NOW ISS ZE TIME AT SCHPROCKETS
VEN VE LAFF
AND LATER IN THE DAY,
WE THINK,
WE PRAY,
WE GIVE THANKS.
WE START AGAIN.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
KATIE COURIC,
MODEL OF MODERN JOURNALISM,
MODERN THINKING,
MODERN WOMANHOOD
[pause for effect]
TOTAL AIRHEAD
My personal favourite: "Books have been written, documentaries have been made,...there are some things that seem to suggest...that there was some doubt..."
Passive voice alert [responsibility for what has been stated can be said to have been avoided on the part of the person deemed to have been speaking]: "some things seem to suggest" -- ah, nothing like modern journalism for specificity, accuracy, directness, and courage.
Nice try, Katie. Condi schools her, in every conceivable way.
Condi: perceptive, persuasive, pertinacious, perspicacious, pertinent, and occasionally pert
Katie: perky. toothy. bespectacled [nice try].
Also arrogant, irrelevant, ignorant, inarticulate, forgettable.
MODEL OF MODERN JOURNALISM,
MODERN THINKING,
MODERN WOMANHOOD
[pause for effect]
TOTAL AIRHEAD
My personal favourite: "Books have been written, documentaries have been made,...there are some things that seem to suggest...that there was some doubt..."
Passive voice alert [responsibility for what has been stated can be said to have been avoided on the part of the person deemed to have been speaking]: "some things seem to suggest" -- ah, nothing like modern journalism for specificity, accuracy, directness, and courage.
Nice try, Katie. Condi schools her, in every conceivable way.
Condi: perceptive, persuasive, pertinacious, perspicacious, pertinent, and occasionally pert
Katie: perky. toothy. bespectacled [nice try].
Also arrogant, irrelevant, ignorant, inarticulate, forgettable.
Monday, December 13, 2010
RUMORS OF HIS DEATH HAVE BEEN
POORLY EXAGGERATED
Even as President George W. Bush's reputation is on a rocket ride to rehabilitation, the "History" Channel is running the 2006 "mockumentary"-- or rather, Euro-Hollywood-leftist sick fantasy snuff film -- Death of A President. (no link provided -- find this crap on your own time)
When this piece of drivel was produced in 2006 and garnered the Big Prize at the Toronto International Film Festival, I had tried, unsuccessfully, to get in for a Festival screening, standing in a block-long line with some of the most obnoxious people I'd ever had to listen to while trying to mind my own business and read a book. The film was so controversial that showings and admissions were very limited, and it was cloaked under the code-name D.O.A.P. in all advertising materials. (The story of my failed attempt is recounted here.)
Tonight, when I would have been much better off sleeping, I came into the movie just moments before the pretend assassination. In spite of all the sensational reports at the time of its Festival showing, I was still unprepared for the dominance of actual documentary film footage of the real persons whose lives were being embroidered upon and re-written in this sinister and malicious fantasy. I find it astounding that this footage was made available, even by liberal news organizations, for such a disreputable project.
I don't intend to finish watching it -- half an hour is sufficient to catch the drift -- but it's also surprising that the target of the film seems to be not so much Bush himself, but rather the once-popular (now demonstrably silly) left-wing nightmares about the long reach of the Patriot Act.
The film-maker fantasizes not only the most wild extremes to which the new Evil President Cheney would stretch the act after the assassination, but even the routine jack-booted outrages already being committed when Bush was still in charge.
By the way, The Evil Cheney -- I mean the real guy -- plays a major role in the film (with words and names being put into his mouth by tape-splicing tricks). Betcha anything nobody asked his permission, or gave a flying fig-newton about any right he might have to control the use of his own image -- like, say, NFL players have when they appear for a few seconds in the background of a Russ Feingold political ad. Bottom line on the movie, though, is that the Patriot Act is the real star/villain of the piece.
The pay-off, of course, is that an innocent Syrian is railroaded and convicted under the Evil Cheney regime with its desire to see international terrorist conspiracy under every bed. Then when they figure out that the likely assassin is actually (wait for it!) a distraught Gulf War veteran whose son had been killed in Iraq, they drag their feet and leave the Syrian on death row -- because, hey, the Syrian had gone to summer camp in Afghanistan, and anyway the Gulf War veteran killed himself, so what's the hurry?
Ironically (wait for it!) the veteran's other son, another Iraq veteran, was detained and held briefly as the initial suspect in the Bush assassination, just because he was in the area, having participated in an anti-war protest.
ISN'T THAT AMAZING?!!
Snore.
At the time of the film's release, then-President Bush did not respond publicly. He is currently having the last laugh, enjoying the fruits of a dignified retirement and a successful book. Neener neener neener, snuff-masters.
Woops! Movie's over. The "History" Channel has now moved on to the secret plan of Washington D.C. as a series of Masonic symbols.
No, really?
Snore.
