The Bush Speech

I caught a portion of it while flipping channels. I usually don't watch Bush on TV, because if I'm going to be lied to, I'd rather read the lies in print than watch them on C-Span. It's a time saver. Anyway, at one point Bush took time out to talk to me, saying that, now that we're in Iraq, the only options are victory and defeat, implying that I should just forget about how we got into the war and just go with him on his course without further complaint.

(I thought it was a laugh when Bush said he'd "heard" his opponents on the war. Sure he did. His wiretappers are pros.)

Okay, now I'm speaking to the President who B.S.'d us into a war:

The victory versus defeat choice is a false one. Very few wars result in total victory or total defeat. Most of the time they settle down to a political arrangement that allows hostilities to cease and both sides, who may still think of each other as absolute evil, to find more productive uses for their time. The task in Iraq is to identify the best realistic outcome we can envision, and determine what policies are most likely to move us toward that outcome. We have to decide whether the presence of our troops helps or hurts Iraq's stability. (I'd say it does much more harm than good to have them there now. The longer they stay, the less the Iraqi people will believe that the governments they've been voting for will fulfill their hopes for national dignity and sovereignty. If the troops are no longer useful in the job of bringing stability to Iraq, calling for their withdrawl is not defeatism; it's intelligence.

As for his wish for us to stop talking about how he got us into the war, Bush is conveniently forgetting something. His pre-war statements, to the American people and to the world, have everything to do with why we're finding it so hard to get international help into Iraq and why so many of our allies around the world hold us in so much contempt. Bush's lack of credibility on Iraq, and on terrorism in general, makes it harder for the U.S. in all phases of foreign policy. Fewer nations trust our judgement, fewer world leaders want to be seen with us, and fewer leaders take us at our word. And why should they? I don't know if Bush has figured this out yet, but crediblity is not something that comes with being an American; credibility comes from a diciplined, daily commitment to making sense.

I'm numbed to it now, but it used to amaze me how conservatives could be so upset with Bill Clinton's lies about oval office fellatio, while they're so casual about the torrent of untruths that spill out of Bush's mouth whenever he approaches a microphone. Which lies have been, in the end, more damaging to American policy and objectives around the world?

If we're ever going to recover the trust of the world, we have to begin by demanding that the truth about our decision to invade Iraq come out. Such an accounting will be very painful. It's never fun to admit you've been conned. (Don't worry. I won't say "I told you so" too loud.) Bush's lies couldn't have advanced so far if they hadn't played on the hopes and ideals of a great many people. But the sooner we start telling ourselves the truth, the sooner the rest of the world will regain their comfort with us as a great power. For Bush to lie to us is a crime and an insult; for us to lie to ourselves is an invitation to disaster.

And havent' we sent out enough of those?

John Spencer Died

He's probably best known for playing Leo on The West Wing but I've been following him since he shared screen time with Michael Madsen in the opening sequence of War Games. 58 is far too young to go.

Bush and McCain Come Together On Torture

And thus do these two GOP Giants join hands and stride boldly forward into the mid-19th century. Zippedy-dooh-dah! An agreement sure to endure until Bush's minions at the justice department find a way around it, or until the Dick Cheney discovers a new super-secret-double-dog method of shipping prisoners to Uzbeckistan for their boilings and beatings.

I Don't Blame You a Bit, Tui

Norv Turner's switch back to Kerry Collins has Tuiasosopo pissed off. I don't blame him. Here are Tui's stats for his first start:

14-26-124 1 TD, 2 INTs, 2 Fumbles Lost

Looks pretty bad, but check out Kerry Collins's first full start as a Raider (Week 4, 2004, versus the Texans):

21-38-244 0 TD, 3 INTs, 1 Fumble Lost

Or, for other comparisons, check out Drew Brees's first game:

15-27-221 1 TD, 0 INTs, 2 Fumbles Lost

Or Peyton Manning:

21-37-302 1 TD, 3 INTs

Or Donovan McNabb:

8-20-68 0 TD, 1 INT

Or Matt Hasselbeck:

20-34-178 0 TD, 2 INT

Even my man Rich Gannon, in his first Raider start:

16-31-227 0 TDs, 1 INT

My point? That with rare exceptions elite quarterbacks have a period where they look bad before they start looking good. Sometimes they find (or rediscover) their rhythm in a week or two. Some take half a season or longer. Many of them, like Hasselbeck, have to endure the doubts of those who think the plodding, vanilla veteran behind them in the depth chart is in fact superior. Still, if they have a coach sees potential in them and is enough of a leader to keep his team together through the growing pains, they can end up where the Seattle Seahawks have ended up. If, however, his coach is a jackass, a quarterback like Tui has to wait for an opportunity to grow, usually on another team.

Maybe I'm jumping to conclusions about Tui though. Some quarterbacks start mediocre and stay there. I've seen it. This year, boy have I seen it. Still, I guess Norv Turner figures it this way--why go with someone who might be lousy when we can go with someone we know is lousy.

Richard Pryor's Dead

I know he'd been suffering for a long time, but it still sucks.

Something I Like

As those who read this blog regularly know very well, I hate a lot. I try to hate with style and with wit, but I really do despise a lot of people and things. So I thought I'd break the pattern by writing about something I actually like.

I just watched my DVD of Mystic River, and it knocked me out all over again. Very few filmmakers handle old wounds as well as Clint Eastwood does, and the performances he got from Sean Penn, Tim Robbins, and Kevin Bacon transported me to wonderful, terrible places. Brian Hegeland's script built a Boston neighborhood that felt lived-in, and successfully imported the feeling of density that the Lehane novel had. Very few adaptations can pull that off. Most movies dodge complexity; Mystic River seeks it out, finds it, and invites you to linger over it.

Thanks, Clint.

Now This Is Just Pretty Fucked Up

First she helps Bush into the White House, and in 2001 she commissioned a study of supernatural wateras a citrus tree protectant.

Next up: Harris commissions the Skywalker ranch to offer Jedi training to U.S. troops in Iraq.

We now return you to the reality-based community.

Merry Daily Show

All this Bill O'Reilly shit about Christmas would be a lot harder to take if Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert weren't around to mercilessly mock him. But in a way I have to give it up to our most famous falafel consumer. He's a man with his finger firmly on the railway track on which America travels. He saw that with all the problems in America--the War, the deficit, the willfully ignorant sociopath who somehow gets to run stuff--that what America really needs to pull itself together is a bullshit, fake-ass problem which can be blamed on invisible enemies that only Bill O'Reilly can see. And, like any helpful bus station lunatic, O'Reilly is delighted to point wildly at those enemies and call them by their proper names.

I'm not saying, by the way, that Bill O'Reilly is a common bus station lunatic. Can a bus station lunatic tie a full windsor knot? He may try, but the demon monkeys will always thwart him.

So, if you're out there, Bill, here's a message from me to you, simulcast directly into your skull via secret satellites of the great secular conspiracy (which meets every Saturday in the Factoria Mall Applebees at 7pm): Happy fucking Holidays, you diseased weeping pustule.

UPDATE: You can check out Jon Stewart's beatdown of O'Reilly here

Miss America Conservatives

Mark Schmitt gets credit for the term, which I think is a wonderful way to describe many "maverick" conservatives--including John McCain:

Each of the so-called moderate Republicans seems to have a "platform" issue on which they break with the party, much like a Miss America contestant who chooses an issue that makes her seem thoughtful and altruistic, but as soon as the platform segment is over, she resumes her place in a degrading spectacle.

You can read more about how he developed this idea here. It seems like one that's as applicable to McCain on torture as it is to Gordon Smith on Medicaid, or Dominici on Mental Health Coverage. While it's certainly a good thing that McCain wants to pile on the administration concerning its torture policies now, why didn't he push his anti-torture legislation in the summer of 2004, when it our policies of extraordinary rendition and the torture of prisoners at Abu Ghraib were already major scandals costing us credibility around the world? Reason, it wouldn't messed up McCain's future political prospects in the Bush's Republican party. Instead of sticking up not just for his principles but for his own experience of torture at the hands of the V.C., McCain aggressively campaigned for Bush's re-election. Only now does McCain want us to know that, even though he's a Republican, he's not in favor of torture.

What does he want? A cookie? Republicans aren't supposed to favor torture. If McCain had said that last sentence to Bush a year ago, when it might have mattered, I'd have been impressed. Now, it just reads like another Republican politician trying to look moderate and thoughtful in comparison with the administration. Oh, to be more thoughtful and moderate than G.W. Bush and Dick Cheney. Who can you brag to about that?

A Wish Come True

AP reports that Norv Turner is leaning toward starting Tui over Collins this week. And Beethoven's 9th, 4th movement, begins.

Colts 35; Titans 3

I didn't get to see this game, and have very little to say about it actually. I just wanted to write about a game where a team I like actually won, where I look at the starting quarterback and can understand why he's starting, where, well you get the idea. Colts win again!

Congress Springs Into Action

To find out if the BCS College Bowl system is flawed. Next up, a hearing on whether the Knave of Hearts, who stole the tarts, acted alone.

Gay Marriage Ruled Constitutional In South Africa

If you'd told me twenty years ago that one day soon South Africa would be ahead of the U.S. in any aspect of human rights, I'd have said you were crazy.

We torture; they permit gay marriage. Funny how the world turns out, eh?

And Someone Wins Bad Sex In Unclear Headline Prize

Coren Wins Bad Sex in Fiction Prize

For a second there I pictured poor Coren winning a night in a hotel room with my lunchlady from West Elementary School in Tooele. (And she was wearing leather and carrying both a whip and a garden hose.) Then I remembered it was that time of the year again. This year's "winner" of the Bad Sex in Fiction Prize is Giles Coren, the author of Winkler:

And he came hard in her mouth and his dick jumped around and rattled on her teeth and he blacked out and she took his dick out of her mouth and lifted herself from his face and whipped the pillow away and he gasped and glugged at the air, and he came again so hard that his dick wrenched out of her hand and a shot of it hit him straight in the eye and stung like nothing he'd ever had in there, and he yelled with the pain, but the yell could have been anything, and as she grabbed at his dick, which was leaping around like a shower dropped in an empty bath, she scratched his back deeply with the nails of both hands and he shot three more times, in thick stripes on her chest. Like Zorro.

