The Curmudgeon

Every now and then, the local news media manages to follow a story which is not only not news but also crosses the boundary of the ignorable, crosses the territory of the annoying, and ventures into the area of the dumbfounding. Such has been the case with KARE-11's pursuit of the story of the cow that doesn't seem to moo.

In a nutshell, a person living on a property zoned for livestock (I suppose this could be known otherwise as a farm) has a cow. A neighbor of this person, "Mark" (last name not provided by "Mark") has called the sheriff over 20 times to complain about the cow's mooing. Apparently the cow moos- though in the TWO DAYS of KARE-11's coverage, the cow has yet to utter a peep or a moo.

But there is something about the cow's mooing, according to Mark. He uses words like 'shrill' and 'deep' to describe the moos. Um, okay. Your Curmudgeon holds out a glimmer of hope that Mark was using 'shrill' in the sense of being intemperate.

So, eschewing the issue of the decision at KARE-11 to follow this story not just once but twice, a person who lives on a farm has a cow. And that cow, is said to moo. And the neighbor, who must have at some point in time figured out that farms may be prone to having cows, is pitching a fit over this.

I'd like to take this time to speak directly to "Mark": Dude, you live next to a farm. Farm animals- which are permitted on farms- will make noises. Unless your neighbor is taking the cow onto your property or somehow amplifying the noise directed at your property, you will just have to learn to cope. If you can't cope, then you may need to move, perhaps to an area not zoned for livestock. These areas are called towns, or cities.

If you do move, though, you should check the ordinances, because not every community is zoned for jackasses.

Good news this afternoon- my Representative, Keith Ellison, signed onto the proceedings to impeach the Snarling Dick.

'Bout damn time. More on this later.

Oooh, so all three of the major candidates for the US Senate seat admit to recreational drug use? Norm the Windsock smoked pot. Mike the Attorney smoked pot. Al the Entitled did that, and cocaine, and LSD. And your Curmudgeon replies with a yawn and a "So what?"

Norm is already a Senator. Come January '09, one of those men will likely be a Senator.

At the end of the day, does it really matter what they did as younger men? In each case, be it Mike, Al, or Norm- each of these men went on to lead productive, successful lives. A toke in college doesn't render one's thinking or ability to faithfully serve the public decades later moot.

Maybe it is time to retire this puritanical game of political gotcha over past recreational drug use. It really is a non-issue. In a political campaign, maybe, just maybe, the focus should be on the issues of the day, the stuff going on today.

There's plenty of vital contemporary issues to address. Here's hoping the irrelevant can be eschewed in favor of the important issues.

No, it ain't easy being a pimp. Especially if you're Governor Tim Pawlenty, pimping out the white elephant that is the '08 GOP Convention. This is a lesson which Pawlenty is apparently learning at this time. He held a corporate fund raiser breakfast, where the corporations of his choice were assembled and shown the lipstick-smeared pig in hopes of getting some action.

'Access' is certainly for sale, and not in the criminally ritzy Abramoff way. Nope, this is pretty naked and open pandering on the part of the Gov. Heck, in the PiPress, the 'menu' complete with prices is available.

Remember last year, when a political convention was being touted as a huge economic boost? Even when the GOP swooped in and took the St Paul venue, it was still a big 'whoop whoop' money train pulling into town... so what's with all this very public pandering now? I didn't think republicans were that cheap and obvious, since they are already bought and paid for. Maybe sugar daddy is, uh, investing and adding to the stable?

For a mere $1 million, there's a private reception with the Gov and Senator Windsock Coleman. If you wanna golf with party leadership, though, that'll be $2.5 million.

Just remember to pay the Man.

Damn, your faithful Curmudgeon is happy that Senator Pat Leahy (D-VT) found his spine and did what has needed to be done for a while now. The good Senator, chair of the Judiciary Committee, issued subpoenas to the White House and the Snarling Dick regarding their warrantless wiretapping program today.

Here's hoping the subpoena to Snarling Dick was sealed with a "Go fuck yourself"....

I can only imagine that this criminal regime will have to claim executive privilege (no sense for them to start playing by the rules now), and send this matter to the courts. Guess we'll get to see if the SCOTUS will decide to reverse the stare decisis that the courts won't interfere with Congressional subpoenas issued to the Executive branch... and we'll know then if Roberts, Alito, Scalia, and Thomas are down with the empire or not.

