"If they object so passionately to “socialized health,” why don’t they block their 911 service to socialized police and fire services, disconnect themselves from socialized sewers and avoid socialized interstate highways?"
I love working and hanging with comedians: not only funny, they're typically super-smart. So, I'm happy to have found, and pass along, "The Comic's Comic" blog, which covers and comments on breaking news in the comedy world. Two of its recent articles were:
When I mentioned the firings to my wife, she responded, "bet it was the big girl" (i.e. Casey).
She nailed it.
Now, as you can see from her prescient, whistling past the graveyard video below, Casey is anything but fat. But whether her appearance had anything to do with anything -- and size-ism toward women is the only prejudice still openly tolerable in America (can you imagine a woman on TV ever out of shape as Chris Farley?) -- it seems like Casey was just unable to cut through the cacophony that is the SNL creative process.
I touched on Ted Kennedy's human fallibility last week in the wake of his death, and suggested that true Christians -- those who don't let their politics get in their way of their "faith" -- would forgive the man in death for his human failings while on Earth.
Well, it turns out the Senator was thinking along those lines, too, by way of a letter to the Pope seeking forgiveness, which was hand-delivered by his President.
Wearing my talk radio hat, I was lucky enough to shake hands with Ted Kennedy a few years ago, just before he got sick. (No pictures, alas.) Digesting the media obituaries regarding the late, great Senior Senator from Massachusetts, I am consistently amazed at the editorial choices which were made while covering the great man's life:
Amidst all the thousands of hours of wasting television "news" coverage of OJ, the Buttafucos, John and Kate and all such similarly inane crap, why did we never know Kennedy was such good friends with Republicans, like Orrin Hatch? All sorts of talking heads know enough to speak glowingly of it, but why wasn't that personal behavior covered over the years decades that our politics have become so polarized? Why couldn't that be role modeling for kids to observe on TV, instead of types like the Gosselins and the Hiltons?
Finally, Joe Scarborough keeps suggesting this one particular 1990 GQ takeout story on Kennedy as being a turning point in his life. Perhaps, but, Joe, was that the only magazine article you've ever read?
And, now, what a wonderful (totally memorized) coda to a great life:
Also, FYI, the picture is scan of the original "The Cutting Edge" bumper sticker, which I've not been able to find elsewhere online and fished out of my desk drawer archives. Unfortunately, the neon orange 88.7 and Edge parts aren't showing up too well, but it's so very early '90's, no?
In a politically divided country, this is all quite tricky and potentially sticky, looking to criminalize the actions of CIA agents when under the management of a bunch of malicious doofuses will only be further divisive.
I still think going the truth and reconciliation commission route would be the best for all concerned. Facing the truth with no political gain on the line -- even if only perceived -- would truly be Change to believe in.
Interesting, but looking up the word "homicide" on the Internets gives every indication that it is a word indigenous to the practice of law, not medicine, let alone forensics. I thought medical examiners determined what killed someone, and that it was up to the legal system to determine who, for instance, put deady chemicals into the body of a the deceased.
I have friends who are prosecutors and judges who I love dearly, but this is a teeny-tiny shift in, if not the legal burden of proof, then the war for public opinion.
3. While watching train-wreck reality shows satisfies the same voyeurism we possess when we slow down to watch a freeway accident, what exactly is it going to take to realize that putting idiot assholes (sometimes, perhaps. 'roided up) in close proximity with attractive, vulnerable women is going to create a serious, likely violent, problem?
Does not anyone remember the "Jenny Jones case" right here in beautiful Oakland County, Michigan? Or Network, for that matter?
Not satisfied with being the NFL owner who (now) looks most like Katherine Hepburn, Jerry Jones pushed beyond all sense of propriety in the realm of sports' proper place in the social order (especially now in the midst of Depression v 2.0) by spending more than a billion dollars on the temple that is the Dallas Cowboys' new stadium.