That's one athletic dick, but I can't quite picture how it leaps around "like a shower dropped in an empty bath". (Showers leap? Shower heads stay still, unless they're broken; and the water doesn't leap, it falls. He did say the shower "dropped" in the empty bath, but dropping is a different motion from leaping, and since when were showers characterized by their tendency to drop? Sorry, I'm spending way too much time in this simile.) Still, the protagonist did manage to get enough control over his member to make the sign of the Z on her chest.

Coren's prose reads like the porn spam I sometimes get. I'm amazed that this passage managed to get past an agent, a battery of editors, and a publisher. (Unless, of course, the effect Coren was going for required him to write like a porn e-mail spammer.) Having read this, I'd say that Coren deserves to win a night with my lunchlady in an hourly-rate hotel room. We'll see if he, too, can make the sign of the Z.

Read all the other finalists here. Some pretty famous names are here, an indication of just how easy it is to foul up a sex scene. I guess Milan Kundera was on to something when he said that there is a certain--hard to take--comedy in sexuality. With all that rattling and wrenching, it's hard to take indeed.

It's The End of Toronto As We Know It

No, this is not a post about the no-confidence vote that dissolved the Canadian parliament, but rather a link to Grady Hendrix's very funny take on Kirk Cameron's el-supremo-cheapo Left Behind movies. Apparently, if you spend $1.65 (Canadian), Toronto can stand in for "New York, Chicago, and Israel. Also, Washington, D.C. And Egypt. London, too."

I almost want to watch the movies now, just to see if they made the same mistakes the Glitter crew made when they included shots of the CN Tower in their "New York" backgrounds. I'll bet when they pan across the Western Wall or some Cairo neighborhood, you can see the Sky Dome, or pay phones with little maple leafs on them.

On a dark, sticky, stygian level, it pleases me to know that while Jerry Bruckheimer makes high priced crap like National Treasure (a movie that must be seen to be disbelieved), Kirk Cameron is up in Canada making even crappier movies for less money. Economic efficiency, that's what NAFTA was all about.

Vaguely Discontented

I don't often blog about my mood, not directly anyway. I think it's pretty clear from the tone of the entries that it varies from psychotic anger to bemused detachment. Still, at the moment I just feel disturbed--querulous, carping, crabby, and generally unkind--but I'm not quite sure what's getting on my nerves. Things in general are going reasonably well--not perfectly, but not unusually imperfectly. The new novella is reading better than I thought it would, the car's okay, and my digestive system is in order. I have to get my dryer fixed, which will cost some money, but that's far less annoying than the squeaking noise that my dryer is making right now. The Raiders are playing poorly, but that's not news either. Indeed, I've already started rooting for the Colts and Bucs, just so I can keep my head in the season.

I'll deal with it. I've got a book to revise and a play to write. I probably haven't been working hard enough. Yeah, that's probably it. When I don't push myself at work I start driving myself crazy. It's shoulder to the wheel time again.

Yet Another Part of the Bush Act I'm Tired Of

Headline from AP: Bush Tones Down Attack on Iraq War Critics

We should be used to this pattern by now:

1. Bush attacks somebody's patriotism.

2. Bush's surrogates and lackeys spend a week pressing the attack, writing op-eds, making inflammatory speeches in Congress, sniping on the Sunday Chat Shows, airing ads morphing Democrats into Osama Bin Laden, and the like.

3. Bush says he never attacks anyone's patriotism and welcomes open debate.

It has a certain lather-rinse-repeat quality to it, doesn't it?

Raiders 16; Indigenous Persons 13

The Raider defense comes through to seal the game, through Jerry Porter contributes a lot with 140+ yards receiving and a touchdown.

Errand Completed

I handed in my application for the Jack Straw Writer-In-Residence program. It took an age to compile everything, but it'll be worth it if I can get some of my material on the radio. They don't pay, so I think I have a pretty good shot.

Gee, I Always Thought of Myself As A Fairly Friendly Atheist

I got this from Majikthise, who got it from someone else:

Hardhat

You are an atheist, a rationalist, a believer in the triumph of science and of reason over libido. You can’t stand mumbo jumbo, ritual, spiritual nonsense of any kind, and you refuse to allow for these longings in others.


Astrologers, Scientologists and new–age crystal ball creeps are no different in your view from priests, rabbis and imams. They’re all just weak–minded pilgrims on the road to easy answers. Nature as revealed by science is awesome enough for you, but it’s a nature that needs curbing and taming by us on our evolutionary journey to perfection.


Your heros are Einstein, Darwin, Marx and — these days — Gould, Blakemore, Watson, Crick and Rosalind Franklin. Could you be hiding a little behind those absolutist views, worried that, if you let in a few doubts and contradictory ideas, the whole edifice might crumble? Loosen up a bit and try to enjoy the amazing variety of human belief systems. Don’t worry — it’s unlikely you’ll end up chanting your days away in some distant mountain cult.

What kind of humanist are you? Click here to find out.

My desire for a tidy garden--actually, I don't even own a houseplant because they're too much effort--means I think we're on an evolutionary journey to perfection? I don't think that. Evolution has nothing to do with perfection. It has everything to do with effective breeding and food gathering. Take the Bush family. They suck, both as individuals and as a community, but they breed prodigiously and have plenty of resources. Morally, they seem to be worsening with successive generations, but unless that becomes a factor in sexual selection, it won't stop them.

As for the other charge, I don't think that my impatience with those people in the 60s who imagined they could lift the Pentagon with their minds makes me guilty of absolutism. When it comes to the woo-woo stuff I have an open mind, just not one so open that my brains fall out.

Nice quiz.

I Only Said that Because I Wanted Them To Hire Me

That's what Alito told Diane Feinstein when she questioned him about his comments on Roe v. Wade in 1985. Fair enough, I guess, but isn't Alito now seeking another job, one with lifetime tenure and tons of perks? As Kevin Drum points out, the position he takes on Roe in the letter is not "Roe vs. Wade bothers me because I abhor abortion" but that "the constitution does not protect the right to an abortion." That's a statement of his view not just of abortion, but of the legitimacy of law that allows it. Should Senators not ask whether Alito's positions on the law change when the job he's seeking changes? What happens when he gets on the Supreme Court and no longer has to worry about unemployment?

A New Goof

Because the movie got me when I was a youngster, I take special pleasure in beating up Damien Omen II. But whoever runs Cold Fusion found a plot hole that, damn it all, didn't occur to me:

Unfortunately, the forces of EE-vil don't want Brugenhagen's next set of sacred daggers to make into Thorn's hands (is there a Blessed Vending Machine dispensing these things by the gross somewhere in the Holy Land?), and causes a cave-in, burying the two men for a good many years.

Yeah! The dinks who made the film forgot that the seven daggers--supposedly the only weapons in the world that can kill Damien--were with Robert Thorn in England. How did that bearded dude in Israel manage to get them back so fast, particularly when, in the opening scene, he's only just found out what happened to Gregory Peck? How the hell did I miss that?

Denver 31; Oakland 17

Three interceptions, with one returned for a touchdown. Can we please bench Kerry Collins now?

Good One

I'm not usually an avid reader of poetry reviews, but a good joke is a good joke:

The most obvious problem with "Good Poems for Hard Times" is that it proposes that "the meaning of poetry is to give courage." That is not the meaning of poetry; that is the meaning of Scotch.

Nice. Read the rest of the review if you want to learn how Garrison Keillor incited literary controversy.

Bush Accuses Iraq War Critics of Undercutting America's Troops

They say you're an alcoholic when you repeat yourself. They say you're an alcoholic when you repeat yourself. They say you're an alcoholic when you...oh damn it, damn it, goddamn it!

No T.O.

Because someone who wanted to know about Al Davis acuqiring Terrell Owens landed here, I'll throw in my opinion on the matter: not a chance.

The Raiders have taken on controversial characters in the past, and certainly some have imagined a Moss-Owens tandem and drooled. Still, the Raiders won't do it for these reasons:

1) They still have a defense to rebuild. The Raiders will need to go hunting for linebackers next offseason. The defensive line has come together and developed an identity, and the secondary has a lot of upside to it. But we need some playmakers (other than Morrison and Clark) at LB, or the Raiders will be stuck in the big nickel for the rest of their lives.

2) They have a crew of talented receivers to complement Moss already. They only this year gave Jerry Porter a very rich long term deal. Terrell Owens might be an upgrade over Porter, but is he enough of one to put up with all the nonsense he brings with him? I doubt it.

3) At 3-5, the Raiders are in a fragile psychological state. Another couple of losses and the coaches may have a hard time keeping the team together as it is. Why bring in Owens and blow everything up?

4) Owens's age. He's already in his thirties, and the Raiders can't expect to get too many more good years out of him. While that hasn't stopped Oakland before, it might here, because they're trying to develop so many talented younger players at the position.

5) Drew Rosenhaus. The Raiders have enough problems with Poston (Charles Woodson's agent). Why should Davis, Trask, and Lombardi make their lives harder still by taking on not only Owens but his miserable representative?

6) The Salary Cap: The Raiders don't have the revenue to pay Owens the guaranteed money that he would almost certainly demand, nor can they afford the hit against the cap they'd take for him.

There are teams I can see taking a flyer on Owens--the Jets, Baltimore, Chicago, Miami, Atlanta, or Tampa Bay. But the Raiders don't really need him, can't really afford him, and probably don't want him.

Now watch them trade for him and make me look like a dork. It's happened before.

