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Monday, May 31, 2004
No Hummels On This List
Shock jock Hugh Hewitt may have untold fortune and fame but, as Eloise over at Spitbull points out, he still has needs. Who will be the first to fulfill Hugh's desire for a brand-new "Princess Sing-A-Long Microphone"? Operators are standing by.
Remember The Fallen
 "...gather around their sacred remains and garland the passionless mounds above them with choicest flowers of springtime; let us raise above them the dear old flag they saved from dishonor; let us in this solemn presence renew our pledges to aid and assist those whom they have left among us as sacred charges upon the Nation's gratitude,--the soldier's and sailor's widow and orphan." Gen. John Logan (May 5, 1868)
In obvious recognition of the Northern Alliance Radio Network's success, Al Franken has agreed to continue as host of the O'Franken Factor on Air America without collecting a paycheck.
Franken reportedly* said "Hey, if it works for those Northern Alliance guys, I figure it just might work for us. Besides, we're running out of ideas here." NARN's "involuntary investors" could not be reached for comment. *No Frankens were interviewed for this story. Labels: NARN (04-05) Saturday, May 29, 2004
Please Just Ignore Us
Per usual, I spent this past Thursday night at the classy Irish bar Keegan's in Nordeast Mpls, where yet another trivia match was won for the Fraters squad (21 out of 25 correct), a Timberwolves NBA playoff game on the tube was lost, and the sweet perfume of a beautiful blonde recent stranger again clung to my clothes and lingered in my mind all the way home. All things considered, not a bad night. I've certainly spent worse. But I suspect there may have been a few folks who spent a better one. And according to reports, those folks might have been not ten minutes away from Keegan's, over at the 400 Bar on the West Bank of Minneapolis. I've spent enough cramped, smoky, under served, artistically pretentious, acoustically muddy nights at that location to not expect greatness from it. But this past Thursday none other than Paul Westerberg made an unannounced concert appearance there. The gig was a private party (the graduation celebration for his wife Laurie Lindeen) , so I probably couldn't have gotten in anyway. And he was playing with some hipster supergroup cover outfit called "the Retro Fits". Normally the thought of a bunch of aging scenesters and their fans desperately chasing the cool and reveling in the post modern irony of playing the "hits" wouldn't interest me. I've already seen the slumming Trip Shakespeare iteration "The Flops" do this same tired schtick (as a matter of fact, also at the 400). My instincts on this atmosphere of smoke and self regard appear to be correct, if this report from the Westerberg show is any indication : Paul occasionally asked the small, dancing, raucous, audience "Does anyone wanna hear anything special?" I kept my Mats song wishlist to myself, and some goofball yelled "Freebird." To which Paul responded by starting "Stairway to Heaven"...and didn't stop. Randy, Retro Fit's other guitarist asked "Are we really going to do Stairway??" Laurie said, firmly "No", ended that nonsense, and made a couple great requests including "All the Young Dudes" and "Suffragette City", with her and Lori Barbero singing some great backup. At this stage in my life I have no interest in going to a crowded bar and enduring a screeching drummer from a horrible (yet critically legendary) local band from the 90's taking her falling star turn as a back up singer on a Bowie song, just so everyone in the crowd can laugh and cheer and congratulate themselves for being hip to Babes in Toyland back in the day. But, even so, this show might have been worth it. I think Westerberg is one of the best song writers of the rock era and his albums are responsible for more smiles, poignancy, moments of clarity, and inspiration in my life than the rest of my CD collection combined. HIs shows at the Guthrie last year were ragged and amazing and beautiful and even with him playing covers at the 400 Bar, there's a good chance it was a joy to behold. Friday, May 28, 2004
Kerry Has No Business Being Casual
On the road again. This time in Boulder,Colorado for my nephew's high school graduation. Not much time for writing of any length, what with all the family obligations and all. Here's an e-mail from Shawn on why John Kerry will not be the next President of the United States: I was sitting there this morning contemplating the universe, in a Seinfeldian sort of way, when I began to think about the current election and trying to understand the current Democratic candidate and the party's behavior. Understand first that while I was a Nixon youth, too young to actually have voted for him though, I was never a big Reagan fan, until the second term. And of course I'm a much bigger fan now. And as a student of history the current partisanship doesn't bother me it's really nothing new nor is the tone. But I am puzzled by the absolutely infantile behavior on the part of the Democrats. That made me think about Mr. Carter, whom I casually disliked, but grew to like more once he was out of office. The whole Habitat for Humanity, fishing and outdoorsy stuff that made me feel he was not that bad a guy. A view now turned upside down and I actually think I dislike him more then even Clinton, whom I regard as a mere glib opportunist. ( Actually if there is a better poster child for the corporate malfeasance that marked Worldcom and Enron then Clinton and his attitude and demeanor, I can't think of one. ) That made me think about the images of Clinton, Carter, Reagan, Dole, et al. And that's when it hit me and made me feel a little better about the upcoming election. The one thing that seem to be common to all the last several presidents, is not their world views or domestic or foreign policy. Certainly not their speaking style, all but Reagan have been uniformly mediocre. It is that all looked comfortable in casual middle to lower class casual clothes and activities. Think about it. Carter canoeing, crawfishing,leaning back feet up on the porch, muddy, dusty, in jeans, shorts and worn denim shirts. Clinton, golfing , jogging, just oozing that backwoods country boy charm. Reagan working on the ranch clearing brush. Bush 41-golfing , bass fishing with the small (albeit expensive) boat. And now GW Bush working his ranch, out getting his hands dirty. This is the image that sells. Heck good tailoring can make just about anybody look Presidential, so we don't register those images. They are interchangeable in our minds. But let's face it for a lot of people who don't follow politics and even some of us who do, it often is not just, or even ever, the issues or policy. It's who looks and acts most like us. Doing the things we all do, at home and for fun. That is a fatal problem for Kerry. Look at the pictures of Kerry biking and snowboarding, and while both are popular activities he does not have that easy casual look while doing them. He is much to well turned out. He doesn't make a connection with the average voter who does those things. Look at the bikers you see every day around town only a small percentage actually does the full race look that Kerry had. It is telling that the times I have seen Kerry in casual mode and looking comfortable is when he is on the deck of a yacht. Granted the first JFK did the same but he also had the collegiate touch football game on the quad look going. The casual touch is something that actually goes way back in politics, I remember an old PR photo I believe it was of Harding that purported to show the president at work on the farm. Well worn coveralls, pitchfork leaning against a hayrack. The only problem is that he was wearing highly polished black low quarter cap toe dress shoes. Not the battered high top brown work boots a farmer of that time would wear. But Bush actually does these things with ease. Coupled with the unguarded moment things, hugging a member of a crowd who had lost a loved one in the war, the probably ribald joke to his wife when he say the elephants mating during a photo op, yes even the flight suit and the "fake" turkey. You see a natural zest and natural ease. Much like, and it pains me to say this, Clinton had. It is a culmination of things like this, that I think, and hope, will give the President the critical edge with the undecided voters.
Start Spreading the News
Today, May 28, the sun is aligned to precisely 30 degrees east of north. And that means only one thing, it's New York = Stonehenge Day. At Fraters Libertas, we welcome this astronomical event with the singing of the traditional May 28 carol (with apologies to Frank Sinatra and Nigel Tufnel): New York, where the demons dwell Where the banshees live and they do live well New York Where a man is a man and the children dance to the pipes of pan New York Tis a magic place where the moon doth rise With a dragon's face New York Where the virgins lie And the prayer of devils fill the midnight sky And you my love, won't you take my hand We'll go back in time to that mystic land Where the dew drops cry and the cats meow I will take you there, I will show you how New York Stonehenge, New York City, the lyrics to that song fit seamlessly. An amazing coincidence. Or is it? Happy New York = Stonehenge Day. Thursday, May 27, 2004
Talk About A Special Session
I didn't have a chance to share my thoughts earlier on the story of Minnesota DFL legislators boozing it up in their offices while the people's business was being conducted. Obviously drinking is not in and of itself necessarily a bad thing. Heck, even a few of us fellows here at Fraters have been known to knock back a couple now and again. But there is obviously a time and place for it. Drinking while on the job is simply not acceptable. I have nothing against someone having a beer or glass of wine at lunch during work. Personally I prefer not to, as alcohol tends to sap my motivation. It's hard enough for me to get back to work after a hearty lunch, adding a beer to the mix would make it impossible. If I'm drinking anything while working it's coffee. Sweet, sweet coffee the magic elixir of life. There's also nothing necessarily wrong with drinking at the workplace (I speak here as an employee only). I've had a well deserved beer or two on occasion after a hard day of work, usually involving a special project where you work longer hours. But always after the work is done. I am also aware that politics and drinking are not strangers. I've been to enough conventions and election night affairs to know that most of the best political conversations and insights are shared over a cocktail. It's all part of the game. But not while you're debating the pressing the issues of the day, discussing compromises, and casting votes. One of the yahoo legislators in this case was actually kicking back and drinking while voting was being conducted on the floor. As a representative you have a responsibility to your constitutes to perform your duties to the best of your abilities. You cannot allow your faculties and judgment to be impaired by alcohol . The other disturbing aspect of this story was the fact that most of the drinking taking place in the legislative offices was being done by lobbyists. I usually tend to dismiss the claims that lobbyists run the government and they're ruining democracy, blah, blah, blah, but the idea of a pack of cackling lobbyists sitting around and pounding wine coolers in the office of the Senate Majority Whip while she's on the floor gives one pause. That's just a little bit too cozy for my comfort. I also believe that it's against the law in our fair state for a lobbyist to so much as buy lunch for a legislator. I wonder if the same legislation covers attempts to ply them with alcohol. Which brings us to an interesting question. Who was picking up the tab for all this hooch anyway? Lobbyists? Staffers? The legislators themselves? This is gonna be a fun one to follow as it unfolds. But don't expect any in-depth reporting from the Star Tribune. Today's story on the affair, which Saint Paul linked to, was buried on page B6 in the Metro section. Of course they would treated the story in the same manner if it involved Republican legislators right? Yeah right. If the DFL is looking for a new theme song for this year's election I might suggest a BTO classic. They're taking what they're given, 'cause they're Drinking For a Livin'.
As the Elder reported earlier today, the Minnesota DFL party has been caught with their hands in the liquor cabinet. Democratic legislators, their staffs, other government employees, and lobbyists, having a rip snorting bender, all while on the clock during the last day of the Legislative session (a session which ended without accomplishing any of its major responsibilities).
