Parodies Lost

The Futility of Hope

What a surprise.  We're heading nowhere faster than a speeding bullet.  We gnaw on decaying bones while fresh meat hangs in front of us, going bad.  They do not just hold differing opinions, they are handmaidens of the devil, dragging us either towards some Nazi, socialist, new world order...or deeper into the new American aristocracy where wealth and personal success are the sole measures of a person's worth.

Wanda Sykes skewers Rush "I Am The Walrus" Limbaugh and the conservative media orgasms in hysteria and outrage. (Someone should tell pundits and pols that the very word "outrage" has, through serious scientific research, been shown to have the opposite effect as the one intended.)  Their sexual thrill was only slightly less intense when the Prez stupidly asked for Dijon mustard at a hamburger joint.  Puleeze.  Who puts mustard on hamburgers?  The guy must really be a Muslim.

Dick "Duck" Cheney decides that ol' Rush is a better banner carrier for the Republican Party than Colin Powell. After all, Rush has accomplished so much more. And has a lot more money. And smokes expensive cigars.  And Cheney.  Lord, love a duck, he's morphing into Mephostopoles right before our eyes.  

Not to be outdone, the left is dancing around a May pole singing, "The Elephants Are the Party of No" to no particular tune at all, and the Democratic leadership in Congress's version of collegiality is to wave a piece of legislation in the face of Republicans minutes before asking for their support.

Barack "I Am He Who Has Come" Obama could charm the ears off Dumbo, but where's the backbone, the tough decisions, the determination to wrestle the financial octopus that still controls our fate into submission?  When does he throw down the gloves to someone...anyone...to demonstrate there's some there there?  May's Atlantic Monthly has an article, "The Quiet Coup," that'll chill your bones.  It's how the financial community has D.C. in a death grip.

On a happier note, if you've been doing your uppers regularly, the health care industry – at least those who profit from it most luxuriously, march to the White House and offer a proposal so modest that Jonathan Swift would have missed the satire. Maybe, under the right conditions, if the stars align and no one gets sick for the next ten years, we'll be able to save 1.5% a year in health care costs. Maybe. And the White House June Taylor Dancers put on a flower display in the pool that leaves one breathless. (For those of you under 50, you'll have to take my word on that one.)

No one's willing to sacrifice. No one's willing to give an inch. We're as polarized as the battery that powers the Energizer Bunny...and equally as obnoxious. The administration offers budget cuts that border on the minuscule, but every affected Democratic member is up in arms. "He gotta have that helicopter...why, without it, not only will he probably crash land in a foreign country, we'll lose 800 jobs."

Yes, if your district loses the helicopter, it'll cost jobs & maybe even cost votes. But what the hell are you in Washington for — to create an impenetrable shield that protects your seat for life or to serve the interests of your district AND the country?  (Sorry, a stupid question if ever asked.)  Ah screw it.  Agree to take the pain if it's spread fairly, but fair does not mean everyone but you — and you know who you are...assuming you read this, which is a helluva assumption.

In a recent New York Times Magazine interview, the president admitted that not every initiative is going to work, but that the administration cannot allow the perfect to be the enemy of the good. Exactly right, which is why people of good faith (if there are any) from across the political spectrums should be talking and wrestling with various approaches, reaching consensus, or even agreeing to disagree.

But there's little of that.

And now we learn that social security, Medicare, and Medicaid are going to reach Doomsday earlier than predicted.  What a surprise.  Does anyone think the American people will tolerate any bold initiatives to fix those programs?  How can the government act when we, the people, care only about ourselves and our families.  We're Americans, and we take care of our own...and fuck the rest of you.

Oh, we may stumble out of our domestic financial mess.  But how are we to recapture the value system that has been our moral compass?

The torture issue is the perfect symbol of our fall from grace.  Even Fox anchor Shepard Smith understands the problem.  On FoxNews.com's online show, Smith burst out, "We are America!" he shouted, slamming his hand on the table. "I don't give a rat's ass if it helps. We are AMERICA! We do not fucking torture!!"  The video is incredible.  Fox News...not MSNBC.

Once Humpty Dumpty has put the King's Horses together again, the journey will have just begun.  And I fear I see no support among the American people — which means no leadership in Washington — for the kind of sacrifices, the level of rational discussion and debate, and the willingness to leave ideology behind and embrace the notion that we are America...and our strength is in our ability to disagree with respect and understanding...and admit when we are wrong.

And that's the truth... 

In Jameson Veritas

Technorati Tags: American Values, Barack Obama, Colin Powell, Dick Cheney, ideology, Medicaid, Medicare, Rush Limbaugh, sacrifice, Social Security, Torture, Wanda Sykes
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Mr. Obama, Let's Get to the Point About Circumcision

A race absolutely alien to God has invaded the land of Christians ... They have circumcised the Christians, either spreading the blood ... on the altars or pouring it into the baptismal fonts.

Thus did Pope Urban II, in the year of our Lord 1095, launch what was to become The First Crusade, the holy war against that race God didn't know — the Muslims who inhabited the sacred, mystical, holy city of Jerusalem — and whose behavior against God-fearing Christians, well, cut to the quick.

Fast forward to Monday, March 30. History repeats itself. But this time, it's not some strange religious entity stealing our manhood, our sacred privates, our foreskin. No, it's America's doctors and parents, aided and abetted by federal and state officials.

As reported by Dan Zak in The Washington Post, a group of fifty dedicated, religious, knife-less men and women marched around the White House, calling for a federal ban on newborn circumcision. Mr. Zak is no doubt one whose willie remains whole. How else to account for his snide and dismissive account of this group's activities? Yet their signs make it clear that they're serious-type people, urging our new president to act with dispatch when it comes to this barbarous act:

WHOSE PENIS?

WHOSE BODY?

WHOSE RIGHTS?

These folks know when to poke it to the man. It's Genital Integrity Awareness Week as well as National Child Abuse Prevention Month. Female circumcision has become a cause celebre, but is it not time for an upwelling of support for men? Actually, newborn male-type babies. Who will speak up for their rights?

For 914 years, good people have spoken out against this mutilation of a man's best friend, confidant, and conscience — from Popes, to the American Academy of Pediatrics, to "Marilyn Milos, a former nurse and founder of the National Organization of Circumcision Information Resource Centers," who claims that circumcision causes "premature ejaculation."

And these people are just the tip of the iceberg. Thousands, nay, perhaps millions of American men are suffering.

Yes, I'll admit it. When I was very young, perhaps a few days or weeks old, my parents agreed to have my blessed foreskin — oh, this is so hard to say — whacked off. I don't know if they took me to a doctor or a mohel (a Jewish guy with a very sharp set of knives, steady hands, and a really, really bad attitude — some would call him a prick, but that might be going too far — anyway, these mohelim conduct the barbaric "off with his head" ritual... for a small fee).

Thanks to years of therapy, countless sessions in ashrams contemplating my loss, and the unwavering support of my close friends, I have forgiven them — Mom and Dad — for they knew not what they did. But those of us, as many as 85% of boys in 1965, thankfully down to 56% a couple of years ago, who have had to live as half a man, must join forces with the brave group who braved the scorn of the media on Monday to prevent our tragedy from being visited on the unborn males in this vast country.

How can one doubt the dangers of lopping off the most important part of a man's manliness? How else can one account for the 850 million doses of Viagra, Cialis, Levitra, and other pills swallowed in just the past few years by men desperate to restore their pride?

According to the highly-respected website, Impotence-Guide.Com, "Erectile Dysfunction is caused by a lack of blood flow or a misfiring of neural signals to the penis during sexual intimacy. This restriction leaves affected men unable to sustain a natural erection allowing for penetration. More than 50% of men over the age of 40 will experience some level of ED at one point or another during their life." [Emphasis theirs, don't point at me!]

Some have called circumcision "the trauma that haunts forever." (Well, I call it that, which isn't exactly "some.") Nevertheless, that trauma, embedded deep within the neurons in our brains, is what leads to the misfiring of those signals so essential to strength, length, and fortitude.

Consider that Extenze, the all-natural, male enhancement pill that is guaranteed to make a certain part of the male anatomy longer and wider, has been swallowed over one millions times. Would men seek extra length if their original size hadn't been tampered with?

The solution is simple. Mr. President, you must act. On behalf of a crippled nation, I call upon you to take whatever action is necessary to end this century-old attack on the male-type babies of our nation. It is not too early in your term to consider your legacy. Let it be known, that when confronted with a choice between mutilation and exaltation, you rose to the occasion.

In Jameson Veritas

Technorati Tags: Christians, Cialis, circumcision, Crusades, erectile dysfunction, impotence, Levitra, Muslims, penis, Pope Urban II, premature ejaculation, Viagra
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The Kindle 2 Campaign: Success???

On March 1st, I launched my campaign to get Amazon to send me a free Kindle 2 to evaluate, even appealing to their brilliant, savant-extraordinare CEO, Jeffrey P. Bezos that such a gift would bring him great happiness.  (Desperate people will try anything)

Having successfully convinced the marketing geniuses at Jameson Irish Whiskey to send me free samples of their product, including some of the most rare and marvelous, it occurred to me that I'd perhaps developed a new skill: giftiness, the art of getting companies to send me free gifts.

After considerable thought, I decided that the Kindle 2 would be a reasonable second effort, even though I haven't freely promoted it as much as I had Jameson. 

Truth be told, I'm suspicious of any technology that might replace the printed word, but being a fair, open-minded, avaricious kind of guy, I declared a willingness to fairly evaluate the Kindle 2.  If I found it worthy of my support, I'd become a slavish promoter. 

Having made famous (sort of) my Jameson slogan, In Jameson Veritas, I offered the following to Amazon, Vita Brevis, Kindle2 Longa. 

Omigosh.  I have so much to learn from the master self-promoter, Stephen Colbert.  I never mentioned that I was such an early and frequent customer of Amazon that they sent me a mouse pad as a Christmas present.  Hey, any Amazon people reading this, make note of that please.  I'm not just an Amazon-Come-Lately!

