Saturday, October 31, 2009


One of the best.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

I’ve been plotting out this post in my head for a week or so, working on the graphics, and accumulating links. By coincidence, I have found myself galloping to keep up with the realities that have bolstered my own ideas – life imitating art, truth being stranger than fiction, all that kind of stuff. However, I will lay things out in the order as conceived, in hopes to “infotain.”


The first time I ever saw the Che-style Obama face was on the now-famous wall of the Houston Obama campaign headquarters, which lies between my sister's house and the church. There was the tri-colour paint-by-number graphic which has now become the icon of hopey-changitude, supersized on a large mustard wall. At the time I first saw it, Obama was to me an amusing, sophomoric poseur whose jet-puffed platitudes one could hardly imagine fooling anybody. Heh.

As time passed and the unthinkable became the electable, that stretch of matte
mustard wall and its painted poster art just screamed for some kind of comment. It's taken awhile, but this p
ast week some poor sod just couldn't take it anymore and went a little jiggy with a spray can. It was just a matter of time. With that in mind, I've done a little embroidering of my own on the Icon of The One, with appropriate links and meditations.

in smalltown North Carolina --

THE MESSAGE: black citizens of Kinston are too STUPID to vote for candidates instead of parties

Local voters of Kinston, N.C. decided, by a ballot initiative vote of TWO to ONE, that candidates in certain local elections would not be identified by party affiliation. Nobody complained, nobody rallied the "nay" voters to fight the outcome of vote. But the nannying busybodies of the Obama administration "reached out" from inside the Beltway to tell the voters of Kinston, N.C. that they were not capable of making decisions for themselves.

Though black voters outnumber white ones in Kinston by a ratio of two to one, so the measure for non-partisan candidates could not have passed without the black population's approval, Attorney General Holder and Co. have conjured up some bogus "civil rights" complaint as justification for unilaterally overturning the local referendum result.

Obviously, in the op
inion of the DOJ operatives, black voters in Kinston MUST necessarily see their interests served ONLY by Democrats, and will be unable to identify which candidate will serve their interests unless he or she is identified during the campaign and on the ballot as a Democrat. Without a party affiliation spelled out in black and white (ahem), black voters will be prevented from exercising their right [their DUTY?]to vote [Democrat].

ITEM: in case you've been living in an abandoned hermitage hut on
Skellig Michael and missed it,


with the usual asides for Rush Limbaugh and all conservative talk-radio gabbers

Nobody could have missed the story, as recounted here, or here, or here. All during the 2008 campaign, candidate Obama couldn't contain his obsessing about Sean Hannity, and avoided any direct contact with FOX until the nights of the Republican convention, when he sat down with Bill O'Reilly, and got the ONLY hardball-ish questions he has ever endured. Once he was elected, it was presumed that The One would accept his acceptance, and rise above the opposition criticism which is served up to every elected official.

Bu-u-u-u-t no-o-o-o-o-o -- he's still a little, um, jumpy.

So when the few voices of opposition, or mere probitive curiosity, among the media try to do their job and face off with these powerful agents of mass hopey-changitude who have swept into office, suddenly it has become as important to the new administration to target and stifle its opposition as it is to find and carry out solutions to the grave problems confronting us.

What needs to be said is being said, here, there, and e
verywhere, by Republicans and Democrats alike who see it for the childish sandbox feud that it is. But it is worth pointing out, in the most graphic way, that Mr. Obama is drifting perilously close to his "nattering nabobs of negativism" moment. With his dithering, his puffery, his petulance, and his Janus-faced politicking, Mr. Obama does not need to take on the cartoon persona of Nixon's disgraced (for chump change compared to Charlie Rangel.....) Veep Spiro Agnew.

Mr. Obama, this warning is probably too late, but YOU DO NOT WANT TO GO THERE.


That's the title of a tiresome book by tiresome Resident Senate Comedian
Al Franken, he of Minnesota. But Google any variation of the word "LYING" and the word "OBAMA" and you'll get literally millions of choices, and only a few of the top ones are Birthers and other Moonbats. Some are even disillusioned liberals.

