Well that settles it. It’ll be best for all concerned if Texas secedes from the Union.
Chuck Norris, a fine, fine actor and obviously an equally skilled political leader, wrote in a blog that he would be interested in running for president of the Lone Star state, should it unbuckle itself from the other rabidly liberal 49 states.
“I may run for president of Texas,” Norris said in his WorldNetDaily.com opinion. “That need may be a reality sooner than we think. If not me, someone someday may again be running for president of the Lone Star state, if the state of the union continues to turn into the enemy of the state.”
Hmmm. Where can I sign that petition?
I can’t imagine why Norris wants out of the union. It seems like the other 49 would get the best part of that deal. Maybe it’s that pesky U.S. Constitution thing he doesn’t like. Do they want to execute people without any trial down there? Not pay one got-durned penny in taxes to them revenooers? Deport anyone who doesn’t speak English, at least as good as they do?
Out of fairness to both sides, of course, New Mexico would have to annex Austin, but as for Lubbock, Dallas and every gun-totin’, immigrant-hatin’, Huckabee-lovin’ town in between, I wish them luck with the Republic of Texas. Please don’t feel the need to visit, annual e-mail updates will suffice.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
So long, sucker
Let me tell you, 13 is a hard age for parents and adolescents alike. Isabella had a tiff on Valentine's Day with her, ummm, boyfriend. I still have problems with that word.
Guys are such jerks.
Anyway, to save her from terminal sullenness, my wife suggested we take Isabella to see Twilight, which I cannot believe she has not yet seen. This girl has read ALL the books, SEVERAL times. It turns out the boyfriend has as much interest in this flick as do I.
So off we go to the cheapo theater to sit in, I kid you not, a PACKED theater months after this film was first released. Patrons were visibly tense in anticipation of what was to come: vampire love.
Oy.
I never struggled with inappropriate laughter so hard in my life. The woman in front of me was crying because she was so touched by the vampire love thing. Tears were streaming down my face snickering over tree-climbing, blood-sucking, puppy-eyed stalkers who had the worst case of psoriasis I'd ever seen.
I never got into the Ann Rice thing either, but at least with those stories, you got to spend time in Romantic and mysterious New Orleans. This movie drags you to the dreariest part of the Northwest where there's so many things besides vampires to suck the life right out of you. Halfway through this very, very long movie, I was ready to pound a stake through my own heart.
On the way into the cinema, I said to Isabella, "Do you know how much I love you that I would go see this movie? Now I have to break it to her that I don't love her enough to see the sequel. Sorry. I'll upgrade your cellphone or something. Parenting is hard in ways you never expect.
Guys are such jerks.
Anyway, to save her from terminal sullenness, my wife suggested we take Isabella to see Twilight, which I cannot believe she has not yet seen. This girl has read ALL the books, SEVERAL times. It turns out the boyfriend has as much interest in this flick as do I.
So off we go to the cheapo theater to sit in, I kid you not, a PACKED theater months after this film was first released. Patrons were visibly tense in anticipation of what was to come: vampire love.
Oy.
I never struggled with inappropriate laughter so hard in my life. The woman in front of me was crying because she was so touched by the vampire love thing. Tears were streaming down my face snickering over tree-climbing, blood-sucking, puppy-eyed stalkers who had the worst case of psoriasis I'd ever seen.
I never got into the Ann Rice thing either, but at least with those stories, you got to spend time in Romantic and mysterious New Orleans. This movie drags you to the dreariest part of the Northwest where there's so many things besides vampires to suck the life right out of you. Halfway through this very, very long movie, I was ready to pound a stake through my own heart.
On the way into the cinema, I said to Isabella, "Do you know how much I love you that I would go see this movie? Now I have to break it to her that I don't love her enough to see the sequel. Sorry. I'll upgrade your cellphone or something. Parenting is hard in ways you never expect.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Rove, Rove, Rove your boat
Now this is rich.
Public enemy number one, Karl Rove, the man who gave you Bush, II, is going to name the names of those who didn’t see George as being a “legitimate” commander in chief when the got to the White House in 2001.