Who would have thunk it?

In a reversal of roles your Curmudgeon can only call stunning, the Strib today published its own version of coverage concerning potential GOP convention protestors: "Web Chatter Vows GOP Convention Protests".

Um, wow. "Chatter"? "Vows"? REALLY? The last time I saw words crafted like that, the article was talking about.... terrorist cells. Plunging fearlessly on into this spooky piece, this choice of words appears intentional. By focusing exclusively on one group and flavoring their piece with heaping helpings of paranoia, the Strib is definitely selling fear here, and trying to tarnish every possible protester as being somehow sinister.

Compare this to the Pioneer Press coverage of the United for Peace and Justice's preparations for protesting at the '08 GOP Convention. It was informative, not fear-mongering. Note also that the PiPress coverage included conversation with the UfPJ organizers, where the Strib didn't appear to make contact with anyone from the group in question, or even attempt such contact.

It may just be my own idle speculation here, but I don't recall the Strib running garbage like this before Par Ridder took the reins. No, a year ago, the fear-mongering spin would have been the domain of the PiPress, when Par Ridder was running things there. Hmmm, do you suppose that the Twin Cities might actually get two decent papers if neither one had anything to do with Par?

I've been sitting anxiously on my hands, waiting for this to be put online. Greg Palast, author of Armed Madhouse and The Best Democracy Money Can Buy, made a special appearance on the PKRT podcast over at the newly renovated Unfiltered News Network. Greg discusses a range of subjects covered in his book, from the crying clone Tim Griffin, to Hugo Chavez and the World Bank, to the ongoing tragedy of the Katrina "recovery", the war in Iraq, and more, with the roundtable panel. It is available as a podcast download or as a stream- be sure to catch it!

The city of St. Paul, county of Ramsey, and state of Minnesota are figuring out that the '08 G.O.P. convention, and the supposed economic windfall it is alleged to bring, will require a considerable outlay of funds first. That Green Zone isn't going to build itself- nor is the open air detention center "Gitmo North". The various law enforcement agencies from the local through the federal levels are working on their approach to securing the convention- and when their plans include contingencies for calling in the National Guard and the aforementioned Gitmo North, it doesn't take too much imagination to picture what that approach will be.

Those who would dare to exercise their First Amendment rights at the convention are doing some planning, too. United for Peace and Justice is working on bringing together the manifold groups for the protests. Those plans will likely have to be fairly flexible, though, because St.Paul is standing fast to their contention that any permits for protests will only be considered six months prior to the event.

Some things about the convention are certain, even this far out from the event. Late summer in Minnesota means things will be hot, and sticky. The Minnesota State Fair, which brings in at minimum 100,000 a day, will be wrapping up. The location of the convention, the Xcel Center, is located in near proximity to Interstates 94 and 35E, and these routes already are prone to massive congestion during rush hours. The layout of St. Paul, too, lends itself to congestion in the normal course of daily business.

Add to the above picture the convergence (approximately 45,000) of the faithful to the party which has inflicted a tyrannical, criminal regime on the nation and the world as well as the folks who would care to voice their displeasure about that state of affairs(at least 100,000). Layer that with the abovementioned law enforcement/security details. And shake.

Your Curmudgeon won't even attempt a guess at what that combination will yield, other than it will not be pleasant. And while I may be loathe to be anywhere near when it happens, I may just have to be there to make sure at least some actual coverage will take place.

So, a friend of mine found this video and posted it on a message board. It is brilliant, but the underlying reason for my fondness for the video is that it uses ABBA. That just makes me smile, because it reminds me of a little story.

In the great pastiche of the idiosyncratic that was my wedding and reception, little individual expressions and compromises were abundant. One of those 'compromises' was in fact not really a compromise at all. Throughout all of our courtship and the run-up to the wedding, my then-fiancee was under the mistaken impression that your Curmudgeon didn't like ABBA.

It was, I suppose, an understandable enough of an impression to have of me. And the truth is, I did nothing to dissuade her from that. ABBA, to me, is like tarragon- it is not an herb you want to use in everything. Used too much, or used inappropriately too frequently, it becomes loathsome. No, tarragon, like ABBA, has definite and distinct uses. An entire ABBA-themed wedding would be a bucket of sucktastic cheese. An ABBA song for a first dance, which was the 'compromise' in question, didn't overstretch and didn't understate.