The subjects of the lying are almost too numerous to count:

-- TRANSPARENCY IN GOVERNMENT - legislation posted online
-- AFGHANISTAN - war of necessity, pursuit of the Taliban, Bin Lade
n, Al Qaida
-- HEALTH CARE - single-payer, illegals, abortion, rationing, duty to die
-- CAP AND TRADE - tax hikes, soaring electricity cost
-- GAY RIGHTS - marriage, military
-- EMPLOYMENT (and maximum unemployment)
-- HE'S NOT THE [insert name of radical associate] I KNEW

And the beat goes on.

Over the past two years various people have made the observation that at least some portion of support for Obama as both candidate and president comes from people who support him in spite of his attempts to sound centrist, because the unwhispered secret is that they know he's lying -- it's just something he has to do to get elected and appease certain groups. (Even Jeremiah Wright said so.)

Just to refresh the memory,
John Hinderaker at Powerline probably said it best.

But if there is one drum that the President has beaten incessantly, starting with Inauguration Day, and at every opportunity at home and abroad ever since, in the most degrading and unseemly fashion, it is the fake and fraudulent oil drum of GEORGE BUSH BASH-AND-TRASH.

Unable to stop playing this tune to excuse his every shortcoming, Obama, and his henchmen, pulled out every stop this past week with the most heinous and flagrant falseho
od yet: that over seven years at war, the Bush administration "never asked key questions" about a strategy for Afghanistan. This is a breathtaking and COLOSSAL LIE.

Key questions were asked, and answered, and turned over to BOTH candidates for president in 2008, and then followed up on with the winning team during the transition, at which time the Obama team REQUESTED SILENCE about the findings -- why? so they could claim credit for the strategy, and lie about its source later on? do they plan the lies that far in advance? We'll leave that to speculation.

Weekly Standard
Official Hottie Stephen Hayes is too polite when he calls the Obamanoids "ingrates". Suffice it to say that, on the most important issues facing the nation and the world, they are prepared to LIE, for the most self-sodden reasons. Puke-making.

Obama's reflexive Bush-bashing even spilled over to the First Lady (and I use the term loosely), who wasted no time in projecting her own obliviousness to the plight of military families onto former First Lady Laura Bush -- a move that was not only low-class, low-rent, and profoundly unladylike, it was also a COLOSSAL LIE. [thank you, hollering Cassandra]

ITEM: in a similar vein, artery, or what you will,


I won't speak to this, because others more qualified should have their say. Over at Blackfive, OEF Afghanistan veteran Deebow writes an OPEN LETTER TO THE PRESIDENT. Pithy quote:

Mr. President, deciding to do nothing is still a decision.

I demand, decency demands, Americans who believe in victory demand, and most importantly, the American families with family members in the fight -- who certainly have the most invested and unquestionably the most to lose-- demand that the politics, excuse making and dithering end and that you give the necessary support to the men and women who are bearing the battle and taking the fight to our enemies. I am not asking, I am telling you to listen to those with the knowledge and skills that can turn the tide of this rapidly resurgent enemy we face and to give them the resources they ask for.



The spousal unit and I took a rare outing to farm country and dropped in at the Stratford Shakespeare Festival, as it is once again calling itself, despite the fact that non-'Speare plays in performance still outnumber 'Speareworks considerably. We'd heard good things about this year's Julius Caesar, so that was our play of choice.

[sidebar: Let me take the opportunity say how very much I liked the production, though it was not flawless. I thought Brutus was poorly played, on th
e whole, though he got better as time passed. As Caesar Geraint Wynn Davies built his character in a particular way, not the only way it could be done, but it worked for me. Cassius, Tom Rooney, looked lean, but not especially hungry, kind of dweeby in fact -- but he was fantastic -- excellent, intelligent reading of the role. Ditto Mark Antony (the "fantastic", not the dweeby), sizzling in the hands of Jonathan Goad -- great stuff.

