Maclin Horton, Man-Poet

Time to use my massive cultural influence to recommend the poetry of Maclin Horton.

The genre is what I like to call "man poetry." Now I'm not suggesting that chicks can't write good, but to me there's just something about poems that smell of cigars and Aqua Velva and Vitalis. T.S. Eliot, W.B. Yeats, Matthew Arnold, Raymond Carver -- fine man poets all.

Don't get all girly on me and complain about my short list above. Just click on over to Mr. Horton's site and enjoy.

UPDATE: My apologies for a less-than-eloquent endorsement. Honestly, I used to pore over the handwritten notes to the typewritten drafts of The Wasteland, carefully evaluating Ezra Pound's suggestions. But years of pop culture immersion (and travel aboard Cleveland public transit) have left me unable to form sentences. YouknowwhatI'msayindawg? Wordmuthaf**ckin'shitstraightupG.

Many thanks and a big wet insta-kiss to Glenn Reynolds, the Guardian's voice of America and fellow hospital blogger, for the link.

Behind the Laught...um...Polite Chuckles

Word on Drudge this morning is that ABC EXECS FORCE ROBIN WILLAMS TO CUT OSCAR SKIT. It doesn't go into the details of how violently Mr. Williams resisted or what measure of force the ABC execs employed ... maybe a painful back waxing.

I'd always heard the thing about comedy was timing -- and yet, according to Drudge, this is Williams' late, late entry into the Dobson v. Spongebob flap (chronicled here).

Williams explains: "For a while you get mad, then you get over it. They're afraid of saying Olive Oyl is anorexic. It tells you about the state of humor."

I agree fully that the state of humor is pretty goddamn sad these days (Exhibit A: Janeane Garafalo, actress/comedienne). Olive Oyl anorexic? Pure ****ing comedy gold. But c'mon ... give Dobson a rest -- it's not like he misspelled "potato" or anything like that.

But seriously, folks: there is an issue worth investigating here. Is it the job of the public schools to teach tolerance? Can any organization just produce a DVD and teachers' guide and slip it into the curriculum? (And aren't you going to bitch about it being a free advertisement for capitalist icons like Barney and Viacom's Nickelodeon characters?)

Does Robin give a flying shazbot what the Williams kids are being taught in their cash-strapped public school? As a parent, I'm kind of curious. Can I at least hear what Dobson has to say? Jeez ... in America you're innocent until proven guilty -- unless the charge is "homophobia" or racism, in which case you're going down.

Here's a witty rejoinder for ya. All-knowing France has banned muslim headscarves in schools. Is that teaching tolerance? "We are family" and all that? I don't know ... I went to public school in the '70s where the other kids played "Smear the Queer" on the back lot.

Comedy isn't pretty. But does it have to be so goddamned smug?

The Kids Are All Right

"Mom, can I have $15 bucks for a T-shirt?"

"I can't believe it. You still complain to this day because we named you 'River,' and now you want an 'I Love Social Security' shirt? Do you like getting beat up at school?"

"But mom, it's from Rock the Vote. All the cool kids will be wearing one. Political activism is so in right now!"

"I don't know. Don't they have any other shirts?"

"Not really. There's a Rock the Vote black thong. Your girlfriend might like it."

"I wish you wouldn't call her that. Judy is my life partner."

"Whatever. I'm calling dad. At least he's still cool."

Hewson, We Have a Problem

Dear Bono:

Let me cut right to it.

I just finished reading your New York Times op-ed, "Ending the Poverty That Breeds Violence." Apparently this is the deal: if America (and Europe) gave more money to Africa, Africa would reach a "breakthrough" of some sort, which would help alleviate world poverty, which breeds terrorism.

You may be right. I don't think so. Crass as it sounds to say it, the 9/11 terrorists had the money for plane tickets. I don't. But, maybe we should give your plan a try.