The life of the Democratic party appears to the distinguished Rep. from Maplewood, Scott Wasiluk. According to the Star Tribune: Rep. Scott Wasiluk, DFL-Maplewood, came over to [another legislator's] office while the House was in a late-night session. "I came to raid your whisky," Wasiluk said. The station showed Wasiluk back on the House floor for a vote on a health care issue, looking sleepy. It also showed him at another point misunderstanding what was taking place on the floor as he monitored the session on TV from Metzen's office. According to unconfirmed reports, the misunderstanding centered around his confusion over why Steve Sviggum was now hosting "Wild on Spring Break" on E! But with the morning after, it looks like Wasiluk has come back to his senses and his reflexes are back in peak condition. Especially those reflexes associated with the jerking of the knee. When confronted with the video evidence of his antics, Wasiluk responded as any good, sober Democrat would. By proposing a new law: Wasiluk issued a statement to the station saying: "I sincerely apologize for my recent behavior. If the public feels additional laws should be passed to improve public confidence in the work of legislators, I would vote for it." Please pass a state law, prevent me from drinking on the job again! Actually it might not be such a bad idea to outlaw legislating under the influence. It seems only fair since the government has already outlawed the citizens from voting while drunk. Seems to me if we can't ease the pain of Minnesota government by drinking ourselves numb, they shouldn't be able to either. Getting back to Wasiluk's laughable reaction to the allegations, the parallels are striking with the Seinfeld episode where George gets confronted by his boss about having sex with the cleaning woman at his office. (Yes, there is a direct reference to all significant human endeavors in either the Simpsons or Seinfeld). From the episode, "The Red Dot" (originally airing December 11, 1991): Boss: I'm going to get right to the point. It has come to my attention that you and the cleaning woman have engaged in sexual intercourse on the desk in your office. Is that correct? George: Who said that? Boss: She did. George: Was that wrong? Should I have not done that? I tell you I gotta plead ignorance on this thing because if anyone had said anything to me at all when I first started here that that sort of thing was frowned upon, you know, cause I've worked in a lot of offices and I tell you people do that all the time. Lord knows the DFL won't take any substantive remedial action on Wasiluk. But here's hoping the folks in his district in Maplewood have the same good sense as George's boss, who responded to ridiculous excuses in the only appropriate manner: Boss: You're fired. Labels: Life Resembles Seinfeld, Politics-Local (04-05)
Our Lawmakers Can Outdrink Your Lawmakers
Well at least our DFL (Democrat Farmer Labor) lawmakers can: Late at night, in the closing days of the legislative session, lobbyists, state workers and even some lawmakers gathered in offices at the State Capitol to drink beer, wine and liquor, KMSP-TV reported Wednesday night. The station taped someone carrying a cooler into the office of Senate Majority Whip Linda Higgins. The Minneapolis DFLer was on the Senate floor at the time, in the final hours before adjournment, but several people were in her office drinking. KMSP said most of them were lobbyists. One lobbyist was sitting behind her desk, drinking a beer. The station said it also saw lobbyists, state workers and lawmakers drinking in the office of Senate President James Metzen, DFL-South St. Paul. KMSP said it never saw Metzen drinking, and that he did not respond to requests for comment, but Rep. Scott Wasiluk, DFL-Maplewood, came over to his office while the House was in a late-night session. "I came to raid your whisky," Wasiluk said. "That's what it's there for," Metzen replied. Watch the whole report on doing the people's business here.
Sean writes to ask us to pimp his new book Real Men Listen to Rush. Consider it pimped.
Cindy writes to take a shot at Hugh and make us aware of Any Soldier, a site that offers opportunities to show your support for military personnel serving overseas. Two very noble causes indeed. i would normally had sent this to da kommissar, but as his age now requires extended periods of time to convalesce from the rigors of talking into a mic; the email is being sent to you... Let's not be too hard on Hugh there Cindy. It's been what, at least two weeks since he took a day off? He deserves a break. Tim could relate to my observation that only fools talk loud: I can top your question about why is it that the loudest people on a plane are also the most boring, and are usually sitting near you. Why is it that the loudest people on a plane also happen to be the most obnoxious, AND why is it that when you are on a chartered vacation, this loud, obnoxious person (LOP) will cross your path during your vacation seemingly at every turn? My wife and I went to Cozumel a couple years ago, and sure enough, I spotted the LOP at the curb of the terminal. I had to put up with her while in line waiting to be checked in, then at the gate, and then, lo and behold, LOP was seated just two rows behind me. Of course LOP started drinking as soon as the bar cart came out; LOP walked up to were the attendants were serving the other passengers, and requested that she be served now. With drink in hand, LOP returned to her seat and finished it just in time for the attendants to arrive and serve her another. After a couple drinks, LOP pretty much let the back half of the plane know she had to go to the bathroom. After landing, LOP stood behind me while we waited to get to the Customs counter, probably so I could continue to enjoy her witty banter. While waiting to get through Customs, my greatest fear was realized; LOP was staying at the same resort we were. My most fortunate moment of this trip happened when LOP failed to get on the same shuttle to the resort because she had to make another potty stop in the terminal. We made our dinner reservations for the resort restaurants as soon as we were done checking in. What are the odds that we would be dining in the same restaurants at the same time as LOP? Would you believe even money? A couple days later, we booked a half-day snorkel trip. My neighbors decided to come with us, and I give my neighbor a lot of credit because he doesn't swim, but after paddling around off of the shore of the resort with a life jacket, he said he was up for it. Well, the morning we were to go out, we were standing on the dock waiting for the snorkel boat to pick us up, and who begins to waddle down the dock? The LOP. We get on the boat, and while waiting for others to get down to the dock, the LOP announces that she has to go to the bathroom, and asks the snorkel tour operators where is the bathroom on the boat. He shows her and a few minutes later we head off for our trip. The first stop was pretty wavy, so my neighbors decided to just watch through the glass bottom of the boat. The LOP had helped herself to a couple beers on the way, and said she was a little too buzzed to go in the water this time. At our next stop on the reef, my neighbor pulled me aside and said he couldn't be on the boat another minute with that woman. He'd rather drown, so he said he would take his chances in the water. Luckily, we didn't have to put up with LOP as she booked a seven day trip and we only booked five days, so we were able to get home in relative peace and quiet. He ain't down with LOPs. And neither is Tom: Couldn't agree more. I fly a bit. Usually, I scope out the waiting area (or pre-boarding as they say in the industry) to try to determine the ratio of the last person I want to sit next to, to the possibility of having an empty seat. It is amazing that the ratio is always 50 to 1 or more. Yesterday I flew from MSP to Atlanta. The frumpy, bookish, all clad in black (but no leather) woman in front of me had a Wellstone! button on her purse. I figured chances were excellent she'd sit next to me but alas, I was seated between two stoic Norwegian types. They didn't say a thing. Great flight. PS: Yesterday while in Atlanta, I heard nationally syndicated radio talk show host Glenn Beck. I don't know if he is on in Mpls or not because he is distributed by evil Clear Channel. Anyway, while I was listening, Beck was talking about our soon to be Democratic Senate candidate/failed radio talk show host/former St. Louis Park bully boy/current Strib "Tiger Beat" special pull out heart throb Al Franken. Beck related a story about Al at the airport in Iowa right after the caucus'. Seems, no one was getting out because everyone was trying to get out. Beck says he was in line, when Franken strolled up to inquire about the possibilities of getting out. When the agent said he'd have to wait like everyone else, Al said (paraphrasing Beck here) "There must be some mechanism for someone like me to get out of here now!". Once again, the populist is made a man of the people. That's our Al. I'm surprised he didn't play the John Kerry's favorite "Do you know who I am?" card. Labels: Fraters Inc Wednesday, May 26, 2004
I felt a twinge of empathy when reading this piece regarding President Nixon's state of mind on October 11, 1973:
...U.S.-Soviet tensions were peaking over the Arab-Israeli war, and British Prime Minister Edward Heath's office called the White House just before 8 p.m. to ask to speak with Nixon. "Can we tell them no?" Kissinger asked his assistant, Brent Scowcroft, who had told him of the urgent request. "When I talked to the president, he was loaded." Egypt and Syria were blasting the Israelis, General Secretary Brezhnev was hopping mad, Vice President Spiro Agnew had just resigned and Prime Minister Heath was on the horn trying to reach him...so President Nixon was holed up in the Oval Office with a bottle of scotch drinking himself silly. Brilliant. You can bet that any cigars he had that day went nowhere near any chubby beret-wearing interns. Labels: Foreign Policy
Summertime and the Drinkin's Easy
At least if you're a Monkey it is. Here in Minnesota we're still between seasons and so the appropriate alcoholic beverages are sharing shelf space. Right now my top shelf includes Bombay Sapphire Gin, The Dalmore Cigar Highland Malt Whisky, a fine sipping Tequila whose name presently escapes me, Armenian Brandy (courtesy of King), Chopin Vodka, and a bottle of Crema Tequila (think Bailey's but with Tequila) recently acquired on my trip to Chihuahua. With highs in the sixties during the day and lows in the forties at night right now, all of these are potential candidates for imbibing. As the temperatures rise so will the appeal of gin and Tequila, while the desire for Scotch and brandy will wan. Of course beer is always in season. It's the just the type of beer that varies. Anybody getting thirsty?