Costumes and sets were unusual, and have met with negative criticism. I'd have
changed a few things, but on the whole I get what the designer was doing and I approve. Amusing sidelight: Caesar's wife, Calphurnia, was played, not memorably, by a lovely black actress, Yanna McIntosh, dressed in mustard yellow and looking for all the world like Michelle Obama. Maybe it meant something -- maybe it was just fun. Couldn't tell ya. But in general, Kudos to everybody.]

I was especially interested in seeing this play because, although JC has never been one of my favourite Shakespeares, I taught it and directed an abridged version with a class of grade 7 & 8 students this past spring, and so went to the theatre with a more developed idea of how I thought it should go than I would otherwise have had.

As I taught the play last spring, quite unintentionally it kept hitting me
on the head with various passages about the dangerously growing hubris of the new conqueror, especially as expressed by the "lean and hungry" Cassius. The parallels to both candidate and now President Obama were eerily obvious. Naturally I was prepared to take my place in the audience at Stratford and have these sentences resonate for me, in a way that I expect few in the audience, and NONE on the stage, were likely to share.

Well, I don't know what the director's intentions or politics may be -- I have to doubt that he is as critical of the Annointed One as I am -- but he did seem to be having some fun with the possible modern parallels of the whole mob/cult effect generated by an arrogant, larger-than-life, too-good-to-be-true, amn't-I-almost-godlike victor assuming the throne of empire.
...And this man
Is now become a god, and Cassius is
A wretched creature and must bend his body...
...Ye gods, it doth amaze me
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world
And bear the palm alone...
Why, man, he doth bestride the world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs, and peep about
To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
...Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!...
Now is it Rome indeed and room enough,
When there is in it but one only man.

Ah, savour it, fellow right-wing crazies! Is't not Obamarama writ large?

Large indeed -- for what did we see when the curtain rose, but a colonnade upstage, with three large banners hung between its sets of columns: red, navy, light blue, and at the bottom in dark blue letters [good Roman capitals, they were] the
name emblazoned, "CAESAR". Now what does that remind us of??!! I couldn't believe it. It could NOT have been accidental. As they say on the blogs, "HEH."

Foolishly I left the theatre without making sure that the graphic on the banner was to be found in my programme, and alas the only version I've been able to find is this one, where the colours are not so obvious and the imperious head is hidden behind the (rather too doughy) face of Brutus as played (rather too stiffly) by Ben Carlson. I shall look further afield to see if I can find it unadorned, but you get the idea. Heh, indeed.

That was to be the triumphant coda to today's post -- but lo! What madness through yonder internet porthole lies? Could it be another Obama flunkie, Rocco Landesman, appointed to "remake" the National Endowment for the Humanities, telling us that the President is "the most powerful writer since Julius Caesar"? Is this dude for real? Does he not know what a (a) stupid, (b) uncomfortable, (c) factually incorrect, and (d) did I mention stupid? remark that is? But there it was, on Drudge, for all the world to see.

Naturally it did not take long for persons of actual intelligence to swoop down and humiliate this fellow, with facts, for starters, and better grammar and more logical thought process for the main course.
Landesman at least has enough of a grasp of the basic humanities to know that what he said -- "powerful writer" -- is not really what he meant, but rather that Obama is the most powerful man who is also a writer since Julius Caesar, if ya know what I'm sayin', blah, blah..... Forget it, dude. You are just wrong in every conceivable way, and the boys at Powerline and The Corner are more than happy to show you how.

And that needlessly specific claim that Mr. Obama is "the first president that actually writes his own books since Teddy Roosevelt"? Pass the salt friend, good chance you are gonna eat this one. Just
check it out, or ask Bill Ayers [via Bluegrass Bulletin].

There was a Caesar -- here comes such another?

And for the love of God and the all the gods, this does NOT constitute a death-wish, a threat, an incitement for Harry Reid and Chris Dodd and Barbara Boxer to stab Barack on the floor of the Senate. Or even at the Theatre of Pompey.




Saturday, October 24, 2009




Don't be fooled. When you go to buy Sarah Palin's Going Rogue at your local book emporium, be sure to pick up the one with the cover photo that says "I'm enjoying the crisp Alaskan breezes", not the one that says "I'm in the political spotlight in my cute red suit."