Is It Just Assassins This Time, Pat, Or Do They Get A Hurricane Too?

Caedite eos. Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius. --Abbot Arnold Amaury, attributed.

From Majikthise:


Pat Robertson warned the citizens of Dover that they'd better not expect help from God after letting him down on the whole intelligent design thing.

You can watch the video of it. Well, maybe you can. I couldn't get it to work. It would be amusing to think that this is just the wind that blows from an isolated, increasingly crazy man, but too many people spend too much money to keep him on the air, and too many people in halls of right wing power are either too frightened or too mesmerized by him (actually, it's not an either-or choice. It could be, and probably is, both) for me to think of this as anything other than horrifically dangerous. For a man as quick to excoriate Hollywood films for the potential social effects of their violence and carnality, Robertson is awfully free with language that could drive his more unbalanced suppliants to kill their neighbors.

Week after week Robertson sits on the set of the 700 Club, sounding like Barney Fife getting an anal probe, calling down the wrath of God and the faithful on anyone who dares to ask an impertinent question or defy the Book of Leviticus. Surely if the God of Robertson is willing to wipe out half the population of Florida because Disney gives the partners of gay employees spousal benefits, surely that same God could spare a sincere believer a heretic of his own to kill?

Roberston would be interested to know who else has subscribed to this brand of theology:


LECKTOR
When you were so depressed after
you shot Mr. Garrett Jacob Hobbs to
death, it wasn't the act that got
you down. Didn't you really feel
so bad because killing him felt so
good?
(ironic)
And why shouldn't it feel good?! It
must feel good to God. God does it
all the time!

Graham laughs. Then he starts to listen closely. There is
something here for him:

GRAHAM
I don't believe in God.

LECKTOR
You should, Will. God's terrific!
(beat)
He dropped a church roof on thirty-
four of His worshippers in Texas last
Wednesday night. Just as they were
grovelling to Him and singing a hymn.
Don't you think that felt good?
(beat)
He wouldn't begrudge you two measly
murders.

GRAHAM
Why does it feel good?

LECKTOR
It feels good because: if you do as
God does, enough times, you become
as God is: powerful...

Will Graham thinks about this.

LECKTOR
(fading)
God's a champ! He got a hundred and
sixty Philippines in one plane crash
two months ago... Remember the big
earthquake in Italy last spring...?

--Michael Mann Manhunter

I needn't have gone to fiction for my example. Many of Robertson's theological ancestors have subscribed to the God-as-righteous-serial-killer thesis. The blood stains everyone from St. Jerome to Luther to Torquemada to Jim Jones to Charles Manson. Lector explains the appeal of such a God most straightforwardly, though. It's a God that speaks to our darkest impulses and cruelest tendencies. It's a God that would endorse the use of the rack, the pear, the chair, or the wheel. Use these, the God would say, and become an instrument of My holy will. This holds great appeal to those so confused, damaged, or frustrated by the modern world that their ultimate hope is for their tormentors--the gay, the secular, the liberal, the feminist--to suffer God's merciful, yet sadistic and bloody, vengeance. And if they can pitch in and help, they can not only feel closer to God, they can become as He is.

It must feel so wonderful to be Pat Robertson. Every time a gay person drowns in a flood, Robertson knows that his belief allows him to share in the glorious power that broke the levy or eroded the river bank. And if a believer happened to drown with the homosexual, well, God will sort that out, won't He? And what's more, God and Roberston are willing to invite you to share their power with them (for a price). Such generocity! Such selflessness! Some religions are dumb enough to stop at offering succor for the afflicted, but with Robertson you get the full package of benefits for your money--the might to call plague and burning and horror on all the world's heretics.

Why would you want that power, you ask?

Because as a Christian, you love your enemies.

The Situation Room

Dear CNN,

Enough with lame names for newscasts. Jerry Bruckheimerizing your news set and giving it a name out of Air Force One is not going to sex up Wolf Blitzer. I don't watch a lot of cable news, and the reason I don't is its incessant need to punch up even the most trivial story with graphics and sample music and tricks. ANOTHER HOT BLONDE MISSING! Dun-dun-dun-DUNNNNN. Let's go LIVE to the SITUATION ROOM and watch WOLF BLITZER point at PHILIPS HIGH DEFINITION TVs! PHILIPS TVS! Dun-dun-dun-DUNNNNNNN!!!!!

Just sit behind the desk and read the news copy, jerks. Stop trying to turn the world into a Michael Bay movie. We get quite enough of that from Michael Bay.

Another bit of friendly advice from,

Your Uncle Jim

Poppin' Fresh Nude Unicycles

Not a real post here. I just wanted to see what the ad thing would do.

Update 10:21pm: No change in the ads that I can see, but three people came here having searched for "nude". Thus have I increased my visibility among those seeking something to masturbate to. Maybe I should help them out:

Oh [your name here], when your strong manly hands caressed my silken thigh, only then did I know how it felt to be a real woman.

You can take it from there, can't you? Hey! Dammit! Now you've made the post all sticky, asswipe!

Carlin Interview

Just read a well-done interview with George Carlin at The Onion A.V. Club. This part in particular touches on something that still gnaws at me:


AVC: What's bothersome about the Katrina and "I Am A Bad American" e-mails is that they sound kind of bullying, which raises a tricky question: Do you think it's possible to be truly funny from a position of power? For instance, Dennis Miller, who's always been a smart, funny comedian, has undergone a political conversion over the past decade, and now his comedy is rooted in his support of the Bush administration. And he seems less funny.

GC: For some reason, there aren't as many right-wing comedians as there are left or center or non-political. I read something about this recently that made sense, and I've forgotten what it said, of course. I have great respect for Dennis Miller's mind and ability as a comedian, but I agree that I am not as personally entertained [by] his new material, which you describe as "coming from a position of power." Of course, he always did come from a position of presumed superiority, and I don't necessarily say that pejoratively. He did come from what appeared to be a smartass, superior platform. That's part of what made him work, as a stand-up.

I think your premise is correct, that it's harder to be funny from the position of power. That's a good description for it. Might be a couple other ways of describing it that I can't think of.

I think of it this way. Dennis Miller's pose of pissy narcissism was tolerable in part because he made it clear it was a pose--a pose that did not escape his mockery in his act. In one moment where he kidded his image, he said, "There's nothing wrong with being shallow as long as you're insightful about it." What also made it work was that his irreverance was total. He demonstrated a unversal skepticism which made everyone a target, powerful and powerless alike.

What's made Miller's act less attractive is his hero worship of George W. Bush and his transformation into Bush's on-stage toady. It reminds me of Mort Sahl's totemizing Reagan in the 1980s. It's never fun to see someone who used to hassle The Man become his shill. I'll bet Renfield, for example, was a much livelier conversationalist before he became blindly loyal to Dracula. Afterwards it was all "Dracula this" and "Dracula that" and "I hate the breathing". Tedious.

I also have to say that with Miller I feel rejected. His most recent act says to me, "Get out of here, lefty punk. You don't belong in my audience anymore." While it doesn't depress me, I do feel a little sad about it. Yeah, I've got new friends in David Cross and Patten Oswalt, and I remember the good times. Still, the whole thing leaves a bitter residue.

Of course, that's just my opinion. I could be wrong.

Raiders 23; Chiefs 27

I don't have the heart to talk about this one. Please, Indy, crush the loathesome, scabby Patriots and salvage my week.

My Random Ten

From my iTunes Party Shuffle:

1. Bootleg of 2003 Concert...Elvis Costello
2. Hairshirt...R.E.M.
3. Can't Ignore the Train...10,000 Maniacs
4. The Black Velvet Band...The Irish Rovers
5. Oh Well...Fiona Apple
6. My Wave...Soundgarden
7. Tongue...R.E.M.
8. Medley: Tenderly/You'll Never Walk Alone...Louis Armstrong
9. Floutino Concerto I. Allegro...Antonio Vivaldi
10. "La Notte" III. Largo...Antonio Vivaldi

Work

Now that I've got a first draft of a new novella, I'm turning my attention to a theater project. Your friend and humble narrator will next start a five act satire of the Gulf War soon. It should keep me occupied for a year or two. Long projects are where I live.

Raiders 34 Titans 25

The Raiders were, at one time, up 17-0, then let the Titans back into it with some poor 3rd down defense and an inexcusable Collins interception that was returned for a late touchdown. Warren Sapp was really the player of the game. He sacked Steve McNair three times and a forced fumble that Jerrod Cooper recovered for a touchdown. The Raiders went up late in the game on a 44-yard TD pass from Collins to Jerry Porter. (Collins finally realized that Porter does, in fact, exist.) That was the ball game.

So the Raiders have managed to crawl their way to 3-4 with a game ahead at Arrowhead Stadium against the Chefs. Good for them. Here's hoping that Moss is healthier and the Raiders can once again appear on TV.

Oh, and if anyone out there knows, could someone tell me why, with few exceptions, only one of the two major networks gets to show a doubleheader on Sunday? I know all about the blackout rules when a home team is on TV, but today the Seahawks had a bye week. FOX showed two games, but CBS only showed the late game, flooding the early time slot with infomercials hawking fake cures for cancer. Is it the affiliate's option, or do they make that decision at network? Either way, what makes them think that opposing the other network with informericals instead of games makes financial sense? If the Raiders-Titans game, just as a for-instance, had been on TV, CBS might have drawn a lot of viewers away from a snoozer of a Giants-Indigenous Persons game. I have to figure there's some kind of NFL rule working here, but I can't figure out what it might be. Would someone who knows please explain?

Again, For Those Keeping Track

I managed to complete a first draft of the new novella. Soon the revising begins.

Brace Yourselves

With Harriet Miers out of the picture, will George W. Bush take the responsible course and nominate a proven professional with the capacity to judge fairly, or will he decide to use the nomination as a means to stick it to his political enemies? Need I ask?

