Partnership for an Idiot-Free America

Some of you may remember this from a car commercial some years back. It just reminds me of warm summer nights. Nice and mellow.

Enjoy, courtesy of Nick Drake.

I'm the kind of girl who does things in spurts. When that light-bulb of inspiration goes off, may the universe help humankind. I sprint to my kill, make haste at gobbling up all manner of chewy, murdered flesh and when sated beside my glistening carcass--like a lioness after a hearty, blood-soaked meal--I take a long, lingering, happy, fat nap--dreaming of what may spark my next adventure.

The trouble with all this? Periods of said inspiration are growing longer and longer in between. In this sense, I have been currently regaled a steady binge-diet of the Asshattery-Du-Jour over at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue or worse, the cold, prickly needle of local and international horrors we call "World News".

Sure, you feel full, high even--the rage rush alone is enough to fool you into some state of fucked-up nirvana; but in the end, you wind up sweaty on the toilet praying to pass something, nay ANYTIHNG, solid.

Aha! Not so today!!!

My good people. I have a new literary crush!

At first glance you might not even notice Sarah Vowell. She's the kind of woman you'd see off in a corner, cracking up Conan O'Brien; not the type of woman you'd see trolloping it up on the arm of say, Conan the Barbarian. A regular contributor to This American Life on Chicago Public Radio, she is author, radio personality--movie star (if you count the voice of teen superhero Violet Parr in the animated Pixar flick, The Incredibles).

I first remember hearing Sarah (see, I'm pretending we're friends already) by complete accident. A pal of mine, Dennis Cass--an amazing writer in his own--uh right (Harpers, The Slate, The New York Times Mag), was to orate the wonderful story of how he met his wife, Liz, on This American Life one Valentine's Day. Well, it so happened that Johnny Cash had just died and rather than play my pal, DC's piece, they opted to run Sarah Vowell's magnum opus and encomium to the awe-inspiring love story that was the Cash's. (If you click the link, scroll to Act III)

At first befuddled and annoyed, I became transfixed, lulled-even by her uniquely non-radio, radio voice. In a simple, lispy, yet epically impassioned soliloquy she transported me to Tennessee in 1956 where Johnny and June met; through his various trials with drugs; to the remake of her Ring of Fire; right on through to their respective deaths in 2003.

I remember being gobsmacked so. Simultaneously frozen with delight and boiled by jealousy, I have became equal parts Snowmiser/Heatmiser as I compare our respective talents.

Many, many months ago (years probably), I caught Sarah one eve during an episode of Late Night With Conan O'Brien. Ms. Vowell was peddling her newest book, Assassination Vacation, a composite of essays concerning the oddballness of the untimely deaths of Presidents Lincoln, Garfield and McKinley. You could tell this wasn't your average, dry-as-sawdust foray into American history. THIS was a wisecracking pilgrimage to the off-beat, road-side-attractions-of-certain-death!

I had to have it!

In fact, I think I finished Assassination Vacation in about a day in a half, and that was with the absurd interruptions of work and food and having to relieve my bladder.

This charmingly odd, yet entirely fun and readable book is chock full of surprises, not the least of which is Robert Todd Lincoln's (Abe's son) bizarre proximity to each of the assassinations. In addition, Vowell's storytelling and cast of characters is as colorful as a Confederate quilt. Since she doesn't drive, Sarah's primary mode of transport is bumming rides off her friends and family. My personal shot-gun hero is her twin (fraternal) sister's 4 year-old son, Owen, who has been ignited with the dark and smirky flame of his aunt. Vowell lovingly refers to him as being "Hitchcockian" and offers this anecdote:

...He knows maybe ninety words and one of them is 'crypt'...He's truly morbid. When he broke his collarbone by falling down some stairs he was playing on, an emergency room nurse tried to comfort him by giving him a cuddly stuffed lamb to play with. My sister, hoping to prompt a 'thank you,' asked him, 'What do you say, Owen?' He handed back the lamb, informing the nurse, 'I like spooky stuff.'