From Russia, With Love
Recently, Fraters correspondent the Silver Bullet was dispatched to Russia with two missions. First, get the straight dope on European media bias for posting on Fraters Libertas. Second, adopt a child. I'm happy to announce she has successfully accomplished both. Here's her report: This will be a rambling epistle, I'm sure. I'm suffering from jet lag, new parenthood, and the ill effects of returning to work 3 days after returning from Russia with the most beautiful 7 month old baby boy on earth. Self employment has its benefits, but "family and medical leave" ain't one of them. For the last two weeks, our only news source has been the BBC. Since our return, I haven't had time to read Fraters Libertas, watch Fox News, or listen to Hugh Hewitt to cleanse my brain of the anti-American filth. There was almost no mention on the international news of the beheading of an American civilian, but there was hourly coverage of the "atrocities" perpetrated by the American soldiers. I don't know, but to me, most of the so-called atrocities looked more like bad high school football hazing incidents. Worthy of prosecution, but not comparable to, oh I don't know, A RECORDED BEHEADING OF A CIVILIAN. We were fortunate, though, that the two couples traveling with us were military. One, a lieutenant colonel in the Army, just back from a year in Iraq, and the other a Marine just returned from his 6 month tour. The stories they told were 180 degrees from what the media portrays. They contended that, with few exceptions, the Iraqis are thrilled that the Americans are there. That the schools are being rebuilt, the infrastructure renewed, the people being fed and receiving medical care. That the "insurgents" are terrorists imported from across Iraq's porous border. And the military is happy to be fighting them over there, and not over here. And both these guys, one stationed on the west coast, and one on the east, came home from the desert, and immediately packed up their wives and headed back around the world to adopt a baby and bring them back to the greatest country ever seen on earth. Real nasty jerks, those American military guys. To get these children out of a country that hasn't yet rebuilt from WWII. It struck me as I was there, listening to the BBC bitch about the US not doing enough to rebuild Iraq and Afghanistan, that I've never heard ANYONE complain that Germany hasn't done enough to rebuild Russia after World War II. And hell, after 60 years, why hasn't Russia done enough to rebuild Russia?? I learned a lot, I guess. I learned that I'm safer kissing the dirty floor of JFK airport than I am drinking the water in Europe. That Europe is not even able to solve its own most basic problems, much less those of other parts of the world. And that, right now, I wouldn't want anyone other than George Bush calling the shots on what's best for America. As if I didn't know the last part already. Fraters Libertas sends out a hearty congratulations to the Silver Bullet family on their bouncing new baby boy. As the progeny of a Russian immigrant grandmother myself, I couldn't be happier to have another comrade added to the great American mix. And it sounds like this kid is going to be brought up right. Extremely right, since apparently his early cognitive development will be highly influenced by nationally syndicated shock jock Hugh Hewitt. No sooner had I finished writing you my rambling Russian saga, than I turn on the Hugh Hewitt show to give my new baby his first dose of brilliant conservative commentary, and it's not Hugh, but you!! And he promptly puked on me. I'm sure it's a coincidence......Teasing of course. How great!! Coincidence or not, I think puking might be the least of your worries. Give this kid a few months of exposure to Hugh Hewitt and his first word just might be "Minne-so-cold". Or worse yet, "Erwin Chemerinsky". Don't say we didn't warn you.
With Victories Like This, Who Needs Defeats?
An AP report from the Washington Times on the situation in Fallujah: With U.S. Marines gone and central government authority virtually nonexistent, Fallujah resembles an Islamic mini-state - anyone caught selling alcohol is flogged and paraded in the city. Men are encouraged to grow beards and barbers are warned against giving "Western" hair cuts. "After all the blood that was shed, and the lives that were lost, we shall only accept God's law in Fallujah," said cleric Abdul-Qader al-Aloussi, offering a glimpse of what a future Iraq may look like as the U.S.-led occupation draws to a close. "We must capitalize on our victory over the Americans and implement Islamic sharia laws." The departure of the Marines under an agreement that ended the three-week siege last month has enabled hard-line Islamic leaders to assert their power in this once-restive city 30 miles west of Baghdad. Well, at least the trains probably run on time right? Apparently we've elected to trade the freedom of the majority of Iraqis in Fallujah for security. This outcome leaves a very bad taste in my mouth. (Via Power Line) Tuesday, May 25, 2004
The Name Game
Captain Ed likes to call it the U.N.'s Sex For Food Scandal. I prefer 'Blue Helmeted Soldiers And Their Purple Helmeted Warriors'.
How Many Totebags Did They Have To Give Away To Raise That Kind Of Money?
MPR headquarters to grow: Minnesota Public Radio, one of the nation's biggest noncommercial stations, will spend $41 million to more than double the size of its St. Paul headquarters. The MPR board has approved the design and budget for a 70,000-square-foot, four-story addition to its existing studios and offices at 7th and Cedar streets. The glassy building, designed by HGA architects of Minneapolis, will stretch north of MPR's signature brick headquarters. The expansion, planned since 1999, will consolidate MPR's 300 employees, now dispersed in three buildings, and allow room for growth. The existing headquarters, built in 1979, will be renovated after the addition is done. In related media news, local commercial talk radio station AM 1280 The Patriot announced that it will spend $41 to refurbish its studios by painting the basement "green room".
Line of the Year
Thanks to Hugh Hewitt for allowiing the Northern Alliance to host his fine radio program this evening. It was my first taste of national radio exposure and I must say it was a blast. Also thanks to our third hour guest Mike Nelson, who, amid his witty commentary on the news, provided the comedy line of the year. In reference to Michael Moore's exploits at the Cannes Film Festival this year, I asked Mike if he ever received a 20 minute standing ovation, as Moore did following a screening of his incendiary anti-Bush propaganda flick "Fahrenheit 9/11" in France. Mike's response: "No, but I've never hated America that much."
Give 'Til It Hurts (because it will for us)
Once again, Atomizer and I will be participating this summer in the MS SUN 75, a seventy five mile in-line skate from Hinckley to Duluth to raise money to help fight multiple sclerosis. If you wish to make a donation to our team you can do so here.
You Thought You Knew Everything About Hugh Hewitt?
In case you have not yet heard, the Northern Alliance is once again filling the argyle stockings of Hugh Hewitt, and hosting his nationally syndicated talk radio show tonight. Those of you unfamiliar with Hugh might be interested in his upcoming unauthorized biography called Hugh Hewitt: From Legal Beagle To Shock Jock-A Man Of Many Titles [my choice would have been The Life of Ralphie]. The work, which is a result of years of extensive research by the author, who prefers to simply be known as JP, chronicles the series of happy accidents which have led Hugh to where he is today. Here's a short excerpt: Born on February 22, 1936, in Warren, Ohio, Shock Jock Hugh Hewitt, a practicing attorney in California, is the host of a nationally syndicated radio show heard in more than 60 cities nationwide, and a Professor of Law at Chapman University Law School, where he teaches Constitutional Law. He is the author of four books, with a fifth to be published by Thomas Nelson in July of 2004. Hewitt has received three Emmys during his decade of work as co-host of the PBS Los Angeles affiliate KCET's nightly news and public affairs show Life & Times. He is a weekly columnist for The Daily Standard, the online edition of The Weekly Standard, and a weekly columnist for WorldNetDaily.com. Mr. Hewitt claims to continue to be active in the practice of law. Hugh received a Bachelor of Arts Degree from Harvard University shortly after the end of the Second World War. Remarkably enough, unable to find work during the booming post-War years, Mr. Hewitt eventually found himself at the University of Michigan School of Law. This member of a bizarre and mysterious cult known as the 'Order of the Coif' eventually "graduated" with a Juris Doctor degree. (Inexplicably, Mr. Hewitt was not admitted to the California Bar until June 1989.) After finally completing law school, Mr. Hewitt spent his productive years as a low-level functionary of the federal government (clerk to a hanging judge, government lawyer, etc.), occasionally rising to the mid-level mediocrity. Eventually tiring of the rarified air of Washington, D.C., Mr. Hewitt, continuing with his record of spotty employment, accepted a short-term position as Executive Director of the Richard Nixon Library & Birthplace, in Yorba Linda, California. After a very phlegmatic year at the helm of the Library and Birthplace, Mr. Hewitt vacated the position in September of 1990, leaving it in the capable hands of John H. Taylor, who served as Nixon's chief of staff for the past 10 years. After It was while he was "employed" at Pettis, Tester, that Hugh Hewitt earned his reputation as a tenacious and feisty litigator. In what is still spoken about in hushed terms as the Battle of the Big Birds, Mr. Hewitt engaged in a long-running battle with the dreaded and endangered Gnatcatcher on behalf of a group of patriotic rich developers. In September of 1993, having exhausted the resources of Pettis, Tester, in his mythic battle with the Gnatcatcher, and already feathering his nest with his side occupation as a radio shock jock (while also showing his true colors as a TV host on the notoriously liberal PBS), Mr. Hewitt turned his back on his employers and set out on his own in the company of eight others to form the eponymously named firm of Hewitt & McGuire. Mr. Hewitt is perhaps best known as the living example of the egg-shell plaintiff, following his series of debilitating injuries on jet-skis, snowmobiles, softball games, and while jogging. Much like his hero and role model John Kerry, Mr. Hewitt also claimed to have undergone rotator cuff surgery,. Just like John Kerry mysteriously and conveniently removed himself from the Presidential campaign for a period of time, Mr. Hewitt thus removed himself from competition in the greatest sports moment in Minnesota history, his Hugh Hewitt All-Stars hockey game. Today the Beloved Husband of The Fetching Mrs. Hewitt, Hugh busies himself with his little radio show in Los Angeles, which is growing at a startling pace, adding new affiliates on nearly a yearly basis. His hobbies include folk music, mispronouncing words on the air, consuming vast quantities of orange snack foods, injuring himself in bizarre manners, and accumulating meaningless titles.
We're Here, We're Queer, And We Want Another Order of Chicken Fingers
During my recent trip to Chihuahua, Mexico I learned that the big night of the week for people there to go out and get a little bit crazy is Thursday. The bars and clubs are hoppin' on Thursdays. And none is more popular for drinking, dancing, and general debauchery in Chihuahua than Applebee's. Yes, the same Applebee's. The Applebee's where your parents like to go and have a reasonably priced dinner. The Applebee's where people like to bring their kids. Apparently the American restaurant import is attracting a bit of a different crowd in Chihuahua. In fact Thursday nights at Applebee's have even started to be known as a hot spot for gays looking to hook up. While no self-respecting, hip, "alternative lifestyler" in the United States would be caught dead in the staid, suburban conformity of Applebee's, for their Mexican Queer Nation counterparts it's THE place to be. I guess Vincent Vega was right. It is the "little things".
Removing All Doubt
The following is an observation stemming from the last fifteen minutes of my flight from Houston to Minneapolis yesterday: Why is it that people who carry on loud conversations in public are never interesting, intelligent folk whose witty banter you would actually enjoy hearing, but rather rude, obnoxious fools whose ignorant, unavoidable remarks precipitate a slow boil in the listener until it's all you can do to restrain the overwhelming urge to turn around and tell the idiotic slob behind and across the row from you to kindly shut the hell up? Just asking.
Flaming Hot
The Stanley Cup in Tampa Bay? It just ain't right. If you need more reason to cheer for the Calgary Flames tonight, this site, brought to my attention by Tom, should win you over. Monday, May 24, 2004
Previously on the Newspaper Newlyweds ... the cohabitating columnists from Crocus Hill were left on a relatively happy note, with Nick Coleman presenting his wife, the avaricious Laura Billings, with a brand spanking new luxury automobile. But, as is the roller coaster pattern with these two kids, the serenity couldn't last.