By gum, they're a clever bunch over at O/R books and The Nation, who have collected some of the Left's finest commentators to bury their hatchets in the former Alaska Governor. Essays by a herd of snorting journo's are bound together for the reader's delectation, including such sterling prose stylists as Naomi Klein, Frank Rich, and Eve Ensler (think we'll get her vagina to crank out a monologue?). Can't wait to hear what they have to say? Then pick up the designer knock-off, the $10 Rolex of political biographies -- it's the one on the LEFT:

You'll know it by its paper cover -- the publishing world's equivalent of "direct-to-video". A scam so cheesy, even National Public Radio thinks it might be ethically challenged.

But if you want the real story, by the only Genuine Star of the '08 political constellation, lean to the RIGHT and get the other one, HARDCOVER, hot off the presses in mid-November.

Don't be fooled by these people who are SO much cleverer than YOU!!!

What does the O/R in
O/R Books stand for? The brand new publishing partnership of Oakes [John, whose clients have included Abbie Hoffman and John Waters] and Robinson [Colin, who previously published Noam Chomsky and Nobel Prize imposter Rigoberta Menchu]. Talk about pedigree, pal!!!

Phew!! That was a close one. It's almost too much for the cradle-to-grave welfare-dependent mind to process, and we all know that's the book-buying demographic both are aiming for, right?

Thursday, October 15, 2009

(and all the rest of us in the GLOBAL COMMUNITY):


Talk-radio guru Rush Limbaugh has been dropped (offered the chance to tastefully withdraw, he refused) from the group bid to buy the St. Louis Rams. This went down for one solitary reason: influential people do not like his opinions.



Well, let's remember that MSNBC smash-mouth commentator Keith Olbermann was inexplicably promoted from being a full-time sportscaster to some sort of political pundit, so on this subject he's finally found something about which he's in a position to offer analysis. (So happy to give him the opportunity to take a breather from such inspired editorializing as imagining newsblogger Michelle Malkin as a "smashed-up bag of meat with lipstick".)

Olbermann, to his credit [!!!!#$%????], can't understand why anyone would want to prevent Limbaugh from owning a piece of St. Louis's loser football team. Whoa!!!

If even Olbie recognizes the rank idiocy of what has transpired, then it's GOTTA be obvious to one and all.

What is less obvious to many, however, is what this kind of incident signifies about how the United States of America has entered the final, accelerated stages of a hideous transmogrification. Will it escape being a giant rotting cockroach by the end of one term of rule by The Cult? Gallup tells us that membership in The Cult is experiencing creeping shrinkage. That's good. Secretary of State Hillary Broadbottom Clinton is now more popular than The Messiah. I guess (gulp) that's good too. Will civilization survive until 2012?


I borrowed that moniker (appl
ied to Race-Shakedown Kingpins Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton) from former NFL linebacker and long-time pastor Ken Hutcherson. Vitally important race/color credentials available here.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009


Oh Canada.


There's a bit of hagiography (holy legend) about the Second Apostle of Rome, St. Philip Neri, which has the ring of historical truth, and the solid gold seal of metaphysical truth.

Here it is, as recounted by the late Fr. Richard John Neuhaus in his journal First Things:
The story is told of St. Philip Neri (1515-1595) that he gave a most unusual penance to a novice who was guilty of spreading malicious gossip.

He told him to take a feather pillow to the top of a church tower on a blustery day and there release all the feathers to the wind. Then he was to come down from the tower, collect all the feathers dispersed over the far countryside, and put them back into the pillow. Of course the poor novice couldn't do it, and that was precisely Philip's point about the great evil of tale bearing.

Slander and calumny have a way of spreading to the four winds and, once released, can never be completely recalled. Even when accusations are firmly nailed as false, the reputations of those falsely accused bear a lingering taint. “Oh yes,” it is vaguely said, “wasn't he once accused of . . . "

The words of the Bard that you learned in grade school are entirely to the point:

Who steals my purse steals trash; ‘tis something, nothing;
‘Twas mine, ‘tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.
A heinous crime against reputation is going on at present in the United States, created by a national media for whom their profession has become an ethics-free zone, with the willing complicity of Democrat politicians and their accomplices in the liberal punditocracy, f'rinstance those public menaces the Race-Shakedown Twins, Sharpton and Jackson.