Raiders 38, Bills 17

Jordan was dominant in today's game, running for over 100 yards and scoring three touchdowns. These were the Raiders we were promised at the beginning of the season. May it continue.

Behind the Scenes At the Factory

Those of you keeping track might be wondering why "Is the Library Burning?", Novella #3 of the long delayed Escape Velocities collection isn't done yet. I'd promised to wrap the thing up by the end of August, but, well, I'll explain...

In mid-September, I'd reached page 90 of the novella. My financial problems were a distraction, but I'd still been able to maintain a decent rhythm. Writing long fiction is more a question of dogged, grinding work than inspiration, and after three years writing The Ice Age, that's the pace I'm accustomed to. Anyway, I'd reached the 90th page, when I found myself pausing and procrastinating. My thumbs started to hurt from late night Madden football games. Each time I tried to get back to work, I'd stare at the screen, tap keys, and move to check my e-mail or read news that hadn't changed in the five minutes since I'd last read it.

For a couple of weeks I blamed the stress of finances, but after my hearing at court, I came to realize the truth. I'd written ninety frigging pages and had no idea how to end the fucking story. If I went ahead with the ideas I had, the novella wouldn't so much end as it would splat, like a tomato thrown off a skyscraper. I spent a few days wavering between total panic and abject depression. Tutoring sessions and my birthday trip kept me grounded, but I couldn't see a solution and saw visions of four months of wasted effort--me and Sisyphus working for the same temp agency.

But then Seattle's horrible traffic came to my aid. On a day when it took me forty minutes to travel six miles, I went over the story in my mind. "Is the Library Burning?" is about a woman named Theresa who, while recovering in Cairo from injuries she suffered in a bus bombing, wonders whether she wants to return to the United States or move to the E.U. and leave the what she sees as the fanaticism of the U.S. behind. Included in her deliberations--most of which are about the deaths of Hypatia of Alexandria and Cicero, who failed to extract themselves from societies descending into tyranny before the mob could catch up with them--is the question of abandoning her mother, who fears travel. I realized while groaning at the hideous standstill of I-5, that while I'd done a good job exploring Theresa's thoughts on history and the decline of the U.S., I'd given the problem of her mother nowhere to go. They got along too well at the beginning, and their one argument over whether to leave the U.S. lacked a personal element. It was entirely ideological. I'd lost an opportunity to explore the larger issue of abandonment. I'd already established that Theresa was divorced. If I could work more in that area, perhaps making the divorce a source of tension between mother and daughter, I might solve the problem of the ending. The stakes can rise from the relatively narrow question of leaving the U.S. to the larger issue of the role of abandonment and disillusionment in Theresa's life.

Will it work? I don't know yet. I had to go back and do a lot of revising in the early sections. I feel like I have an ending in mind, but it remains to be seen whether this one will be the right one, or even mean what I think it means. Still, I feel a lot better at this point in the month than I did at the beginning, and I guess we will see what we will see.

Bits of Light in the Gloom

Yes, we live in a fascist state, New Orleans and Iraq are wrecks, and the Raiders couldn't cross the goal line in a tank; but there are small reasons to live. The Rockford Files, after endless delays, will come out on DVD December 6th. I can't wait.

The Wish For Kings

In his "Notebook" column in this month's Harper's Lewis Lapham points to an Umberto Eco essay on the common ideological points of all species of fascism:

"The truth is revealed once and only once.
"Parliamentary democracy is by definition rotten because it doesn't represent the voice of the people, which is that of the sublime leader.
"Doctrine outpoints reason, and science is always suspect.
"Critical thought is the province of degenerate intellectuals, who betray the culture and subvert traditional values.
"The national identity is provided by the nation's enemies.
"Argument is tantamount to treason.
"Perpetually at war, the state must govern with the instruments of fear.
"Citizens do not act; they play the supporting role of 'the people' in the grand opera that is the state."

This reads like a checklist of the reasons why the U.S. is in so much trouble now. For me, it's always gone beyond Bush. He's simply one of the nastier symptoms of the underlying disease. I'm afraid that a large percentage of Americans have simply lost the habits of mind necessary to sustain a democracy. They have lost faith in their ability to reason and to learn something new, and prefer the assurances of those who claim to hear the voices of gods. The government of capable but flawed human beings seems to them less attractive than rule by the decree of a leader whose heart is always pure (because he says it is) and whose guts are always right (because his wise counselors always praise them). Given the right ad campaign and a little more social conditioning, the House of Bush could probably have itself installed as an official dynasty, with James Dobson as their Archbishop and Dick Cheney as the Lord High Executioner.

According to Lapham's satirical riff, America won't change very much under fascism. Our overlords needn't burn books--only a few people read them, and they're easily caricatured by their choice of pricey caffienated beverage. Also, although a playwright could become president of the Czech republic and a poet might as recently as ten years ago become President of Russia, writers are so deeply in the margins of American society that, however rudely they might treat Laura Bush at a book fair, nobody outside a few coffeehouses has heard of most of them. Besides, most writers are so busy chasing after a spot in the Oprah Book Club that they have little time for planning assaults on the palaces of the mighty.*

Further, our overlords needn't destroy the radio stations. Their allies own most of them, and given the way they've written the rules, they should be able to buy the rest without any ugly resort to bloodshed. Most of our labor unions have already been broken up, and once Wal Mart gets into other lines of business, they should be able to clear out the rest. Besides, the corporations promise that if you work hard and ruthlessly and avoid the trap of friendship, you can rise high enough in the corporate structure to eventually become Secretary of the U.S. Treasury. (They'll probably rename it C.E.O. of the U.S. Treasury, to avoid unnecessary confusion in titles.) So there's no real reason to comb the middle classes for signs of incipient rebellion. (Making it possible to include promoting unrest as a reason to lower credit scores or raise health insurance rates out to take care of most troublemakers. Much more civilized than a concentration camp, you have to admit.)

Reading Lapham's essay helps me understand why I feel so little joy at Bush's 37% approval rating. We had to lose an entire city to get it down there, and under the circumstances 37% seems awfully high, doesn't it? If the President launched a nuclear missile at the San Andreas fault and sank the West Coast into the sea, we might get it down to 30%. (Though it might pop back up once Pat Robertson points out that Bush destroyed the unholy sewers of both Hollywood and the Castro District in one quick strike. I'm sure that Bush's handlers could work out the spin for that. They're clever people.) And even if we should rid ourselves of Bush, can we say we've cured ourselves of the affliction that brought him to us? Or will we just turn to another would be Duce and nod our heads at his crackpot notions of how the world works? What do we have to do to cure both the symptom of Bush and the underlying illness? No less than restore to Americans the idea that we are citizens, with a responsibility to continue learning and questioning not only our governments, but also our bosses and our clergymen. We have to drum it into our own heads that any problems that we have will need to be solved by other citizens who are both as intelligent and as ignorant as we are; and that no citizen should be able to claim sole possession of the unerrant truth without the rest of us laughing him out of the building.

That's a hard thing to fix, and I fear it's already too late to start. Sad. Sad. Sad.

*Just in case Oprah is reading this, I don't mean to imply that the Oprah Book Club is a bad thing. I'm glad you started picking living writers for it again, and even though your first choice, James Frey, seems like an uninspired one, I have every confidence that it'll get better and every hope that you'll (please-oh-please-oh-please) include my own work in it someday. Listen, it'll be great, Oprah! Me and you! Wait, where are you going? PLEASE! I'M SO BROKE!

A Barren Source of Amusement

San Diego 27; Oakland 14

Randy Moss suffered an injury early in the game. LaMont Jordan ran for two touchdowns and gained 100 combined yards, but the Raiders sink to 1-4. I stopped listening to the game toward the end of the 1st half, when San Diego took a 24-7 lead, choosing instead to watch Misery. Kerry Collins still can't find the end zone without a map, in spite of two weeks of practice. The offense can't find rhythm or consistency when it counts, and Collins's streak of pass attempts without an interception came to an end.

The New Bond

It's Daniel Craig. (I won't bother linking to anything. You couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting a story about it.) He looks like he'll be all right in the role, though I'd rather they retained Pierce for a last film. It would be nice if someone would dig down to the truth about Brosnan's dismissal, but that won't happen as long as film journalism remains with the likes of US Weekly.

I'm less sanguine about the producers turning Casino Royale into an origin story. It wasn't one initially; Bond was already a "00" agent at the beginning of the book, and though the novel establishes several characters, there's a sense that Bond already knows most of them--either through work or by reputation. We have a sense that we're entering a universe that was already running when we got here, which is an underrated sensation. Honestly, I can't think of anything duller than finding out how Bond got his number--a story Fleming told only in summary because it was, really, kind of dull and grim--or how he got his Aston Martin. (I already know, actually. We saw it in Goldfinger. Q-Branch retired Bond's Bentley and assigned him the Aston Martin DB-5, which Bond proceeded to ruin by crashing it into a wall at Goldfinger's plant.) Over the years, the films have given us hints of backstory--the deaths of Bond's parents in a climbing accident (Goldeneye) or his failure to graduate from Cambridge (The Spy Who Loved Me), but nothing too specific.

I prefer it that way, really. It's possible to write about Bond as a man in the grip of his own past, riven by deep-seated interior conflict, etcetera, etcetera; but was that ever what made his movies fun in the first place? It's a mistake to confuse Bond with Batman. Batman's internal struggles are interesting mainly because there has to be some explanation for why a good-looking grown man with a life to lead would choose to assume the identity of a flying predator and battle criminals in the Gotham night. But Bond doesn't assume other identities. He's always 007. He likes drinks, hot women, sports, fast cars, and good suits. He also has a keen interest in the natural sciences and speaks an astonishing array of languages. He seems to be supremely at home with himself, never interrupting the action to contemplate his inner demons (which, if he has them, he has the good British decency to keep well-hidden while in company). The last thing I want to see is a Bond who dwells, and what is an origin story but a place where we give the hero things to dwell over?