Perhaps you need to read this book to understand why none of this should alarm you; or because you otherwise deplore learning about history; or further still because everyone should take the opportunity to peer inside the window of a true American Patriot, one who is so in love with her country, she's willing to question and muse on its deeds and peculiarities.

I have to admit, part of me wishes Sarah Vowell would run for president. We could use someone like her--wisecracking and quirky (and not in a hillbilly, c-student kind of way) and someone so interested in our historic details, she daren't repeat our foibles. I for one, under the right circumstances, might even consider taking a bullet for her, just so she'd have another plaque to visit and write about.

S. Vowell's Assassination Vacation, Buy it here!

Marshmallows, Clowns and Jesus! (aka: Madness Combat 3-Avenger)

Yeah, I don't know what to say about this either.

In yet another staggering display of infuriating ineptitude, The Evil One managed to tap dance around the issue of global warming today by feigning interest and offering a hollow, non-commitment-commitment to the rising crisis.

"So my proposal is this: By the end of next year, America and other nations will set a long-term global goal for reducing greenhouse gases. To develop this goal, the United States will convene a series of meetings of nations that produce the most greenhouse gases, including nations with rapidly growing economies like India and China.

"Each country would establish midterm management targets and programs that reflect their own mix of energy sources and future energy needs," he said. "In the course of the next 18 months, our nations will bring together industry leaders from different sectors of our economies, such as power generation, and alternative fuels and transportation."

OK, so by December 30th, 2008, Bush plans to set a long-term goal for reducing greenhouse gases? Where do I even start?!

Forget about the fact that Bush will be halfway out the door of 1600 Penn Avenue by then, why in God's name would anybody believe this fucking idiot? Look at all this frigging time he's squandered refusing to participate in the Kyoto Protocol and the G8 proposal calling for an increase in global temperatures of no more than 2 degrees Celsius after Kyoto's period runs out in 2012!

It's unfathomable how, despite concrete evidence from scientists around the world, Bush has done NOTHING to serve the environment. There was that miserable cherade of the Clear Skies Act, but we all know that was and is a massive load of horse-shit. Then there was the mess surrounding the approval to drill for oil in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (got kiboshed, thankfully). The list just fucking goes on..and on..and on.

For someone as Evangelical and 'God Fearin' as this loathsome asshole says he is, I'm shocked that he wouldn't be out there blazing the trail to show other countries that reducing emissions can bolster both national and local economies by creating new industries, new jobs, and invite new tax relief--all while helping sustain this pretty planet. Why the fuck wouldn't you want to do that? Isn't shepherding flocks what those loonies love to do? I mean, come on. If fucking Brazil could do it? Jesus Christ on a recycled Popsicle stick!

As far as my eye can see, all this fuck-wad is doing is dodging having to do anything until such time as he can run like hell back to Crawford, TX and start taking cold cash for speaking engagements at Liberty University.

All I know is that when this planet is frying like bacon, I'm gonna grab that pig by his white collar, throw him on a spit and feed his slow-roasted ass to what's left of the polar bears.

What a douche-bag.

One week after the testimony of former Department of Justice (DOJ) aide, Monica Goodling, revealed that "hiring practices were improperly tainted by politics," our good friends at the DOJ have finally seen fit to perhaps, uh, investigate said practices.

I mean, why have checks-and-balances in place when we can all just sit around and wait until the entire fabric of democracy-as-we-know-it shreds into a dubious, fascist state? Let's just see if we can't, you know, slip America this mickey and hope no one notices...

The alarming part of all of this is most Americans seem caught unawares that they have been guzzling GHB-tainted milk straight from their mother's teet and further that the foundation for the "system" they are taking for granted is slowly being replaced by quicksand.