The crime in question is the slanderous attribution of vicious and repugnant utterances to radio gab-king Rush Limbaugh -- utterances that have been branded "racist" (with good reason), and are being blown around by once-reputable media organs like wildfire through an L.A. county canyon in midsummer, without the merest, slightest, most perfunctory effort to discover whether these things were ever actually said.

Limbaugh categorically denies having said them, and challenges the slanderers to produce a single authentic source for any one of them -- a task that not one slanderer has succeeded in doing, and the furious back-peddling has begun already, though with reservations and without apology or retraction.

Rush Limbaugh is one of the most politically astute voices to command the public ear in America. He is also brash, relentless, occasionally vulgar and sexist, culturally under-educated, and genuinely EDGY (where most on the contemporary arts or discourse scene who claim to be so don't even come close to it). Limbaugh is proof that genuine, Swiftian satire is not yet dead -- though his most vicious and/or hypersensitive critics prove equally that it (satire) may be on its last legs.

One of the areas where Limbaugh can be the most edgy is in matters of race, or more specifically, racial politics. One might sometimes be able to characterize his mode of delivering uncomfortable truths as "offensive" or perhaps, more accurately, "abrasive" -- but I challenge anyone to reveal a single abrasive utterance for which an intelligent person, in the cool light of reasoned debate, could not make some coherent and persuasive arguments. Others might disagree, but even Limbaugh's most outrageous claims ARE basically arguable.

Anyone who claims otherwise, and who attributes to him the kind of mindless bigotry embodied in the controversial
"quotes" now scurrying around on the public winds.... well, you could say a lot of things about such a person, but one thing is for certain: he or she has NEVER been a listener to the Rush Limbaugh program. IMPOSSIBLE. In fact, Limbaugh's harshest critics, on any subject, prove again and again that they could not possibly have listened to his show for more than a sound bite. (Or, I will allow, it's possible that they did listen longer than a bite, but they have demonstrated themselves too blind and stupid to grasp what they heard.)

There are any number of legitimate criticisms one could make about Limbaugh's program and his manner in delivering it -- I've made a few above, and there are more. I'm always surprised at how his most vitriolic critics seem to miss everything that they might genuinely criticize, and then spew with abandon criticisms that are patently false, even as they themselves en
gage in all the crass, hateful, superficial, often cruel ad hominem attacks and dishonesty of which they accuse their target. It's a strange thing -- one which, I'm thinkin', betrays nothing so much as FEAR.

Now, I can picture some sort of academically-inclined leftist phiilosopher/ideologue -- of an intensely serious and humorless and apocalyptically tragic mentality -- cultivating the kind of visceral hatred for Rush Limbaugh which has clearly gripped his opponents in media and politics. But I cannot picture this serious partisan lowering himself to engage in the mindless schoolyard savaging, the casually bald-faced lying, the hysterical bogey-manning that issues from Limbaugh's media enemies day in and day out, to their everlasting humiliation; the non-stop indulgence in the very sins for which they would burn Limbaugh at the stake (or some other form of execution, as cheerily recommended by Chris Matthews and others).

What's going on here is just wrong. And the purpose of it is not simply to discredit Limbaugh's opinions, but to destroy his reputation in order to prevent him, as a private citizen, from pursuing a private business transaction to become part-owner of a sports franchise.

Limbaugh has become very rich doing what he does, and that's probably his biggest sin -- he has enough ready cash to fulfill the ultimate sports fantasy, especially for the fan who was never talented or fit
enough to play himself. How much, one wonders, does rank jealousy of both his money and his sports-dream lie behind this all-out effort to sabotage Limbaugh's bid for the St. Louis Rams?

On such things apparently the world turns, and, like Hitler at the English Channel, this advance must be halted in its tracks. A proud moment for the fifth estate.