Pause for effect.
Hahahahahahahahahah.
You can’t get that many names in an e-book, let along a paper-and-glue tome.
Rove revealed his intention today to CNN that he was going to write a book telling about how nasty “Washington insiders” were to he and George.
If you ever wondered just how someone who met George Bush would think, “this man would make a great U.S. president,” it looks like Rove is going to finally answer that question.
More interesting would be a list of names and tales about those who really thought he was presidential material, even after The Decider got his show up and running. What a piece of blackmail that book would be.
Public enemy number one, Karl Rove, the man who gave you Bush, II, is going to name the names of those who didn’t see George as being a “legitimate” commander in chief when the got to the White House in 2001.
Pause for effect.
Hahahahahahahahahah.
You can’t get that many names in an e-book, let along a paper-and-glue tome.
Rove revealed his intention today to CNN that he was going to write a book telling about how nasty “Washington insiders” were to he and George.
If you ever wondered just how someone who met George Bush would think, “this man would make a great U.S. president,” it looks like Rove is going to finally answer that question.
More interesting would be a list of names and tales about those who really thought he was presidential material, even after The Decider got his show up and running. What a piece of blackmail that book would be.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Driving on the Edge of Disaster
Long gone are the days of huffy, right-wing nationalists shaking their heads as American after American drives home a Japanese car.
For decades, my conservative father clucked his tongue when neighbors drove home their shiny yellow B210s and sporty Celica's, one of the sexiest cars ever built.
He didn't think so. He thought it was un-American to send money to the Japanese. Unfortunately, too many of his peers felt the same way for far too long. They'd buy cars from the Big Three, even though the Japanese models were undeniably better cars all the way around, launching a generation of loafing car companies.
They ruined themselves, and now, my father's generation is gone, or has quit buying cars at all. To be fair, American car companies are building better cars. In fact, I would say many models are even superior to foreign cars. Experts say so, too. But there's so much further to go.
While in Spain two years ago, I rented a Ford Focus wagon in Barcelona. I cringed when the rental agent handed me the keys. I'd driven a Ford Focus before in Denver. It was a shuddering, anemic excuse of a car. It seemed that no one on the design team at Ford had ever worked together on the design. I'm not sure the people who developed the engine even ever had lunch with the power-train folks.
This was not my father's Ford Focus, folks. It had five speeds, a peppy diesel engine and handled like a European car. I had to keep checking the logos to see that it really was a Ford. It turns out that the Europeans would never stand for the garbage we pay tens of thousands of dollars for here in the United States. Ford is not only welcome to build cars in Europe, they've been pretty successful at it. But they must build them to a much higher standard, and fuel efficiency, than what Americans demand of the Big Three over here.
Now, the majority of Americans feel like I do about American cars. Most likely, the either don't own one or wish they didn't have to. So when the three auto companies that pay themselves and their employees luxurious wages and benefits comes begging for tax-dollar handouts, it's hard to feel charitable. Most of us don't want their cars anyway. Who cares if they go away and let the experts run the auto industry?
You do. Or rather, you will.
While some Washington pundits are moaning over endless warning cries from the Big Three and their unions that one in 10 American jobs depends on GM, Ford and Chrysler, the truth is that may not be the truth. It could be that only a mere 1 in 15 jobs depends on the survival of the Big Three.
If you're not getting this by now, I hope you're not in charge of the Washington bailouts. With the U.S. economy deep in recession and teetering on a real, honest-to-gawd depression, losing even one in 20 American jobs right now would be a calamity like the United States has never seen. That is no exaggeration. Immediately, the steel states would collapse, drawing huge financial and military resources into the region. Even during America's best financial days, it's unlikely we could have managed such a disaster for any length of time. But with the precarious state of economics right this very minute, do not doubt that the United States could some how shrug this one off.
I'm not suggesting that we just heave a collective sigh and write a check. I'm saying that the Big Three bring and their unions bring acceptable financial plans to Congress, their new banker, and get a chance to make good on so much bad. The plan would include real changes in auto designs to accommodate the fuel efficiency and performance we, too, are learning to discriminate for.