For an example of what I mean, think of Bond's clubland literary ancestor, "The Saint". The TV series (and the books) never got into Simon Templar's origins, but the 1995 movie did (he was supposedly an orphan in Hong Kong who chose his name after one of the brutal warders beat him). Which would you rather watch--Roger Moore in a pair of the TV episodes, or Val Kilmer in the movie? If you answer the latter, you are beyond pleasure, beyond pity, and beyond hope.

Dispatches

The meeting with the Jack Straw people was productive. The demon voices in my hair have stopped, and I'm going to stick with the literature project for now. My other labors stand where they've stood. In a way, it hardly seems worth blogging about, but it was my long day and I'm beat.

Before I go, however, I will mention that I saw Maggie Smith in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie last night. The novel on which it was based was a brilliant twist on the inspriational teacher formula of Goodbye, Mr. Chips, and the movie picks it up brilliantly. I can't imagine anyone but Maggie Smith in the role of the fascistic Jean Brodie, and the cast of young actresses who played her students was excellent. See it. Live it. Love it. Be it.

Two Cheers For Ron Sims

Hip! Hip! Uh--What took you so long, Ron? Our county executive finally rejected Southwest Airlines' plans to move from SeaTac airport to Boeing Field. I saw no reason to give Southwest Airlines the right to force millions of dollars worth of road upgrades on us, as well as all the air traffic and noise difficulties that would have arisen from having another major airport five miles away from SeaTac. Sims should have rejected the idea out of hand, but at least we won't have to speak any more about it.

Southwest has threatened to move their operations to Everett or out of the area altogether. If that's what they want to do, let them. After that 11-hour flight I took to Chicago, they can go as far away as they like. They'd open their gates up to another airline--one that may actually believe in getting their passengers where they're going in less time than it would take to walk. Let's face it, even if Southwest moved from Seattle to Everett, they'd probably take ten years and go through Renton, Bellevue, North Bend, Woodinville, Marysville, and Bellingham first.

Happy Birthday To Me

It's tomorrow actually, but because Monday's a business day for me, I celebrated over the weekend with bitterspice and my father. We had a great time. I made some of the Chicken with Herbs and Yogurt and my dad went out, bought some oysters, and fried them up for poor boy sandwiches. Good stuff all around.

This year I used my birthday money for a food processor and DVDs of The Incredibles, Psycho, and Misery. Now I'm turning my attention to the Jack Straw writing fellowship. I'd already planned to submit a story for the writer's portion, but the demon monkey who live in my head are telling me to submit a portion of Diary of A Superfluous Man to their artist's project fellowship to see if I can pick up 20 hours of free studio time and put together a radio version of the play. The only question I have is what I'd do with the fucker once I had it. Anybody who knows radio drama--Larry, I'm talking to you--give me a shout so that I can learn how that world works.

Speaking of Ads

A bit of political reform I'd like to see--no more bullshit names for political action committees. I'm tired of ads sponsored by Patients and Doctors for Responsible Reform (the insurance industry) or Voters and Entrepreneurs for Unfettered Street Commerce (pimps). Of course it's pretty easy to figure out that this or that ad is sponsored by Big [insert industry here] instead of a genuine grassroots organization; it's the dishonesty of the formulation that grates on me. They should make the ad producers put their corporate sponsors' logos in the ad, kind of like a race car sticks its sponsors' logos all over the chassis. I realize this might have a chilling effect on fake-grassroots advertising, but...hmm...where's the problem?

Me Again

Yeah, I've sold out. I put ads on the blog. Why? Because nothing makes me happier than forcing a giant corporation that could crush me like a bug to send me a check for $0.35 every month.

I'm Beat

Who knew that two minutes in Federal Court being interviewed by a woman who hasn't had a good laugh since Sputnik could be so enervating? All went well, though. It looks like the legal process will, for me, be much less Kafkaesque than I feared.

I need to unwind and rest, so that I can get up for thinking about the misery of life under Bush, Iraq, bird flu, my student loans, advancing decrepitude (my birthday is in six days), my career, the sorry state of the Oakland Raiders' red zone offense, the problems that have crept into my new novella, and assorted worries, cavils, and carps.

See y'all later.

George W. Bush is the most brilliant man I know

Now that I've said this, can I be on the Supreme Court too?

August Wilson Dead

It was something I knew was coming, but it's still crushing. He was a giant.

Cowboys 13; Raiders 19

At last. Lamont Jordan and Sebastian Janikowski are clearly the big heroes here. Yes, Moss had 125 yards against the Cowboys defense, but it was Jordan's running (126 yards) and SeaBass's foot (4 FGs, two from 40+ yards) that gave the game to Oakland. The Raiders have victory #1.

Some causes for concern.

1) Collins is still streakier than I'd like. He needs to develop more consistency.

2) The Raider defense was excellent until late in the 4th quarter, when they suddenly broke down and handed the Cowboys two long passes that put them in position to steal the game.

3) Jake Grove left the game with a knee injury. I don't remember hearing that he was back in the lineup. This bears watching, because he is a fine pass-blocker with remarkable skills for such a young player.

4) Adam Treu, the long snapper, gave both Lechler and Janikowski a few high snaps today, putting the kicking game in unnecessary peril. He's usually good about these things. Let's hope it's just a temporary problem.

5) As always, penalties. The Raiders should have won this game by a lot more than they did, but drive sustaining and drive killing penalties kept the Cowboys in it. Warren Sapp did something unusually stupid when, having already wrapped up Drew Bledsoe, he threw him down to the turf, forcing the referees to hand the Cowboys fifteen big yards on a 3rd and 8. The Cowboys ended up getting a field goal a few plays later. Yes, the refs have it in for the Raiders. We need to count on seven or eight penalties per game. Still, that's no reason to make things worse than they need to be.

Some reasons for optimism.

1) The Raiders found their running game, against a defense that hadn't given up 100 yards to a rusher since early last year. Over time, this should help the Raiders with play action and give Collins more chances to look down the field.

2) Randy Moss is still Randy Moss, and is consistently good for at least one spectacular play per game.

3) Kerry Collins still hasn't thrown an interception, though he came close a couple of times today.

4) The defense really seems to be coming together. They're still missing some pieces, and will break down from time to time, but we're seeing much greater solidity from them as a unit. As long as the defense sustains this level of play, the Raiders need only score more than 20 points per game to win consistently.

Glad of the Weekend

I'm more than usually tired after this week. Yesterday's marathon commute to Federal Way really took it out of me. I'm damn glad that I've worked the business out so that I have three-day weekends because tonight's commute looked even worse. Now I can rest, recharge, finish reading a book, see bitterspice, and put the last ten or fifteen pages on the new novella. (This one will complete the linked-novella collection Escape Velocities which I started seven years ago.) The Raider game won't be on TV up here, but I'll monitor it as best I can.

All in all, I hope to take it easy. The upcoming week doesn't promise to be a whole lot of laughs.

Thought for the Day

"I Gave Up Hope And it Worked Just Fine"
--"Advice and Self Help Titles" George Carlin

Katrina Victims About To Get Hammered Again

Thanks to the Republicans' refusal to given them an exemption to their scummy, putrid, awful new bankruptcy law. You can read about it in the New York Times. Those who know me understand that I have personal feelings about this. I won't get into them. I'll just say this. The whole point of bankruptcy laws is to give people who suffer enormous losses--as most of us are bound to at some point in our lives--a chance to emerge from crushing debt and start their lives over. Half of personal bankruptcies owe to massive medical expenses. Most of the rest come from natural disasters, layoffs, job loss, divorce, deaths in the family or other bad circumstances. It's sickening to see a gaggle of pampered congressmen, whose every breath is covered by the best insurance taxpayers can buy, drafting laws to punish people who find themselves in these positions. It's one thing to have government by benign neglect (the best outcome we could have hoped for from Bush); it's quite another to have a government that seems to actively hate the people it governs.

Taste the arrogance in this statement by James Sensenbrenner:

Representative F. James Sensenbrenner Jr. of Wisconsin, the chairman of the House Judiciary Committee, rejected the notion of reopening the legislation, saying it already included provisions that would ensure that people left "down and out" by the storm would still be able to shed most of their debts. Lawmakers who lost the long fight over the law, he said, "ought to get over it," according to The Associated Press.

Uh-huh. They'll be forced into Chapter 13 if the income they had before the storm rubbed out their jobs indicates that they have enough disposable income to pay a high percentage of their total debt. And they'll have to attend "consumer counseling" classes which will advise them to--what--live in a place that doesn't suffer from storms, floods, or earthquakes? Then they'll have to go through a six month waiting period, during which creditors will treat them oh, so gently, with the lawsuits and wage garnishment and other fun stuff. They'll need to have enough to hire a lawyer because Sensenbrenner and his buddies complicated the law to make filing bankrupcy pro se nearly impossible. And they'll still have to spend money paying off debt that they could have otherwise spent rebuilding their ruined lives.

Thanks large, Sensenbrenner. Fuck you and your mamma.

Religion may be the opiate of the masses...

...but what's even more like an opiate, is the opium. (Or the methamphetamine, as the case may be.) I will have to remember this if I'm ever picked up for drug possession--not that I would be. "Officer, I was only carrying this brick of high-quality Cambodian heroin in my ass because you never know when you might be taken hostage."

Now That's Good Watchin'

Cosmos, Carl Sagan's landmark science series, will be back on television, digitally remastered, starting tonight. If I had a TiVo it would be so totally filled. Sagan made me want to become an astronomer. I didn't, as it worked out; but I still find the series inspiring.

New Raider Blog

Quaketown has a pretty good little Keebler tree running, and I'm not just saying that because I am the Official Raider Take Technical Advisor, with all the rights and responsibilities appertaining thereto. Now if only I could get Norv Turner to return my calls. I've won dozens of John Madden Super Bowl titles. I can cure what ails them, Norv! I can cure it!