How can we expect our citizens to wake up if they don't even know they are asleep? We are a country, not malnourished of information, but malnourished in the ways information is communicated and we need to just face it. Broad-brushed sound-bites with complicated journalist-speak don't translate to Joey-Joe-Joe-Junior-Shavadu down the street who is busy mowing his lawn and trying to put food on his family.

In case you haven't noticed, The Evil One happens to be very talented at telling lies in laymans' terms and THIS is one of the big reasons we are in such deep shit right now. He would not have gotten this far, with all the scandals and all the botched jobs at trying to govern, if he wasn't charismatic and able to talk to people in their language.

Every newspaper man knows that if you want to reach the vast majority of people, you daren't pose your prose at a greater than 8th-grade reading level, 6th if you're really serious. As part of the Resitance we have got to figure out better mechanisms to tell and teach people what is really going on in a way that doesn't alienate them.

Put it this way, a slick-tongued-hillbilly with a C average and a track record of utter and absolute failures has the undying ear of still-too-many Americans. If we are going to expect more of friends and neighbors, we had better damn get off the big rock candy mountain, roll up our sleeves and have a metaphorical beer with these folks. If we don't, I can guarantee we are doomed to more of the same. I, for one, don't think I could take it.

Pass the suds please.

So one of my favorite websites evah, WeirdNJ.com, has FINALLY paid tribute to my hometown of Lyndhurst, New Jersey by way of Woo-Woo, The Siren Boy.

The breadth of talent that stems from that particular location on this-here planet is staggering. And if you catch yourself thinking, "Now I get why that bloggity-big-mouth is so fucking sweet," well...let's just say, I'm not going to argue with you.

Without further adieu, I present Woo-Woo, The Siren Boy:

For me, watching the news about Jerry Falwell kicking the bucket was like watching a horror movie. I covered my eyes and clenched my buttocks in anticipation of the ass-fuck every scary movie worth-its-salt gives you at the end. You know what I'm talking about...the final scene where you convince yourself all the bloodshed and terror is finally over--your heroine is all battered yet somehow remains standing. She's walking around in a relieved, foggy stupor when out of nowhere, BAM!, fucking Jason jumps out of Crystal Lake, right onto your fool-ass lap and makes you shit yourself.

Anyone frightened by Falwell who also knows the legend of the Lernaean Hydra can understand my anxiety at his passing. Ultimately killed by Heracles as one of his Twelve Labours, the hydra was a noxious, multi-headed serpentine character with both poisonous blood and breath. It fed on villagers and their cattle and generally made living a communal life miserable. Any attempt to kill the beast was thwarted because, not only did decapitated heads regenerate two and three-fold, one particular head could not be subdued, no manner the weapon.

Ultimately, the Hydra was brought down, in part, by a firebrand used to cauterize the bloody, decapitated, neck-stumps. And what of that one, wayward head that could not be severed? Heracles ripped it off with his bare hands and buried it under a rock. Badass mother, that dude.

Anyway, what the hell does any of this have to do with Falwell you ask? It does, kiddies, because Hydra de Evangelicles done went and got one of it's fucking heads lobbed off and we need to take careful note of what (or who) will spring up in its place. I fear glossier, more marketable, higher-speed versions of the 2.0 cousin coming in the form of these right-wing-fundy-pscyhos, patiently lying-in-wait to take the helm:

Rev. Frank S. Page
Rev. Rick Warren
Rev. William Hybels
Rev. Joel Hunter

Now, I will be first to admit that I know very little about these men, other than that they are perceived as players in this frightening game of musical altars. Some of them appear to have some sense on dealing with the environment, though through all of my reading, I'm still pretty sure they want daughters raped by fathers to keep the baby and that folks who appear to have been tainted by the devil and want to marry same-sex partners in order to get their slice of ye ol' American Pie be damned. I bet too that if you got them good and drunk they might offer still that a woman's place is in the home and that we may have been better off without the civil rights movement. I'm just sayin'.