So far, the response from Amazon has been encouraging.  No lawyer calls telling me to cease and desist or they'll put a lien on my home, a foolish gesture since it's worth about $3.45 in today's market.  And no e-mails telling me to get a life.  And no black SUVs driving by my house, stopping suspiciously, and then moving on.

Silence isn't necessarily bad.  Old Thomas Moore, when challenged by Henry VIII to support his booting out the Catholic Church and starting his own so he could get married again, responded by saying nothing.  According to British Common Law, silence means consent.  Of course, Moore got beheaded, but Henry was a bit of a lunatic, a characteristic one would never associate with anyone at Amazon.

Therefore, I take their silence as consenting to my request.

I don't approach my mailbox with excitement and anxiety.  Nor do I race out when the UPS or Fedex trucks come rolling by, although I confess I do keep an eye out for them.  Hey, it takes time for someone to do the paperwork and get the order moving.

So I want to take this opportunity to thank Mr. Bezos and the good people at Amazon for their generosity and their confidence that'll I'll find the Kindle 2 superior to traditional books. Thank You.

In Jameson Veritas
Vita Brevis, Kindle2 Longa

Technorati Tags: Amazon, giftiness, Henry VIII, Jameson Irish Whiskey, Jeffrey Bezos, Kindle2, Stephen Colbert, Thomas Moore
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We Launch The "Send Me A Kindle 2" Campaign

For those of you unfamiliar with my newly discovered giftiness, learned at the feet of the master of shameless self-promotion, the great Stephen Colbert, you might want to quickly peruse two articles trumpeting my success in getting the good folks at Jameson Irish Whiskey to reward me for my long-term support via my tag line, In Jameson Veritas.  First.  Second.  (Latest news:  I’ve received Jameson Rarest Vintage Reserve, an extraordinary whiskey that rivals the finest cognacs, and I have been assured other premium Jameson products are on the way.)

I have spent the last few months pondering my next move.  I considered Ferrari, but even if I were able to convince them to send me one, I probably couldn’t afford the upkeep.  How about a nice 42” HDTV with a Bose surround sound system?  Good choice.  Likelihood of success, minimal.  A Wii would be great, but I discovered years ago that those games had advanced far beyond my aging abilities.

Last Thanksgiving, at a friend’s house, I discovered that she owned a Kindle.  I scoffed and sneered in my best condescending fashion.  Books are books, not electronic bits and bytes held in a small device.  Books are to be cherished.  One stands before a well-stocked book shelf and is at peace with the world.  Running fingers over the bindings in search of something to read or simply remembering fondly the joy of reading a certain work would be lost if the book shelves were bare and all one had was a 8" x 5.3" x 0.36"…gizmo.  While I do have CD players, I also still have my turntable and vinyl albums, most older than Amazon itself (although, if I must be honest, playing records is a pain in the ass).

Amazon claims that Kindle 2 holds 1500 books, but of what good are those books if you can’t see them, pick them up, and feel their life flow?  Kindle for me?  Never.  Alas, even as I pontificated about how Kindle was the harbinger of the end of modern society as we know it, there was another part of me greedily eyeing that little toy, wanting to play with it, discover its secrets, get lost in its hypnotic embrace.

Ok, I love gadgets.  I’ve paralyzed my computer more times than I can count downloading programs and gadgets and gizmos and whatever, most of which I discovered were of minimal interest…and many of which turned my hard drive into mush.  But I still love them, reading any story about the latest cool Google tool, the newest ad-ins for Outlook or Internet Explorer, the dizzying capabilities of new cell phones, the continual, brilliant innovations at Amazon.com.  (See…plug.)

Last week, on “The Colbert Report,” Mr. Colbert made an offhanded comment about the new Kindle, saying that he’ll be waiting.  I’m sure the people at Amazon learned of that and, even as we speak—or I write, are in heated discussions about whether and when to send their newest product to the Master.

I, sadly, have no award-winning TV show from which to launch my “Send Me A Kindle 2” campaign and must rely on blogging to convince the Amazonians that winning over a hardcore book lover would be an incredible coup, one that they could use in advertising and promotions to infiltrate the secret cabal of book lovers who’ve sworn blood oaths to never step onto that slippery slope into technoland. 

There’s another issue to overcome.  The Jameson generosity came after I’d already demonstrated my slavish devotion to their product, and In Kindle Veritas doesn’t quite have the same je ne sais quois as In Jameson Veritas, does it?  Plus, my loyalty and appreciation to the Jameson gods shall never be compromised.  Finally, even if I could find a good tag line, such as Gimme A Kindle or Vita Brevis, Kindle 2 Longa (very loosely, Life is Short, Kindle Lives Forever), how would it look to have two tag lines for every article and comment? 

That actually is not a rhetorical question.  Are two taglines gauche?  Would I become an object of ridicule and contempt?  Would I no longer be taken seriously as a serious observer of serious political and social issues?  Your thoughts about this vexing problem are welcome.

At the least, I shall state plainly for all (at Amazon) to see:  I will give your Kindle 2 a fair test, despite my bias for real books, and, if converted, will accept the baptismal Kindle rites and become not just a true believer but a shameless promoter of the product and how it will heal all the ills of modern society.  Books?  Pshaw!  Who needs them?  They take up room, they get dusty, most fall apart if you read them more than five or six times.  And you can never find the one you want, especially if your bride wants to display them based on size, color, and hard vs. soft cover.

So, how about it, Amazon?  Given my sad economic straits, I cannot afford to buy one.  Just putting food on the table for my bride, myself, and our 21-year-old Siamese is difficult enough—particularly because this seven-pound monster eats more than the two of us combined.  I have confidence that our President will turn the economy around no later than 2018, but that’s a little long to wait.  I’m a boomer.  I need instant gratification.  

Take a risk, Jeffrey P. Bezos, Amazon’s Founder and Chief Executive Officer, and direct your minions to send me a Kindle 2 post haste.  You have nothing to lose, but everything to gain.  (That sounds familiarly like some stupid TV advertisement, but I can’t remember which one.)  And if you hesitate, consider that heart-warming old standard made famous by Jimmy Durante, “Make Someone Happy.”  It ends with “…and you will be happy too.” You deserve happiness, and, Lord knows, money—even billions and billions and billions of money—won’t make you happy. 

With deep humility, I am willing to be the agent of your improved sense of well being.

Thank you for your consideration.  

In Jameson Veritas
Vita Brevis, Kindle2 Longa

Technorati Tags: giftiness, Stephen Colbert, Jameson, Kindle2, Jeffrey Bezos, Amazon, In Jameson Veritas
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Political Morality - When Simple Just Won't Do

Come, let us all celebrate the new spirit of bipartisanship that's sweeping the land. The air is cleaner, the water tastes like it came from a mountain stream, poverty is being erased, global warming has been tamed, the economy is robust. And, inside the beltway, one sees a new spirit of compromise and cooperation that makes it a snap to resolve thorny moral/political issues such as the right of medical providers to not engage in practices that violate their religious or moral views.

For example, just Saturday, The Washington Post reported on the administration's rollback of a Bush administration regulation protecting health care workers who didn't want to perform abortions or engage in other medical practices they found objectionable.

"We've been concerned that the way the Bush rule is written, it could make it harder for women to get the care they need," said an HHS official who spoke on the condition of anonymity for the same reason. "It is worded so vaguely that some have argued it could limit family-planning counseling and even potentially blood transfusions and end-of-life care."

Okay, that's reasonable, right? The Bushers were too extreme. Let's find common ground

Interested parties from across the political spectrum reacted to the announcement with a refreshing and long awaited tone of reconciliation and good will, all seeking a reasonable solution to this latest regulatory Gordian knot. The administration noted that people have 30 days to comment on its action, and that they're willing to compromise.

Don'tcha just love that word -- compromise. Makes ya feel all warm and fuzzy inside like ya just swallowed a large, hairy caterpillar, and it's dancing in your belly.

Consider the thoughtful comments of David Stevens, head of the Christian Medical & Dental Associations: "It is open season to again discriminate against health-care professionals. Our Founding Fathers, who bled and died to guarantee our religious freedom, are turning over in their graves."

Or, on the other side, look at how willing some are to seek regulatory changes that meet all needs. "Our general feeling is this was an area that does not cry out for further clarification," said Marcia D. Greenberger, co-president of the National Women's Law Center. "I would be skeptical."

Yes, Obama Nation has brought us beyond the dark and divisive politics of extremism and ideological purity to a new world of — well — extremism and ideological purity. But it's different, right? I mean, you can just feel the love. Oh, my fellow Americans, be the love. (Without sex, of course.)

So here we are, trapped in a moronic debate over something the solution to which is too simple for complex minds to comprehend. Ladies and gentlemen of the far left and right, get a fucking life, please — for all our sakes. If nothing else, you're boring most of us to death, and there's not much worse a condemnation of anyone than being called boring.

It is simple, you melon-brained barbarians. I will spell it out in simple language even a member of Congress can understand.

1. No health-care workers shall be required to perform any procedure or engage in any activity they believe violates their moral or religious beliefs. Is that so hard to understand? Can any sentient being think this wrong? And for you pragmatists, would you really want health care from someone acting under duress? Getting treatment is scary enough these days--why make it worse?
2. All medical professionals have a fundamental, moral responsibility to see that patients receive the treatment they desire. Is this too complex for you? You may not approve of abortion, and it's your right to say no, but, as a member of the medical community and a member of society, you cannot impose your moral or religious views on others. Think blood transfusions are evil? Okay, that's cool, if weird. But recognize that others may not share your belief. You chose this job knowing the responsibilities to patients it requires. Just say no and pass them on to someone who says yes.
3. Ergo (Latin for "If you don't get it, pound rocks), all those identified in number 1, above, must ensure that those patients are referred to appropriate health-care providers in a way that makes it easy for them to receive treatment. Show them the same respect you're being showed. It's your ethical responsibility to see that the hand off happens before you relieve yourself. No sending people to clinics in Lithuania; no lectures, pamphlets, or spitting; no pretending to be deaf.

Any institution that tries to force people to engage in stuff they find yucky is in violation of the law and shall be punished accordingly. Any health-care worker who gives a patient a referral slip written in Tagalog shall be warned. Subsequent infractions could result in fines, reassignment, dismissal, or being tarred, feathered, and run out of town on a rail.