Thing is, I don't have a lot. We get by. I spent around $4,000 on medical bills last year on top of $3,500 in health insurance. I don't own a car. I've stopped buying CDs and have taken to begging for iTunes bottlecaps here on my weblog. (No $350 U2 special edition iPod here, sorry.) I do give to "charity," so to speak. My wife sent $50 to a girl in rural Alabama we've never met in person. Like my wife, she has lupus and many other health problems yet has taken in two foster children. We sent her a gift card for clothing too ... and certainly not under threat of terrorism. We donated to the tsunami victims too. And to the local poor through the Catholic church downtown. And I'm not even Catholic.

Here's what I think. You and me together. You sing, I play. I could write a song and sell, say, ten copies. You could sing it and sell 50,000, easy. Or just send me a vocal track and I'll mix it. Or I'll send you the backing tracks and you lay a vocal over it. I mean, we could have a bake sale, but I think the song would go over better. People will pay money for ringtones, I hear.

I like U2. (Especially Adam, who plays bass in my dream band, with Johnny Marr on guitar and Mo Tucker on drums). The War album was big in my high school. The "Gloria" video was The Shit. I used to play Boy and October cassettes on road trips to my sister's college. (Complete program on both sides? Thanks, Island!) Am I going to join the U2 fan club so I can have first crack at some shitty seats in a stadium? Um, no.

This is not a publicity stunt. I don't want to be a megastar or anything of the sort. What I do want is exemption of myself and my family from statements like, "We lament - but Secretly indulge - our differences. Points of tension are points of pride. Snottiness is the new patriotism." I hold a couple of degrees in English, but I have no idea what language you're speaking there. I don't get it.

Speaking of misconceptions, I realize this proposal won't reach you. People like me don't get to talk to people like you, so that's it -- you'll have to accept the teensy-tiny check we sent for the tsunami victims as payment in full for now.

Sorry.



P.S. As long as I'm dreaming ... I think it would be a big finacial boost (not to mention a morale boost) for my city if the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremonies could be held here in Cleveland. You know, where the museum actually is? The current setup -- I can pay ten bucks to watch the ceremony on TV at the museum itself -- is a bit of an insult. Could you put in a word? Thanks.

Pathetic

Wow. I'm not making judgements here. I just need to say it: this account of Hunter S. Thompson's suicide is the most pathetic thing I can recall reading, ever.

"It was just like Hunter wanted. He was in control here."

Anita Thompson also echoes the comments that have been made by Hunter Thompson's son and daughter-in-law: That her husband's suicide did not come from the bottom of the well, but was a gesture of strength and ultimate control made as his life was at a high-water mark.

"This is a triumph of his, not a desperate, tragic failure," Anita Thompson said by phone."

I've never purchased a Hunter S. Thompson book, and I'm not buying that line either. But that's just me. My wife would have me revived and then beat me to death for leaving her like that.

Hello?

Why the hell didn't anyone tell me that U.S. music star Lionel Richie received a Mountain Crystal "Symbol of Unity and Diversity" award (aka "the big ass rock o' crack") at a plenary session of the World Economic Forum in Davos on January 28?

Like so many music fans worldwide, I too felt united with all my human brothers and sisters in hating that frigging "Dancing On the Ceiling" video. Did that suck or what?

On Notice

If I don't help the missus clean the house this weekend, I'm out. So updates may be even more infrequent this weekend.

Advice for Jail Bait

A Planned Parenthood Fantasia

Ohio Attorney General Jim Petro
State Office Tower 30 E. Broad Street 17th Floor
Columbus, OH 43215-3428

Dear Mr. Petro:

Hi. My name is Julie and I'm 14. My friends all say I could, like, totally pass for 16 if I put my hair back and could drive and stuff. Anyway, I'm like totally into this guy who's like, well, 22. I mean, he's not old like you are ... he's into, like, mature stuff like Wilco and his job and he has a really hot car. Not like a Camaro hot but not a minivan either. You don't drive a minivan, do you?

Anyway, I was on this site, Teenwire, and they had, like, this really good advice. See, this guy I'm into likes the blowjobs and all, but I thought for our two-month anniversary I'd, like, you know, do it with him? But this site said I should check with you to see if you'd have a problem with that. I mean, it's my body and all and I need you to respect that. What do you do anyway? Are you, like, a cop or something?

Thanks for reading and thanks for treating me like a grownup. You know, you're kinda not totally bad looking for an old guy.