Eschewing his newfound domestic tranquility, Nick recently chronicled for all to see his intimate reengagement with an old friend - the local pornographic industry. In Nick's most recent column, he reveals some of his favorite moments in Twin Cities porn. Beginning with his "journalistic interest" in a recently opened dirty book store not too far from his stately Crocus Hill mansion: ...the Love Doctor, opened on University near Snelling, offering X-rated magazines, movies and novelties. This is an especially wholesome part of St. Paul where the big excitement is watching old cars drive up and down on weekends. So as an inquiring newsman, I visited the Doctor as soon as I heard of it. Yes, an inquiring newsman must get down there quickly to see what's REALLY going on in an X-rated store called the Love Doctor. Besides, that copy of Screw Magazine isn't going to read itself you know. Nick then goes on to feign that his knowledge of the porn industry is really not from firsthand experience: I have not made a scientific survey of X-rated businesses in the Twin Cities, but a cursory glance at the ads in the back of a local weekly suggests that there are a dozen or so strip joints in Minneapolis and only one that survives in St. Paul. I'm not sure what a scientific survey might imply, but my guess is his cursory glance was funded by several dozen single dollars of research. Coleman finishes with a reminiscence of the glory days of St. Paul porn, which ended in 1989 with the closing of "a giant porn complex at University and Dale called the Notorious Faust." Well, at least that was before he met Laura. Maybe that had something to do with the end of his first marriage? I had the good luck of witnessing the riot on the Faust's last day of notoriety, when reporters, anti-porn activists and thrifty porn customers (everything was on sale for half-off) converged in an amazing fracas, a 10-minute brawl that see-sawed from the porn aisles into the street. I am not making this up: A toothless old man in a raincoat was pounding on a counter loudly demanding to know where the lesbian videos could be found while the beefy clerks were jumping over the counter swinging saps at reporters, customers and politicians. They shoved everyone out onto the street into a huge slush puddle while cop cars roared up and tried to save the city from turning into Sodom or Gomorrah right on the spot. That was a fun day. Based on his ability to attract Laura Billings' affection in the first place, we know that Nick is a lavish spender. And just imagine how much more he could buy in a going out of business sale. But what, exactly, is a "sap"? From the context I have to assume it's some really disgusting sex toy that you wouldn't want swung at you. I can't say for sure, and maybe only two people in St. Paul can: that mysterious, toothless old man with the hankering for lesbian videos and Nick Coleman (assuming those are different people). Giving more insight into the morality of Nick Coleman, recall he's the guy who was outraged at the sight of a prayer breakfast on the grounds of the state capitol. Yet a porn shop fracas is not the least bit scandalous. No, instead, that was a fun day. Hard to say how Nick's very public interest in adult entertainment is going to go over at the House of Coleman-Billings. As the Newspaper Newlywed archives reveal, Laura hasn't been shy about humiliating her husband in print for his other indiscretions and failings (he's a slob, his advanced age makes "performance" unpredictable, he doesn't wrap presents nicely enough). But will she go as far as ridiculing her spouse in the pages of the Pioneer Press for his potential, heartbreaking addiction to pornography? Tune in next time for all the scandalous (alleged) details in the Twin Cities favorite soap opera between-the-lines, The Newspaper Newlyweds. (Original story submitted by Man from Silver Mountain) Labels: Newspaper Newlyweds
Banzai Baseball
The Rocket Man from Powerline has returned from his two week trip to the Land of the Rising Sun and posts a review (including video) of his attendance at a Japanese baseball game, between the Yomiuri Giants and Hanshin Tigers. It's great stuff and really captures the excitement of the game. I've always been intrigued with Japanese baseball, something about their child like enthusiasm for the sport is really endearing. And refreshing, you'd never see it from fans in the US. The players seem to have a commitment to the fans, a sense of responsibility toward them that is alien to the US sporting scene. Which is probably why you'll never see the fans react in such an unrestrained, uncynical manner here. I've never been to Japan for a game (or for any other reason), but last year the St. Paul Saints had a Japanese guy running around the stands, leading cheers and singing songs all season long. I think he was an exchange student and an intern in their promotions department and the team capitalized on his cultural perspective to bring some of the Japanese baseball experience to Midway Stadium. Since the Saints had him alternately dressed in a karate outfit and a kimono, not sure how authentic it all was. But the guy was a great sport and it was funny stuff. FYI - the St. Paul Saints home season starts tonight. They probably won't bring back the Japanese guy (I imagine he graduated, or was deported, or was rescued by Amnesty International's cultural stereotype sweatshop division). But in terms of unbridled enthusiasm and camaraderie between the fans and players, independent minor league baseball is probably as close as you'll find to Japanese baseball. Rocket's post provides another direct parallel between the two, drinking and jostling in the stands: My companions drank a number of beers .... The chanting and singing continued non-stop, and when the home team took the lead in the bottom of the seventh, the stadium went crazy. My camera work got a little shaky because I was knocked over, briefly, by a woman behind me who, in turn, was knocked down by someone else. One of my favorite Saints game memories was from 7 or 8 years ago, where JB Doubltess and I botched two 20-ounce beer hand offs within 30 minutes. No doubt this was on account of being jostled by the frenzied fans around us, but the tragic-comic end result was that we accidentally poured the entire contents of each gigantic cup down the back of the guy sitting in front of us. Understandably, he wasn't amused the first time and was enraged the second time. But by any standard of comedy, for everyone not getting the Summit Pale Ale Shower, this is hilarious. Only through a Herculean effort were we able to stifle the laugher long enough to apologize to the poor SOB and assuage his rage by buying him his own free beer before it all degenerated into fisticuffs. As the noted philosopher Homer Simpson once said, "To alcohol, the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems." Saturday, May 22, 2004
Gawker - Cathedral Hill Edition
The Warrior Princess forwards a first hand report of a blushing bride's brush with greatness, right here in St. Paul : Friday evening I attended the wedding of one of my dearest friends at the Cathedral of St. Paul. After the service, the new couple made their trek down the Cathedral stairs, and into their convertible to go to the reception, when a large SUV pulled up alongside the car. The back window rolled down, and whose head popped out? None other than Minnesota's Governor Tim Pawlenty! I didn't hear what he said, but I'm sure it was some form of congratulations. My friends were shocked and pleasantly surprised. He was definitely a welcomed though unexpected well wisher. They chatted for a few seconds, then Governor Pawlenty proceeded to get out of his vehicle, help the new couple out of their convertible, and pose for pictures!! It was awesome. Governor, my heartfelt thanks to you for taking time out of your day to help make another couple's most important day even more special. You didn't have to stop, and you certainly didn't have to get out of the car to pose for pictures, yet you did so with joy. Though you had no way of knowing, you could not have picked a more deserving couple to bestow the honor of your congratulations upon. Your kind gesture was an unexpected blessing that helped make their wedding day infinitely beyond all they could have asked or imagined, and those of us who wanted nothing less for them are truly grateful to you. I can't personally vouch for the veracity of this report, but it all seems plausible. The Governor's Mansion is only about 5 blocks away from the Cathedral, straight down Summit Avenue. I also like how this unknown, anonymous correspondent lapsed into a first person address to the Governor, which assumes he reads Fraters Libertas. I don't know that he does, but maybe this person knows something I don't. Since she's anonymous, who can say? (We here at Fraters Libertas specialize in pseudonymous reports, not anonymous.) But what the heck, if it was good enough for Woodward and Bernstein, it's good enough for us. Friday, May 21, 2004
Separated At Birth?
Coach choker and current Timberwolf Latrell Sprewell And movie choker and dated cultural reference Jar Jar Binks?
Life At Balsawood Begins
Moving. What a colossal pain. I absolutely love the end result but I loathe the process. It always starts with the painful surveying stage. This began for me on a day so far removed from the actual moving date that mail was still arriving with the little yellow address correction labels from my previous moving experience. This stage entails standing amidst all of your accumulated stuff, letting go with a big exasperated sigh once the enormity of the task ahead sets in and then pouring a drink and forgetting about it for the evening. After that bottle of gin is gone comes the purging stage. That's when you comb through your stuff and separate the items that are deemed move-worthy from those that are just dead weight. When one's future roommate will soon be referred to as "the wife", this involves some careful consideration. Some items are easy. Pictures of any and all ex-girlfriends...trash them. Better yet, hire a courier to pick them up and deliver them directly to the core of the sun. The argument slated for sometime in 2006 when they are discovered in the corner of the basement closet is therefore successfully averted. Some items, however, are not so clear-cut. These require clever planning and strategic boxing techniques. Since the lovely Atomizerette does actually read this site on occasion, I will refrain from giving specific examples. Suffice it to say, the argument slated for September of this year, when the first of these items is discovered, is still very much in play. Needless to say, I am prepared. Next come the utterly mundane stages of packing, loading, transporting, and unloading all that stuff. Nothing good or witty can be said about these actions. They are necessary. They are ugly. Best of all for me, they are done. After the bottles of gin necessary to accomplish those stages are empty comes the unpacking stage and that is where you, gentle reader, have found me today. The lovely Atomizerette and I have spent the last two days transforming someone else's house into our new home. This process had me, among countless other tasks, feeding my inner obsessive-compulsive demons yesterday morning by carefully placing my 300 plus CDs into their racks in strict alphabetical order. So strict, I might add, that despite my strong desire to file my Elvis discs under "E" for Elvis where my heart feels they belong, I felt compelled to file them under "P" for Presley. When the time came to combine the lovely Atomizerette's CD collection with mine, I was struck by a curious juxtaposition. As it happens, the immutable laws of the modern Roman alphabet dictates that my copy of Rapeman's "Two Nuns And A Pack Mule" sits next to her copy of country boy-band Rascal Flatts' sophomore effort "Melt". The only thing that these two bands have in common, aside from the fact that the members of each are all biped humanoids, is that both bands are trios. In fact, our two CD collections have very little in common. Tim McGraw is now next to The Melvins. Faith Hill is pressed up against The Hives (and the boys never looked happier). Don't get me wrong. I'm not knocking my wife-to-be's taste in music. It just has occurred to me that the melding of our two collections represents the first in what I imagine will be a long series of eye-opening revelations, some good and some bad, that will present themselves now that our two solo acts have become a permanent duet...and I can't wait to see what comes next. And so, life now begins in the not-quite palatial suburban estate we lovingly call...Balsawood.