St. Philip Neri, Holy Fool, pray for us.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Now, remind me, I live in a big, cold urban wasteland.......why?

Off the ol' front porch:

Toward Placentia Bay:

Old lighthouse, Dodding Head, Great Burin Island

Pickin' partridgeberries:

Home again tomorrow. Yeech.

Friday, October 09, 2009



Mere days ago the kings of the satirical world over at The Onion [read regularly -- die laughing] gave us a short list of the highlights of Barry Obambi's address to the United Nations, among them:

-- Now is a time when we must do something about some problem, perhaps by working with others.

-- If Iran continues to pursue nuclear weapons, then it will have to face blank and blank. Oh shoot, I forgot to fill those in.
Little did they know that, based on these very concepts, that very president would shortly be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. Or is that Piss Prize?, awarded, as it has been so often in recent years, for little more than consistently pissing on the United States whenever a microphone presents itself -- see: Al Gore, Jimmy Carter, Yasser Arafat....

Little did we know that the criteria for Nobel status would evolve into something resembling a grading category on a kindergarten report card ["does not run with scissors" or, dare I say it, "promises hope and change"] -- marked on a Dewey-esque sliding scale of "pass/fail" or "satisfactory/unsatisfactory", of course.

On a more serious note, the folks at PowerLine have put together a nice summary of the history of Nobel Prizes, ancient and modern, which explains how these absurdities just keep happening, and how, in fact, the once-prestigious award has a very long record of being fairly ridiculous. Read and learn.

Instapundit has an excellent round-up of responses, including a devastating poignard from Richard Cohen at the WaPo (who will temporarily be forgiven for making effective use of a slur on Sarah Palin), and some wise words from my friend David Warren (via RealClearPolitics). Even the Huffington Post is rattled by the ridiculousness of it. [No link -- life is too short....] Gateway Pundit offers up that it was Nobel for "the gift of gab" -- fair enough.

Is this just another case of "Trophy Kid" Syndrome? The unfortunately-named Starshine Roshell seems to have more sense than her parents [cripes, boomers, the things you did to your kids -- Starshine???], and wrote a needed complaint about what it means when you give a trophy to just anybody, merely for showing up. Little did she know that six months later.....

IRONY ALERT: Oh, those cut-ups at Saturday Night Live! Little did they know that the Big Prize would soon be awarded to the President they had slam-bammed the week before for having been in office nine months and achieved absolootly nuttin' -- nada -- not so much.


Remember that campaign promise? Well, I'm betting it will come true -- later rather than sooner, and in a backwards fashion. I'm betting that ordinary pale Americans ["white" is ridiculous, and "Caucasian" is exclusionary and inaccurate] are going to get so fed up at being called racists for voicing opinions and ideas that have nothing whatever to do with racial considerations, they are going to start barking back or just ignoring the Amen-corners of the Racial Grievance Industry, and eventually silence them all by diminution and irrelevance. It has begun already.

What's terribly sad, though, is that the road to racial harmony has been carpet-bombed in the few months since the ascendacy of The First Black President and Harbinger of Racial Harmony, due entirely to the redoubled efforts of the racial grievance industry, who can think of no other defense of their stumbling standard-bearer as he fraks up his foray into global politics. Check out this sad survey on the question of whether America is or isn't a basically fair and decent society. That opinion among the country's major minority group has turned on a dime [perhaps one of the few remaining in the national purse, Mr. Geithner?] is itself utterly indecent.


That snippet of Biblical text is often misinterpreted by those who were deprived of learning their King James English: "Suffer the little children come unto to me" means, in today's lingo, "Let the children approach me." The words carry no meaning related to the endurance of physical pain.

Sadly, the two interpretations (correct and not) are increasingly, perversely, fused as we observe in the culture the acclerating normalization of "intergenerational sex". The most recent, most heinous development is the downright weirdsmobile support for convicted child-rapist Roman Polanski, found overwhelmingly among the European (largely the Fwench) "arts community", but leaking frighteningly over into the upper echelons of Hollyweird.