Peace,

Julie
Boardman, Ohio


P.S. Keep Abortion Legal!!!

Now that all that "God" stuff that screwed up the election is out of the way, back to the important stuff: UFOs. I won't be watching Peter Jennings' UFO "news" special tonight, so please write and let me know if he comes up with anything that challenges my current view on alien travel to our planet.

The closest star to our sun is 4.22 light years away. Even if you assume that orbiting that particular star is a planet that houses intelligent life, Joe Alien is going to have to travel 5,865,696,000,000 a year for more than four straight years to get here. (Keep in mind, too, that Joe's going to head in our direction very deliberately, as space travel gives you 360 degrees of travel opportunity.)

In short, to paraphrase Groucho Marx, if Joe Alien is that intelligent that he knows we're here and can make the trip ... why would he bother? To meet Peter Jennings?

Destructive Feedback

Man, am I depressed this week. And there's only one thing that never fails to cheer me up, at least for a little while: electric guitar feedback.

I've posted my very first iMix, and it's called Constructive Feedback (iTunes link). I tried to select tracks that featured some tasty squealing feedback in the actual 30-second clip, but I couldn't leave out "Magic Carpet Ride." There's some mic feedback too, but as a feedback "purist" I avoided EBow-generated sustain and heavily compressed harmonics that may, to the untrained ear, sound like feedback.

Sadly, the iTunes store is still lacking in many areas, so no "Rhinocerous" (Smashing Pumpkins), no "Metal Machine Music" (Lou Reed), no Ultra Vivid Scene, very little Johnny Marr.

Your feedback welcome.

Comedy Translator Needed

I finally watched the DVD of Shaun of the Dead, which was hilarious. Everything I'd read claimed it was hilarious, but the trailer was just so darned ... lame. Zombie walks in ... men jump up off couch and scream. Har har.

But the film itself is great, and won Best Film at the oh-so-important Shockwave NME Awards. (Shockwave is a brand of hair gel, by the way.) Best TV show went to something called "Little Britain."

Now, everything I've read claims that this show is hilarious, but the clips on the Little Britain website are just so darned ... lame.

So, what say you, the better informed? Am I missing out on "Monty Python: The Next Generation?"

Stick It In Your Ear

I'd like to thank all the people who've graciously sent me their unused Pepsi/iTunes codes ... except there aren't any, so screw all of you.

Yes, I put way too much thought into a $0.99 download that isn't going to cost me anything except the gastrointestinal distress that accompanies a 16 oz. Diet Pepsi. Did said band support the Heinz-Kerry campaign or take part in the Rock for Change tour? Did they record a promo for Rock the Vote? Have they received undue and undeserved attention from the U.S. music press? Won on American Idol? Been married to Jennifer Lopez? Been featured on thesmokinggun.com? Rhymed "telephone" with "home alone?"

But none of that matters now, 'cause I'm not paying, and posting my selections here is like not telling anybody. And there are some great choonz to be had, dammit: Franz Ferdinand's "Take Me Out (Naum Gabo Re-Version)," returning the triangle to its rightful place at the front of the mix; "Dub the Mic" (Beastieless Beasties); "Evil" (Interpol); "City of Blinding Lights" (as far as I'll succumb to the annual "No, seriously, the new U2 album is their best in years -- really! hype); Sonic Youth's "Titanium Expose" (though I am trying hard not to simply re-purchase all the cassettes I bought in 1986).

Too expensive at any price: the Grammies' "Across the Universe," which is where you wish you were every time it's played. In space, no one can hear Norah Jones sing.


UPDATE: Yes, that is me in the store doing the "rifle sighting trick" on each bottle to see if I have a winning bottlecap. What up to this point made you think I have any pride left?.

School of Knocked Up

Her name was withheld, so I can't send a proper thank-you to the woman who e-mailed The Corner yesterday about her refusal to buy into the "have the baby or go to college" non-dilemma.

I'd thought about posting something along these lines last month, when Dawn Eden of The Dawn Patrol pointed me to this tired post by an abortionist regarding a "beautiful, smart, articulate" client:

the turmoil she described upon finding herself pregnant cannot be imagined because it went to the core of her own being, her identity. eventually she concluded that abortion was her best choice to maintain her college scholarship, her life goals.