Anyway, check it out. No other fan writes better haiku about Raider defeats.

Why Am I Not Surprised?

The Patriots' thrilling come-from-behind win apparently got a little help from the refs. (I know you're all shocked, shocked, shocked to learn this.) Apparently, the Patriots got 52 more seconds than they were entitled to to mount their game-winning drive. Their last drive should have started with 29 seconds on the clock.

Now, in fairness, the error goes back to a play early in the 4th quarter, and undoubtedly both teams would have managed the game rather differenly if the clock had been properly set. Still, it would have meant the Steelers had that much less clock to run off once they had the lead, and as we know, every second can be huge.

Still, it's stuff like this that explains why I don't hate the Buccaneers or the Ravens, who ended our other two runs at a championship this decade, but I loathe the Patriots. The referees supply the deus ex machina for them with a regluarity that's awfully tedious.

There is some fun to be found in the league, though. The Colts and Steelers look great, and the Buccaneers and Bengals should be fun to watch. It looks like I'll have a fun season rooting for Anyone But the Patriots, even as my beloved Raiders struggle.

Finally, a candidate who really cares about San Diego-er-Seattle-er-Whatever

From today's Seattle Times:

"Ángel Bolaños was the only Seattle City Council candidate to take a firm stand against taxpayer support for the NFL's San Diego Chargers.

"That's right. Bolaños, who finished fourth in a four-candidate primary Tuesday, lifted almost verbatim the campaign platform of San Diego City Council candidate Kathyrn Burton and put her policy positions on his Web site.

"In some cases, Bolaños replaced references to San Diego with Seattle. But he didn't catch them all."

I don't think he should have backed down, the sellout. It's high time someone in this city stood up to the San Diego Chargers. Indeed, I propose that the City Council pass and then rescind funding for the Chargers as a gesture of defiance. What kind of politician is this guy, anyway? Rather than admitting to plagiarism, he should have said that he stands shoulder to shoulder with Kathryn Burton and any other politician who has the guts to oppose the San Diego Chargers--that he calls upon officials in other cities to make the same strong stand against their cruel, championshipless tyranny.

At least he had the political savvy to blame his unpaid peons. Now wave goodbye, Mr. Bolaños, and tell us you're happy to spend more time with your family.

TV Presidents

I don't write all that much about TV, because aside from the NFL, I don't like much that's on TV. Still, having seen the ads for the new Geena Davis presidential drama "Commander in Chief", I feel an urge to say a few things. The ads tells us, in big bold shocking letters, "A WOMAN WILL BE PRESIDENT". The ad makes it sound like a more remote prospect than it really is. I doubt that any Democrat will win the White House in 2008 (how many of us will Bush have to kill before the Democrats get their shit together? It's way past urgent, kids.), but among the field so far it looks like Hillary Clinton may have the best shot. There are other several female senators--Boxer, Feinstein, Mikulski, Granholm, Murray, Cantwell, Dole, and Hutchinson. Among them, Dole has already taken a shot at the presidency. There are also many female governors and House members. It's not a huge talent pool compared to the guys, but it is growing all the time.

The really remote prospect, a favorite convention of the more gutless species of TV writers, is an Independent Vice-President ascending to the top job. What color is the sky in their world? There are, at this moment, no independent governors. We have one independent senator--ex-Republican Jim Jeffords of Vermont, who became an Independent because the White House insisted on treating him like something the cat dragged in. He caucuses with the Democrats. There is an independent House member, Bernie Sanders of Vermont, a lovely freedom socialist (bless his Eugene Debsian heart) who also caucuses with the Democrats. (There's something about Vermont. It must be the syrup.) The bench is awfully shallow there, as it always has been for 3rd party types. And further, why would a hard-line conservative administration choose an independent at all? If tacking to the middle is an issue, and it hasn't been for national Republican campaigns in a while, why not use one of the northeastern moderates that the party keeps around as pets? How do you think Colin Powell ended up as Secretary of State? Because he would bring a strong credible voice to foreign policy? Don't be silly. He was there so that people could look at the Bush cabinet's group picture and say, "Any administration that has Powell in it can't be all that crazy or incompetent." The Republican party still has enough of those guys lying around that they don't really need an independent whose loyalty might be less reliable.

TV writers love political independents for shows based in D.C. It doesn't automatically piss off half the audience, and allows the lead character to seem like a throughtful, good-hearted public servant who struggles against all the nasty partisan politics in Washington. (That many political independents, like Jesse Ventura and Ross Perot, turn out to be cranks fails to register with them.) Partisan=bad. Moderate=good. Focus group tested and family approved TV, as bland as plain nonfat yogurt mixed with Wonder bread. Gutless, cheap, predictable, and unwilling to take a stand. Tired.

The West Wing has its own problems as far as the Republican party is concerned. The Republicans in that alternate universe nominated a centrist agnostic as their candidate, and the show portrayed him as a preordained juggernaut. I guess the Christian Right vanished into that other alternative universe where Spock has a beard. The Alan Alda character would never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever get within a thousand miles of the Republican convention hall. He would be the sort of person in the party whose very existence would be denied. Agnostics rarely get elected to anything in this country. Churches are just too big a part of the organizations of both parties to allow that to happen. The Alda character is a non-threatening Republican for a show whose audience craves a weekly escape from the world where Bush is in charge, but his stature in the fictional Republican party strains the willingness to suspend disbelief. I can understand the desire, the deep desire, to imagine a different world from the one we inhabit, but this is a situation where the reality-based community needs to get real.

Raiders 20; Philly 23

The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...The Raiders could have won but...

And I Thought Richard Lee Was Fucked Up

From AP:

"IDAHO FALLS, Idaho – A Pocatello weatherman who gained attention for an unusual theory that Hurricane Katrina was caused by the Japanese mafia using a Russian electromagnetic generator has quit the television station."

What a frigging loon! The only question is when he'll get a job in the Bush Administration.

Friday Random Ten

From iTunes Party Shuffle

1. Airport...Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers (She's the One)
2. Irish Rover...The Clancy Brothers (Ain't It Grand Boys)
3. "Il tempesta di Mare" III. Presto...Antoinio Vivaldi (The Four Seasons and other Concertos)
4. Layla (Live at the Hammersmith)...Eric Clapton (461 Ocean Blvd.)
5. I'm a One Woman Man...Hindu Love Gods (Hindu Love Gods)
6. Waiting For the Miracle...Leonard Cohen (The Future)
7. Kokomo...The Beach Boys (The Greatest Hits)
8. Tivo!...Patton Oswalt (Feelin' Kinda Patton)
9. Wish You Were Here...Pink Floyd (Wish You Were Here)
10. Don't Fade On Me...Tom Petty (Wildflowers)

Saturday

By the way. I'm thoroughly enjoying Ian McEwan's latest novel Saturday. It's an odd thing, but I have more of an affinity for British novelists than I do for American writers. (My appreciation for my righteous MFA classmate Doug Heckman notwithstanding.) I suppose the connection for me springs from a shared interest in incorporating scientific discourse in narrative. I like exploring the ways in which science affects the way we think about, and talk about, one another, and the Brits just seem to work that theme harder than Americans do. Amercian fiction writers seem to be, for the most part, either uninterested in or afraid of science, and I find that sad. While I've lost interest in being a science fiction writer, I think that writers do themselves and their readers a terrible disservice if they cut themselves off from that segment of the academic conversation. Charles Johnson, my mentor at the UW, puts it, not surprisingly, better than I do:

"If you are a writer who regards literary creation as, not merely a possible profession, but as a passion, there is always something to do. If you are not writing fresh material, you are revising; if you are not revising, you are reading--litearture, philosophy, mythology, the sciences--everything that employs the world."

McEwan's novel employs the world. He takes it all, literature, medicine, the arts, terrorism, civilization, and puts it on the page. It's something I always try to do in my own work, and it's an inspiration to see him do it in his. Check it out.

Admitting Defeat

Kevin Drum on the CNN/USA Today poll numbers for the Iraq War:

"If you add up the numbers, 63% of Americans think it's still possible for us to win in Iraq. And no matter what they tell pollsters, my guess is that anyone who thinks we're capable of winning the war won't trust a politician who advocates withdrawal. This is the Democratic dilemma in a nutshell, and it probably explains this Knight Ridder report:

"'Nationally known Democratic war critics, including Howard Dean, the chairman of the Democratic National Committee, and Sens. Hillary Rodham Clinton of New York, Russell Feingold of Wisconsin and John Kerry of Massachusetts, won't attend what sponsors say will be a big anti-war rally Saturday in Washington.'

"For more on this, see Lorelei Kelly. As a conservative journalist told her today, "The liberals were pretty much right on Viet Nam. And what did that get them? They destroyed their reputation on national security for three decades." I have a feeling that's a widespread attitude."

I wonder if Americans actually understand what victory in war really means. World War II is the war we typically refer to whenever we set off on a military adventure. Images of Chamberlain's appeasement of Hitler, the press for total subjugation of Germany military forces, and Parisians dancing in the streets were used as metaphors to help us understand the stakes in the War with Iraq. The UN, ostensibly, was Chamberlain, weakly offering concessions to the maniacal aggressor Hussein. The objective of our forces was nothing less than an advance to Baghdad, just as the allies had pushed into Berlin. And our forces, like the forces that liberated France, were to be greated with flowers and parades.

Why did these metaphors fail to match the realities of this war? Because, in almost every way, World War II was an anomaly in the history of warfare. Very seldom in human history has a figure like Hitler risen to power in a state capable of conducting war on a global scale, and then used that power as aggressively as Hitler did. Hitler not only felt a need to attack and conquer his neighbors, but he also felt that this had to be accomplished as quickly as possible. Nazi ideology, unlike that of Soviet Communism, made it necessary for Hitler, personally, as the one leader destiny chose for the Reich, to accomplish his mission to acquire lebensraum and annihilate the Jews while he was still young enough to carry it through. (He turned fifty the year the war began). Nazi ideology permitted no compromises with enemy powers, nor tactical withdrawls from tenuous positions. This made him impossible to deal with by any means short of total victory. We could not, as we did at the end of World War I and most conflicts in years and ages past, conclude the war by a negotiated settlement.