This approach does require a modicum of maturity and mutual respect. Aye, there's the rub. But, we hasten to add, this rub is no longer abrasive in our president's new world. Smile on your neighbor. Tear down that wall. Take an Indian to Lunch.*

We all know that Congress, activists and do-gooders, extremists from across the political spectrum and the media hate, simply hate simplicity. Boys and girls, how can they do their jobs if problem resolution was as simple as being reasonable and respectful? Congressional sessions would last weeks rather than the three months they're actually in session. Activists and religious purists would find themselves in the Sahara fund-less desert. And the media would be left with nothing to report.

Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I ran the D.C. office for an international public relations firm. We handled some controversial issues, and there was one inviolate rule: If we're hired to work on an issue or for a company that you find objectionable, you have the right to say no, and no one would think the worse of you for it. Quite the opposite, I made it clear that I had a lot of respect for those who had the courage to refuse an assignment. I also made it clear that if one refused all assignments on ethical grounds, then we'd probably sit down and talk about helping one find other employment.

It worked. One of my best people told me he couldn't work on a controversial environmental assignment. As associate director, I told my boss that I wouldn't work for a certain company with a history of abusive employment practices in Asian sweat shops. And virtually no one would work for tobacco companies.

See, the spirit of Obama lived back in the '80s and '90s. Shows you just how powerful this guy is. I mean, back then, he was in Indonesia or something.

So let us all join hands and do the Snoopy happy dance in celebration of our brave new world. Or as the French would say, Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose, or the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Ah... to have reached the mountain top.

*Stan Freberg's album, The United States of America, The Early Years

In Jameson Veritas*

 

*Now, I must confess, a paid political announcement.

Technorati Tags: abortion, bipartisanship, Bush, health care workers, morality, Obama, politics
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Take That, Stephen Colbert! Jameson Delivers, Part Two

Dear Reader, To fully understand this extraordinary challenge to Stephen Colbert's brilliant, blatant self-promotional skills, I urge you to first read the first two articles in this series: article one and article two. Or, ignore them. After all, it's not Shakespeare.

As promised by my angel of cirrhosis, Shelley Lewis, PR pro extraordinare of The Thomas Collective (one can't help but wonder, collective of what? I hope dear Shelley isn't being held captive)... anyway, Shelley arranged for me to speak with a most delightful representative of Jameson Irish Whiskey, Frankie Pezzella. Hardly an Irish lass, as she'll admit, and, despite my best efforts to drag her into dangerous territory, she demonstrated time and time again her ability to avoid the lures dangling in front of her.

She is, on the other hand, a bright, charming, delightful person with a sparkling sense of humor... in that she laughed at my jokes.

I approached the interview carefully. I had specific wants in mind, although I knew it would be strategically inadvisable to blurt them out. So I began our phone interview with an approach straight out of Miss Mannners.*

First of all, I must thank you for the case of Jameson and the bottle of Midleton.

Oh, you're welcome. Have you been enjoying it?

Absolutely, although I haven’t touched the Midleton yet. It's still in its box. I take it out from time to time, admire it, say a silent prayer of thanks to the gods of Jameson. After all, it's not something you just open and slug down.

You're definitely one who knows how to enjoy their Jameson. [First indication that she's really good at her job.]

Besides thanking you, I want you to know that I'm committed to continuing to promote Jameson. I'll do whatever I can to help out. By the way, what is your job there?

I'm a senior brand manager on Jameson.

What’s that mean? [This sounds good. Senior is a good title. Maybe this is the person who has the authority to improve my giftiness.]

We work with the brand director in the States and with the Irish distillers in Ireland. [We??? There's more than one? That's not good.] A senior brand manager handles marketing, promotion, and public relations. We work across the board to increase Jameson's share of voice and sales volume.

How’d you get your job?

Well, I'd known Jameson well and had been working in spirits for a long time. There was an opening to work for Jameson, and I asked for it.

Yeah, sure. Come on, how’d you really get that job?

I interviewed for it like everyone else.

So it appears that you're not going to tell me the truth, huh? You're going to stick to the party line. I guess you don’t want to get anybody at Jameson in trouble.

No, no, no… it's not the party line. There's no big story.

[Obviously, there's a really big story here, a scandal that could propel me to the front page of the National Enquirer. But I tread carefully. Do a little research and nail her on the second interview.]

I’ll accept that. By the way, are there any of your jobs available? I mean, I've done public relations for a long time. I can market. So you got any marketing jobs for me?

Not at the moment, but you never know when we’re going to be expanding the staff, the team. But what you're doing is pretty important as an advocate of Jameson and spreading the word. Really, you are on the team.

[She is so slick. What a smart transition. I'm part of the team — the free, volunteer team. No wonder she's a senior brand manager.]

Yeah, I’m on the team, but I think there's more I can do. For example, I was thinking what a terrific marketing move it would be to make me Jameson's international spokesperson.

Wow, that is... that’s an impressive title. [She's laughing, but is it a laugh of delight or derision? Only time will tell.]

Yeah, I thought so too. Look, if that's asking too much, maybe just the spokesperson for northern Virginia. I’m not proud.

Mmmm. [She laughs, but I'm not sure...Hmmm.] You know what?

What?

I don’t think we have that position, but I’ll talk to the powers that be. I can’t promise you anything, but I think it’s an interesting prospect. It’s beyond my authority though.

[I wonder if it's truly beyond her authority or if this is a just a polite brush-off. What would Stephen Colbert do in this situation? I know. Change the subject and introduce a really big idea.]

So, you folks don’t do TV advertising.

Not at the moment…

I look good on TV, I really do. I’ve done a lot of TV, and I make up well with the right wig and clothes. I could be terrific on TV, particularly with the things you don’t talk about, like the curative properties of Jameson. [Voila, a really big idea. Let her reject his one!]

Oh, you think there are curative properties for Jameson?

You don’t?

[Whoa. I hear something knocking on my door. Could it be opportunity... like a new way to promote the brand? Wait a minute. I'll check. Rats, it was someone trying to get me to sign some stupid petition to save a moose that Sarah Palin shot. Like that's my problem.]

I know that Jameson tastes great.

Hey, Frankie, apple juice tastes great. Cherries taste great. Even beets, cooked correctly, taste great. That’s not one of your better promotional slogans: Jameson Tastes Great. Face it, lots of things taste great.

So how did you discover a taste for Jameson? [Note how cleverly she changes the subject. This woman is a master of managing interviews.]

Many years ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I went to a friend's house, and they gave me a taste. Truth be told, it's similar to how marijuana leads to heroin — it was that kind of thing. One taste and I was hooked, absolutely shackled. It satisfies that primal need for exactly the right blend of herbs and spices — whatever the hell goes in it — that the cave man in us requires, or the cave woman as the case might be. [Okay, let's see how good she really is.] You know, I've tried other Irish whiskeys, and I've got a question. Why does Jameson taste better than Bushmills?

I like Jameson for the taste. It’s really smooth, the triple distillation process, the quality that Irish distillers and blenders ensure in every step of the process, and the ingredients. Jameson really controls the process from grain to glass every step of the way.

So you're saying that the Bushmills people are sloppy?

I’m not saying that. I’m saying that the Jameson people are working off a recipe that John Jameson created back in 1780, and they've stayed true to that. I don’t say anything about anything except Jameson because that’s what I know.

So you won’t get into a discussion of why Jameson is better… a direct comparison with other Irish whiskeys?

No, that’s not my thing. You can draw your own comparisons.

You know, a lack of confrontation makes for lousy copy.

[Laughing... nervously perhaps?] We’re just talking among friends here. [Friends? Yeah, all my Internet friends.]

Oh no, this is going on Blogcritics and my blog, and I’m going to promote the hell out of it all over the Internet to all 23 of my faithful readers.

[Okay, enough Mr. Nice Guy. Let's get to the important stuff before I lose what few readers I may have snookered.]

You remember how red wine sales went up when they found it does all sorts of wonderful things for you? We need the same shtick for Jameson. Have you guys done any studies to see if there are health benefits associated with drinking massive quantities of your product?

Not that I know of, but that’s not my area of expertise. I can check into it and let you know, because that’s an interesting area.

(Come on, Frankie, it's not like I just fell off the public relations rutabaga truck. I've used that trick thousands of time. So has Sarah Palin for god's sake.)

Here's another option. It's a lot cheaper. I could just make up health studies that claim that drinking Jameson not only improves your heart, liver, and brain functions, but it makes you a kinder, gentler person. Best of all, it grows hair on bald heads. Then I could promote that.

[Now this is a nervous laugh.] Well, you know, well, that’s your choice, I can’t support or deny that because I don’t know…

You don’t want to go to jail?

I really want to keep my job because I do love it.

So you’re not a big risk taker when it comes to completely fabricated health studies?

I really love my job [Ah ha! I'm getting to her, I can tell. She's starting to repeat herself. Obviously there was no media training for this line of inquiry.] So there are certain things I won’t do unless I know for sure.

[Time to turn to something that'll ease her tension. So I ask her about her job.]

The second week on the job, I went to Ireland for the launch of Jameson Rarest Vintage Reserve.

Jameson Rarest Vintage Reserve? I’ve never even heard of it.

Ah… it is the pinnacle of Jameson. It’s a new brand that we launched earlier in the year. Our four master distillers took the rarest spirits that we have and created this beautiful, beautiful tasting blend.

How does it compare to Midleton? [What's going on here? I thought I'd scored a coup with them sending me all that booze, but they were holding out on me.]

It has a different taste profile. Midleton is a combination of our master distillers' favorite blends and spirits, while the Reserve has our finest and oldest whiskeys in it, they’re between 19 and 24 years old.

[Okay, no more Mr. Subtle.]How come I didn’t get a bottle of that?

Well, that’s a good question. We didn’t know you then.

Ah, so it was Shelley who arranged the case?

Yes.

So is Shelley getting a promotion or a bonus out of this?

[Deftly avoiding the question.] We knew that you loved Midleton, so Shelley sent you bottle of that.