Cue the sound effect of one hand clapping.

I've been to college. I've taught at a college. I have a good friend who dropped out of college (no, not Michael Moore). Half of the English majors I went to college with have had to eat the other half to survive. My wife is still in college, and we're all pretty sure her Ph.D. will, at best, land her a pity interview at the prestigious firm of Jack Squat.

So why is it that, when it comes down to what is literally a life-or-death situation, two to four years at Any Community College trumps all? Where's the counselor who says, "You want to major in history? Girl, you'd be better off having the baby and going on welfare!"

Dawnathon 2005

Dawn Eden of The Dawn Patrol is passing the tip jar. May I suggest you sacrifice a week's worth of something you don't really need -- perhaps your daily copy of The New York Post -- and donate the savings.

Robin Williams Support Group Forming

Is it just me, or does the voice of Robin Williams drive anyone else to excruciating pain and discomfort?

Now I watched Mork and Mindy back in the day, and the missus has the vinyl of Throbbing Python of Love in a cardboard box in the basement. I don't dislike the man. But every time the ad for Robots comes on I want to sue somebody.

But the tearing point was AI. I don't see many movies in the theater anymore, but I was intrigued by the idea of Spielberg "doing" Kubrick. It didn't help that the movie sucked* -- when the holographic Einstein appeared and Robin Williams' voice came out of its mouth ... well, let's just say there are very, very few ways to kill onself in a movie theater if you didn't bring the tools with you.

*Yes, it sucked. They made a big deal out of the point that Haley Joel Osment (the robot) never blinked his eyes on camera. Now, this is a robot so real it can actually love ... but the genius who built it couldn't figure out how to make it blink? Even those little $3 "pocket pets" blink. And for "old-style" robots without feelings, the "old-style robots" sure did display a lot of feelings. And you can't clone someone from hair. And Ministry and the Flesh Fair and ...

Frank Black and the Catholics

Father Bryce Sibley gives an amen as another soul hears the Pixies and sees the light.

Fun iTunes Hack

Just gotta see the latest Ludacris video over and over? Here's a fun tip for Mac OS X users:

First, fire up iTunes 4.7.1 and load up the clip. Then, hit Command-F and search your hard drive for visible and invisible items whose Date Modified is today. Somewhere in there should be a file around 45 megs called QTPluginTemp123456 (or some sequence of six numbers). Drag that bad boy from the Search window to the Desktop and rename it whateverthehellyouwant.mov. Enjoy!

(Video wonks will note that iTunes serves up its clips in the venerable Sorenson 3 codec.)

George Bush: "Villain of the Year," Again

I don't need to tell you the winners of the ultra-mega-influential and internationally renowned NME Awards. Well, if you've been busy, you may have missed that the best British band today is the Libertines and that George W. Bush is "Villain of the Year."

(Keep in mind that last year's recipient of the "Godlike Genius" award was beloved drug casualty Ozzy Ozbourne, who can display the trophy in the spot he'd reserved for a "Father of the Year" trophy.)

The Villain award was quite an upset, actually, and clear favorite Tony Blair was visibly disappointed.

I would have nominated Chris Martin of Coldplay. While Martin has been doting on wife Gwyenth Paltrow and daughter Apple and saving the world by carving antiglobalization slogans into his collection of pianos, evil capitalist record company EMI has suffered "release date slippage" and a 16 percent single-day drop in its share price. The company says it will have to make up the loss through "cost-cutting"; i.e., laying off a few employees with real jobs. All are invited to live with Mariah Carey, whom EMI paid $28 million to stop singing on their behalf.

UPDATE: I'm glad to see Zane Lowe (formerly of XFM and now suckling at the megacorporate teat of the BBC) again win Best DJ. I haven't heard his show in a while, but I loved how he'd leave the mic hot and sing along over his favorite tunes. This is a man who loves music.

Sponge Wrung Dry

JEERS to TV Guide for being the very last to pile on Dr. James "C.R.A.C.K.P.O.T." Dobson, suggesting in its latest "Cheers and Jeers" column that Spongebob Squarepants is pushing a "pro-homosexual agenda," and then tacking on the tired and obligitory "we thought sponges were asexual" punchline.