So we had the wedding, we had the reception, including that first dance to ABBA which got interrupted by Miss Richfield 1981, as intended. The reception ensued: a rollicking, rambling, and thoroughly drunken affair. Later, much later, one of my tribe made mention to my wife that he thought it was great that she agreed to have ABBA as the first dance.

...and for my wife, everything needed to stop for a bit. My gig, it was up. I had been busted. But, really, it was all right; after the initial shock passed, she though it was pretty funny, too.

Still, whenever either of us find a good use of the ABBA, we get a little chuckle, and a reminder of one of the greatest nights ever.

There are a lot of ways to approach the news of the sale of Strib properties to Zygi Wilf, the owner of the Minnesota Vikings. Your Curmudgeon will leave the "Yay, TEAM!" crap angle alone, aside from this mention. There will be plenty of cheerleading pollyanna coverage -probably a deafeningly loud plenty- and there's no need to add to that.

• Vikings, we are told, were ship-born warriors and traders of Norsemen (literally, men from the north) who originated in Scandinavia and raided the coasts of Britain, Ireland and mainland Europe as far east as the Volga River in Russia from the late 8th–11th century. They founded settlements for three centuries along the coasts and rivers of mainland Europe, Ireland, Great Britain, Normandy, the Shetland, Orkney, and Faroe Islands, Iceland, Greenland, Newfoundland circa 1000 They reached south to North Africa and east to Russia and Constantinople, as looters, traders, or mercenaries. Whether the events of the modern day Vikings have any bearing on the historical vikings will be left as an exercise for the reader.

• Obviously, there's the angle which observes that the new owners of the Strib cull some off their bottom line. Avista Capital Partners purchased the Star Tribune and its properties earlier this year for $530 million. The sale of these properties to Zygi Wilf and his Vikings brings $45 million back to them. Maybe the thinking is that the price of the components of the paper this group is destroying will fetch a higher price than the whole thing.
• Speaking of the Strib, why did the news of this sale only appear in their SPORTS section? Okay, sure, pro football fans would have interest in a possible new stadium. Really, though, don't more folks attend to a daily newspaper over the course of a year than a football team? Could there not have been some coverage in the news section? Guess not, if it's the Strib, or at least the current version of the Strib.
• Zygi Wilf is willing to pony up for the land for his new stadium, but he still wants our money to actually build the damn thing. He's hardly being original in his thinking here. Since he's willing to keep the team in Minneapolis, and he's willing to put some more money for a new venue, the thinking goes, surely some public money could come his way to finish the vision. The question which has gone unanswered here is what exactly does the public get for their money? I suppose it would be laughable to think that the public would actually get some ownership of the stadium. Will we get reduced prices for seating to watch Zygi's Football Follies? Will the public be able to bring in their own food and refreshments, avoiding the overpriced concession industry if they choose? Will a family of four, of moderate income, be able to afford to attend a game? Hell, will we even get some free parking out of the deal?
• The State Legislature's agenda for 2008 is pretty much set now, and if we're really lucky, maybe some of it will actually be about the people of the state. Your Curmudgeon recalls the 2006 session- it was the one where the chief accomplishments were new sports venues for Gopher Football and Twins Baseball. This year, well, it was a year in which Gov Pawlenty axed spending on health care, education, maintaining the transportation infrastructure, and local government aid. Pawlenty also nixed property tax relief and the addition of an income tax bracket for the wealthiest Minnesotans. Next year, look for more money of the working and middle classes to go for the projects of and for the wealthy.

Darth Cheney has managed to -yet again- show that unmistakable contempt he harbors for this nation, the people of the nation, and what remains of the form of government we have consented to form. According to the Snarling Master, the office of the Vice-President is NOT part of the executive branch.

As such, the office of the Sith-Lord Cheney would have no criminal culpability regarding the classification and declassification of sensitive material. It is yet another "go fuck yourself" moment for this imperial bastard.

One would hope that this stunning hubris would at long last prompt our elected representatives to do the right thing and impeach this son of a bitch. An official, "No, go fuck YOURSELF, you criminal miscreant" from Congress, followed by the appropriate trials after his feeble ass is impeached out of office, seems to be the correct course of action now.