After a month-plus of doing everything -- or, from another perspective, nothing -- to undermine any reader interest or momentum in my little page here (though I was able to keep up a bit on my Twitter page), I am now able to man up and (sort of) explain WTF happened in the following fashion:
If a blog crashes and burns on The Internets (however temporarily), does it make a sound? Turn Catholic? Shit in the woods (or the water)?
No, the blogger in question instead recognizes that the new prescription medicine one was given to brighten one's mood instead quickly and unexpectedly darkened it dramatically, while also promptly rendering said blogger's ability to do anything work- or writing-related non-existent (other than the decidedly non-profit Twittering). Personal and professional sturmunddrangund embarrassment and anxiety ensued, and after discontinuing said medication (and doing some research and proceeding more naturally), a new day has emerged, mitigation of the fallout has commenced, and it will continue.
One of the most notorious (and entertaining) moments in Detroit Tigers history, and, especially, the Chicago White Sox, was Disco Demolition Night, at old Comiskey Field on July 12, 1979. Legendary Detroit and Chicago radio guy Steve Dahl was behind it, and reminisces on the eve of its 30th anniversary:
And Keith Olbermann took a look back on the 25th Anniversary:
The bottom line is that the Tigers won the nightcap, the last forfeit in American League history.
The Today Show's opening this morning teased a piece about "the topless model hosting Michelle Obama around Italy," as if the two are BFFs. And then, at 7:49 -- after holding the perverted voyeuristic interested audience for all four quarter-hours -- they finally got around to the piece.
The host for the current G8 summit is Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi who, for a number of reasons ranging from pathetic to entertaining, is in the midst of a divorce. So, he needed a hostess for all the wives, or as our U.K. friends call them, WAGs, and picked former Italian showgirl Mara Carfagna, who he appointed to be the country's equal opportunities minister, to show the WAGs around.
Happy IndependenceDominion Canada Day to all my northern (and a very teeny group of southern) neighbors and relatives. YouTube suggested the following video and, while I don't want to encourage them, it's timely.
For every English band that successfully crosses over to the States, there's at least one that never makes the jump across the pond. I never understood Cliff Richard, Robbie Williams is still wondering what happened, and pre-packaged boy band McFly nicked a Michael J. Fox movie character for its name, and gives us our Jacko cover tribute for the day:
Of course, I'd already gotten two text jokes by that posting:
The first: "After Farrah Fawcett died, she went to Heaven, and upon arriving was asked what was her one wish for those she left behind on Earth. She replied, "Keep the children safe." Then Michael Jackson died."
The second: "What were Michael Jackson's final words? "Take me to Children's Hospital.'"
Now, before anyone gets all bent out of shape, this is a natural human reaction called "gallows humor." And whatever Jacko's many adult shortcomings (which too often eclipsed his creative excellence), I, at least, think they stemmed from his being an abused pre-adolescent who was responsible for being his family's meal ticket while working in a ethically dubious business in a morally dubious time.
When you spend your entire life trying to change the face of the "man in the mirror," and you looked like your father, you are trying to forget something bad.
I heartily recommend the British gossip site and newsletter, PopBitch; the weekly newsletter, especially, is entertaining. However, as proof that you don't have to be ignorant of the world to also be snarkily hilarious, this tidbit came out today, which makes me wonder if this is the kind of thing you learn in the foreign service academies:
--- snip ---
>> Diplomatic stinkbomb <<
Ahmadinejad nukes himself in the foot One of the things Iran's President Ahmadinejad is most known for in political and diplomatic circles is his B.O. He has been described to us as smelling "musty" and "like a billy-goat". Our drunk Whitehall source this week gave an interesting take on the West's attitude towards him. The Chinese are said to be appalled by Ahmadinejad's standards of personal hygiene - it offends their cultural norms. And so, despite everything - democracy, freedom 'n all that, Britain and the US don't mind him staying in power. The Chinese are not likely to give political support to somebody so weird/smelly. Which will help delay Iran getting nuclear weapons.