Not that I look to TV Guide for insight into anything of substance, but if you're going to comment this late in the game, at least get the story straight (no pun intended). Please, read Dr. Dobson's update, and if you have time, check out my earlier take. Spongebob gay? Please. But pitching a sexual identity tolerance pledge to the audience of Clifford? In public school?

Please.

Coming Attractions

SINGLE CHASTE MANIAC
Based on a true story, a respected journalist (Academy Award winner Susan Sarandon) finds her career -- and sanity -- at stake when mysterious occult messages begin to appear in her articles. Shunned by her outraged peers and aided only by her gruff editor (Paul Newman), her pursuit of the truth leads to a petite and chaste copy editor who is not all she seems -- and a mystery stretching back two millennia. Directed by Mike Leigh. Rated PG for graphic violence, pervasive drug use, nudity, and bizarre sexual situations.

The Darkness Before Dawn

The anonymous source doth protest too much, methinks.

An avid reader of many weblogs, including Dawn Eden's Dawn Patrol, I was sorry read today's latest entry. I thought at one time it would be fun to visit Dawn at the mighty New York Post and maybe have a quick tour. Now I'm afraid there are too many dank sub-basements full of Christian bones in that place.

Why should I know any of this? I read Dawn's weblog, with which I don't always agree but which I always respect. What gossip writers call "rabid" others might call conviction, and it's always on display. I'd read the Post online now and then, if only for the celebrity dirt. But now Dawn's part of the celebrity dirt, and the reasons why are just ugly.

Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in ’t?

If you don't know anything about Dawngate, you should click over to Dawn's site and begin there. If you are familiar with Dawngate, perhaps you could answer a question or two.

First, here's my take. Dawn, as copy editor, screwed up by "embellishing" a story, even if "embellishing" here means "clarified by adding facts." I used to write for a paper, and nothing goes straight to the reptilian survival instinct like seeing something in print that wasn't on your computer screen (or TeleVideo terminal in my case). It's an issue of hierarchy here: publisher, editor, writer, God, advertisers, garden slugs, subscribers, amoeba, single-issue buyers, copy editors. The copy editor shall make so attempt to emulate a writer, nor shall she look directly at a writer.

Second, from what I've heard, Dawn apologized, and that should have been the end of it. I'm sorry, I won't do it again, where's tomorrow's copy? Today's Post is tomorrow's fish wrap. But in this case, someone dug the paper out of the trash and insists on waving it around, fish gut stains and all. How is it that a former copy editor makes it onto Page Six, home of truly important people like Paris Hilton?

Here's my single-shooter theory. The Post doesn't need the publicity. I have to believe it's very, very important for the writer of the "embellished" piece, Susan Edelman, to make it clear to, well, somebody, that no embryos were harmed in the making of her article. Nothing died. IVF is beautiful and natural and everyone goes home happy.

Again, the original issue is landfill. Read (partially, at least) and forgotten by the Post-reading public. The copy editor's history. But she's not. Someone leaks some bogus information to Women's Wear Daily, of all places, which apparently is your source for retail fashion news and career updates about copy editors (who, remember, rank below the amoeba). Then the same "rabid" copy editor makes Page Six, as the paper turns the spotlight a writer who said nice things about Dawn and, to paraphrase Pulp Fiction, gets all middle school on his ass. George and Dawn, sitting in a tree...

Look, I'm nobody. I've never met Dawn. I don't even claim to be a Christian. But c'mon. It's pretty obvious that Susan Edelman and crew (1) feel that Dawn, already fired, needs to be punished in public for her transgression, probably to punctuate point (2), which is that Ms. Edelman and crew can't afford, for whatever reason, to have the words "embryos" and "died" within 1,000 miles of her byline. "It wasn't me! It was Dawn! She's crazy! Look at her blog! There's a cross on it, for Christ's sake!"

Still no public comment from Edelman, only slights via surrogates like WWD and Page Six. Meanwhile, The Dawn Patrol is going stong, thanks to its rabid fanbase, you could say.

