoned them back in Virginia.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
"Crazed Balloon, Attacks Lamp!"
Yet another annual story got dusted off following the Macy's Day Parade. "Two people injured" wouldn't usually merit much coverage. But this one's got zing (to be unabashedly sensationalistic). The two injuries were sisters. One was 26, the other 11 and in a wheelchair. Yup. That's what I'm seeing thus far. So it's probably not a chill Thanksgiving in Katie Couric or Larry King's kitchen. "Too many calls to take, Baby!" Or something shamefully to that effect.
It's been a relatively idyllic Thanksgiving in Santa Barbara. The streets are deserted, though. And I'm at a downtown coffeehouse after a warm, oddly foggy run along the beach earlier. The fog came in, then the winds whipped it away as quickly as it came. Sun in between, a bit warmer than usual. I'm reminded of Sandburg's Fog and the lead about "cat feet." Different, but evocative nonetheless. A great beginning to a day. Rock on.
It's been a relatively idyllic Thanksgiving in Santa Barbara. The streets are deserted, though. And I'm at a downtown coffeehouse after a warm, oddly foggy run along the beach earlier. The fog came in, then the winds whipped it away as quickly as it came. Sun in between, a bit warmer than usual. I'm reminded of Sandburg's Fog and the lead about "cat feet." Different, but evocative nonetheless. A great beginning to a day. Rock on.
A mostly full "Jarhead"
Over our TurkeyDaze break, we're trying to catch up on some of the recent film releases that we've not had the chance to see with our nearly 9-month-old munchkin in tow. Yesterday's feature - "Jarhead" - started things off on a debatably high platform. My rating is a squishy B-minus (I could go higher). While I've not read Anthony Swofford's book, I was impressed and engaged on many levels. The cast is solid, with Jake Jello-and-Marshmallows-en-hall and Peter SARS-ain't-so-bad-but-still-be-on-Gard leading the way. The lunacy shown in the lead-up to pseudo-War isn't exactly new ("Full Metal Jacket" did it better) and the manic partying shown as release isn't either (likewise in "Platoon"). Nonetheless, the crazy juxtaposition of the first Persian Gulf War with what we're currently experiencing in Iraq makes for good pondering. The visuals, especially of the oil well fires and lots of fit, sweaty boy toys, are fab. The madness of our overwhelming firepower being used on such a paper tiger (then or now) is disconcerting. But seeing our young men driven right to the brink of insanity before being dumped back into the real world is the most powerful punch I think this piece of work delivers.
On Nanna and Poppy's hardwood floors, Maya's taken to a much farther ranging style of scooting - both forward and backward. She's screaming up a storm at the moment, echoing off the walls and getting everyone motivated to take her outside for a run/walk. Hope your own pre-gobble gobble activities are equally boisterous. Rock on.
On Nanna and Poppy's hardwood floors, Maya's taken to a much farther ranging style of scooting - both forward and backward. She's screaming up a storm at the moment, echoing off the walls and getting everyone motivated to take her outside for a run/walk. Hope your own pre-gobble gobble activities are equally boisterous. Rock on.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
A Bubp leads to an increasingly stinky Schmidt
Time for us all to take out our tiny violins - Rep. Jean "Did I EVER Step In" Schmidt is all over the news this morning complaining about the treatment she's received after her "cowards run" speech in the House last week. But that's only because the Marine Colonel she claimed as an opponent of Murtha's call for redeployment vehemently denies ever saying such things to ol' Mean Jean. The Cincinnati Enquirer was the first to bother tracking down her Marine - a GOP Ohio state Rep and Marine Reserve officer with the vaguely scatalogical name, Danny Bubp. Apparently, Bubp (excuse me) campaigned for Schmidt in his Marine uniform and is an entirely loyal pro-war GOPer. Unlike the decidedly chickenhawky Schmidt, he says he would never think of criticising a fellow Marine. Yet instead of giving a better defense for her House floor lies, Schmidt is hiding from the media and offered up the following flag-waver yesterday - "First and foremost, I support the troops. They dodge bullets and bombs while I duck only hateful words." In the famous tone of Nelson from "The Simpsons" I can only offer the following - "ha ha!"
Time for a run along the beach and the beginnings of a beautiful day in Santa Barbara. Maya handled the after-dark drive down from SF with quiet dignity, but she's now down for a nap. Hope all your own travels today are followed by equally restful respite. Rock on Rock on.
Time for a run along the beach and the beginnings of a beautiful day in Santa Barbara. Maya handled the after-dark drive down from SF with quiet dignity, but she's now down for a nap. Hope all your own travels today are followed by equally restful respite. Rock on Rock on.
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