But may no mistake. Having more than one of the Big Three collapse, and it appears that if one goes, the others will almost certainly follow, will make us long for the days when another $25 billion would turn back the clock to where we are now.
For decades, my conservative father clucked his tongue when neighbors drove home their shiny yellow B210s and sporty Celica's, one of the sexiest cars ever built.
He didn't think so. He thought it was un-American to send money to the Japanese. Unfortunately, too many of his peers felt the same way for far too long. They'd buy cars from the Big Three, even though the Japanese models were undeniably better cars all the way around, launching a generation of loafing car companies.
They ruined themselves, and now, my father's generation is gone, or has quit buying cars at all. To be fair, American car companies are building better cars. In fact, I would say many models are even superior to foreign cars. Experts say so, too. But there's so much further to go.
While in Spain two years ago, I rented a Ford Focus wagon in Barcelona. I cringed when the rental agent handed me the keys. I'd driven a Ford Focus before in Denver. It was a shuddering, anemic excuse of a car. It seemed that no one on the design team at Ford had ever worked together on the design. I'm not sure the people who developed the engine even ever had lunch with the power-train folks.
This was not my father's Ford Focus, folks. It had five speeds, a peppy diesel engine and handled like a European car. I had to keep checking the logos to see that it really was a Ford. It turns out that the Europeans would never stand for the garbage we pay tens of thousands of dollars for here in the United States. Ford is not only welcome to build cars in Europe, they've been pretty successful at it. But they must build them to a much higher standard, and fuel efficiency, than what Americans demand of the Big Three over here.
Now, the majority of Americans feel like I do about American cars. Most likely, the either don't own one or wish they didn't have to. So when the three auto companies that pay themselves and their employees luxurious wages and benefits comes begging for tax-dollar handouts, it's hard to feel charitable. Most of us don't want their cars anyway. Who cares if they go away and let the experts run the auto industry?
You do. Or rather, you will.
While some Washington pundits are moaning over endless warning cries from the Big Three and their unions that one in 10 American jobs depends on GM, Ford and Chrysler, the truth is that may not be the truth. It could be that only a mere 1 in 15 jobs depends on the survival of the Big Three.
If you're not getting this by now, I hope you're not in charge of the Washington bailouts. With the U.S. economy deep in recession and teetering on a real, honest-to-gawd depression, losing even one in 20 American jobs right now would be a calamity like the United States has never seen. That is no exaggeration. Immediately, the steel states would collapse, drawing huge financial and military resources into the region. Even during America's best financial days, it's unlikely we could have managed such a disaster for any length of time. But with the precarious state of economics right this very minute, do not doubt that the United States could some how shrug this one off.
I'm not suggesting that we just heave a collective sigh and write a check. I'm saying that the Big Three bring and their unions bring acceptable financial plans to Congress, their new banker, and get a chance to make good on so much bad. The plan would include real changes in auto designs to accommodate the fuel efficiency and performance we, too, are learning to discriminate for.
But may no mistake. Having more than one of the Big Three collapse, and it appears that if one goes, the others will almost certainly follow, will make us long for the days when another $25 billion would turn back the clock to where we are now.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
If there were ever a good reason to open up drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, this is it.
Our "friends" the Saudis are beating a physician every day for weeks to come because one of his patients became an addict. The patient, it turns out was a Saudi princess. The doctor is an Egyptian. The story is all too familiar.
See what you think:
Egyptians decry doctor's sentence of 1,500 lashes
By SALAH NASRAWI
Associated Press Writer
CAIRO, Egypt | Demonstrators in Cairo demanded Tuesday that Saudi Arabia release an Egyptian doctor sentenced to 15 years in prison and 1,500 lashes after he was convicted of malpractice — reportedly after treating a Saudi princess.
His wife said she feared the punishment would kill him.
Raouf Amin el-Arabi, a doctor who has been serving the Saudi royal family for about 20 years, was convicted last year of giving a patient the wrong medication. Egyptian newspapers reported that he was accused of driving a Saudi princess "to addiction."