UPDATE: I just found Karol's very wise take on the situation here. I don't read the Post either, but if anything incorrect was added, print a correction. If it was correct but left out on purpose, well, here we are.

UPDATE 2: In searching the Internet for the original article that caused all the ruckus, I came across this fossil, in which a writer named Susan Edelman takes mean old George H.W. Bush to task over stem cells: "A potential cure for Parkinson's disease could be imminent if the federal government lifted its ban on fetal-tissue research, a leading expert on the disease said Saturday in Tenafly."

I'm a Slithering Reptile!

The rest of the day goes straight downhill from here.

Tune-ami Relief Effort

Downhill Battle's Tune Recycler site seems to be down at the moment, so if you're not going to redeem that Pepsi/iTunes bottlecap, you could do worse than mail the code to

tunes4goons (at) saintkansas (dot) com

I'll do my best to direct your contribution to the neediest and most worthy individuals. Richard X. Heyman, that $0.004 check from your publisher? Yeah, that was me. You're very welcome.

Outed

My best buddy discovered my weblog yesterday, so I'm all self-conscious now. Still, since my name is so generic and my site relatively unpublicized, the only way I can figure that he found it was by sitting home and Googling himself while his girlfriend was at work, and that's just a disturbing image.

I've solicited some movie reviews from him, so check back in about a year or so.

Satan: "Devil's Music" Offensive Term

"Don't look at me -- I don't listen to this crap," Satan declares.

Music fans here in the colonies probably missed The Brits last night, at which Scissor Sisters were apparently recognized as the best band on the planet right now, winning International (not British) Group, International Album, and International Breakthrough.

Um, what? Can I get a witness? Really?

This Is So Gay

Reading Mark Steyn's "Happy Warrior" column in National Review this morning on the train, I had to smirk at his claim that NPR recently referred to him as a "notoriously toxic conservative" (as did the Boston Phoenix, which added "pungent" to "toxic" for good measure.

See, I recently learned from Teaching Tolerance that these are "power words" that result in "miscommunication."

You can educate yourself with Teaching Tolerance's downloadable lesson plans (PDF), where you'll learn about "prejorative terms" like "PC Police" and the more subtle and often overlooked "neutral terms used as a prejorative [emphasis mine]": including gay, liberal, PC, and radical.

Nazi appears in the teacher guide as part of FemiNazi, which is "not likely to be used outside politically far right discourse." I don't know if "far right" is a neutral term here or not; nor does the guide address the extra-chromosome right wing made famous by famed geneticist Al Gore.

I'm a tolerant guy ... um, person ... so don't all you red-state Jesus Freaks and Bible-thumpers raise a fuss, OK? (I think I'm still PC ... those aren't in the curriculum.)

Much Sponge and Fury, Signifying Nothing

Shame on the Rev. James Dobson for feeding the trolls such an easily digestible meal about "Spongebob being gay." As Andy Havens so brilliantly pointed out on the website Church Marketing Sucks, "don't ever, ever, ever get in a fight with a fictional characacter." You can't win. (Really, you should click over and read that instead. Great stuff.)

Still, does Dobson's media fumbling of the issue automatically make the We Are Family Foundation (whose benefactors include tolerance.org aka Teaching Tolerance aka Southern Poverty Law Center) any more right?

[And, Spongebob's sexuality aside, Dobson is correct that "We Are Family" asks fans of "Clifford the Big Red Dog" for a pledge of tolerance of "sexual identity" and links to tolerance.org, which takes the issue much further.]

In case you haven't heard, the crux of the matter is this: WAFF has produced a video of popular kids' TV characters singing Nile Rogers' "We Are Family" and is distributing it to schools. No, it really isn't a big deal after all, despite the website's claim that this project is "an unprecedented music video to promote tolerance and diversity to America's children."

Offended yet? Actually, I am.

WAFF is also naming March 11 "We Are Family" Day and pushing for Congress to do the same:

The We are Family Foundation is spearheading the passage of a resolution in Congress to recognize a National We Are Family Day. We have designated March 11th as the appropriate day as it is the six-month anniversary of the September 11th event. We Are Family Day will be a time to celebrate our common humanity.