[Gotta keep the pressure up. She's as slippery as an eel coated in Crisco.] Let's return to this Jameson Rare Vintage Reserve. That's another reason why you need me to be your international spokesperson because I don’t think anybody knows about this.

I’m sure more people could know about it. We’ll have to get you to try it and enjoy it. There aren’t that many bottles out there; we don’t have a lot here in the States, and, during the process of making it, a good portion evaporates and goes up to the angels.

[Another good reason to fake a strong affinity for God.]

There may be a surprise coming for your soon. [Did she really say that? Let me check the tape again. YES!]

That’d be good. I'll be checking the UPS and FedEx trucks every day. Excuse me, let me run out and see. Rats, not yet. By the way, I'm not crazy about Jameson 12-year-old.

Have you tried Jameson Gold?

I’ve never seen Jameson Gold. [These bastards have been keeping me in the dark. Maybe it's time for a new slogan.]

That’s a new launch… it's a 15-year-old. But the 18-year-old is my favorite.

[Feebly] Eighteen-year-old?

There's Jameson regular; 12-year-old; gold, which is a little more spicy, woodier, matured in virgin oak barrels; 18-year-old, which is my personal favorite; Jameson Rare Vintage Reserve, and the line of Midleton.

[By this point, I can barely speak. Hell, I can barely breathe. Who knew? How could I have lived in so much ignorance for so long? Colbert never would have been so naive.]

I have to tell you, I'm a little concerned about brand dilution. Plus, you're not out there letting people know what a harvest of plenty is available. That's why you need me to be your international spokesperson. [Am I pushing this too hard?]

I can understand your concern because we have so much out there, but I don’t see that as an issue because everybody likes something a little bit different. And you're not going to drink your 18-year-old every day, you'll wait for the right time and people to drink it with.

[Going for the kill. No pain, no gain.] You know, if you sent me a full collection of your entire brand list, I could do a taste test and report on that. I could write about the subtle differences among them.

Well, I don’t see that as being an issue at all, not at all.

[Trying to speak without squeaking.] Really?

No. In fact, if I was coming down anytime soon, I’d be there and do a taste test with you.

[You mean I'd have to share?]

[Let's get her off this visiting and sharing bullshit idea.] About my tag line, In Jameson Veritas. I’m wondering, it would be a powerful slogan for Jameson. Are you guys willing to pay me outrageous royalties for its use? I would be honored to sell it to you for a lot of money.

You know, I can’t speak to that one… interesting proposition.

[Speak, speak, my little fish circling the bright lure.] Think of the ads.

It’s one of those things I’ll have to get back to you on.

[She may be nice, but if I'm going to get what I want, I need to escalate this thing.]

Yeah, you know, I probably should talk to the president of Jameson because a lot of this is high-level promotional stuff, and I need a decision-maker to make me wealthy and keep me continually slathered in Jameson.

Yeah… I can take care of sending you other products, but you're asking me really tough questions, and I don’t have the authority to make a decision, but I’ll raise it up the line.

[Well, at least I may get some more product.]

I understand. You know, really, all of this is simply designed to help you guys. I am completely dedicated to helping Jameson, and I have absolutely no personal financial stake in this other than I want a lot of money.

[There's a lot more, but certain topics shouldn't be discussed on the Internet.]

I don’t want to take up too much more of your time, but if you can get back to me on these important issues like increasing my wealth... I mean improving promotional opportunities for Jameson, that’d be great.

I will definitely raise those questions and get back to you as soon as I can.

And if they want to interview me, I can come up to New York, or if they want to fly me to Ireland, first class of course, I can do that at the drop of a hat, because international spokesperson is a big job, I understand that.

Yeah, I’ve not heard of that title before, but it’s an interesting proposition.

You can tell them I’m 6' 2", very slim, buff I think is the word, dress real well, dark hair, kind of like a Sean Connery type.

But no Irish accent.

Hey, that's not a problem. I can work one up pretty quickly.

Would that be authentic?

Authenticity is something other people have to worry about. Lass, we’re not looking for authenticity, we’re looking for sales.

Oh… you make me laugh. [Great, but it's not getting me what I want. Laugh is cheap, my dear.]

It’s the truth. But if they do fly me to Ireland, make sure they’ve had lots to drink before they meet me because that way they might actually believe I’m 6' 2" and buff and all the rest, young, vibrant… the kind of guy who can sell to the 30- and 40-year-olds. Wait, unless we do a grandfather thing. That’s it, the noble sage offering the Jameson wisdom of the ages to the young and innocent.

[Somewhat dryly.] The noble sage. Well, I love that you're so much of a fan and promoter of Jameson. And I’ll definitely raise these issues.

Okay, but don’t do it at your peril. Be safe about it. [But be vigorous and pushy and demanding and indefatigable.)

End of interview, sort of.

In Jameson Veritas

*Actual interview edited for clarity, flow, and to make me sound as clever as possible

Technorati Tags: giftiness, Jameson Irish Whiskey, Midleton, Miss Manners, Sarah Palin, Stephen Colbert
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Questions for President-Elect Obama

Estimates for attendance at the inauguration of our next governmental diety, Barack Obama, have been reevaluated since the alarming totals first suggested.  Based on better information from tour bus operators, police experts, the secret service, and famed medium, Madame Zalarama, experts are confident that Washington D.C. will receive no more than 230 to 240 million visitors. 

Inauguration planners have been scrambling to figure out where to house all these people, but, according to spokesperson, Jillie McMansion, "Burned-out homes in the worst sections of town are renting for $100,000 an hour; they're going like hot cakes.  People don't seem to mind sleeping fifteen to twenty to a room, the armed guards, or the drug dealers hanging around the front steps."  She added, "In fact, many are asking for places with a plethora of dealers.  I don't know why." 

Just about every celebrity in the world is planning to attend.  Knowledgeable sources inside the soon-to-be administration are even suggesting that the celebrity attendees will include Jesus, Moses, and Mohammed...if they can get rooms.  Jesus has said he'd be happy with a simple manger in a barn; Moses is looking for a large bush; I'm not going to risk saying what Mohammed wants--who needs a fatwa on one's head at my age.

The crush of visitors shouldn't be a surprise.  The latest CNN poll has Obama's approval rating at 82%, higher than the Pope, Putin, Einstein, or even Jameson Irish Whiskey*.  "Barack Obama is having a better honeymoon with the American public than any incoming president in the past three decades," said Keating Holland, CNN's polling director.  Oko Yono, channeling her late husband, said on Fox News that "Obama is bigger than God." 

Uloff Tills, executive director of the Lithuanian Center for American Research noted, "With levels of approval this high, there is virtually nothing Mr. Obama cannot do.  We expect the world economy to be restored to its former glory soon after he takes the oath of office.  Like five, maybe ten minutes after.  Maybe twenty if it's snowing."

If public adoration weren't enough, the soon-to-be Prez is continuing his goal of being the most-buff president since...well, since forever.  Even a Washington Post writer in a front page article on this most celebrated of Christian holidays, virtually drooled in a description of the Hero-To-Be:  "The sun glinted off chiseled pectorals sculpted during four weightlifting sessions each week, and a body toned by regular treadmill runs and basketball games." 

Excuse me???  Chiseled pectorals?  Sculpted?  Have we given up any hope of letting this poor schmuck just be a human being who happened to get elected president?

Apparently not.

In that case, I have a number of questions I'd like to submit to Mr. Obama that I believe are reasonable given his stature, status, and sainthood.  In the interest of making his task easier, the questions are multiple choice.

• When will you resolve the Israel-Palestinian issue? 
  1. February 1, 2009
  2. As soon as I can arrange for the Chinese to assume control over Jerusalem
  3. As soon as Hamas stops bombing Israel and visa versa, which should give me plenty of breathing room. 
  4. What's the next question?
• How soon will the housing crisis be solved?
  1. February 1, 2009...or 2010...or maybe 2011
  2. As soon as the Chinese lend us another 25 trillion dollars
  3. When John McCain agrees to buy 2,500 homes...every week...for a long time
  4. Excuse me, I've got a call on my cell phone
• What are the nation's health care issues most in need of attention?
  1. Curing male pattern baldness
  2. Lots o' fat little children who should be working out to get as buff as I
  3. The incredible abuse of cosmetic surgery by baby boomers who should just live with the fact that they're getting really, really old.  Deal with it.
• So why did you ask Senator Clinton to be Secretary of State...really?
  1. She has extraordinary experience dodging bullets in hostile environments
  2. She rejected the post of Ambassador to Lithuania
  3. No one else wanted the job.   Do you have any idea what's going on in the world today?
• If there is one wish you could have granted, which isn't outside the realm of possibility given that one god & two major prophets are going to be at your inauguration, what would it be?
  1. World peace
  2. Safe cigarettes
  3. A new IPhone...that my staff will let me use
  4. That Sarah Palin never, ever gives another interview
• Do you have second thoughts about being president given that there's virtually nothing in the world that's working?
  1. I have faith in the willingness of the American people to...to...just leave it at I have faith in the American people, o.k.?
  2. No, I passed through second thoughts months ago.  I'm up to 353rd thoughts, and that doesn't count Michelle's.
  3. Second thoughts?  Dude, have you seen my approval ratings?
• What kind of tree would you be, if you were a tree?
  1. A mighty oak
  2. A Ponderosa Pine
  3. A Weeping Willow
• So, Barack (may I call you Barack), what's the chance of my getting a cool appointment in your administration?
  1. We will consider all applications and make decisions based solely on qualifications
  2. How about Ambassador to Lithuania?
  3. Who the hell are you, anyway?
  4. No, you may not call me Barack.

Sheesh, talk about a testy president elect.  Anyway, I'm sure some close advisor to Obama will read this article and submit the questions to him.  And I'm confident we'll have answers soon, which I will faithfully reveal to all.

And in this time of reflection and desperation, I leave you with one truth that, despite all the turmoil and uncertainty in our world, remains unassailable:

In Jameson Veritas

* Given what has transpired, I suppose I should say that this is a paid commercial announcement.  At least as long as the stock holds out.