The Polanski affair, however, remains at the fringes of society by virtue (ahem) of having sprouted from the weedy world of entertainment, where no one expects to find normality, whether it is in matters of serial marriage, drug habits, or obscene amounts of money being invested in really really bad taste, from horrible fashions to obese mansions full of kitsch furnishings.

Far more disturbing is the introduction of skewed morality into the politics and education that are supposed to serve the rest of us -- the normal people in nice little homes in ordinary neighbourhoods around the corner from the barber shop. In the United States this skewed crew has come to rest in the nest of Czars -- Presidential appointments to positions of advisory authority and policy influence, appointments requiring no public vetting or representative approval process.

Various czars have been outed as having troublesome records, the most extreme of examples of which have recently crashed -- Van Jones, "Green Jobs Czar", was revealed to be a self-described Communist (bad) and, by any definition, an anti-white racist (way badder). But a President, who is proving himself to be as GREEN as a man can be at his own new JOB, was a long-time admirer and couldn't wait to get Jones on his team.

More disturbing is the presence of Kevin Jennings in a Czar-ship where his capacity to do horrific damage is far greater than Jones's boondoggle. Jennings, by some bizzarro twist of circumstances, ended up being "Safe Schools Czar" -- this despite his being a gay activist whose work and publications all revolve around one aspect or another of being gay in school.

The crowning finial seems to be his intro blurb for a book called
Queering Elementary Education [no, I'm not making that up]. Apparently in that Foreword, Jennings totally (and revealingly) steps in it, by expressing some brand of endorsement for a certain Harry Hay, who has an unsavoury connection with the notorious NAMBLA -- the North American Man-Boy Love Association. Learn all you need (and perhaps more than you care) to know about that group from a new book, The Last Undercover [profiled here at Big Hollywood], about the FBI's exposure of its repugnant operations, by intrepid agent Bob Hamer. It's one thing to sacrifice your life for your country -- another to sacrifice the inner sanctity of your own mind, which this poor man probably had to do in order to achieve his aims.

Big Hollywood, obviously a significant source of reflection on the Polanski affair, and thus on larger issues regarding mainstreaming of pedophilia, also offers an interesting piece by a gay conservative who was himself a "Lolito", as he calls it. It won't be agreeable to every reader, but is also food for thought, especially about what happens to the Tolerance Police when fascism becomes fashionable.

John Nolte at Big Hollywood weighs in with a rather chilling piece on Hollywood's pedophilia-mainstreaming agenda. I weigh in on page 4 of his comments, citing a terrific 1997 article by Norman Podhoretz -- Lolita, My Mother-in-Law, the Marquis de Sade, and Larry Flynt -- about how Nabokov's Lolita made pedophilia "thinkable", for which reason Podhoretz, who once made a career of debating against censorship of any kind, came to the reluctant conclusion that Lolita should never be read, and never even have been written. Food for thought, from Commentary -- for purchase, but worth it.

October 9 -- 69th would-be birthday of the composer of Imagine. Imagine all the people living for today. How perfect. How ee-e-e-e-e-w-w-w.

Imagine the vast expensive estate in the British countryside. Imagine the custom-made white grand piano in the gigantic mansion sitting-room with the garden view. "Imagine all the people sharing all the world" (except maybe that giant estate and its sitting room: "Zer vuss rhoom for seven families in ziss house..." -- Dr. Zhivago)

"Imagine no possessions," like the custom-painted Rolls Royce.

Imagine -- the speedo version, but you get the gist...

Wednesday, October 07, 2009


It's always nice to have an excuse for neglecting the blog, the present one being that I had an urgent mission in Newfoundland: to sleep until whenever, rising only to soak in Dead Sea salts in my old footed tub, then maybe take a drive to Walmart, more to take in the scenery than to buy anything, closing the day with an arduous trip through an episode of Battlestar Gallactica...

Fog has its uses.

Is it any wonder I can't make myself sit down and digest the implications of the Afghano-Obama-ditherama? I read, I listen, I shudder, I look out the window and think better thoughts.