Excuse me? The September 11th "event?" Do you mean the "buy two tacos get the third taco free" event at Nacho Stop? No, you're referring to the simultaneous hijacking by Islamic terrorists of commercial flights and the destruction of the World Trade Center and a large chunk of the Pentagon. "Event" my ass ... that was an act of war.

So here's where my brain starts to overheat: of all the possible responses to the terrorist attacks, what mind turns to a '70s disco nugget performed by Sister Sledge and then gets all self-righteous about it?

By now we all know that George W. Bush is both Satan and Hitler and invaded Iraq illegally for his own gain. And I'll believe that sooner than I'll believe that the proper response to 9/11 is to "promote tolerance and diversity to America's children."

To me, it's a bizarre approach along the lines of, "Wake up, it's time for your sleeping pill!" My own children are nothing but tolerance. My white daughter, when the ads for the first X-Men movie were airing ever 90 seconds, asked me who was my favorite X-Man. Her favorite was "the white girl." The white girl? Yeah, Storm. Halle Berry. Admittedly, no one other than Michael Jackson has had more plastic surgery to look like a white woman. But my daughter was looking at the hair and the costume. Wasn't that the dream all along? To judge mutants not by the color of their skin but their choice of costume?

My daughter's very best friend "has brown skin." Her class is made up of a range of races and religions, and from what I've heard, any friction there is arises from bad manners, plain and simple, not intolerance.

So why "We Are Family?" Well, it's Nile Rogers' foundation, and he owns the publishing rights to the song, so that's one hurdle cleared. But why does my daughter have to sit through your stupid video to learn "tolerance"? Why not ship it over to Afghanistan? I hear women are allowed to sing in public there now. Why not hit them up with some disco and spread the message of diversity and common humanity? Then slip the mullahs your tolerance pledge while they're temporarily hypnotized by your friggin' disco ball. Hell, why not introduce your tolerance pledge as a U.N. resolution and see how many countries sign it there?

I can't sign the WAFF tolerance pledge, because I don't believe that "America's diversity is its strength." America's unity is its strength. America's tolerance is a very nice idea that gets people's throats slashed when they open the door. They really were family. And even though tolerance.org claims that "Every Victim Counts," they seem to have trouble finding any Christian victims of intolerance to feature their site. (Please click that one, folks. Pleeeeeeease.)

My children and I have never hurt anyone. You know, it seems that "tolerate" is all America does anymore, but this "tolerance pledge" you want my children to sign is so unnecessary it's offensive. Take your tolerance pledge and shove it up your ass.



UPDATE: These guys should definitely be put on the comp list for "We Are Family" DVDs.

UPDATE 2: I don't know how well the "We Are Family" video will fit in between episodes of this.

Killer Necklace

So the missus brings home ... ugh ... Rolling Stone today. She had to, she explains, because that dreamboat Johnny Depp (he of the Wino Forever tatoo) is on the cover, looking good but wearing a Che Guevara necklace. How gauche.

Bill Moyers: Newsman, Harbinger of Apocalypse, Idiot

If you skipped out of that frog dissection class in high school biology, you really ought to click over to Power Line to see the lads cut apart the equally slimy ravings of Bill Moyers.

I don't know how anyone not sitting in a seat at the Pink Floyd Laser Spectacular comes up with paranoid fantasies like Moyers' latest, in which right-wing religious conservatives join in a conspiracy to fell every tree on the planet to summon the second coming of Christ. It's a bid sad, really, to read Moyers' descent into insanity, until you get to the line/paragraph/citation: "I read all this in the news." At which point you laugh out loud and try to come up with a clever Dan Rather joke that hasn't already been told.

Just say no, kids, when some cranky old man you access to Google, Grist magazine, and some funny looking mushrooms.

* * *

Oops, I almost forgot: Oddly enough, speaking of the end of the world, I was just reading this morning on the train -- not the latest in the Left Behind series, which I've not read -- but about the Long Now Foundation, where people are encouraged to think in terms of millenia. (Forget 1984 and 2001: A Space Odyssey -- I always thought it was cool that the time traveller in H.G. Welles' The Time Machine hit the accelerator and sped ahead to the year 802,701. Now that's progress.)