Talk About Winning Ugly
The Fraters trivia team managed to claim yet another victory last night at Keegan's Irish Pub despite the absence of my handsome mug and wealth of trivial knowledge. Apparently what the squad lacked in numbers and beauty, they more than made up for in intellectual prowess and trash talking, as they crushed all competition including a team made up of teachers at the high school that JB, Atomizer, and I all gradumawated from. When I recall some of the faculty that "taught" me in my school daze, the result doesn't come as much of a surprise at all. We continue to tune up with trivia victories over inferior opponents as we prepare for an end of summer, State Fair trivia showdown with Hugh Hewitt and whomever he can scrape together for a team. Hugh threw down a challenge some time ago to take us on in trivia, and we are more than willing to take him up on it. Fraters trivia team to Hugh: "Bring it on."
Losing Ugly
Speaking of wince-worthy spectacles, the WNBA Minnesota Lynx have are starting their regular season soon and the Star Tribune published its rah-rah preview of their prospects. In order to advance its gender equity political agenda, the Strib does its best to accentuate the positive while completely ignoring the putrid quality of the product being offered. But, the poor SOB assigned to the Lynx beat (John Millea) can't help but clue us in on his state of mind as he looks forward to an entire season of writing about professional women's basketball. I believe the tone of these excerpts tell the real story: At first blush, the looming 2004 season might appear to cause Lynx stomachs to churn. .... They have performed a Timberwolves-type remodeling project, bringing in enough new blood to make Quentin Tarantino flinch. Remember, this was a article promoting the team. Makes you want to run out and buy some season tickets, don't it? Or at least buy some Pepto- Bismol. Believe it or not, I plan to read Star Tribune Lynx coverage this season. It's not often you get treated to passive-aggressive, violent, Freudian imagery such as this in the newspaper on a regular basis. As the season progresses, it should be fun to count Millea's cries for help until he finally resigns or has a nervous breakdown.
Winning Ugly
The NBA Western Conference finals begin tonight featuring the LA (nee Minneapolis) Lakers and our own Minnesota T-Wolves. The local club got there by triumphing over the Sac Kings in a do-or-die game 7 that proved to be gut-wrenching, red hot anxiety-enflaming, hang-on-by-the-fingernails drama. In other words, it was a typical Minnesota sports experience. With our local teams, this happens all the time. For those not from here, let me be clear, this is not a good thing. For the fan, the experience of winning such a game isn't that different from losing. It's still mostly painful. Your very real hopes of abstract sports glory all riding on the capricious fortunes of a group of guys entirely incapable of seizing a victory that's already lying their in their grasp. A group of guys, whom you've devoted your undying devotion to because they're wearing shirts with the name of your city on them, who seem intent on giving the opposition every chance to steal the game away, and with it our dreams, forever. As the game progresses you feel the rapid bleeding away of your serenity and your happiness, to then experience the methodical, relentless ratcheting up of your anxiety and the awakening of all the echoes of Minnesota sports failures past. You sweat, you gnash your teeth, your temperature rises, your heart races, you get a headache. And even if your team somehow wins the game, as the Wolves did on Wednesday, you still had to go through all that turmoil. And all for a slight sense of relief afterwards. Not happiness, not rejoicing, but momentary relief that it all didn't end as horribly as you thought it would. After the game I was listening to KSTP's Tommy Mischke and he was articulating this experience brilliantly. Despite his better judgment, he got sucked in to the Wolves series and game 7 (which ended just as he came on the air at 10 PM) and he likened the fan's experience of them winning in the manner they did to surviving a free floating trip down a raging, white water rapids. You're only reaction is "oh well, I guess I didn't drown today." After thrashing about, clawing and scratching to stay alive, that's all the benefit you get. The negative affect a game like this can have on your psyche was evident in Mischke's reaction to a crank caller he had later in the show. The guy just babbled on and started singing and whistling before hanging up, which prompted Mischke to pause for a beat, then say "Sir .... I rarely wish AIDS on anyone. But I sincerely pray to God that in the next 48 hours you learn that you are HIV positive." In context, with Mischke's mild mannered delivery, it was hilarious (whereas if Michael Savage mouthed the same words, it probably would have been cause for a national uproar and boycott). Needless to say, professional sports Minnesota style are not good for one's health. As proof, Mischke referenced the local legend that Fran Tarkenton's father had a heart attack during the 1975 Vikings-Cowboys playoff game, as a result of the spirit immolating last second Hail Mary pass which cost the Vikings the game and a trip to the Super Bowl. According to Snopes, the Hail Mary pass didn't actually cause Fran's dad's death, although Dallas Tarkenton did die during the game: Some fans, determined to find more than coincidence in coincidences, later concluded that the infamous "Hail Mary" game had actually caused the death of the elder Tarkenton. The terrible combination of the Cowboys' last-minute comeback, the controversial officiating on key plays, the specter of a referee's being hit in the head with a bottle on national television, and yet another crushing defeat for his son's team had, they assumed, induced Dallas Tarkenton's fatal heart attack. But it wasn't so. If nothing else, at least Fran Tarkenton had the consolation of knowing that nothing about that fateful game had anything to do with his father's death. Dallas Tarkenton, Sr., was stricken during the third quarter, before the "Hail Mary" pass, before the controversy over the lack of an offensive pass interference call, before the bottle-throwing incident, before the Vikings' final defeat, and died without regaining consciousness. He never saw the end of the game. Perhaps, as a sportswriter suggested at the time, in an odd sort of way, God was looking out for one of His ministers that day by calling him home a little early. Amen. Any Vikings fan old enough to remember that game will attest, getting yanked through this veil of tears in the third quarter (before he had to suffer through Drew Pearson blatantly committing offensive pass interference on the Hail Mary pass, which the refs ignored) was indeed a mercy killing. In recent years, I've often come to the fleeting conclusion that putting so much emotion into outcomes of sporting events is foolishness. To put up with all of this trouble, all for a contest in which I have no real material interest. If I gave it all up on my own, or all the teams moved away because we wouldn't build them publicly financed stadiums, maybe that would be a good thing. Mischke echoed those comments last night. And it seems there are others out there who have already adopted the right frame of mind. Take the Lakers' Shaquille O?Neal, for example. He provided this lesson in proper perspective (and brilliant disrespect), when asked on Wednesday if he planned to watch the T-Wolves-Kings game (the winner of which would go on to face his team, the Lakers): "I'd rather watch you walk butt-naked down Sunset Boulevard," O'Neal told an aging sports reporter. Knowing the slovenly, gluttonous personal habits of most sports writers (and those are just the women), that's a guy who REALLY doesn't care about watching sports. I can't say I'm there yet. But I am proud to say I will be skipping watching the Wolves game tonight. That's right, I'll be at the Metrodome instead, watching the Twins and White Sox battle it out for first place in the American League Central. She starts at 7:05 tonight. Baby steps, that's how I'll kick this addiction. Thursday, May 20, 2004
But Are They House Trained?
Is it just me or are these just about the most domesticated group of monkeys you've ever seen?
Better Stop Flogging Now
Peter e-mails to offer up a thought for consideration: So far I have not seen a blog using the following analogy in the Abu Ghraib case. Feel free to be the first. "In 1997, in a police station bathroom, Haitian immigrant Abner Louima was brutalized by NYPD Officer Justin Volpe. Volpe pleaded guilty to the assault. Officer Charles Schwarz was found guilty of assisting him, though both Volpe and Schwarz insist that the second officer in the room -- though not taking part in the attack -- was Thomas Wiese. Schwarz, Wiese, and Thomas Bruder were subsequently convicted of obstruction, for attempting to cover up the facts of the case, though these convictions were put aside on February 28, 2002." Did the people of New York City or New York State lose all confidence in the NYC police department? Did newspapers call for an accelerated exit strategy that would remove all police presence from the streets of NYC as quickly as possible? Was the relationship between the police and the public declared a quagmire? Did anyone outside of NYC pay any attention to this event at all? Outside of the US? The answers, of course, are NO, NO, NO, NO, and NO. The Abu Ghraib case not only seems analogous. It seems IDENTICAL. Rogues with unclear personal boundaries did some weird stuff. They were caught. Proper channels were followed in identifying, apprehending, and trying them. End of story. It is now up to the media to explain why they think it is NOT the end of the story. I know, the temptation for bloggers is to guess at their motivation. Perhaps this. Maybe that. But it is not a guessing game. It is an editorial choice. If they can't tell us why they continue to flog this dead horse, they should stop the flogging. Peter does make an apt comparison. However, I have one small bone to pick with him. Although I did not make a direct analogy between NYC cops and the abuses at Abu Ghraib, I was on a similar wavelength way back on May 6th when I wrote: The mistreatment of Iraqi prisoners at Abu Ghraib prison by U.S. military guards is disgusting and shameful. All of those who are responsible in any way for the actions, be they the guards themselves, their commanders, U.S. intelligence agents, or private contractors should be punished appropriately. While their conduct will no doubt damage Coalition efforts to provide security and stability to Iraq, it should in no way be seen to invalidate the reasons for the war. Nor should it influence U.S. decisions on the future course of the war. Do the actions of a few bad cops mean that the noble efforts of the majority of the police force to fight crime was wrong? Would you then conclude that because of these inappropriate actions the police should completely abandon their efforts at fighting crime? Of course not. Only a fool would believe so.
Wanna Be Americano
Back to Chihuahua for the annual physical inventory. Yes, it's about as exciting as it sounds. We arrived last night which meant we missed the Wolves game. Fortunately the hotel has cable so I was able to catch the highlights. Looking forward to watching Friday's game down here. The locals seem to have no love lost for the Lakers (a lot of Spurs fans here) so the Timberwolves should have their support. Speaking of support, despite Barbara Boxer's clams to the contrary, I have not detected any particular animosity towards Americans here because of the Abu Ghraib abuse. In fact the attitude of most of the Mexicans that I've spoken with toward the war in Iraq is detached indifference. They're much more concerned with their political imbroglios involving the mayor of Mexico City than anything happening in Iraq or the United States. The idea that the abuses at Abu Ghraib have somehow soiled the "American brand" and will hurt American business overseas is ridiculous. People understand that individual Americans do not represent the policies of the American government, much less the actions of some idiots who abused prisoners in Iraq. I believe that in most areas of the world they are able to separate their feelings toward American policy from American business and products. Looking for proof? Check out France, where McDonald's sales are stronger than almost anywhere else in Europe, and the French teenagers mimic the clothes and style of their counterparts across the Atlantic. They might not always like us, where us represents the policies and actions of the U.S. government. But they usually like us, where us is individual Americans traveling overseas. And they really like us, when us represents our stuff. Wednesday, May 19, 2004
Something For Atomizer To Keep In Mind When He Plans His Wedding
Maybe it's just me, but I would think that if you're in Iraq these days you might want to reconsider the traditional celebratory gunfire after a wedding: A U.S. helicopter fired on a wedding party Wednesday in western Iraq, killing more than 40 people, Iraqi officials said. The U.S. military said it could not confirm the report and was investigating. Iraqis interviewed on the videotape said partygoers were firing in the air in traditional wedding celebration. I don't mean the downplay the seriousness of this very tragic incident. The story is not completely clear yet, and it appears very possible that U.S. forces have made a grave mistake. But on the other hand, is this "traditional" post-nuptial firing of weapons really worth the potential consequences? How many incidents like this have to happen before Iraqis realize that it just is not a real good idea to be firing live ammunition in a war zone? Maybe while we're over there trying to import democracy, we can bring along some new wedding traditions as well. Like getting stinking drunk, dancing to crappy music, and making a complete fool of yourself. You may feel like hell when you wake up the next day, but at least you wake up.