He initially was sentenced to seven years in prison and 700 lashes, but when he appealed two months ago, the judge not only upheld the conviction, but more than doubled the penalty to 15 years in prison and 1,500 lashes.
Family members, friends and colleagues gathered at the headquarters of Egypt's doctors' union in downtown Cairo and urged Saudi King Abdullah to pardon el-Arabi.
"My children want their father to return swiftly and safely," the doctor's wife Fathiya el-Hindawi told the Associated Press. "I hope the king will give them back their smiles."
She maintained her 53-year-old husband was innocent and feared he would die if given the full penalty.
"1,500 lashes is unprecedented in the history of Islam," read one banners carried by protesters. "Who is responsible for the humiliation of our doctors abroad?" read another.
The case has drawn nationwide criticism in Egypt and local human rights groups have demanded that Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak, who maintains close ties with the Saudi royal family, intervene to free el-Arabi.
The Saudi government has refrained from comment but Egyptian newspapers report that el-Arabi was treating a female member of the royal family when he was accused of "driving a patient to addiction." The newspapers identified the princess as one of the wives of Abdullah's nephews.
Saudi Justice Ministry officials did not answer the phone on Tuesday to comment on the case.
Egypt's Foreign Ministry said on Tuesday that diplomatic and political efforts are under way to resolve the problem, but warned that relations between the two countries should not be affected.
"The ministry is very much concerned with this case," said Ahmed Rizq, a ministry official, in a statement. "However, the Saudi judicial and political system should be respected."
Egypt's state-owned Middle East News Agency later reported that Cairo's ambassador to Riyadh, Mahmoud Auf, met with the powerful mayor of Riyadh, Prince Salman, to discuss "the status of Egyptian expatriates in the kingdom."
El-Arabi is in a jail in the Red Sea port city of Jeddah and is believed to have received at least one of his weekly installments of 70 lashes so far.
Nasty stuff. What a relief it would be to tell these people that their "friendship" and their oil are not longer needed, and if they want to play with the rest of the world, they're going to have to place nice.
Monday, November 10, 2008
California Dreamin' for Equality
The Nov. 7 election wasn’t unlike a big gala where all the giddy guests wander away after the gaieties rung in by the Obama election and congressional ousters of those who supported the Bush regime. As that last guest leaves and the balloons begin to float back to Earth from the ceiling, one of the guests stays behind, devestated.
In the good time America had in watching the country lurch ahead, tens of thousands of California residents were kicked in the face by voters insisting on illogical discrimination against gays and lesbians.
The irony is tragic. In a state where even the Republican governor supports the rights of gays to marry, a state that clinched the Barack Obama presidency, blowing the lid off of eons of bigotry and discrimination, just over half the voters in the state denied equal rights and liberties to their homosexual neighbors.
It looked like America had moved so far last week. But it just wasn’t far enough.
Americans just can’t shake off their odd preoccupation with sex and especially the sex lives of others.
Just like other minorities before them, the vote seeks to dehumanize gays and lesbians, trivializing their quest for equality by marginalizing their rank in society. Maybe not this year, but soon, and more and more people will understand that our gay and lesbian neighbors are us, just as are Americans who are disabled, Spanish-speaking, old or white.
Just as those realizations about blacks and other minorities eventually made interracial marriage legal and segregation unconstitutional, I’m convinced that Americans will eventually see discrimination against gays for the folly it is.
In the good time America had in watching the country lurch ahead, tens of thousands of California residents were kicked in the face by voters insisting on illogical discrimination against gays and lesbians.
The irony is tragic. In a state where even the Republican governor supports the rights of gays to marry, a state that clinched the Barack Obama presidency, blowing the lid off of eons of bigotry and discrimination, just over half the voters in the state denied equal rights and liberties to their homosexual neighbors.
It looked like America had moved so far last week. But it just wasn’t far enough.
Americans just can’t shake off their odd preoccupation with sex and especially the sex lives of others.