Newfoundland experienced a "Wreckhouse wind." I looked this up. Wreckhouse is an area in the southwest of the island, that gets wind blasting off the ocean, funneled down a series of narrow valleys only to burst out onto the plain simultaneously, creating a massive pressure change and some sort of effect that can cross the whole province. You figure it out -- it's all right here. Enjoy the part about it blowing the narrow-gauge railway trains off the track -- Newfoundland central planning strikes again. All resemblances to Canadian Human Rights Commissions or American congress in session is strictly coincidental.

Friday, October 02, 2009

Gateway Pundit
gives it short and quick:


Drudge was less kind:


Chi-town OUT in Round One for the 2016 Olympics, notwithstanding the epic "sacrifices" of Michelle, Barry, and the Really Big "O" [Oprah].

There are lots of reasons to be against a Chicago Olympics.
--Time to give them to some region that has never hosted (Rio)
--Best to let Tokyo have them before their population is too old to field a single team
--Chicago is beset by so many versions of urban nightmare that no Olympics bid could avoid screwing the poor, enriching the Machine, and endangering the visitors

Sticking it to a breathtakingly narcissistic career-Chicagoan now occupying the White House and screwing the poor, the middle class, and the wealthy of America is way down the list of reasons.

Is this a schadenfreude-free zone? Mmmm, it is hard to resist just a tiny little BWA-HA-HA-HA.

Me? I'm pulling for Madrid.


Footnote [and, pathetically, that's all it is]: Apparently the President did take time out from his Shilling-for-Daley-ville tour to spend 25 minutes with General McChrystal while Air Force One was warming up -- their second conversation since the General was appointed more than two months ago. Afghani-where? Oh, you mean that place where we keep encountering "man-made disasters" from the TAH-LEE-BAHN?....

How's that Hope'n'Change working out for ya? for all of us?

Thursday, October 01, 2009


I've never seen a Quentin Tarantino movie --

Frederic Raphael at Commentary has a review. I read the first couple of paragraphs and was unsure where he was going with it -- there were indications that he has seen Taratino's other films, as well as various compliments to the artistry. Then, fearing that there might be spoilers in the review, I scrolled to the bottom line to see if he recommended it:

As Harvey Weinstein would surely say, when a job is also a hit, what can possibly be wrong with it, unless you’re some kind of a pussyfooting elitist loser? Inglourious Basterds has to be great because, if the boffo box-office figures are true, people love it. It’s therefore undemocratic to go calling it the antihuman dirty dream of a pretentious, vacuous clown primed with Hollywood gelt to do the Jews a favor by showing that they too, given the chance, coulda/woulda behaved like mindless monsters. What does it matter, after all this time, if the world gets sold the idea that what Shoshanna and the Basterds did to the Nazis was exactly what the Jews would have done to the Germans if Harvey had been around to greenlight the project?

Going to Inglourious Basterds reminded me of Lina Wertmüller’s Seven Beauties, in which a concentration-camp inmate commits liberating suicide by leaping into a lake of sewage. Tarantino makes an even bigger splash by getting us all to pay to jump into an ocean of his own effluent from which he and Harv alone emerge, with $$ carved in their foreheads.

I'm guessing.....not?

Why am I not surprised? I've always had this sense that Tarantino, kind of like Cronenberg, is a man with many innate talents who has volunteered them to be enslaved to a set of truly base appetites. Won't be rushing out to Blockbuster for his oeuvre any time soon.


I've been ducking any survey of the News o' the World in recent days, since it's all so very chilling, and the
Reader of the Free World so increasingly, ludicrously incompetent at coping with it.

For a dose of major league reality, Michael Yon contributes to the Washington Times this morning. Return in kind by contributing to him, and he'll keep on delivering the straight story, from deep within the belly of the major beasts.

And then there's
the hub of representative democracy, where the Democrat[ic?] Party is fixing to use legislative sleight-of-hand to ram through a massive health care bill as an amendment to an unrelated codicil to their earlier economic disastrathon. It's not that difficult to understand, but the Heritage Foundation does a good job of breaking it down. America, get ready to kiss your ass [your liberty, your economic security, your children's future] G'BYE!