So what's gonna happen to the mega-evangelical movement? Either a) There are going to be so many voices trying to run the Christian-right-ass-parade that they take some of the wind out of their own sails and into a more comfortable level of obscurity; or b) Some radical hell-raiser will rise from the wounded beast and stake claim to try and get your kids to believe that some foliage-lusting tart ate an apple one day and ruined it for everybody. Believe it or be damned.

I guess all we can do is wait and see what happens. The way I figure it, these guys are like cockroaches and we may be better off (sooner rather than later) finding ourselves a willing hulk, a hot stick and a mighty-boulder-of-perpetuity(tm). En guarde fellow heathens!!!

Is it just me, or did anyone else want to punch this ass-happy mud scupper in his shriveled, gold-dipped, diamond-tipped excuse for a scrotum last week on "America Idol Gives Back?"

Can we just start with the obvious, please?

George Dubbs and his Stepford wife ACTUALLY had the audacity to come on national television and THANK people for contributing to the HEALTHCARE and FOOD DONATIONS for the child-victims of hurricane Katrina!!???

Ummm, pardon me for saying so; but ARE YOU MOTHER FUCKING KIDDING ME? HE is thanking US for ponying up our hard-earned money in THIS economy to help alieviate a modicum of the devestation this 'great nation' should have dealth with .0000001 second after the hurrican hit?

Oh. my. fucking. god.

Curious how he failed to mention the policies, reinforcements, aid and effort his evil empire had been tirelessly masterminding since that fateful moment almost TWO YEARS AGO?! You know why? Because this metaphorical ass-rapist gave all your tax money to kill 600,000+ innocent Iraqi civilians. Sorry, New Orleans, we're busy, can you call back later?

Next load of horseshit? If Idol was so fucking concerned about New Orleans and the blight in Africa, howza-come they didn't bother to make a donation on behalf of the show? They got INSANE money from sponsors, not to mention the obnoxious oodles they've made over the last six years and how much of that went to the Katrina kitty? Uh, none. No money, but fuck me if they're not taking credit for your $70,000,000! That takes balls, not heart my friends.

And let's chat for just a second about the corporate donors. I don't know about you, but you know, if I was a CEO with a HUGE company and lots and lots of profit and the assurance of a mega-tax-break, I might have considered actually donating the money...TWO YEARS AGO, on my own, so I wouldn't look like an asshole trying to raise the value of my stockshares on a soul-sucking TV program feigning a charitable spirit. This is their effort for doing good as a global and local citizen? That's punk-ass and they should be ashamed of themselves!

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy SOMETIHNG is being done for the good people in New Orleans (and Africa), but it just seems a little hinky to me that our gooberment is relying on US (on top of all we contribute financially to run this wacky show) to save the day. Makes you wonder, where IS all our money going? It sure as shit ain't to the poor.

Seacrest Out!

And of course, my reaction?

Ahhh, I love Hollywood.

Since we're on the subject.....

I know, it's rare, but I love people sometimes.

Yowza! I had a discussion with a colleague today. She's an honest woman, a devout woman and a woman going through a HELL of a time with her soon-to-be-ex-husband (classic abusive narcissist with booze and gambling problems)...'nough said.

Anyway, she was all excited today trying to explain to me how cool it was that her pastor told her about this "galaxy far, far away" (the Milky Way, PS) that was shot by the Hubble telescope and how it looked JUST LIKE JESUS! Natch, I had to come home and investigate with 'mine own eyes.'

Ummmm yeaaaah, here's your Jesus:

Interestingly, Hubble.org describes the image as follows:

Resembling a nightmarish beast rearing its head from a crimson sea, this monstrous object is actually an innocuous pillar of gas and dust. Called the Cone Nebula (NGC 2264) — so named because, in ground-based images, it has a conical shape — this giant pillar resides in a turbulent star-forming region.