Take That, Stephen Colbert. Jameson Delivers! Part One

(Dear Reader, to fully understand the extraordinary events described below, I urge you to first read this article.)

Yesterday, a day like any other, had been toodling along nicely. No nasty financial surprises, no visit by IRS tax auditors or Homeland Security goons in black cars, black suits, and black moods, no attacks by rabid squirrels desperately seeking substitutes for acorns (which seem to have disappeared in this area...but that's a different story.)

As I blithely check my junk e-mail file, because I am a careful tech-type person, my eyes wander down the list of offers of discount drugs, sex toys to create pleasure for my wife the likes of which she'd never imagined, notices of people looking for me, and the like, and I see an e-mail from one Shelley Lewis. I don't know her. Then I look at the subject.

 

Holy ghosts of Christmas Future, that's my official tagline.  It can't be spam.  Has my appeal to the Masters of Irish Whiskey been heard?  Is this...kismet?

I gingerly click on it to read the message.  Suddenly, Stephen Colbert is no longer the sole master of insane self-promotion.  I, a humble scribe, known to few and beloved by even fewer, have bested Colbert at his own game.  Read it and weep, Stephen (if I may call you Stephen, now that we're equals.)  Here's her e-mail.

Hi Mark,

I do the public relations for Jameson Irish Whiskey in the U.S. and although we can’t offer you the position of international spokesperson, we would like to send you that case of Jameson and bottle of Midleton Very Rare. Can you please let me know where we should send it?

In Jameson Veritas,
Shelley
--
Shelley Lewis
The Thomas Collective

I call the bride over, and I can see a new respect and admiration growing in her eyes as she reads the message.  Then we both laugh our asses off.  I mean, this has to be real.  My newest bestest friend, Shelley, gives her address and phone number. 

It is too late to call her, but first thing this morning, I'm on the phone.  Even had she not arranged this gift (oh how sad is the English language that all I must call this is a gift.  A scarf is a gift; new pajamas are a gift; Colbert's IPod was a gift.  Nay, this sublime offer transcends giftiness...words fail.)  Where was I?  Oh, yeah, she was a charming woman who acknowledged she had the best job in the whole world as her firm does public relations for Jameson in the U.S.

I wanted to interview her, but, good PR person as she is, she demurred and offered to arrange an interview with a real Jameson person.

And so it goes.  Soon, I will report on the conversation with this representative from the nectar of the gods.  I will let you, my faithless readers, know if I can convince them that I would be an excellent international spokesperson for Jameson...or if not international, perhaps in the Commonwealth of Virginia.  And, last but certainly not least, I will reveal my next giftiness scheme.  Of course, In Jameson Veritas will remain my tagline for eternity or death, whichever comes first, but there must be other ways to wheedle free stuff from companies.

Stay tuned.  And, to Mr. Colbert, don't look back.  I may be closing in on you.

In Jameson Veritas  

Technorati Tags: giftiness, Jameson Irish Whiskey, Midleton Very Rare, Stephen Colbert
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Drill, Baby, Drill...But Don't Kill The Baby

Even with oil prices falling as fast as Bush's approval rating, there's no question but that the world demand for petroleum-based energy sources is going to continue to increase at an unsustainable rate.  Also, during the recent election, the Republicans made the surprisingly intelligent statement that we shouldn't be sending billions of bucks to countries who not only hate us but spread terrorism.  (You know who they are.) 

On the other hand, the U.S. could put oil rigs on every possible site we control, and we wouldn't see an ounce of oil for ten years or more.  Oh, say they the elephants, but it'd send a clear message to the oil producers that America is not to be trifled with.  Sure, our puny percentage of recoverable oil is going to strike fear and loathing into their hearts.

But in the waning days of the Bush Empire, the minions of the man from Texas have been hard at work using executive orders to eviscerate environmental laws, and, today, announced a major effort to increase drilling for oil and gas on sensitive public lands.  The Washington Post's front page sported a charming story about drilling near some of the most spectacular natural sites Utah has to offer.

"It's possible to drill in environmentally sensitive areas in safe ways," says White House spokesman Tony "I Am Not A Shill" Fratto.

The article notes that "Environmental activists said oil and gas drilling on the 210 remaining parcels could jeopardize air quality and other natural features of some of the country's most treasured national parks, such as Arches, Canyonlands and Capitol Reef, along with the Grand Staircase-Escalante and Dinosaur national monuments." 

I fully admit I know as much about the improvements in drilling technology as I do about hair restoration claims, but there is one thing I do know: 

Don't screw up Arches, Canyonlands, and Capitol Reef!

I've been to those places, walked in wonder through Arches National Park, stood upon a high hill and looked into the magical mazes of Canyonlands (and someday hope to go back and get lost in them,) and stood in awe of Capital Reef. 

You can put a value on a barrel of oil, but you can't put a value on an aesthetic or spiritual experience that arises when in the presence of one of nature's most extraordinary experiments.  I'm not a religious person but sitting on a rock in Arches simply taking in the sights and sounds of this desert masterpiece is a spiritual experience.  If we could get all the warring people in the world to spend a couple of hours there together, they'd all come out holding hands and singing "Michael Row The Boat Ashore."  (O.k., so I exaggerate...for a good cause.)

Bush has no right to pull this nonsense so close to the end of his reign.  At the same time, if the oil and gas companies could prove, really demonstrate to neutral experts that they could drill in these places without screwing them up and, most important, when they're done, leaving them in exactly the same condition as when they found them, I might reluctantly agree...that is if someone gives me a vote or a voice in the matter.

So drill.  It's going to take decades for us to figure out reasonable alternatives to our oil-dependent economy but while you're drilling, leave the babies healthy and happy.  They're just as valuable...if not more...than the glob or gas you're going to suck from the earth.

Curmudgeon-At-Large

In Jameson Veritas 

Technorati Tags: Bush, oil, natural gas, Utah, Arches National Park, Canyonlands, Capital Reef, drilling, environment
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Stephen Colbert & Jameson Irish Whiskey: I Learn From The Master

Comedy Central’s Stephen Colbert is perhaps the most successful self promoter in the history of the human race.  All others are but pale copies of his masterful manipulation of the cosmic realm. 

 

When he wanted to run for president, he got Doritos to fund his campaign; likewise, Doritos footed the bill when he wanted to spent a week in Pennsylvania during the Democratic primary.  All Colbert had to do was munch Doritos on his set for a few days.  If Doritos hadn’t been in the tank for him, they could have demanded he appear on stage covered in chips tastefully pasted all over his body with scantily clad men & women artfully pulling one after another off and eating them.  Now that would have been a reasonable trade off.

He whined for a year to get an Apple IPhone…and they finally gave him one.  His DNA is in space, he’s got a spider, an eagle, a worm, a lethal virus, a terrorist group (Colbert’s Commies), and the Dahli Llama’s first kid named for him.  He even had his picture hung in the National Portrait Gallery in D.C.

 

I don’t know what he promised Marvel Comics, but they’ve become enslaved to the Colbert

hypnotic gaze.  Those who thought his presidential campaign dead might be surprised to find that Spiderman thinks it’s alive and well.

 

In the Amazing Spider Man #573, “Spiderman & Stephen Colbert Team Up,” comes the line, "I might be wrong, but I don't believe Spider-Man's really into endorsing anyone for the White House," stated Peter Parker. "It shouldn't matter what Spidey thinks of the guy; it's up to the public to decide if Colbert can handle all the great power and responsibility that being President entails."

 

And for those of you who think Obama really won the election, here’s Marvel’s take on it.

 

 

 

When he wins two Peabodies and an Emmy (for best writing, not best show…neener, neener, neener,) he not only displays them endlessly, he demands to know if guests, such as authors who can’t win emmys, have won any.  Then he proudly points to his.  (Since Colbert will never read this, I will say it was a well deserved Emmy; it may be the best written comedy show on TV.)

 

Not finally, but enough is enough, his website, Colbert Nation, isn’t even part of Comedy Central’s site—it’s a stand alone one.  What chutzpa.  What arrogance.  What brilliant promotion of his ever-rising brand…the rat.

 

Why am I, you might ask, a humble scribe in search of an agent—while Colbert’s book, I Am American and So Can You, hits the best sellers list—railing against the unfairness of so many doing so much for Colbert for so little?

 

Blame Jameson Irish whiskey.  For many months, when I was an editor, frequent contributor, and commenter on BlogCritics, (BC) a self-described “sinister cabal of superior writers,” my tagline was In Jameson Veritas.  It followed every post, every comment.  I praised the virtues of this fine whiskey time and time again.

And I, modest and self-effacing, never asked for a sou in return, whatever a sou is.  Had Jameson offered to make me its international spokesperson, I would have gladly accepted.  Had they sent me a case of Jameson, or even better, Middleton, the sine qua non (Latin for the best shit in the world) of Irish whiskeys, I would have gratefully accepted.

Even an e-mail from some low-level lackey saying, “hey, thanks for the free plugs, sucker,” would have at least demonstrated that they recognized my devotion to their brand.

But no, nothing, nada, nihilism…

And then, for reasons known only to a few medical specialists, I left the warm world of BlogCritics and returned to my humble cave in the mountains just outside D.C.  Many months later, I decided to check out my own friends at BC, and, to my amazement, shock, chagrin—o.k., I’ll cut down on the hysterics—I found that Jameson was actually advertising on the site.

They were spending money trying to push their liver-melting brand of fire water, and there was not even the least recognition that I had been responsible.  (While I’m ranting again, let it be known that I didn’t receive a percentage from BC for their new revenue.  That would have been a generous gesture, don’t you think?)

However, when the Jameson execs realized that their product was no longer being promoted frequently and freely—since I wasn’t there—they pulled their ads.

But now I return, albeit slowly to BlogCritics.  The Curmudgeon-At-Large still ends his posts and comments with In Jameson Veritas, but, let me warn you Jameson, I am taking a page from the book of the Great Stephen Colbert.  Nothing is for free anymore.  Make me an offer, or I may begin using In Bushmills Veritas.  So there.  The die is cast.  The glove has been thrown down.  The lamb is being led to the slaughter.