Your Curmudgeon also supposes that if we were to accept this radical revisionism on the part of the Snarling Master, then perhaps we wouldn't even have to bother with impeachment. We could proceed directly to hauling his ass away to prison while the list of criminal acts is compiled comprehensively.

Your Curmudgeon does not have much time for that aura of entitlement which surrounds celebrity. I have even less patience for that sense of entitlement when a celebrity decides that fame alone is sufficient to rationalize a foray into politics. Being in the public eye is not equivalent to being in the public service.

Consequently, it comes as no surprise that the Franken run for the U.S. Senate doesn't have me bouncing for joy. Nope, if Al wants to get into politics, that's great- but I'd be a little bit more willing to support him if he started building a record of public service- maybe running for a position in state legislature instead of starting off gunning for the freaking Senate.

Still- Al gets a LOT of press, and money- simply because he is a celebrity. Let us, you and I, examine some of the contributors for Al's Senate campaign:

Now, if you are thinking, like I am, "I didn't know Larry Hagman, Ben Stein, and Lucy Lawless lived in Minnesota!", I've some news for ya. They DON'T live in Minnesota.

But they are all willing to put their money in to help determine who should represent Minnesota in the U.S. Senate.

It isn't that the GOP dogs in Congress don't hunt, nor is it the case that they won't hunt. The truth is that the republicans can't hunt- all trails lead back to their own. Set out in a woods bursting forth with odd beasts to hunt, the GOP dogs gnaw at their leashes to break free and dash off to sunny meadows where they can chase figments of their own fevered imaginations.

The political party which bleats loudly and at great length about such concepts as 'responsibility', and 'accountability' knows viscerally, essentially, that when it comes to their own, it really is only so much words. Sure, nearly a decade ago, these beasts managed to rear themselves up on their hind haunches, and chanted "rule of law, rule of law" when marching from the House chambers to the Senate, back when the nation had the luxury of pillorying a President over the most trivial pretexts. That chant no longer echoes. Nope, now, if one listens to this fell pack, the growling sounds more like "no rules, no laws".

This is perhaps illustrated most clearly by their behaviour in committee hearings. Whether it is Lurita Doan bobbling her way through a defense of violating the 1939 Hatch Act, the Attorney General Torture King Gonzales' bout with reaganesia as regards his attempts to stack the judiciary deck with regime loyalists, or Monica Goodling stumbling over her head in a wading pool, the sitting repubs just don't give one whit about the issue at hand. Nope, when it comes to those hearings, we get entreated to whatever tangent that captures the fancy of the republican members.

When confronted with such damning realities, the repub dogs instead choose to chase butterflies. "No rules, and no laws," they mumbled between their talking points, "Hey, look! This pen has some ink in it!" Of course, they pretty much have to take this tack, because if any of the manifold investigations are followed, the whole damn corrupt and criminal regime and party gets sunk.

With the republicans' flagrant criminal enterprise getting increasingly exposed, what does their pack of dogs do, other than bump blindly about in a disingenuous display of ineptitude? Well, the minority party goes on the offensive- and what an offensive it is! A faction is calling to subpoena Valerie Plame to appear again to answer the same battery of bullshit questions, again.

Valerie Plame, we recall, was a covert CIA agent- until she was outed by this criminal republican regime via their lapdog whore propagandists. When asked to testify before a committee, she gladly complied.

Where does that leave us? Well, we could point out the utter futility of this republican effort at distraction. A subpoena is used when a witness does not agree to testify- when asked, the witness says no, and so a subpoena compels that witness to testify. In the case of this corrupt, criminal regime, all witnesses pretty much need to be cajoled at the least into testifying. Even then, though, subpoenas have been issued as a matter of necessity as the investigations draw nearer and nearer to the inner circle of the cabal.

Further, the call to subpoena Plame is coming from a faction of the minority party- a minority of the minority, if you will. Subpoenas can only be issued by a majority assent. It is crystal clear that the majority will NOT assent to this call. The bloviations of the republicans here serve only a cynical purpose. Because they know their call is futile, they can bluster to even a greater degree; they know it ain't going anywhere. In fact, if they did get Plame back for further testimony, they wouldn't have any line of questioning which wouldn't be biting them directly or indirectly on their own asses.