I don't know, guys. One man's beast is another man's imaginary overlord I guess. I'll stick to shit that's a little more tangible, like this wee feller:

Yeah, just in case anybody needed to be reminded daily to pray, or pull some biblical quote out of their ass to annoy the rest of humanity, this one's for you:

Jesus, protect me from your followers!

Let us ponder, for a moment, the fabulosity of humanity...

Almost every waking moment I breathe air on this Earth, I've got my worn-out panties in a wad about some gluttonous shit-heel making life hell for the little guy for the sake keeping blood-oil in his Bummer Hummer and shutting the trap of his dumb bitch trophy-wife by filling her head with promises of diamonds and Botox injections.

You got your CEOs, the evil empire regime at 1600 Penn Avenue, their conglomerate of right-wing buddies (congressmen, lobbyists, whores Michele Bachmann), you've got your wack-job evangelicals trying to jab the lunacy of intelligent design down our kids' throats, the ass-buckets who keep stealing our car, and the life-threatening sperm-shooters who drive around in the Pontiac Grand-Ams with their microscopic gonads stuck in the gear-shaft, cell-phone and "these colors don't bleed" bumper stickers in-tow.

You might say I gots me a lots to whine about, no question, I cop. But then I take a look around and gasp in giddy delight, because there are people out there like the goob who concocted this masterpiece. Some dude with a big, awesomely geeked-out idea, who spent his time, not shitting on the wee-man, but making something truly outstanding, for fun and to make other people happy. Maybe he got the corporate hot-shots at Lucas to foot-the-bill, but who cares?

If you're asking me who I'd rather hang out with? Let's just say it's NOT the fuckstick sitting in a tight room who doesn't realize he's choking on his own repressed self-loathing.

Kudos to you, Balloon-Guy! May the fucking force be with all of us!

I fucking HATE Melinda Doolittle. This vid says it all.

Unless you've been under a rock lately, you all have heard about the shooting at Virginia Tech. A tragic series of events left 33 dead (including the killer) and 20+ more injured. If you are human you feel terrible about this event. The loss is obvious.

Let's move on to the bigger issues though.

First, do we REALLY need to see the circus side-show-freak videos of Cho Seung-Hui blaring from every news channel? The answer, IMHO, is no. The feeding frenzy of news reports giving this guy the infamy and attention he so clearly wanted is counter-productive. I personally don't want this kind of reporting to give more like Seung-Hui incentive for contributing to similar events. And before you get up my ass, I'm not saying we shouldn't cover stories like this, I'm just saying that we do so responsibly and respectfully. This type of sensational reporting brings big $$ and--the hub said it best--Americans LOVE to rubber-neck. That's exactly what this is. It's Anna Nicole Smith with guns.

Next, can we just talk for a minute about gun control? And before all you NRA-types have a seizure, sit down and shut up for a second. I'm not suggesting that we remove our right to bear arms. We have a right to guns--for hunting, for self-defense and, lord help us, a government run amok. But seriously, if a mental case with an anti-social personality disorder, a history of bizarre behavior and a record of institutionalization can get a semi-automatic weapon on E-Bay, don't you think we might have a problem?

While there is a centralized system (a sad excuse for one if you're asking me) for notifying gun dealers about a criminal record, there is no such centralized system to notify them of a record of mental institutionalization, especially if the would-be purchaser checked him/herself in willingly. Does anyone else find this scary? You need a Doctor to get a prescription for frigging penicillin, but any gun shop can authorize the purchase of a weapon? Ummmm, that's fucked up. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say the vast majority of adult, gun-related murders(not to include those in self-defense) are caused by someone with a little bit of a mental problem. On what planet do you live that you would NOT want a tighter grip on who can buy a gun and kill you?

We need to establish a national dialog here and start putting pressure on our legislators. There can be an effective compromise reached between the pro-gun-slingers and those of us who want to see a little more legislation about who gets them and under what process they can be acquired. Our rights do not have to be mutually exclusive.