Hussein, obnoxious and thuggish though he was, was not Adolf Hitler. He did not pose a unique threat. His assaults on his neighbors--the Iranians and the Kuwaitis--were bloody and expensive to reverse, but were reversed without the need to press into Baghdad and overthrow the regime. Even the Iranians, who despised Hussein, were able to reach a negotiated settlement to end the Iran-Iraq war. Though Hussein does subscribe to a crude kind of pan-Arabism, he never possessed the military or economic resources to make himself a hegemon, much less the undisputed master of the region. He was, at most, a local irritant, a sociopathic thief who robbed and murdered his own people. He was clearly no good for the Iraqi people, but was not the serious threat to those living far outside his borders that Hitler was.

Further, Hussein, unlike Hitler, was sensitive to outside pressure. In the months before the invasion, Hussein had allowed inspectors into his country to examine WMD sites. He did his best to slow them down, not so much because he wanted to conceal his chemical and biological weapons as because he didn't want his enemies inside Iraq to know that he didn't have chemical and biological weapons. Hussein was, in comparison with Hitler, a rational actor, and would back down if clearly outnumbered and outgunned. Up to the moment the war was launched, the possibility that the whole Iraq question could be resolved through diplomacy was still out there.

The metaphor connecting the UN (or France) with Chamberlain also fails under scrutiny. By the time Chamberlain went to Munich, the Germans had already annexed the Saarland, remilitarized the Rheinland, murdered the Austrian president, and annexed Austria. It was tragically clear what Hitler was after by the time Chamberlain met with him in Munich. Appeasement was not only a disaster, but a predictable one, given the character of Hitler's regime. The outstanding question with Iraq was, if the UN had gotten its way and the inspectors had been allowed more time to complete their examination of suspected Iraqi WMD sites, what would the harm have been? Was Saddam about to invade another country? Was he, at the time, even threatening to do so? How indeed, would allowing the inspectors, whom Saddam didn't want in his country at all, to continue their work constitute appeasement?

We need look no farther than the news dispatches from Iraq to realize that our armies were greeted with rather more explosives than flowers. This too was predictable. Iraq's major ethnic groups have had incompatible political goals ever since the British manufactured modern Iraq in its partition of the Ottoman Empire's old holdings. This has not changed and will not change. Ethnic ambitions are almost impossible to supress without the application of spectacular amounts of violence and intimidation, and even then, they fester and wait for the oppressor (whether native or foreign) to tire. So it will be in Iraq. The Iraqis, when they're not too busy killing one another, will kill us until we leave.

And don't let's start the nonsense about there not being enough troops in Iraq. We don't have, and did not have before the invasion, enough troops for this sort of mission. Our military resources, already somewhat strained by Afghanistan, were broken in Iraq. Recruitment has collapsed. We're shoveling billions of dollars into the fire just to get the horrible results we're getting now. We don't have what it takes, and neither does the rest of the world. And while it would be nice to get other nations involved in bailing Iraq out, it's questionable that they would do so because they would see it as sending good money in after bad. Why should the French or the Germans or the Russians, who told us not to go in, now sacrifice their blood and treasure because we insisted on ignoring them? In the meantime, as we saw with Katrina, we've blown both financial and human resources that we need to cover our own problems on our adventure in Iraq.

I don't know what victory in Iraq would look like, but I know a defeat when I see one. Aside from overthrowing Saddam, we have failed in every political and military aim that this war was supposed to gain for us. We are isolated from the world. We're still under terrorist threat. We've exposed our inability to cope with terrorist threats. We've created a new middle eastern hegemon in Iran. We've emboldened the North Koreans, and we've produced a simmering civil war in Iraq that will propogate new and exotic terrorist threats in the future. I'd love to think that we still have cards to play there, but we don't. We can withdraw now, and admit failure, or we can take more casualties, withdraw later, and admit failure. If Americans can't see that, it's because they're still deluding themselves with glorious memories of a war that bears no resemblance to what's going on in Iraq.

As George Kennan put it:

"Except for our own Civil War, which was quite a different thing and was fought for a different purpose, our involvements with the use of armed force in the modern age have occurred primarily in the confusing and to some extent misleading experiences of the two world wars of the [20th] century. Both these wars ended in unconditional surrender, encouraging us in a view that the purpose of war was not to bring about a mutally advantageous compromise with an external adversary seen as totally evil and inhuman, but to destroy completely the power and will of that adversary."

Our distorted, World War II/Greatest Generation view of warfare led us to suffer greatly in Korea, Vietnam, Lebanon, and now in Iraq. How long do we have to bleed before we realize that our country can lose, has lost, and is losing? What kind of national security can we expect to have if our leaders can't tell the difference between a win and a loss, and don't know what's at stake when they take risks in foreign affairs? What has our erroneous conviction that America has never lost a war (not counting, I guess, the War of 1812 and Vietnam) done to the way we approach armed conflict? In light of this poll, I have to wonder about the 65% of the American people who see a prospect for success where there is none. It is a shame that Democratic politicians won't take the trouble to cure America of this delusion, because when a nation's politicians are no longer capable of responding to the realities of the world, it isn't long before the barbarians arrive at that nation's gates.

We're headed for a lot of grief, aren't we?

I've Crapped Bigger Than This Name

The Jack Palance reference in the quiz made me do it. That and several viewings of the MST3000 version of Outlaw. Anyway, I took a quiz because Larry did (and I follow him as blindly as Renfield follows Dracula). Here are my results:

My pirate name is:

Iron Morty Read

A pirate's life isn't easy; it takes a tough person. That's okay with you, though, since you a tough person. Even through many pirates have a reputation for not being the brightest souls on earth, you defy the sterotypes. You've got taste and education. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from fidius.org.

Update on My New Orleans Relatives

My Aunt Anne and Uncle Stanhope are in Houston now. Their house, under seven feet of water the day after Katrina hit, is now under four feet of water. They'll have to raze it because it's now infested with toxic mold. My cousin, Stanhope Jr., and his family are planning to settle in Houston. They have a young daughter who'll have gotten used to a new school by the time they could move back.

What's the Matter With Collins?

QB Kerry Collins is a tough guy to figure out. He certainly has a first class arm, and with Randy Moss he can be frighteningly effective. In preseason, he looked almost Gannon-like, finding open receivers with ease and completing a high percentage of his passes. Even now, in two losses, he looks good statistically. Yes, he has a fumble problem, but so does Daunte Culpepper, and so did Warren Moon, yet I'd be more comfortable with either of them running the Raiders' offense than I am with Kerry Collins. Why? What do I see that's lacking?

There's a reason they call it intangibles. Football intelligence, game management skills, improvisational ability, call it what you will. Great quarterbacks have it. They're calm and creative even under spectacular pressure. You know that as long as their throwing arms remain attached to their bodies, your team has a chance. They keep plays alive that should be dead. They find the open receivers you don't see. They make everyone around them better.

Peyton Manning is one of these guys. So is Donovan McNabb. So is, and I will choke as I write this, Tom Brady. The Raider parade in this area includes Gannon, Plunkett, Stabler, and Lamonica. Michael Vick may one day be one of these guys, once he puts all his tools together.

Kerry Collins is, well, not. Pressure disrupts him too easily. He can't scramble or move out of a collapsing pocket. And while people play reasonably well around him, it's hard to say that they become better for his presence. He's fine, as long as there's nothing at stake or he's got a wave of emotion carrying him, but once things go badly, or the team really needs a score, his accuracy and poise vanish. When the heat's on, rather than making those around him great, he needs everyone around him to play perfectly for him to be good.

If the Raiders continue to struggle, they'll sooner or later have to turn to Marques Tuiasosopo and begin his tenure as a Raider starter. They've invested a lot of time and money in Gannon Jr. His time may come faster than anyone expects. Tui may be great or he may be nothing, but Collins is what he is. And we know from what's around the league that we can do better.

Fuck!

KC 23; Raiders 17. The Raiders might have won this game had the offense not taken most of the second half off. I won't blame it all on Collins, but he seemed awfully slow on the trigger. The sportscasters said that the receivers weren't running crisp enough routes, and that may be part of it. The defense played pretty well, given their talent level, making key stops, forcing a fumble and blocking a field goal attempt, but the Raider offense just wasn't able to convert any of that into points. They once again left a lot of yards on the field. While they were good in spurts, they weren't consistent.

I'm afraid I'm going to be writing "The Raiders might have won this game if..." a lot this season. They seem so frustratingly close. All the ingredients, or at least most of the ingredients, are there. Maybe it's the youth on the offensive line. Maybe it's Collins's decision-making. I will say this. The defense held up their end of the bargain tonight, and the offense should apologize to them for failing in their responsibilities.

We pissed this one away.

Cookery Corner

Smita Chandra has kept me well fed for several years now. (Shout out to bitterspice for buying me the cookbook.) I just tried a recipe of hers and it knocked me out, so I thought I'd share.

Chicken With Herbs and Yogurt (Sindhi Murgh)

What you need:

2 pounds of chicken drumsticks or thighs, skinned
2 medium onions
1/2-inch piece of fresh ginger
2 large cloves of garlic
1 green chili (optional) (I like it like this)
1 cup fresh coriander leaves and tender upper stems
1/2 cup fresh mint leaves
4 tablespoons plain yogurt
1 teaspoon tamarind paste or 2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin seeds
Salt, to taste
1/2 teaspoon tumeric
1/2 teaspoon garam masala
3 tablespoons of vegetable oil

Instructions: Skin the chicken, wash and pat dry. Make deep gashes in the chicken surface, then set the pieces aside. Chop the onions, ginger, garlic, and chili coarsely. Place them in a food processor or blender along with the coriander and mint leaves. Blend smooth, adding 1 to 2 tablespoons of water if needed. Transfer to a bowl and mix in the yogurt, tamarind, cumin, salt, tumeric and garam masala. (If you're using lemon juice instead of tamarind, mix the lemon juice in when you're ready to serve.) Rub the paste over the chicken pieces and marinate in a refrigerator for 2 to 3 hours.