When a hunting dog loses the ability or will to actually hunt, they can no longer be called hunting dogs. At best, they become companion animals- hanging out on the porch, soaking up the sun and kibble. Other refusenik dogs get turned loose in a sunny meadow, where they can chase their butterflies or figments of the imagination. The point remains, however, that the dogs don't hunt anymore, and it is time to find some dogs who can and will hunt.

Credit where credit is due: I got this from Crooks and Liars, who in turn got it from Jesus' General...
I was doing some research on the economy, and I discovered something interesting. Of all the items listed below, the price of only one item has gone way down since Bush took office. Everything else has become much more expensive.

Dozen eggs
Gallon of Gas
Health Care
Gallon of Milk
Ear of corn
8-ball of cocaine
College Tuition
Loaf of bread

Can you guess what that one thing is?

Michele 'Breeder' Bachmann, the shame of Minnesota's sixth Congressional district, is at it again. 'It', here, being abjectly unresponsive- to her constituents, to the local media serving her district, even to the rules of Congress.

Let us start with the latter. The Minnesota Monitor is reporting that the Breeder hasn't made her Personal Finance Report yet, as mandated by congressional rule. She hasn't filed for an extension, either. Are there things going on with her outside sources of income, investments or any travel sponsored by outside groups that she just doesn't think the public needs to know?
UPDATING: From the comments section at the Minnesota Monitor- the Breeder's Personal Finance Report has been found (pdf file linked here). It wasn't seemingly available to Congressional Quarterly on Saturday, and it appears that this document was a little late to show, even at the Washington Post.

And she isn't responding to media inquiries about that. No, the Breeder ain't talking. Unless she's REALLY REALLY sure that the venue will be unequivocally and unquestioning in absolute support of whatever agenda she wants to tout. Like, say, if she gets a three-hour block of radio air guest-hosting a call-in show to caterwaul unimpeded by anything so crass and plebeian as taking phone calls from the listening audience.

When the Breeder discovered that the 110th Congress would be working 5-day work weeks, she was a bit petulant. Working so much would keep her from 'getting back to her district, and talking with her constituents', we were told. Bachmann then went on to take weeks longer than the other freshman representatives to even publish an email to which her constituents could submit communication.

It turns out, even responding to her own constituents is something the Breeder Bachmann just does NOT do.

It has been a while since your Curmudgeon has bestowed the dishonor of the Ignoranus of the Moment title. However, Par Ridder has as of late really stepped up and deemed himself worthy. It takes a real asshole to dismantle a once solid newspaper, to silence news in favor of warm fuzzy stories, to pare away a hard working staff who did a good job, and keep the think-tank talking point echo-chamber bots. But to do so in the name of belt-tightening in the face of adversity, while moving into a damn mansion, well, that's the mark of an ignoranus.

The Minneapolis Star-Tribune, otherwise known as the Strib, has been tightening its belt in the face of tough times. As the staff, including editors, writers, reporters- you know, the folks who put the stuff in the paper that its audience actually wants to read- continue to depart, the publisher Par Ridder (whose previous paper was the empty-headed Pioneer Press, a vacuous collection of stories masquerading as a newspaper)promises that the Strib's legacy of actual journalism shall endure.

Indeed. Perhaps that's why, amid all the other things happening in the city, state, nation, and world, today's Strib front page is all about Lyme disease. Way to speak truth to uh, insects, Par.

Your Curmudgeon also smells that same sort of odor as that emanating from Northwest Airlines. NWA, we recall, emerged from bankruptcy protection after beating down the wages, compensation, and benefits of the unions serving the airline's workers recently. We should also recall that the CEO set at NWA received hundreds of millions of dollars in bonuses in that very same time frame.

As with NWA, so too with the Strib. As is reported in the Minnesota Monitor, Par Ridder is moving on up to a MUCH bigger house. I am sure he and (former IoTM) Turkey Flaps Katherine Kersten can enjoy the ostentation as they discuss how best to headline a week-long feature on how to best pursue tax shelters for faith-based gardening.

Forget about red states and blue states. Throw the bit about the conservative majority 'values voter' where it belongs: in the trash. When some stuffed shirt newsreading lapdog says that the US is a nation of conservatives- don't believe it, not for one freaking second. This is a nation of progressives; we are the majority, and really, it isn't even a narrow margin. The people of the nation are more progressive, it seems, than even what the Democratic party acknowledges.