I think this is going to work…unless, of course, Jameson and Bushmills Irish whiskeys are made by the same brewer.  If that’s the case, I’m screwed.

Hmm.  I wonder if The MacCallan single-malt scotch whiskey is looking for an international spokesperson?

Curmudgeon-At-Large

In Jameson Veritas

Technorati Tags: Apple IPhone, Comedy Central, Doritos, humor, satire, Jameson Irish Whiskey, politics, Stephen Colbert
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Bush And Obama: What Transpired in the White House

President-elect Barack Obama made his first visit to the White House at the invitation of George Bush.  Although reporters were kept away from the meeting, and the two offered no remarks after the visit, your intrepid reporter has sources deep inside the presidential mansion and has learned much of what transpired between the two former adversaries. 

In addition, one can learn much from the media stories flooding the already besogged public brain sewers.

 

One news report noted that “Bush and Obama strolled down the White House colonnade side by side, chatting amiably.”

 

The walk was not as innocent as it might have seemed, a fact not lost to the nation’s media.  “A few minutes after the couples entered the White House together, Mr. Bush and Mr. Obama reemerged and strolled along the colonnade past the Rose Garden to the outer entrance to the Oval Office. Mr. Obama walked just at Mr. Bush’s shoulder and appeared to be speaking animatedly, gesturing with both hands. Each of the men waved several times to reporters and others off camera.”

As followers of the series, “West Wing,” will already know, that outside area is where presidents sneak out for a smoke or a quick hit off a flask.

 

“So, Barack, can I call you Barack?” asked the president.  Barack nodded and smiled, and George continued.  “This here area is the most important part of the part of the White House you’re going to have, you know?  Like, when you want to cage a butt from one of your aides, this is the place to go.” 

 

Bush looked around to make sure his wife, Laura, wasn’t within ear shot.  “She’s got ears like a fox,” he said.

 

“All wives do,” agreed the newcomer to world dominance.  “If I even think about a smoke, Michelle starts hollering.”

 

“Well, this is the place,” Bush said before they went into the oval office.  “By presidential decree, women aren’t allowed here.”

 

“What about blacks?” Obama asked.

 

“Old Harry Truman integrated the colonnade walk,” he said, “back in ’46, I believe.”

 

“Good man,” Obama said.

 

“For a Democrat, you betcha.”

 

After carefully examining this sanctuary, Obama said he was ready for the big moment:  The Oval Office.  Perhaps most significant, “Bush allowed Obama to enter the historic office first.”

 

“Someday, Barack, all this will be yours,” Bush said, “so you might as well get a good look without me being there, you know, doing a standing in your way thing or a quick Texas two-step.”

Josh Bolten, Bush’s chief of staff, let slip that, "I know the president will want to convey to President-elect Obama his sense of how to deal with some of the most important issues of the day."

 

For example, it is well known that first time visitors to the Oval Office often stand dumbstruck in awe of the history that pervades that hallowed space.  “Unlike the incoming president, Bush knew his way around the Oval Office by the time he was elected in 2000 — his father had been president.” 

 

Sources tell this reporter that President Bush carefully pointed out the areas of the office that had no angles. 

 

“When you’re bouncing off the walls,” the president told the president elect, “be careful where you’re aiming.  If you hit this curvy-type wall at the wrong angle, you can wind up bouncing off at the wrong angle, kind of like a billiard ball thing.”

 

Obama carefully examined the walls, nodding.  He thanked the president and took a couple of trial runs at the walls to get a sense of where he’d wind up.

 

The president then showed his replacement the executive wash room, the chief of staff’s office, and his secretaries’ room. 

 

“These secretaries are pretty liberationated, you know,” said the president.  “I got into a mess of trouble in the beginning—I mean, trying to learn the names of all these people.  Heck, it was hard enough learning the names of all those foreign-type people.  What’s with the lack of vowels in some of those names?  And so long.  Bush, Obama, Brown—those are easy names.

 

“Anyway, so I just started giving the girls nicknames—you know, blondie, boobs, big hair, stuff like that.  Jeeze, you’d think I’d declared war on…well, never mind about that.’

 

Obama asked if the secretaries would wear names tags.   He was disappointed when told that would be a bad thing.

 

And so the first meeting between these two titans ended.  As your intrepid reporter learns, you will be the first to know.

Technorati Tags: Bush, Obama, Oval Office, politics, satire
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Obama’s First News Conference: Questions We Wish They’d Asked

Is there a group more trapped in the world of hysterical obviousness than the presidential press corps?  Obama was called cautious in his responses by The Washington Post.  Perhaps that’s not the right word.  Bored brainless might be better.  Every question, regardless of whether it was on foreign or domestic policy, had a hidden assumption that this guy was already the president, even though he had rightly opened his remarks by saying he wasn’t the president, that there was only one government and one president.

 

And the media not only missed Obama’s brilliant self-parody answer to the “dog” question, they actually treated it as another example of his wonkish self control and caution. 

 

Oh what might have happened if the reporters had asked real questions?  Let’s find out?

 

Q:  Senator Obama, is it true you’re going to have cosmetic surgery on your ears to prevent the possibility of being carried away by a really blustery wind?

 

Obama:  Well, Michelle and I have talked about it, but, remember, I’ve spent many years in Chicago where blustery winds are considered the norm.  It’s true I once was walking along Lake Michigan and an unusually strong wind lifted me up and dumped me into the water, but my ears served as sails, and I safely got back to land.  So, the answer is no…although I will work hard to keep feathers out of my nose.

Q:  Senator, you’ve promised a chicken in every pot, a car in every driveway, and a home for every American.  Good campaign stuff.  We know you couldn’t tell the American people the truth while running for office.  Look what happened to McCain when he said we’d have to revisit Medicare spending.  But now that the campaign is over, what sacrifices are the American people going to have to make?

 

Obama:  (Turns to aid.  “They can’t unelect me, can the?”  Aide:  No, sir.)  Let me just say, Oy, vat a mess.  You vouldn’t believe the mishegas.  I just got an in-depth intelligence briefing, and, let me be honest, had I known what was really going on, I might have blown those three debates.  And the economy, don’t get me going on that.  Standing behind me are fifteen of the world’s best economic minds, and they can’t even agree about the shape of the table they’re supposed to be sitting at.  And the beggars at my door—I feel like the Pope on Let The Beggars In Day at the Vatican.  Car makers, insurance companies, banks, union leaders, former Lithuanian secret service agents, girl scouts, the homeless, the tired, the poor, rich whites, poor whites, Congressional Democrats…what am I, a free lunch counter? 

For God’s sake, we really are a nation of whiners.  Let’s be real, Americans are going to have to cinch in their belts—if they have them.  If not, tie that rope tighter around your waist.  It’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.

 

Q:  Mr. President-Elect,  on the Daily Show recently, you admitted that your white side and black side are often in conflict.  You spent an awfully long time in the voting booth.  What really did happen in there?  Which side won, and for whom did you finally vote?

 

Obama:  I won’t lie to you, it was a difficult moment.  I wasn’t sure who was going to win until the last moment.  The white side of me was winning, and my hand was hovering over the McCain button, but my black side rallied and called out, “Yo, there be a picture of Sarah Palin naked.”  My white side whipped around to see it, and my black side quickly voted for me.  Phew.

 

Q:  Follow up, sir.  How will that affect your decisions when you’re president?

 

Obama:  That’s an excellent question, and I’m grateful for the chance to speak directly to the American people about this issue, for it’s not a problem that I alone with which must grapple.  Italian Americans struggle with the choice between pasta and rice; Japanese Americans wrestle with the maddening challenge of cooked or raw fish; Jewish Americans…well, they already eat lots of bacon, so they’ve resolved that; Irish Americans try to drink bourbon to show they’ve assimilated, but they hate it.  Most quickly return to Irish whiskey, mostly, as I understand, Jameson.

 

And let’s face it, folks, most white Americans already eat hush puppies, grits, barbeque, collard greens—although why they eat collard greens is a mystery to most black people…we only ate it because that’s all we had—so African Americans aren’t all that different.

 

Does that answer your question?

 

Q:  Sir, your wife, Michelle Obama, is a formidable presence in her own right…

 

Obama:  You’re telling me?

 

Q:…how much authority and power will she wield in the White House as First Lady?

 

Obama:  Look, she understands that I will be the President of the United States.  I understand that she will continue to be She Who Must Be Obeyed.

Thank you, and avoir.

Technorati Tags: Obama, Michelle Obama, media, satire, news conference, president-elect
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It's Just An Election...Relax

Fear, anxiety, and, dare I say it, panic abound in the election-o-sphere these days, as captured in a recent Washington Post article. The good voters of America are anxiously awaiting the ten plagues of Egypt, Arab hordes swarming over our shores, economic meltdown a la Chernobyl, and really bad acne attacks...regardless of who they support and regardless of who wins.

I personally have experienced this effect as recently as last Saturday night.  Two of our best friends...bright, articulate conservatives...sat in our liberal living room, and one erupted in an over-the-top attack on Obama and the MSM's playing of the race card.  (He later apologized.)  And this from a man who thinks McCain has run perhaps the worst campaign since Nero tried to defend Rome with a fiddle and a broken bow. 

My friends, relax.  Whoever wins, Barack "My, What Big Ears You Have, Grannie" Obama or John "No, She's Really, Really Qualified" McCain, the world will neither come to an end nor be suddenly a brighter, happier place.  We may indeed be facing the end of the world as we know it:  Retirement will stretch further and further into the distance until it resembles the kind of dreams we had as kids--you know, of becoming superheroes or policemen or nurses or serial killers; new diseases will spring as prolific as wildflowers or weeds from our faucets thanks to global warming; America will deteriorate into a third-world power as Lithuania, Kurdzbachimysterystan, and a host of other degenerate nations attain global dominance; oh well, you get the picture.

But, and this is an important but so pay attention, none of this will come about because of the new president.