Just like other minorities before them, the vote seeks to dehumanize gays and lesbians, trivializing their quest for equality by marginalizing their rank in society. Maybe not this year, but soon, and more and more people will understand that our gay and lesbian neighbors are us, just as are Americans who are disabled, Spanish-speaking, old or white.
Just as those realizations about blacks and other minorities eventually made interracial marriage legal and segregation unconstitutional, I’m convinced that Americans will eventually see discrimination against gays for the folly it is.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Give Me an F, but Hold the U
Oh yeah, talk dirty to me Justice Roberts.
He and the rest of the Supremes took up the matter of potty talk on the airwaves yesterday. If you missed it, the FCC and broadcasters are in a battle over a 2004 FCC policy that says even fleeting use of the world’s worst English dirty words will net the networks colossal fines.
TV execs says the policy is f****d.
Roberts, who without a doubt sports the tightest sphincter on the high court bench these days, says that the F-bomb and anything that comes out of your body that starts with the letter “s” is so obscene, that even spoken so fast as to cause a double take, it’s punishable by fines larger than the gross sales of most companies in this country.
No spit.
Roberts says the F-bomb is indecent because it’s sexual in nature and therefore off limits. What a boob,
It took a little deeper thinker like Justice John Paul Stevens to point out that most instances of the F-word actually don’t refer to the sexual act to where Roberts’ mind runs when he hears it, or almost hears it.
Roberts never worked in a newsroom or a restaurant where there’s much dirty talk and little sexual innuendo and even less sex, at least compared to the judicial quarters out here in Colorado where judges walk the walk and talk the talk.
I remember the first and only time I heard my father utter the Big F. I was 13, standing in the hallway of our home. It was after dinner one night just after Christmas. He was carrying a yellow basket of clean clothes and the hot ashes from his pipe emptied into the basket. I turned as red as the glowing tobacco wad that fell from his pipe and onto my mom’s harvest gold polyester pants suit. It made that kind of an impression on me even though I launched the word among my pals with all the regularity and consideration of heartbeat.
It doesn’t matter whether your f*****g around or talking about finding a way to be fruitful and multiply, the word and it’s associated synonyms are vulgar. I say, stay the course. There’s nothing like whacking even the richest of the rich with a million-dollar fine to get their effing attention.
Then we can all go back to pretending that people don’t talk like that.
He and the rest of the Supremes took up the matter of potty talk on the airwaves yesterday. If you missed it, the FCC and broadcasters are in a battle over a 2004 FCC policy that says even fleeting use of the world’s worst English dirty words will net the networks colossal fines.
TV execs says the policy is f****d.
Roberts, who without a doubt sports the tightest sphincter on the high court bench these days, says that the F-bomb and anything that comes out of your body that starts with the letter “s” is so obscene, that even spoken so fast as to cause a double take, it’s punishable by fines larger than the gross sales of most companies in this country.
No spit.
Roberts says the F-bomb is indecent because it’s sexual in nature and therefore off limits. What a boob,
It took a little deeper thinker like Justice John Paul Stevens to point out that most instances of the F-word actually don’t refer to the sexual act to where Roberts’ mind runs when he hears it, or almost hears it.
Roberts never worked in a newsroom or a restaurant where there’s much dirty talk and little sexual innuendo and even less sex, at least compared to the judicial quarters out here in Colorado where judges walk the walk and talk the talk.
I remember the first and only time I heard my father utter the Big F. I was 13, standing in the hallway of our home. It was after dinner one night just after Christmas. He was carrying a yellow basket of clean clothes and the hot ashes from his pipe emptied into the basket. I turned as red as the glowing tobacco wad that fell from his pipe and onto my mom’s harvest gold polyester pants suit. It made that kind of an impression on me even though I launched the word among my pals with all the regularity and consideration of heartbeat.
It doesn’t matter whether your f*****g around or talking about finding a way to be fruitful and multiply, the word and it’s associated synonyms are vulgar. I say, stay the course. There’s nothing like whacking even the richest of the rich with a million-dollar fine to get their effing attention.
Then we can all go back to pretending that people don’t talk like that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)