The key is to pay attention to the issues. The States- more specifically and more importantly, the people of the States- are decidedly and increasingly progressive when it comes to the issues. Here is a .pdf file of the report detailing how the nation leans to the left on the issues. This is more stuff which shows, clearly, that the on-the-ground reality here in the States is decidedly more progressive than one would gather from listening to the corporate-controlled mainstream media.

Why would this be so?

It's a scam, an intentional fraud foisted upon us to allow a wealthy elite to continue to rob us blind, and make us pay for the privilege. By giving the treatment of 'teaching the controversy', by fabricating bullshit about a 'conservative majority', the corporatists get away with all this odd 'economy bolstering' which leaves the rest of us not only in a worse spot, but laden with generations of debt for their greedhead motives. They perpetrate this scam because if they can make it seem that a majority of folks in the nation actually have the polar opposite of their own best interests at heart, then it all becomes somehow palatable. When you have so many rightwing fucktards blasting the regime loyalist propaganda in hours-long bloviation sessions in the media, it can certainly seem like the myth of a conservative America is real.

But it is not. It is utter bullshit.

It makes your faithful Curmudgeon's heart happy to know that at any moment, on any given day, a radio station is playing polka. To make things even more beauteous, it can be streamed via the internet at the most appropriately named 24/7PolkaHeaven.

Oh, hell yes! This is wonderful, wonderful stuff. Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking:

(note: this is NOT a picture of me. I have a bloatee.)

But that ain't even the half of it. Yeah, I did take my grandfather to see The Welk some 24 odd years ago. And yes, I do have an odd fascination with The Welk (if it isn't Hockey Night In Canada, there's a good chance I'll force folks to watch The Welk on a Saturday night). That's just a sidebar, though.

No, really. I guess you could say from the first time I saw (and immediately bought) the first Polkacide album, it has been an evolving thing with me.

Here's the thing. The world can, and- indeed- is going to hell in a handbasket. We here at the Pubhouse acknowledge that, and we document it on a daily basis. The tides of atrocity run higher daily, and the waves of criminal indifference crest above even that. It can wear a person down, drive them to the edge of their sanity, bring them to a bending sadness, boil over in loud rage.

But we can only lose, you and I, if we succumb fully to it. If we can't dance, if we cannot laugh, if the world becomes entirely devoid of even little slivers of joy for us, it matters not what else- we have lost. That's what polka gives me- a bright little joy, a pure bounce of unmitigated joy. It reminds me that the reason I bring my voice to the fight is to get our world to a better place- it's the spark that ignites the fiery and unapologetic progressive within me.

There are, on occasion, news items which leave me scratching my head in utter confusion. It seems to be happening more and more often as of late. Sometimes I am left to ponder why something made the news in the first place- prime case in example here being the circle jerk circus sideshow covering the 'Paris Hilton in jail' story. Other stories, though, give me pause to consider that the world, or at least significant portions of the power elite, has simply lost its collective fucking mind.

Such is the case with news reports today that the U.S. military has confirmed that they are now arming Sunni insurgents in Iraq. The 'thinking' here is that while it is possible, even likely, that these arms will be used in the ongoing Iraqi Civil War, or even against the U.S. troops 'surging' over there, the Sunni insurgents may just turn them against the shadowy "al Qaeda in Mesopotamia".

I am reminded of a time, long ago, when I was playing basketball. A guy from the other team looked me in the eyes, and passed the ball directly to me. Everybody, except that guy, was pretty much totally dumbfounded, and play stopped.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" asked kids from both teams. We were well used to mental lapses and less than stellar athletic displays, but this was jaw-droppingly astounding.

"Well," he started-

The kid was actually going to mount a defense of his actions! Holy shit!

"I knew he," the kid motioned to me, "was there, and he was on the other team. Rather than do something he was suspecting, like try to get around him, pass to someone on my team, or fake one and do the other, I decided to not fake him out and passed the ball to him. I expected he'd think THAT was a fake, and would move out of the way of the pass. But he didn't fall for my trick, and intercepted the pass."