POORLY EXAGGERATED
Even as President George W. Bush's reputation is on a rocket ride to rehabilitation, the "History" Channel is running the 2006 "mockumentary"-- or rather, Euro-Hollywood-leftist sick fantasy snuff film -- Death of A President. (no link provided -- find this crap on your own time)
When this piece of drivel was produced in 2006 and garnered the Big Prize at the Toronto International Film Festival, I had tried, unsuccessfully, to get in for a Festival screening, standing in a block-long line with some of the most obnoxious people I'd ever had to listen to while trying to mind my own business and read a book. The film was so controversial that showings and admissions were very limited, and it was cloaked under the code-name D.O.A.P. in all advertising materials. (The story of my failed attempt is recounted here.)
Tonight, when I would have been much better off sleeping, I came into the movie just moments before the pretend assassination. In spite of all the sensational reports at the time of its Festival showing, I was still unprepared for the dominance of actual documentary film footage of the real persons whose lives were being embroidered upon and re-written in this sinister and malicious fantasy. I find it astounding that this footage was made available, even by liberal news organizations, for such a disreputable project.
I don't intend to finish watching it -- half an hour is sufficient to catch the drift -- but it's also surprising that the target of the film seems to be not so much Bush himself, but rather the once-popular (now demonstrably silly) left-wing nightmares about the long reach of the Patriot Act.
The film-maker fantasizes not only the most wild extremes to which the new Evil President Cheney would stretch the act after the assassination, but even the routine jack-booted outrages already being committed when Bush was still in charge.
By the way, The Evil Cheney -- I mean the real guy -- plays a major role in the film (with words and names being put into his mouth by tape-splicing tricks). Betcha anything nobody asked his permission, or gave a flying fig-newton about any right he might have to control the use of his own image -- like, say, NFL players have when they appear for a few seconds in the background of a Russ Feingold political ad. Bottom line on the movie, though, is that the Patriot Act is the real star/villain of the piece.
The pay-off, of course, is that an innocent Syrian is railroaded and convicted under the Evil Cheney regime with its desire to see international terrorist conspiracy under every bed. Then when they figure out that the likely assassin is actually (wait for it!) a distraught Gulf War veteran whose son had been killed in Iraq, they drag their feet and leave the Syrian on death row -- because, hey, the Syrian had gone to summer camp in Afghanistan, and anyway the Gulf War veteran killed himself, so what's the hurry?
Ironically (wait for it!) the veteran's other son, another Iraq veteran, was detained and held briefly as the initial suspect in the Bush assassination, just because he was in the area, having participated in an anti-war protest.
ISN'T THAT AMAZING?!!
Snore.
At the time of the film's release, then-President Bush did not respond publicly. He is currently having the last laugh, enjoying the fruits of a dignified retirement and a successful book. Neener neener neener, snuff-masters.
Woops! Movie's over. The "History" Channel has now moved on to the secret plan of Washington D.C. as a series of Masonic symbols.
No, really?
Snore.
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
BEST. CHRISTMAS. TREE. STAND. EVER.
Having been through about four tree stands in as many years, with last year marking the first time in my decades of Christmas tree raisings that the entire tree, fully decorated, went over onto the floor, I decided to make one more stab at buying a stand, willing to spend serious money, to relieve myself of a history of headaches.
So I bought one of these:
Ah, what a breeze! Easy to attach, easy to raise, easy to secure and to move around. Love it. It's "Santa's Solution Steel Arm Stand" and it's yours from Canadian Tire. 25 clams. (Neener neener, Amercanos.)
The Festive Season is upon us -- time to gather with friends, examine the interior moral landscape, give thanks for all good things, and celebrate the birth of [BLEEP].
Welcome to Ryerson University, pride of the Canadian post-secondary system, where, in order to show respect to the diversity of cultures and beliefs on the campus, the word "Christmas" and any acknowledgment thereof are to be publicly banned.
Because showing respect for anything Christian would be....disrespectful. Got it?
Anyway, those of us who feel free to celebrate the birth of
have a hard time wrapping our brains around the thousand natural shocks and zillion little uglies of the real world, amid this season of joy.
But something, I suppose, must be said....
OH WHAT SHALL WE DO
WITH THING ONE AND THING TWO?
They set out to screw both with me and with you.
I'm feeling so awkward," moaned PFC Brad.
The Army has no right to make me feel sad.
I've no choice but to do something badder than bad.
How else to resolve my old issues with Dad?"
And so we begin this deplorable saga --
Brad downloads our lives on a disc labelled "Gaga".
And far, far away, in the smug land of Wiki,
Our Bradley and Julian meet for a quickie.
Young Brad takes a document dump, like a traitor;
Assange takes a leak, with more crap to come later.
Now poseur Assange claims that he is our savior --
So what if folks die from his loose-lipped behavior?
And what a surprise! This good citizen spright
Is withholding some stuff till the time is just right.
He's under arrest for some sexual freakies
Which give a new meaning to the word "Wikileakies".
If he isn't set free, runs his nastiest threat,
He'll release information, the worst we've seen yet.
Such a deep devotee of political purity,
He'll sit on the goods to ensure his security.
Whatever foul consequence may come to pass,
Young Julian's first cause is saving his ass.