Who Are You Who Are So Wise In The Ways Of Science?
A letter to the editor that appeared in today's Star Tribune: In a room of 70 standing people, all who knew anyone affected by cancer were asked to sit. After the request, one person remained standing. These people were teenagers. Someone please tell me why we shouldn't pass the smoking ban. Someone please tell me why shouldn't pass a ban on moronic, illogical letters to the editor! Please! Unfortunately, this is the kind of muddled thinking that is regularly featured in letters to the Strib. Little details like statistical probability, causation, and correlation are not important. Try, if you can, to follow this letter writer's logic [I am withholding her name to protect her family-no one should be forced to admit to being related to anyone this dense]: Young people know other people who have cancer. Smoking has been proven to cause cancer [although the jury is still out on second hand smoke]. Therefore... Smoking should be banned in bars and restaurants in Minneapolis and St. Paul. Of course. And if a woman weighs the same as a duck she's a witch. It all makes perfect sense now. [Sigh] Perhaps we really do deserve to be represented by Mark Dayton after all.
Fleshing Out A Rant
I have about had it with the bizarre fascination, the endless prattle about every detail and the misplaced pride of a certain group of people--in this case my co-workers. I'm talking about new dog owners and I swear if I have to hear one more cutesy story about how your new black lab puppy kept you up last night I'm going to douse you with a bucket of barbecue sauce and release a box of flesh-eating ants in your cubicle. A few points: It's an animal. Does this point have to be made? It does not have a personality. It does not understand anything more than you have food and it wants some and you have attention and it wants that too. What I'm saying is that the thing ain't a kid. So quit your proud parent stories about how the beast chewed up your favorite pair of Nine Wests and piddled in your Great Room (actual detail overheard yesterday, 2:09 p.m.) and isn't that the sweetest thing? Dogs are kind of like Johnny Cash--everybody likes 'em. You don't hear quite as much anti-dog rhetoric as you do from the rabid and more socially accepted anti-cat crowd. I'm frankly not a big fan of either--after a girlfriend's cat had his way in my apartment for a week several years ago and now with the inundation of dog stories--but I'm starting to become more virulently anti-dog as I get older. So does anyone know where a guy can get a box of flesh-eating ants?
There's No Place to Hide, When Agendas Collide
Fraters reader Honest John has been watching the PBS program Colonial House and shares his observations on the creeping political agenda of government run broadcasting into proceedings: As I was watching the show on Monday, I was struck by how much of it centered around religion: going to church, observing the Sabbath, prayer, Christian teachings, etc. It was strange to see PBS airing what seemed to be such a pro-Christian program. As Monday's show progressed, we then started to see perhaps their real agenda. We learn that one of the colony's families doesn't believe in God and they really don't want to be attending Sunday services (not attending is considered a crime in the colony). Nevertheless, they attend and hear the Governor's daughter proclaim her love for God. The show then has the wife of the anti-God family give the viewers a little lecture about how bad it is for the preacher's daughter to be putting her faith in something other than herself. Oh, the Governor's daughter is so un-21st century... Why did this family sign up knowing they would have to be attending two 3-hour church services each Sunday? Why did the show's producers allow such a family to sign up? Are they really the best candidates for a show trying to recreate 17th Century life? It gets better. On Tuesday's show, we find out that many of the colonists don't want to go to church either. It gets so bad that, eventually, the Governor waives the requirement that all colonists attend Sunday services. Later on, one of the newcomers discloses to the preacher and his wife (the newcomer was staying in their home) that he's gay (this was obvious from the moment he opened his mouth). The preacher's wife embraces the gay man and they tell him that it's OK because they have a gay child! No doubt this was a "typical 17th Century scene." Afterwards, the gay man stands before the congregation and reveals his secret to the rest of the colony. The Governor described it as a sin but the damage was done; PBS's attack on Christianity was well underway. History on PBS, giving us the opportunity to look back through the ages and proudly proclaim of previous generations: "Boy, were those people stupid!" Now that's 21st century entertainment. Being charitable, perhaps given the 17th century setting, the producers thought the guy announcing he was "gay" actually meant he was just really, really happy. Which I think was a sin in and of itself among the Puritans. Hard to say what's going on there, especially since I haven't seen the program. But if they do an abortion special, where instead of a scarlet letter "A" sewn to somebody's shirt, they start a parade led by walking, talking three-foot-long felt and satin vagina, then we'll know something's up. We'll stand by for further updates from Honest John as the series progresses.
Oh The Places You'll Go
You may have noticed a few changes to the look and feel of the site lately. Hopefully, you've also noticed a few additions to our Special Features section. Newspaper Newlyweds is Saint Paul's brilliant look at the domestic life of the Star Tribune's Nick Coleman and his wife Laura Billings of the St. Paul Pioneer Press as interpreted through their columns. Talk about reading between the lines. We are also now proud to present Travels With Ralphie, a chronicle of the people and places encountered by everyone's [especially Hugh's] favorite action figure. We hope that you enjoy these recent additions and all of the Special Features. Look for more in the not too distant future.
Dumber Than A Box Of Barbara
A late surge by California's Barbara Boxer resulted in one of the closest poll outcomes we've yet seen. But the last minute momentum wasn't even to propel Boxer over the top, and Minnesota's Mark Dayton held on to win the coveted title of 'Dimmest Bulb In The Senate'. Dayton collected 39% of the vote with Boxer nipping at his heels with 36%. Patty Murray finished third with 17% and Joe Biden brought up the rear with a mere 9% of the tallies. Dayton's triumph comes just as he is basking in the glow of media attention as detailed in an article in today's Star Tribune: The CNN appearance was just one example among many of how the Iraqi prisoner-abuse scandal has elevated Dayton's profile unlike anything else in his career. Since a testy exchange with Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld at a nationally televised Senate hearing on May 7, Dayton has suddenly been discovered by the national press, receiving calls from such biggies as Time magazine and '60 Minutes.' Even the BBC called. The self-deprecating Dayton, who's in his fourth year in the Senate, said he is receiving '15 seconds of my 15 minutes [of fame], as Andy Warhol would say.'" With statements like that Dayton appears to be the smart bet to retain his newly won title for some time to come. Tuesday, May 18, 2004
The Kneebone's Connected To The...Something
I found this story via Drudge: Fidel Castro's doctor denied rumours that the president's health was ailing, saying today the 77-year-old leader is in excellent health and claiming he can live at least 140 years. Yeah, right...and, just yesterday, MY doctor told me that my liver was indistinguishable from those owned by newborns. Just to be safe, I ain't making any plans for my 140th birthday...in 2107.
Here At The Dude Ranch Above The Sea
I make a stupid face every time I purchase something. I have no idea why, but I noticed the other day that I do this during every single transaction, be it at the dry cleaners, the gas station or my local oft-visited smoke and buze shop. The face I'm talking about is after the cashier has finished the transaction and they thank me. I, being a Minnesotan, usually thank them too for no other reason than it is easy to say and wraps things up. But, I noticed yesterday that I also make a face. It's not really a smile, or even a grin, but kind of a lame, half-hearted upward movement of my lips accompanied by a blase fling of the eyebrows. I imagine I must come across as a real prick when I do this. I noticed this face yesterday when I went to the dry cleaners where all the hot 20-year-old girls work. I tend to pay a little more attention to my transactional behavior around said lovelies (as opposed to say the weird dude at the parking ramp who always makes gratuitous eye contact when giving change) and happened to catch myself in a mirror behind the counter as one of them handed me my receipt. Good lord. The face says "I don't really know what kind of face to make, or if I should smile or what, and I don't get out of the house much so here--take this one. It's all I can pull together on short notice." I wonder what kind of face Steve McQueen made when he picked up his dry cleaning?
The Postman Always Zings Twice
Yesterday I dropped by a branch office of the U.S. Postal Service near my workplace to dispatch a few parcels and pick up stamps. I was assisted in these efforts by a mustachioed, wispy haired, rapidly balding postal employee who appeared to be in his late forties, early fifties. He was helpful and polite in taking care of the packages that I was sending. When I requested for a book of stamps, he asked if American flags were okay. I nodded and then he said, "That's a good idea. You wouldn't want the neighbors to see you sending mail without a flag and get you in trouble with John Ashcroft." I hate situations like this. All I wanted to do is buy some stamps and be on my way. Small talk was not on my agenda, especially political small talk. Business transactions and political conversation should not be intermingled. Not knowing how to respond, I fell back on the tried and true nervous laughter. Of course I didn't think what he said was in the least bit funny, but I felt a societal obligation to fill the void with something. Anything. And so a quick chuckle it was. Unfortunately, this was interpreted by the postal employee as a sign that I was on his side. We were now kindred spirits, joined in our disgust for the administration and everything it stood for. He decided to take it up a notch. "Do you know who John Dean is?" Oh no. I knew where this one was going. But now I was trapped like a stray Cheeto in one of Michael Moore's stomach folds. There was no escape. "John Dean of Watergate fame?", I reluctantly replied. "Yes. He's got a book a book out now. Called...", he paused and scanned his hard drive. Searching. Searching. Too stupid to just play dumb I helped him out with the title,"Worse Than Watergate." "Yeah that's it." I was already in so deep I figured a couple more shovelfuls of dirt couldn't hurt. So I asked him if he had read Dean's tome. "No, not yet. But I understand that he says that there are eleven scandals brewing in the Bush Administration right now that are all worse than Watergate." A lame, "Really?" was all I could manage in response. What was I supposed to say? That John Dean is an opportunistic shill, willing to say anything to sell a book, and that he probably knows about as much about the inner workings of the Bush administration as Maureen Dowd? If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that you don't want to make a postal employee mad. By this time I had paid for my stamps, pocketed my change, and was looking for a way to end this conversation and get out the door. I tried a new tactic by suggesting that the Watergate break in itself wasn't all that bad, that it was the cover up that really got Nixon in trouble. I know it's a trite, clichéd view, but I was desperate and willing to try anything to reach an end game. And my change in direction threw him momentarily off balance. "Well...I don't know. Paying someone to break into an office isn't a good thing," he stammered. This was my opening. I made my break for daylight. "Yeah, maybe you're right," I admitted as I shut the conversational tap, gracefully pirouetted, and bolted for the door. The next time I hit the PO I'm wearing a Bush button. The service I receive might be lazy and surly, but it's better than having to pretend that I'm down with the Bush bashing crowd.