Relax, fellow prisoners, neither McCain nor Obama is evil incarnate out to undermine our precious values and bodily fluids.  Neither seeks to undermine our way of life...beyond what we've already done to ourselves.  Both will struggle mightily and with expert help to fix our economy (lots o' luck), our environment (just in time for West Virginia to become part of the new coastal America), our health care system (ow, that hurts), and everything else.  And both will achieve minimal success because the Founding Fathers ensured through the arcane complexity of the Constitution that precious little can be accomplished in Washington.

We have so much for which to be thankful.  So much about which to be proud.  So much with which to completely screw ourselves royally. 

Yes, the future looks bleak, even dire.  So, my friends, worry, fret, and fear.  But at least take heart that the election ain't one of them.  Stop demonizing your opponents and start hugging them.  It may be the only solace we get for a long time.  After dinner Saturday night, we hugged our conservative friends...and it felt great.  One of them lifted my wallet, but what can you expect from them?

Curmudgeon-At-Large

In Jameson Veritas 

Technorati Tags: Obama, McCain, election, Constitution, Founding Fathers
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Sarah Palin: The New Paris Hilton

This is a serious article.  Serious issues require a sober, somber, cerebral approach. 

 

On second thought, cancel that sober stuff.  Nothing’s so serious that one should approach it sober.  Remember:  In Jameson Veritas. 

  

And while I’m at it, when I was a regular writer on BlogCritics, the above was my closing signature.  So imagine my surprise when, after I suffered a Brain Cloud and stopped writing, Jameson started advertising on BlogCritics.  Did they send me a case of Jameson?  A bottle?  Even, better, a case of Middleton?  No.   Did I stop drinking Jameson?  No.  One-way loyalty sucks.

But I digress.  Seriously, I feel sorry for Sarah Palin.  She’s everything you’d expect from her environment—ambitious, God-fearing, fundamentalist, ex-beauty queen, small-town mayor, and then governor of an enormous but barely populated state. 

Palin is also a fascinating character as examined by Libby Copeland in a Washington Post article today.

But Copeland didn’t address one issue about the reality of the explosion of love, adoration, and fascination with the Moose-gutter from Alaska.  It has nothing to do with her political expertise because it’s clear she’s so far in over her head, she’s wearing 15-inch heels to keep her nose above water.

Imagine.  Here’s this relatively new governor with a bubba husband and four, five, or six children—who really counts in small towns?  Suddenly, there’s a phone call, probably not at 4 a.m., from John McCain—the John McCain.

 

“Hey gov, you wanna be my running mate?” he asks.

 

“Huh?” she responds.  “Who is this, really?”

 

“No, this is really John McCain.  I need a running mate.  I think you’re cute as a bunny.”

 

“Oh Johnny, you devil.”

 

“There’s only one small consideration,” he says.  “You’ve got ten minutes to decide.”

What can she do?  Even if she has sophisticated advisors with experience in national and international politics, which is highly unlikely in, sorry, Alaska, she doesn’t have time to ask them.

“Hey, my guy,” she calls out to Bubba.

 

“What?”

 

“John McCain is on the phone.  He wants me to be his vice president.  What do you think?”

 

Bubba looks at her, wondering how many beers she’s had.

 

“Come again?”

 

“No, it’s serious, but I gotta decide now.”

 

“Babe, does that mean we get to live in the White House?” he asks, thinking about how cool that would be.

 

“I don’t know,” she answers.  “Come to think of it, I don’t even know what a vice president does.  What do you think?”

 

“Hell, go for it.”

 

Seriously, it’s not her fault she was catapulted unprepared onto the national stage—it’s McCain’s.

 

Wonder of wonder, comes the Republican convention, and she blows ‘em all away.

What happened?  She didn’t become a national political figure overnight, she became a celebrity.  Celebrities don’t have to do or say anything.  They just have to be.  Just like…ta da…Paris Hilton.  To be fair, I know virtually nothing about Ms. Hilton.  Is she a singer?  An entertainer?  An actress?  Doesn’t seem to matter.  She’s larger than life.  Just as Sarah Palin has become larger than life.

This revelation explains why the hard-core, gum chewing (former cigarette smoking), cynical, exhausted political media has been twisted into New York pretzels trying to figure out how to approach this meteoric figure.

It also explains why the McCain handlers have been just as befuddled trying to find appropriate venues other than rallies for their VP candidate.  They know that the national political media are a wee more aggressive than those in Alaska.  And they know that a celebrity isn’t usually expected to be able to say anything sentient about issues such as the economy, foreign policy, health care, etc., etc., etc.

The big debate is tomorrow night.  I don’t know how it’s going to play out, but I can’t help but feel that the poor governor turned celebrity is going to get her brains tangled in so many knots, she’s going to have to ask Senator McCain to get in touch with Alexander the Great to cut through them. 

 

Sarah Palin is a surprisingly appealing and successful celebrity.  Good for her.  But it’s cruel and unusual punishment to ask her to take on the role of national politician.  Shame on you, John McCain.  What you’ve done to Sarah Palin is inexcusable.  Unless, of course, you win the election.  Then…uh oh.  

 

 

Technorati Tags: Sarah Palin, John McCain, vice president, Paris Hilton, celebrities
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Palin De-Witched--Where's The Media Outcry???

On September 19th, Keith Olbermann on MSNBC's Countdown, showed a video of Sarah Palin with her former pastor that should send shivers down the spines of anyone with the I.Q. above a newt.  This was an old-time religion laying on of hands by a literal, and I mean literal, witch hunting man of God from Africa.  This is a must watch...but where the hell is the media on this? 

My bride has called the Washington Post twice to alert them to this, and they still haven't written about it. 

Compare the media silence to what Obama went through with his pastor!

Watch first; then I'll rant some more.

If McCain is elected, this woman will be closer to being president than any VP since Truman in FDR's 4th term.

The media silence is inexplicable and indefensible.  This ain't some supermarket tabloid fabricated story--this is video of a real event. 

What the hell is going on???

Del.icio.us Tags: Palin, Obama, witches, witchcraft, media, McCain
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Election Erections

Have to confess, the first Jug Ears/Face Flop debate was boooring.  Can't anyone say anything new or interesting anymore?  Has our political culture devolved to the point where points are scored based on body language, lack of mistakes, and posturing?  We're you excited?  Did your distended member twitter with anticipation, becoming aroused and proud?  If so...shame, shame, shame on you.

Gadfrey daniels, ladies & gentlemen, it's enough to drive you to the sex sites on web, none of which I dare to frequent for fear of completely screwing up this six-year-old computer, held together with a prayer and a song. 

Of course Jug Ears won the debate.  Unless you're a Repubican, which means you think ol' slidy face won it.  But how could anyone in their right minds support a guy whose face could fall off at any minute, scaring the bejusus out of weak-willed men, lily-holding women, and any children stupid enough to be pulled from their computers to experience democracy in action. 

Can you imagine what would happen if, the the middle of a rant, Senator McScreed's right cheek fell onto his podium?  Women weeping, children retching, and men going "cool." 

What would happen? Worst case:  Sarah Palin as president.  Now there's something I'd like to see...except I'm not old enough.  I figure if someone's going to destroy the entire foundation upon which my peace, security, and retirement are based, I need to be at least 80 years old so I'm willing to live the last few years of life not simply in abject poverty but surrounded by marauding invaders from the Lithuanian secret service (of which Palin is a paid agent in case you missed that on CNN.)

Enough.  Anyone who thinks she's qualified to be Governor of Alaska is the product of too much inbreeding.

On the other hand, the problem with Jug Ears is that, while I applaud his vision, his belief in a 21st century model of America is naive.  I fear his total lack of experience with the political machine in D.C. will leave him in much the same state as the CEO of a multi-billion dollar chemical company for whom I once worked.  This total prick, who had the personal charm of a cobra, really did want to improve the environmental performance of the company.  But no matter how much he ranted and raved (and such ravings you wouldn't believe), nothing happened.  In a snit of magnificent magnitude, he once cried out in a meeting, "find me that fucking middle manager who's getting in the way of any progress so I can take him out back and shoot him."

I swear I'm not making that up.  CEO.  Multi-billion dollar company.  Castrated by a host of middle managers not venal or evil (that would be too easy,) but terrified of change they couldn't control.

That's what Jug Ears if facing.

So we muddle on.  Muddle, muddle, muddle. 

Worse, the bride & I watch hours of political cable ineptitude in the vain pursuit of...well, not wisdom, but perhaps elucidation. 

What fools these mortals be.

Curmudgeon-At-Large

Technorati Tags: McCain, Obama, Palin, politics, democracy, bureaucracy, debates, election
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Experience, Judgment, and the Presidency

          I make them as quickly as I can, quicker than the other fellow, if I can. Often my haste is a mistake, but I live with the consequences without complaint.

Words spoken by someone whose background is that of a fighter pilot—a special and essential quality where your life depends on an unconscious ability to react in the blink of an eye.

Words spoken by John McCain, in his 2002 book, Worth the Fighting For: The Education of an American Maverick, and the Heroes Who Inspired Him.

Words spoken by someone who, by temperament, training, and experience is uniquely unqualified to be president of the United States.

Much has been written and debated about the qualifications of Sarah Palin to be vice president, let alone step into the Oval Office should John McCain become president and then have to leave the stage. It’s an unwinnable argument; people’s assessment of her is filtered through their own biases, beliefs, and values. But the decision to select Palin as his VP demonstrates without question a quality in McCain that should give everyone pause. It’s best stated in his own words—the above quote.

It’s reflected in the process undertaken to choose Palin. “Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin was not subjected to a lengthy in-person background interview with the head of Sen. John McCain’s vice presidential vetting team until last Wednesday in Arizona, the day before McCain asked her to be his running mate, and she did not disclose the fact that her 17-year-old daughter was pregnant until that meeting, two knowledgeable McCain officials acknowledged Tuesday,” writes Dan Balz in a front-page article in a recent Washington Post.

Balz quotes McCain officials who argue that the decision wasn’t rushed, that a thorough investigation of Palin had taken place. “Aides had said earlier that Palin was invited to meet McCain in Arizona only after she appeared to be a likely choice, barring something unforeseen in her interview with the candidate. But what they had not said was that [former White House counsel Arthur] Culvahouse had not yet conducted his interview until that time as well.”