Scrape the marinade off when you're ready to cook. Reserve the marinade. Warm the oil in a large skillet over medium heat then brown the chicken for five minutes on each side. Reduce the heat to low and toss the chicken with the reserved marinade. Cover and cook for 25 minutes or until the chicken is tender. Serve hot.

If you want more recipes, buy the book.

A Little Business

We've got two more additions to the blogroll today. (Oh, my, I've got the vapors! I swoon!) There's Life on the Wicked Stage, a blog about the Wayside Theater in Virginia, Tablet PCs, and miscellany. And there's Fred the Blog. Check 'em out, or I'll clamp your eyes open and make you watch Five the Hard Way.

Jon Mikl Thor is Back and...there's nothing you can do about it!

Word from the Onion AV Club is that, after eighteen years, we'll finally get the sequel to Rock n' Roll Nightmare starring the brilliant Jon Mikl Thor (here's hoping he hasn't porked out). You can check out a hilarious clip of the original here. See how Thor expertly convinces us that the satanic starfishes actually adhere to his taut, tan, muffiny chest. This is his true medium. He's a master.

UPDATE (SLIGHTLY LATER): Actually, it appears that Thor has been hitting the twinkies pretty hard these last eighteen years, so we'll amend the hope. Here's hoping he doesn't appear in a leather loincloth. The black is very slimming.

When Fetish Picnics Go Bad

They're Remaking The Omen

Trolling through IMDB today I found that the geniuses at 20th Century Fox are doing another version of The Omen. Some of y'all might remember the 1976 version with Gregory Peck, Lee Remick, the incomparable Billie Whitelaw, and the usually-dead-by-the-end-of-the-film David Warner. It's a pretty good high concept premise. Logline: a wealthy ambassador discovers, after several people around him die in bizarre accidents, that his adopted son may be the antichrist. I'd commission a treatment if I were a producer. The story turns out to have more holes in it than Bush's National Guard record, but with Peck adding his credibility and director Richard Donner keeping the thing moving briskly, those holes are hard to spot with just one viewing.

Therein lies the problem with remaking this thing.

Not only have most horror fans already seen this movie, but they've seen the two sequels, which were not only bad movies by themselves, but they helped expose the plot problems that Richard Donner had so brilliantly glossed over. Problems like these:

1) It's apparent in Damien: Omen II that Damien's canine origins can be detected with a simple blood test. How was it that such blood tests were never done during the first five years of this kid's life? One of my earliest memories is of some enormous nurse driving a huge spike into my finger and blood gushing forth. Pediatricians are all over you during the first few years of your life. Unless the Thorns were Chrisitan Scientists, Damien would have had many blood tests as a toddler, making concealment of his ancestry impossible.

2) The rules of prophecy seem to be pretty loose in the picture. According to The Bible, the mark of the beast is supposed to appear on the hand or forehead of those who follow the devil. Why does Damien get to keep his beneath his hair, and why, for that matter, does the dead priest have it on his inner thigh? And my impression of the Book of Revelations (which has its own story problems) was that the antichrist only placed the mark on people after his rise to power. How then can people have the mark of the devil as a birthmark before Damien is even born? Are people predestined to be followers of the antichrist? If so, wouldn't the all-knowing God who set this whole thing up get the body parts right?

3) Why would the devil wait until people have spilled the beans about Damien before he kills them? The movie suggests the devil made some attempts at preemptive cover-up--burning the hospital and the maternity wards to destroy all the birth records. (Ancillary plot hole. Wouldn't Robert Thorn, the ambassador to Rome at the time, have heard about the terrible fire that burned down the hospital where his son was born? Why would he need a cab driver to explain it to him five years later?) Why does the devil not simply kill those involved in the birth of the antichrist as soon as is convenient? Surely the devil would have met enough mob guys to learn the old saying "Three can keep a secret if two are dead." Why, indeed, would the devil wait to kill Robert Thorn until Thorn's got his little boy on a church altar with a holy dagger ready? Thorn flew back to England from Rome. Can't the devil, who has engineered all kinds of accidental deaths by now, arrange a simple and easily explained plane crash? Of course, this may be the predestined way that this has to work out, (the photographs foreshadowing the deaths imply it), but the movie never really thinks that possibility through. If the devil has to play by certain rules, wouldn't it be handy if someone in the movie could let us in on what they are?

4) Why does the priest who first hips Robert Thorn to the whole antichrist thing choose an approach that will make him impossible to believe? I know it's hard to approach someone with a message like that without sounding crazy, but most people would at least try.

There are other story problems, but you get my point. Any remake of the movie would probably retain these flaws (unless they're planning to radically restructure the story), while lacking the element of surprise that made the original a hit. The Omen didn't allow us the time to recognize its flaws when we first saw it, but horror fans have had almost thirty years to mull them over. The only way the movie works now is as a means to admire the professionalism of Peck, Remick, Whitelaw, Donner, and composer Jerry Goldsmith, who manage to make the absurd seem frighteningly credible. And because that movie is now on DVD with loads of commentary and extras, what earthly (or unearthly) reason anyone would have for shelling out ten bucks to watch a remake is beyond me.

He's Going To GitMo For this Bit, As We Will For Laughing

From Bill Maher:

Mr. President, this job can't be fun for you any more. There's no more money to spend--you used up all of that. You can't start another war because you used up the army. And now, darn the luck, the rest of your term has become the Bush family nightmare: helping poor people. Listen to your Mom. The cupboard's bare, the credit cards maxed out. No one's speaking to you. Mission accomplished.

Now it's time to do what you've always done best: lose interest and walk away. Like you did with your military service and the oil company and the baseball team. It's time. Time to move on and try the next fantasy job. How about cowboy or space man? Now I know what you're saying: there's so many other things that you as President could involve yourself in. Please don't. I know, I know. There's a lot left to do. There's a war with Venezuela. Eliminating the sales tax on yachts. Turning the space program over to the church. And Social Security to Fannie Mae. Giving embryos the vote.

But, Sir, none of that is going to happen now. Why? Because you govern like Billy Joel drives. You've performed so poorly I'm surprised that you haven't given yourself a medal. You're a catastrophe that walks like a man. Herbert Hoover was a shitty president, but even he never conceded an entire city to rising water and snakes.

On your watch, we've lost almost all of our allies, the surplus, four airliners, two trade centers, a piece of the Pentagon and the City of New Orleans. Maybe you're just not lucky. I'm not saying you don't love this country. I'm just wondering how much worse it could be if you were on the other side.

So, yes, God does speak to you. What he is saying is: 'Take a hint.'

Supreme #2

Bush will be making his next Supreme Court pick, and based on the John Roberts hearings precident I was thinking of all the things we can expect to learn from our newest imperial overlord. (Remember when I said I wouldn't talk about it? I lied.)

1. His favorite movies. (Provided they aren't in current release or among coming attractions. The nominee wouldn't want the actors in upcoming films of similar genre to think he didn't have an open mind.)
2. The sport from which he prefers to draw his metaphors. (I'm thinking we should go for a bumper pool or four-man bobsled guy this time, for diversity's sake.)
3. Whether death is the opposite of life. (Provided that no one is even contemplating suing over that issue.)
4. His opinion on the closely split decision in the first trial of Balboa v. Creed.
5. L.A. or New York. For the last time, which is better? (I hope someone presses the nominee on this one, so that it can be settled as a comic/preppie lifestyle magazine premise once and for all.)
6. That he has, or at least has rented, a highly telegenic brood.
7. That even though everyone George W. Bush has appointed to any position of lasting responsibility has been a ruthless, yet incompetent, zealot; somehow the nominee, a fair-minded fella who's never really given any issue much thought, managed to slip under Karl Rove's radar.
8. That he once took a Democrat out to lunch.

I'm sure we won't want to miss that one. Fire up the TiVo.

Submitted for Your Approval

My friend, actor and bon-vivant Larry Dahlke, now has his own blog, and I'm linking to it. So read it, live it, love it. And if you act now, you can read a special quote from me not available anywhere else on this or any other planet.

To the Moon, Alice!

AP reports that NASA wants to go back to the moon. Why they wish to do this they don't actually say. The story doesn't mention any research that they might want to do, or any permanent infrastructure they might want to try to build. They just want to go again by 2020. Now I know that with George W. Bush selling all of our assets to Halliburton we don't have much left to do anything, NASA has to limit its dreams. Still, the moon again? Why not start thinking about how to construct a better means of moving materials cheaply into space? Now that carbon nanotubes are a reality, we might be able to take a run at building a space elevator. Why not start designing orbital facilities for spacecraft repairs and construction? Why not put the money into more sophisticated robots for exploration of Mars, Europa, Titan, and the asteroid belt?

The trouble with NASA is that it doesn't think about what its real mission is in space exploration, and doesn't think more than one step ahead. There's no plan. (I don't count the Bush-to-Mars thing as a plan. That was a head fake to draw attention away from corpses in Iraq.) Will a President come along to correct this and restore a sense of purpose to the agency? Maybe, but by the time that happens, the Chinese will be waving to us from their massive orbiting spacedock and the E.U. will be sending manned missions to Saturn.

By the way. I won't say anything about the President's speech yesterday or John Roberts's confirmation. They were both empty bits of theater. If you want to see good absurdist comedy, find someone who's putting on Rhinocerous or Waiting For Godot. You'll have a much better time, and you'll probably come away better informed about the state of the world.

Nothing to be done.