Polls Close Tonight
Today is your last chance to choose the U.S Senator with the least between the ears. Results will be announced tonight. Right now, Mark Dayton is still leading the pack, but Barbara Boxer has closed the gap and seems to be picking up momentum. Monday, May 17, 2004
Detached At Parturition?
Ever expanding filmmaker Michael Moore and... slime coated, legless, worm-like, slug villain Jabba the Hutt.
What We Have Heeya...
Is a failyuh to communicate. From late April to mid-September I play pick up hockey on Saturday mornings. This particular get together has been around for going on around ten years, and some of the same guys have played there the whole time. It's an hour and a half of decently paced, fun hockey and is a great way to start the day. At least it usually is. Last Saturday, late in the session, I popped free for a breakaway. Now the normal etiquette in pick up hockey is to not go after a guy too aggressively if he's in front of you on a breakaway. We're there to have fun. There are no referees so everyone operates on a type of honor system when it comes to the rules. If you're offside you leave the zone and regroup. You try not to commit penalties. You respect the other player and he respects you. Usually. As I headed down the ice on this breakaway, a guy on the other team (we split up into whites and darks each week depending what jersey you put on) started hooking me from behind. This particular fellow has a reputation for such shenanigans, and a couple of weeks prior had done the same exact thing to me in the same situation. I fought through his hooks and bore in towards the net. Then he slid his stick up higher on my body and hooked my shoulder hard. This was more than I could take. Once was bad enough. Twice was not acceptable. After I got off a weak shot that the goalie easily pushed aside, I wheeled around, slashed the stick out of the offender's hands, and advised him that conduct of that sort was not appreciated. Of course I added a few choice obscenities not appropriate for this family friendly environment. He replied lamely that his action was "part of the game" and we continued our verbal sparring for another thirty seconds or so as play continued. Then we separated and it appeared as if peace was once again at hand. I had sent my message and felt no need for further hostilities. Unfortunately the feeling was not shared by all. I was playing defense at the time and had just gotten back into position after the little dust up to defend a rush. The puck carrier, who happened to be friends with the chap who had hooked me, skated in on my side and as he came in on me I knew that he had more in mind than trying to create an offensive opportunity. When you know that you're going to get hit the best way to defend yourself is to brace and position your body to take the blow and give a little back. He lowered his shoulder and tried to knock me off my feet. I lowered my shoulder and we slammed into each other and fell to the ice. I quickly got up, skated over to him, and asked why he had felt the need to take such action, once again sprinkling my language with adult content. We were soon standing toe to toe jawing back and forth. Apparently he felt some silly chivalrous need to defend his friend, which I found a bit absurd considering that I'm all of five nine, a hundred and seventy pounds, about the same size as the guy who hooked me. I explained the rational for my earlier action and assured him that I had no quarrel with him. Of course at times such as this the testosterone if flowing freely and the tension is palpable. It's a powder keg ready to explode into violence at the slightest provocation. So I sought to defuse the situation by appealing for calm. "C'mon...", I said. As in come on let's be reasonable about the whole thing, we're here to have fun not to fight, can't we all just get along? The problem was that in hockey "come on" is not typically viewed as an invitation for discourse. Rather it is a challenge to take matters to the next level. Often it is accompanied by the waving of the hand towards the body as in "C'mon...you want a piece of me?" and followed by the question "You wanna go?", which is an invitation to engage in a fisticuffs. So when I said "C'mon" he interpreted it as just such a challenge and responded with, "C'mon? What you wanna go?" The ridiculous nature of the situation we were now in was perfectly illustrated as I had to explain to him the meaning of my c'mon. No, I don't mean c'mon I want to fight. I mean c'mon let's settle down and act rationally. Which brought him back from the edge and prevented the outbreak of a fracas. At this point a couple of other players gingerly stepped between us and we went our separate ways. We played the last few minutes without incident, and as far as I can tell, there in no lingering bad blood between any of us. Unless that guy hooks me high again at which point there will be trouble. At least then I'll know what to not to say.
Aint No Way No Man Do That To Me
The Star Tribune is always trying to stay on the edge of trendiness with its use of language. Just last week the term "Trannie" was invoked in a piece as if readers knew what that meant. Today's laugher is an account of the altercation between Anthony Peeler and Kevin Garnett in last night's Wolfes/Kings game: A Western Conference semifinal series that was already getting rather testy got ratcheted up about 15 notches the moment Peeler's left elbow went upside Garnett's head late in the third quarter. "Upside Garnett's head," as in to go upside one's head. As in "I'm going upside ya head with a bat you don't shutup, fool." Curious how many of our readers speak in this way on a regular basis. Perhaps the writer is from the South and this is a regional distinction I am not aware of. Whatever. I just found the sentence amusing and continue to marvel at what the Star Tribune does every day. Sunday, May 16, 2004
Yesterday on the Northern Alliance Radio Show, we were fortunate to have Vox Day, World Net Daily columnist and proprietor of Vox Popoli, and Joe Carter from the evangelical outpost join us to discuss the Abu Ghraib scandal and women in the military. Both gentlemen offered insightful commentary on the subjects and we look forward to future appearances from each of them.
In other show news, the logo contest rolls on. We have received a number of high quality entries so far, but are always looking for more. The contest runs until the end of the month. If you wish to enter simply e-mail your design to any one of the Northern Alliance bloggers. If all goes as planned, the show will be available for internet streaming in June. Keep your fingers crossed. Last but not least, Hugh Hewitt, apparently off his meds at the time, has asked us to fill his large, white suede shoes once again. And so on Tuesday May 25th the Northern Alliance will take the con of his nationally syndicated talk show. In addition to Hugh's regular lineup of guests, we'll have one or two special additions of our own. Labels: NARN (04-05)
As regularly reported here and on Northern Alliance Radio, Brian Lambert (entertainment columnist for the Pioneer Press) is the epitome of media bias in the Twin Cities. He's an entrenched mainstream media institution, he's assigned to a nonpolitical beat (TV and radio), and he injects highly politicized opinion into nearly every story he writes.
These particular characteristics aren't rare in the media. But what makes Lambert the most reprehensible example is that his role happens to be the paper's one and only staff expert on the media. What he says is the official voice of truth as far as the Pioneer Press is concerned. And , conveniently, he consistently denies any liberal bias exists in the media. In fact, he regularly mocks the notion. In Lambert's world, if any media bias exists, it's of a conservative nature. Keep this in mind when you read this Lambert paragraph. It's from an article congratulating the mainstream media for playing up the Iraqi prisoner abuse story while downplaying the beheading of Nick Berg: In a world saturated with cameras, this cavalcade of shocking imagery isn't stopping anytime soon, if ever. But the context, the war on Iraq and the response by terrorist groups, meant the imagery was indisputably newsworthy. Lambert shamelessly inserting his own opinion that the US is to blame for being the aggressors in the war on terrorism, and the terrorists are just reasonably reacting to our provocation. It's hard to believe any American could feel this way. Sure, you hear radical academics, far left politicians, and Yasser Arafat- types disseminating this line of morally-confused BS. But, to have this theory slyly slipped into the entertainment column of my local newspaper? Call me crazy, but that seems like a certain political bias in reporting. Knowing how Lambert feels about the war (America started it, the terrorists are now responding), how can anyone then take seriously his hyperbolic criticisms of local media outlets who have taken a stance contrary to his own? As an example, here?s his even handed, dispassionate description of the decision by the KQRS morning show to play the Nick Berg beheading audio: A local example of calculated cloddishness was KQRS polling its radio listeners Wednesday morning on whether they wanted to hear the death screams on the beheading video, something every reputable news outlet refused to broadcast. Not surprisingly, a 4-to-1 majority of "The Morning Show's" fans were eager for it. In case you wonder where KQ is coming from with a stunt like that, the station's Web site directs you to links to the site of Sen. James Inhofe, R-Okla., who made official Tuesday the current talk radio line that real patriots are "outraged by the outrage" over the abuse photos. I suppose it's just a coincidence that KQRS and its listeners generally support the troops and the US efforts in the war on terrorism, yet Lambert feels they are "calculated clods" who are "eager" to hear a death scream "stunt"? Since I'm listening to a replay of the scholarly, well-reputed Dennis Prager right now on the Patriot (a show on which he also played the shocking, clarifying Berg audio), I have to wonder at Lambert's assertion that it's "something every reputable news outlet refused to broadcast." Does Lambert not know Dennis Prager aired this audio? Or is he slyly slurring conservative Dennis Prager and all other Conservative radio shows that played it as ill-reputed? I think we know the answer to that. Day in and day out he's unabashedly attempting to score political points for the Democratic party and running down conservatives, all under the guise of being a journalist, with the official sanction of the supposed objective filter of information that is the daily local newspaper. Lambert's a fraud and he's proud of it. I submit that his self-knowledge is betrayed in the smirking countenance featured in his column photo. Simply put, Brian Lambert's career as a journalist is a bad joke that never ends. Labels: Media-Local (02-04) Friday, May 14, 2004
If It's Not Funny Just Try Screaming Louder
Tom e-mails to ask, Not sure if you were going to write about this or not, but did you read Neal Justin's column regarding un-famous comedian Lewis Black? I did read it, but frankly I just didn't have the energy to comment. Tom however is raring to go and so I will gladly yield the floor: This past week, I was traveling and the hotel had HBO as a selection. In one of their between presentation breaks (ten to twenty minutes of self-congratulations for HBO on how award winningly edgy they are) was an ad for Lewis Blacks' comedy special. It shows him telling a bunch of children that their government is nothing but a front for big oil and other such "on the edge" and "dangerous" comments. I surfed on fairly quickly because "edgy" in my view would be John Stossel doing an hour on how ill served we the people are by incompetent bureaucrats in our government. Today, Neal Justin covers the aforementioned Mr. Black. Neal doesn't give him credit for being very original... "You've heard the routines before: I hate airplanes; I hate Bush; I hate cold weather. The jokes aren't inspired; the delivery is"... All I could think of is The Simpson's Krusty the Klown. This over-the-hill hack (Krusty or Black) gets cancelled and makes a comeback as an "angry" comedian. But I loved this line from the column as well... "If that doesn't make you laugh, at least it'll wake you up, which is more than I can say for much of the comedy scene over the past decade. For too long we were lulled by the decaffeinated humor of Jerry Seinfeld, Ellen DeGeneres and Jeff Foxworthy. They're clever enough, and are still headliners, but you can't help feeling their acts could have been heard by our grandparents, sitting in front of the phonograph with a mug of chamomile tea"... Yeah, Neal, if we are not shocked by someone screaming bad words, we are not entertained.