Friday, McCain announced her as his “soul mate.” It was a rushed judgment based on his assessment of his candidacy after witnessing the Democratic convention.

The Republican strategy to focus on experience, now foundering on the rocks of Palin’s very thin public resume, has always been a smoke screen. Lincoln, Truman, Carter, Reagan, Clinton, and Bush II, all had negligible experience. One could argue that the job of president is so incomprehensibly complex that literally no one except someone running for a second term has the vaguest idea what they’re getting into or has had the experience to prepare them for the job.

The CEO of a Fortune 500 company once told me that the hardest transition he’d ever faced in his career was moving from President and COO to President and CEO. One of the most brilliant, arrogant, and ruthless men I’d ever met, he said that he was completely unprepared for the feeling of suddenly having no one on whom to lean. There was no one above him to whom he could turn for guidance.

Such is the fate of anyone who takes the oath of office to become president of the United States.

The real issue is judgment—how well does one make decisions under pressure so intense that after eight years in office, virtually every president (save Reagan who slept through most of his term) looks 20 years older and, should they be fortunate enough to have hair, leaves with a full head of gray or white hair. 

 

Palin is not the only reason to question McCain’s ability to make decisions under pressure.  John McCain is proud of his maverick status, and it’s one of the reasons he’s been a great senator.  That body needs mavericks, people who buck the system and stir the pot, who are unafraid to take unpopular stances, issue bold and provocative statements, the consequences be damned.  But these are not qualities that one wants in a president, whose every word, gesture, and glance are scrutinized not only by the media, but the people around him and people around the world.

 

Compare McCain proudly proclaiming his ability to make snap decisions—often wrong—with the Lincoln

unveiled in Doris Kearns Goodwin’s brilliant book, Team of Rivals:  The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln.  Of his five top cabinet choices, four had actively sought the presidency, but, after careful thought, he recognized that each had the qualities essential to managing the country in its most serious crisis.  Lincoln’s political genius was his judgment—his ability to carefully sift through the ever-present landslides of advice, disasters, internal and external problems and not only come up with the right answer most of the time but, most important, the right timing.  The announcement of the Emancipation Proclamation is one of the best examples of Lincoln’s extraordinary sense of courage, judgment, and timing.

We’ve already endured eight years of poor judgment in a president, of someone bored with details, able to make decisions in a single bound, and, apparently, able shrug his shoulders when those leaps land him trouble. 

America can’t afford a maverick president when what is needed is someone with the ability to weigh nuances, to embrace complexity without being overwhelmed by it, to base decisions—make judgments—on a careful understanding of what a densely intertwined web is this increasing international scene.

Of course there are those 3 a.m. calls.  And we need a president who can make tough decisions quickly.  But that’s a rare event compared to the countless decisions that must be made every day, decisions that demonstrate the right kind of judgment—a quality that John McCain, in his own words, lacks.

 

Technorati Tags: McCain, Obama, Palin, judgment, experience, 2008_Presidential_Election, maverick
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Thoughts On Some Important Issues

Jews and Muslims aren't allowed to eat pork.  God's pretty adamant about that.  Pork bad.  God good.  Easy enough to understand.  Except, Jews, Muslims, and Christians all worship the same God, and Christians can eat pork.  So, did they get some kind of dispensation from God that Jews & Muslims aren't privy to?  It can't be Jesus, since, one, he was Jewish, and two, Muslims revere him as a pretty cool guy.  Maybe all Christians are going to hell, at least the ones who eat pork. 

Two Jews get off a bus.  One of the funniest opening lines I've ever heard--you probably have to hear it.  But I never heard the rest of the joke.  It finally dawned on me why it's so funny.  Jews don't ride buses.  Think of it, Two nuns get off a bus; two Lithuanians get off a bus; two Presbyterians get off a bus.  None of them are funny.  Why?  They're all known to ride buses. 

You always bite the one you love.

Why is Tuscaloosa funny but Schenectady isn't?

How many fat guys does it take to screw in a light bulb?  Give up?  I have no idea...I just lost over 20 pounds.

My bride woke herself up laughing wildly last week at a joke she'd made in her sleep.  I slipped on Poly-ethyl and into Ethyl Polly.  I laughed my ass off when she told me, but so far, we're the only one's who think it's funny.  How good are your sleep jokes, wiseass?

So, I went to the doctor the other day, and he told me I was going to have to stop masturbating. "Why, I asked, my eyesight's still pretty good?"  "Because I have to examine you."  Badabing. (With thanks to my brother-in-law.)

Know why there aren't any Presbyterian jokes?  Because Presbyterian has five syllables--way too long to sustain humor.  Of course, Lithuanian is also five syllables and it's funny as hell--at least to me.

There you have it.  Not much, but first post in ages.  The old brain actually may be coming back.

How Do You Evaluate Yourself

One of my most powerful memories of being a teenager was writing in my journal to myself when I was an "old man."  At the time, 58 seemed awfully old, but I think I was focused more on 70s, but the issue arises regardless of age & is totally dependent on circumstances.  What I wrote was that I hoped at the end of my life, I could look back with pride on what I'd accomplished--not so much for myself, but left as a legacy.

Yuck.  Legacy.  That word has probably killed more people than Jesus (as a word.)

How do we evaluate ourselves?  What we've done?  What mark did we leave?  For agnostics, it's particularly difficult, but there's no heaven where the essence of who we are extends for eternity.  So, as an agnostic, I realize that, except for a handful of people, virtually every human being's existance is forgotten with a generation or two or three.  And even those famous souls whose fame seems to extend to eternity, how much do we really know about Shakespeare, Alexander the Great, Plato, or Bach?

Hell, I just learned that Cleopatra was a Greek!

From one perspective, what we do in the few years granted us is irrelevant.  Few of us will turn the tide of history, become Roosevelts or Gandhis or Maos or even Hitlers.

And now that I'm a point where we're trying to sell the house and move somewhere cheaper and less congested so I can retire, I can't help but look back but also forward.  What have I done that's made a difference?  What will I do in the years left to me to make a difference?  My wife and I planned for years for me to be able to retire early...but now I'm obligated to this seventeen year old kid to account for my career.  And the stresss of where to live, selling the house, arranging the finances, and a very bizarre sleep disorder that's messed up my brain for the last six months has made each day so much less than it should be. 

I don't know what to say to him.  I think, I hope mostly because of this brain fog, I can experience life day-to-day the way one must in order to leave something meaningful behind.  I do look back with some pride at what I accomplished, and regrets at what I wish I'd accomplished, but you can always say you should have done more.  And many of those so-called "regrets" can and will be addressed in my so-called retirement.  (Except for being a folk star...I think I'm a little old for that.) 

But when your brain is screwed up, it's very hard to find the path that John Spivey, who wrote The Great Western Divide, outlines.  I know it's there...sitting, calling to me...asking me to accept and integrate rather than to fight.  But I can't find it.  I want the inner peace that John too searches for, but, as I lay dying, I want to be able to say, as my father did, "I fought the good fight."

As I lay dying, I know that within a very few years, no one will remember me, but that's not my purpose here.  Will I be able to say I left this world a better place than when I found it? 

What other criteria can one use to evaluate one's self?

Let Iraq Burn

Some time ago, long ago that it's not even listed, I wrote an article condemning the Busher for the Iraq but arguing that it would play into the hands of the terrorists if we left. When Bush attacked Iraq for heaven knows what reason, there were tapes of Osama bin Laden dancing the Hora with all this minions. Copies of those tapes are available for a modest fee. You can get them by contacting this writer.

It was like Old Osama had two fingers jammed up the Busher's nose and was dragging him wherever he wanted. He needed new bases to train white, Catholic, English girls who've turned to Islam to become suicide bombers...the Busher gave him most of Yugoslavia & Iraq. What a great president.

But, as they say, it takes a tough man to make a tender chickpea, so I too have finally, painfully, agonizingly come to the conclusion that there's nothing we can do in Iraq but help kill innocent Iraqis and mangle more U.S. troops.

The fact is that the Arabs are loonies. Why they are loonies is a fascinating sociological question I will not try to address in any detail. It's similar, however (oy, is this going to get me in trouble), to self-defeating behaviors we see in some African Americans and Native Americans. Expectations breeds behavior supporting those expectations. Treat Palestinians like 5th class citizens for 60 years or so & guess what, they'll act like fucking idiots, killing each other because it seems less dangerous that trying to kill Jews. (Note, that didn't start with the Israeli occupation. It started with Egypt taking Gaza & the butcher of Jordan taking the so-called West Bank & keeping Palestinians living like rats with no cheese for 30 years.

But what about Iraqi loonies? You can't create a country by jamming three warring tribes together, have them live under one of the worst dictators in history, and expect them to act normally. I simply cannot fathom Sunnis and Shias blowing up each other's children.

This war is no longer a war of liberation...whatever it started out to be. It's a civil (how quaint, "civil")... it's a totally uncivil war aided by the scum in Iran & Syria. It's not that we can't win, we can't even define win. You couldn't describe a political condition in what is now Iraq that stood a chance of working. And, hey, for the first time, it's not all our fault. Let 'em blame the Israelis & Americans for their mess. Sorry, Ahmed, you shit, you clean it up.

And we haven't even addressed the coming war in Northern Iraq between the Kurds (terrible name...they should rename their tribes...get a lot more respect...like "The Crips" or something) and just about everyone else.

So it is with sorrow, despair, anger, confusion, and fill in the blanks, that I've come to the conclusion that we should simply say: "Yo, Arab-type people. As long as you're going to kill each other, we're outa here. Like, what are you--dopes? We're not sending American soldiers into your country to break up battles between warring tribes. We gave you the chance for democracy--sort of--and you blew it. We tried to help you rebuild your nation--and you blew it up. O.k., we had no plans for winning the peace--but it's your country. What are you, without an idea in your collective heads?

"You can't teach a man to fish if he keeps hitting you over the head with the fucking fishing poll. So...we're out of here. If you come to your senses, we'd be glad to come back and help you rebuild your country...but frankly, we're not packing just yet to return."

Technorati Tags: Iraq, Foreign policy, Bush, Arabs, Iran, civil war
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