"No Shit, Sherlock!" Award Nominee

After NARAL's recent lameass stunts and the January 22 anniversary observations of Roe v. Wade, I figured it was time to revisit that historic document and study the text of the decision. Just what is all the fussin' and a feudin' about?

I'm still trying to grasp the subtext of this stunning observation:

"Mental and physical health may be taxed by child care."

Damn, that took how many people in black robes to write? Your health will be taxed. I can't begin to describe the hemorrhaging of brain cells I've suffered raising two children. Am I eligible for damages?

How about this gem: "In other cases ... the additional difficulties and continuing stigma of unwed motherhood may be involved." I suppose that stigma is also why Friends was cancelled and Madonna fled to England. How about the stigma I might feel if people see my parked car with a parking ticket under the wiper? The stigma I feel being a Republican in Cleveland?

You may note that this isn't explicitly a pro-life post -- I'm more concerned here with my right not to be condescended to by the Supreme Court. The more I read Roe v. Wade, the easier it is to understand the fear of this thing being overturned. May the sparks fly in 2005.

Heat Melting Pot; Add Chimp; Blend

My daughter's teacher recently sent home a sheet for me and the missus to fill in. See, in celebrating multiculturalism, the school thought it would be helpful for the children to tell where their parents and grandparents are from.

In short, I know nothing of my geneology. My childhood was a string of funerals for those grandparents who didn't die before I was born. Still, I found my spiritual kin yesterday during a marathon showing of America's Funniest Home Videos, on which a panel of celebrity judges picked the finalists for a $100,000 prize and a trip to Maui.

As Eurocentric and sheltered as I am, I didn't even blink at seeing the WASP-y looking South Carolina mom and dad hug celebrity judge Coolio as yellow balloons rained down on the couple's quadruplets, whose videotaped giggle fit was awarded the grand prize.

Did I mention the audience voted electonically on the finalists, who were selected by Coolio, Martin Mull, Kathy Griffin, and Picabo Street? And that the closest competition was a clip entitled, "Chimpanzee Sniffs Butt?"

That's as multicultural as I can stand to be for one day, thanks.

From Britain With Deathwish

Financially speaking, it doesn't look like this will be the year the family and I return to England for vacation. Besides, the new tourist campaign, as found on www.apologiesaccepted.com, strikes me as a bit off-putting:



The "With Love" part is kind of nice, though.

"Imagine" Sucks, Redux

In case you missed Light On Dark Water's insightful post on John Lennon's "Imagine" and its communist message, click and learn.

Imagine my lack of surprise, then, when, while researching an entirely (I thought) unrelated article, I happened upon one more website reprinting the lyrics to "Imagine." Allegedly concerned with world hunger, the site includes insights from Mark R. Elsis that Ward Churchill would ask to see toned down:

On Tuesday September 11, 2001, another one of the three top sins of the universe occurred. Our species, Homo sapiens, blatantly caused approximately 578 species of the web of life to go extinct.... On September 11, 2001, the final one of the three top sins of the universe occurred. This was the Big Lie of murdering thousands, as a cover for a grab at total world control. The elite few who are the extremely rich and powerful megalomaniacs of the ultimate oligarchy, the illuminati, played wag the dog for their own ultimate geopolitical purpose, the complete domination of the world, or otherwise known as the New World Order globalization.

(At least one member of the Brit boy band Blue had a similar reaction, but blamed September 11 for drawing attention away from unspecified dying elephants rather than starving humans.)

In any case, there's no reason an article that claims "...the inherent greed that is allowing this daily mass murdering of our fellow human beings is based in the roots of capitalism itself" shouldn't end with the complete lyrics of "Imagine."

P.S. Mark, please contact the capitalist dogs at BMI, Lennon's music publisher, to arrange payment of the licensing fee to reprint the lyrics. All you need is love and a valid credit card.

Do the Evolution

I just signed up with The Truth Laid Bear ecosystem Monday, and in two days I've evolved from flippery fish to crawly amphibian! You can too, if you just follow my simple three-step system. Just send $19.95 to this address...