Meanwhile back in Quantico, PFC Manning
Considers what sort of defense he is planning.
This fey little Benedict Arnold in khaki
Gets used to surroundings all hopelessly tacky.
Keep fluffing the pillows and moving the chair;
Decide if the pencil should go here or there.
The decor is by far the least of your fears --
For these are your digs for the next 50 years.
And what lies ahead for Assange we can't guess
When our own DOJ is a hell of a mess.
By any assessment Assange is a spy,
A global assassin who spits in the eye
Of each humble earthling from Darby to Joan
Whose lives are expendable, seen from his throne.
If he should escape from a life in the clink,
Will he bother to visit his "Sancho", ya think?
Brad Manning's a "hero" according to Jules,
But I betcha he's just one of Julian's fools.
He'll grow old and gray in a Leavenworth cell
While Mr. Assange keeps right on raising hell.
Oh what shall we do with Thing One and Thing Two,
So determined to screw both with me and with you?
We must throw the book at them, the Big Book of Laws,
And give the next venomous leaker some pause
Before he or she lays the world's workings bare
And endangers all people, with nary a care.
Slam the door, turn the lock, throw the key down the well,
And tell all such traitors to go straight to Hell,
Where demons with pokers and breath like a fart
And sulphurous smoke-pots that sting like a dart
Will twirl the entrails and munch on the heart
Of posturing slimebags who think they're so smart.
Amen.
Amen and Merry Christmas.
Having been through about four tree stands in as many years, with last year marking the first time in my decades of Christmas tree raisings that the entire tree, fully decorated, went over onto the floor, I decided to make one more stab at buying a stand, willing to spend serious money, to relieve myself of a history of headaches.
So I bought one of these:
Ah, what a breeze! Easy to attach, easy to raise, easy to secure and to move around. Love it. It's "Santa's Solution Steel Arm Stand" and it's yours from Canadian Tire. 25 clams. (Neener neener, Amercanos.)
The Festive Season is upon us -- time to gather with friends, examine the interior moral landscape, give thanks for all good things, and celebrate the birth of [BLEEP].
Welcome to Ryerson University, pride of the Canadian post-secondary system, where, in order to show respect to the diversity of cultures and beliefs on the campus, the word "Christmas" and any acknowledgment thereof are to be publicly banned.
Because showing respect for anything Christian would be....disrespectful. Got it?
Anyway, those of us who feel free to celebrate the birth of
have a hard time wrapping our brains around the thousand natural shocks and zillion little uglies of the real world, amid this season of joy.
But something, I suppose, must be said....
OH WHAT SHALL WE DO
WITH THING ONE AND THING TWO?
They set out to screw both with me and with you.
I'm feeling so awkward," moaned PFC Brad.
The Army has no right to make me feel sad.
I've no choice but to do something badder than bad.
How else to resolve my old issues with Dad?"
And so we begin this deplorable saga --
Brad downloads our lives on a disc labelled "Gaga".
And far, far away, in the smug land of Wiki,
Our Bradley and Julian meet for a quickie.
Young Brad takes a document dump, like a traitor;
Assange takes a leak, with more crap to come later.
Now poseur Assange claims that he is our savior --
So what if folks die from his loose-lipped behavior?
And what a surprise! This good citizen spright
Is withholding some stuff till the time is just right.
He's under arrest for some sexual freakies
Which give a new meaning to the word "Wikileakies".
If he isn't set free, runs his nastiest threat,
He'll release information, the worst we've seen yet.
Such a deep devotee of political purity,
He'll sit on the goods to ensure his security.
Whatever foul consequence may come to pass,
Young Julian's first cause is saving his ass.
Meanwhile back in Quantico, PFC Manning
Considers what sort of defense he is planning.
This fey little Benedict Arnold in khaki
Gets used to surroundings all hopelessly tacky.
Keep fluffing the pillows and moving the chair;
Decide if the pencil should go here or there.
The decor is by far the least of your fears --
For these are your digs for the next 50 years.
And what lies ahead for Assange we can't guess
When our own DOJ is a hell of a mess.
By any assessment Assange is a spy,
A global assassin who spits in the eye
Of each humble earthling from Darby to Joan
Whose lives are expendable, seen from his throne.
If he should escape from a life in the clink,
Will he bother to visit his "Sancho", ya think?
Brad Manning's a "hero" according to Jules,
But I betcha he's just one of Julian's fools.
He'll grow old and gray in a Leavenworth cell
While Mr. Assange keeps right on raising hell.
Oh what shall we do with Thing One and Thing Two,
So determined to screw both with me and with you?
We must throw the book at them, the Big Book of Laws,
And give the next venomous leaker some pause
Before he or she lays the world's workings bare
And endangers all people, with nary a care.
Slam the door, turn the lock, throw the key down the well,
And tell all such traitors to go straight to Hell,
Where demons with pokers and breath like a fart
And sulphurous smoke-pots that sting like a dart
Will twirl the entrails and munch on the heart
Of posturing slimebags who think they're so smart.
Amen.
Amen and Merry Christmas.
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