The sad thing was- and this was understood by every kid on the playground- was that this boy actually believed his own bullshit. In his mind, he was trying a new and innovative strategy, and the rest of the world just failed to grasp his ingenuity. He was the walking lesson that creativity without intelligence is just another way of being willfully stupid.

You know, I could shrug that tale off as simply a brief episode of dealing with stupidity. But today, when I see the leaders of the nation doing pretty much the SAME EXACT DAMN THING, with the SAME DAMN EXACT FAILED REASONING, I am much less forgiving. Today's news isn't about a gaffe in a game, it is literally about making an awful situation that much worse, that much more deadly. The U.S. military, in arming Sunni insurgents, is putting our forces in GREATER peril. Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot?

There is one frame which would make this bit of sheer insanity make sense, however. One group of folks comes away from this richer for the experience. That group would be the war profiteers, the folks who make the weapons that get used in these fucking bloodbaths. Their product gets moved, sold, and used by all factions in the war- and those criminal bastards are reaping a huge profit from the carnage.

Extra grumpy this ayem. I'm hobbling around because the bigass mysterious pain in my left big toe is back (It is not acting like gout per se, it can't be broken, but man oh man does putting weight on it suck!). The decades old fridge at my happy home looks to have finally died, so the wife and I will be off shopping for appliances after work.

And hockey season is over. That's sad enough- but goddamn it all, the Cup once again will reside in a land of no ice- freaking ANAHEIM. That's just packing a cut with salt and rinsing it out with lemon juice.

It is my guess that this is not terribly surprising- the criminal republican regime is fighting tooth and nail to thwart efforts to end their illegal wiretapping program. The U.S. House has passed a law which would bring the Smirking Puppet/Snarling Master regime's domestic spying program under the FISA law, but it now languishes in a Senate committee, awaiting documents from the White House.

Without those documents, it doesn't look like this bill will become law. And waiting for this imperial regime to do anything in accordance with law, or even common decency, is a fool's errand. They are laying siege on any and everything resembling the rights and freedoms inherent to humanity.

There is just so much about this criminal republican regime which seems to be lifted directly from comic books, it boggles the mind. The vast majority of that stuff is fully intentional on their part- it frames their imperial struggles as courageous heroes against mega-evil villains. When the actual facts about this collection of miscreants and rogues are examined (as in today's NYT comment on Darth Cheney), the comic book dimension remains, though the focus is completely reversed.

I was driving into work yesterday, listening to a cd I had burned a few years ago. The listening choices are one of the few things that have gotten easier with my daily commute, which even in the best of circumstances usually involves multiple bottlenecks and traffic hassle. With recent (and long overdue) traffic construction, the hassles have become even more difficult. MNDOT assures us all that this is only the beginning of the process, a four year process. Hell, I am not even sure what route will be available to me tonight as I make my way from the southernmost of the metro suburbs to my happy home on the northern edge of Minneapolis- it looks like most the routes I use will be closed.

But, after a considerable bit of fussin', fixin', and fundin', I at least have a decent sound system to accompany me on my travels. A song came on- I hadn't heard it in a long, long while- and I was amazed to be confronted with what has to be one of the more fitting theme songs for this current criminal republican regime. The song? The Sex Pistols' "Friggin' in the Riggin'", from the Great Rock and Roll Swindle soundtrack. Yup- it has been thirty years since it was released.

Here are the lyrics:

It was on the good ship Venus By Christ, ya shoulda seen us
The figurehead was a whore in bed
And the mast, a mammoth penis

The captain of this lugger
He was a dirty bugger
He wasn't fit to shovel shit
From one place to another

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do

The first mate's name was Morgan
By Christ, he was a gorgon
Ten times a day he'd stop and play
With his fuckin' organ

The first mate's name was Cooper
By Christ he was a trooper.
He jerked and jerked until he worked
Himself into a stupor

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do

The second mate was Andy
By Christ, he had a dandy
Till they crushed his cock on a jagged rock
For cumming in the brandy

The cabin boy was Flipper
He was a fuckin' nipper
He stuffed his ass with broken glass
And circumcised the skipper

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do

The Captain's wife was Mabel
To fuck she was not able
So the dirty shits, they nailed her tits
Across the barroom table

The Captain had a daughter
Who fell in deep sea water
And by her squeals we knew the eels
Had found 'er sexual quarters

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do

And here's the song itself. Enjoy.