Kicked Up The Dial
Air America lands new Twin Cities base: Locally, only "The O'Franken Factor" airs on WMNN (1330 AM) as part of a liberal programming package assembled by the Minnesota Production Network. However, MPN announced Friday that it is finalizing the purchase of Shakopee-based KSMM (1530), where its programming (including "O'Franken," Ed Schultz and Wendy Wyld's "The High Ground") will start broadcasting on May 24, according to co-founder Janet Robert. The seller? Starboard Media, the Catholic radio network which is assuming control of WMNN at the end of the month. Starboard's "Relevant Radio" programming currently airs on KSMM.
That's A Wrap
Here's today's Jeopardy! Power Players recap from Shawn: A game as it should be. And Christie Whitman! Wow. She put on a clinic on playing Jeopardy. My man Russert was left in the dust, with Mr. Smiley. By my reckoning, Whitman has hit the highest total of play money all week. A fitting end to Power Players week. With an addendum: Okay, I should have said with Whitman that she had won the most money at the end of the Jeopardy! and Double Jeopardy! rounds. Her incorrect question at the end of Final Jeopardy! brought her down, below maybe some others. I wish the website would keep track of this stuff for me...
Selected Not Elected
Long time liberal activist and Barbara Boxer supporter, CCW encourages you to vote for his candidate, or face years of whining and carping about the election being "stolen".
Double Jeopardy!
We now have two Jeopardy! Power Player correspondents providing updates on the action. For a straight-forward recap from Thursday let's start with newcomer Timothy: Al Franken started with control of the board. One of the categories was "Presidents on SNL" (that's not quite how it was phrased; I hope you have other correspondents). He graciously took only the first answer for 200 before moving to another category, but Keith Olberman foolishly elected to return at his first convenience, at which point Franken cleaned up the topic, including the first daily double (which, you'll be happy to learn, he made a true daily double), to enter the first commercial break at Franken - $2400, Gretchen - $200, and Keith - $400. When I returned, they were going into Final Jeopardy and the scores were Franken - $8000, Gretchen - in the hole, and Keith - $7200, so that SNL plant was important. The Final Jeopardy question was in the category "Americana": "Aaron Burr's daughter and son-in-law went here for their honeymoon, starting a long tradition". For some reason, Gretchen was still in the game with $1800, apparently because Jeopardy is no longer the unforgiving Coliseum of Intellectual Champions it used to be. All contestants got the right answer, Niagara Falls, although, as Franken helpfully pointed out, Keith spelled it like Viagra. Gretchen bet nothing, hoping for a three-way flame-out. Franken can do math, and bet enough to clinch the win assuming Keith got the answer right. Regular reader and self proclaimed Jeopardy! freak, Shawn shares his opinions on the action: Gretchen Carlson finished third, Olbermann second. Al Franken might win the game, finishing with the most amount of money. Ended up with $15,201 which was more than even the esteemed Anderson Cooper did. But to a Jeopardy! fan, Franken is a big loser. Jeopardy! has rules and decorum. Okay, it's a celebrity edition, they're playing with Monopoly money for charity, so who cares, right? When it's this egregious, I do. Franken had to make an editorial comment after each and every question, or try to be funny. Why? The object of the game is to move through the answers and questions in a quick, orderly fashion. It could have been done, as it was throughout the week, without any of this pap that he had. Also, prior to the first commercial break, every time Franken gave a correct question, the audience, or a contingent in the audience, would applaud. There was no applause for correct answers from Olbermann or Ms. Carlson. Besides, applause after each question is verboten. The offenders must have been properly admonished at the break, as it did not continue. Or, perhaps, and this is how I like to think of it, the guilty were beaten and then forcibly removed from The Hall and tossed on their asses into the street. Tomorrow is Russert, Whitman and Smiley. My money is on Russert. The way Air America is going Franken might soon be appearing on the regular edition of the show. Bad checks don't pay the bills.
My Dinner with John Fund, Escargot, and Democratic Social Policy
What do escargot, virulent socialism, and the Wall Street Journal's John Fund have in common? Other than the enduring love and devotion of the French, you probably thought nothing at all. But Fraters contributor the Warrior Princess connects the dots in her first hand account of staring each in the face during a recent dinner in St. Paul: A few weeks ago I had the privilege of having dinner at a lovely restaurant with some mighty important people who were in town for an election law symposium sponsored by the Federalist Society at the University of St. Thomas School of Law. Being raised in a family where dining at Shakey's Pizza was the closest I came to fine cuisine, I was looking forward to enjoying the more refined tastes of civilized society, especially with such an esteemed group of dinner companions. Much to my amusement, I was seated next to the eminently talented and highly entertaining John Fund of the Wall Street Journal. When it came time to order, I opened my menu to find a most curious item catch my eye: escargot. It was one of those things I had only referenced glibly as I tried to force feed some of our backyard "wildlife" to my little brother or experienced vicariously through characters in sitcoms or cartoons who made the dreadful mistake of ordering something they'd never heard of in a French restaurant. (Editor's note: the finest example of escargot-related sitcom hijinx is the Steve Martin classic "The Jerk," and this reaction upon being confronted with the consequences of ordering something that sounded sophisticated: "Waiter there are snails on her plate. Now get them out of here before she sees them! You would think that in a fancy restaurant at these prices you could keep the snails off the food! There are so many snails there you can't even see the food! Now take those away and bring us those melted cheese sandwich appetizers you talked me out of!?) I don't know if I ever really believed that people actually ate snails willfully, but lo and behold, to my shock and amazement, there it was plainly on the menu. The infamous, French delicacy of epic proportions, escargot. Not yet sure if I wanted to let on to the group that I wasn't accustomed to the finer side of life, I decided to be sly, and survey the dinner selections of some of my eating mates discretely. Ever so causally, I asked my companions what they were getting for their first course. The answers were the expected green salad, goat cheese salad, green salad, that is until the woman across from me answered "escargot." The horror!?! Someone I knew was actually going to be eating snails!?! I turned to John Fund and nonchalantly mentioned that I'd never eaten escargot before. Then John Fund proceeded to start raving about the succulent buttery sweet snailness that is escargot, and said that I simply must try it! I started to wonder if I'd really been missing something. John Fund thought it utterly untenable that a person such as myself, having never had the privilege of eating snails, should be deprived of the experience. He assured me that if for some reason I did not thoroughly enjoy my snails, he would gladly eat them so they did not go to waste. I was like the kid on the Monday Afternoon Special on teen peer pressure, the woman across from me was doing it, John Fund does it all the time, it must not be all that bad right? right? So ... I ordered the snails. When the plate containing my first course arrived, I was perplexed. I was given a little tiny fork, and a plate with seven small pools of garlic and butter. I was about to ask John Fund where the snails were when I observed the escargot lover across from me dip her baby fork into the butter pool and stir it around until she came out with a plump, juicy, butter-laden snail which she promptly popped in her mouth. She then proceeded to dip her bread in the leftover pool to soak up the remaining snaily marinade. I am of a strong constitution, and not to be outdone I followed suit. Grasping my fork, I picked my pool of conquest, groped with my fork and plucked out my unsuspecting prey. Staring at him for a moment, I had to once again question, what sick bastard decided it was a good idea to eat snails? Nevertheless, I inserted the snail into my mouth and clamped down. The snail itself was of no consequence. Chewy but not rubbery, and bite sized. I could discern no flavor inherent to the snail, only the accompanying garlic and butter tantalized the tongue. Not gagging, but still not quite understanding the appeal, I took a stab at another. Chewy, but not rubbery, garlicky and buttery. Before I felt compelled to try a third, I finally realized the game, and gladly surrendered my remaining snails to Mr. Fund which he immensely enjoyed. Despite the peer pressure, upon experiencing them myself, I?m forced to conclude the mystique of escargot is a myth. There is nothing inherently special about the gastronomical properties of the snail. The snail is simply the unsuspecting vessel satisfying the eaters' lust for garlic and butter. Too prideful to admit the vice, the primary proponents of eating snails, the French, mask it by trying to convince the world that the real reason you eat the escargot is the delicate snail and not one?s craven thirst for sweet cream and pungent spices. And somehow, they've gotten the whole world to believe there is something really good about eating a snail when every natural instinct in the human psyche says you do not eat slimy, rubbery creatures with antennae that eat dirt and leave a slime trail wherever they go. Speaking of slime trails, in the coming campaign, I expect the rhetoric of the Democratic Party to once again turn to the familiar class warfare pitting the poor against the rich in the epic battle over taxes and social welfare programs. The Democratic Party would have us believe there is something inherently good about the welfare state, that it is actually a good thing. Just like, you guessed it - the escargot. (Warning - extended metaphor approaching fast). That the raw political power, the pool of garlic and butter, that comes from an entire class of people dependent on your political party being in power for their government subsidies is simply an unnecessary element that happens to accompany the tasty snail of government programs. But the truth of the matter is, the current social policy of the Democratic Party is destructive. It perpetuates a culture of entitlement and a victim mentality among the nation's poor, and does not elevate the lower classes like the principles of ingenuity, hard work, and initiative do. No matter what way you package it, we all know there's something wrong with eating snails, and we all know there is something wrong with people not taking personal responsibility for their lives and instead expecting the government to provide for them. Democrats don't even care about elevating the plight of the nations poor. Their real lust is keeping their power base stable and completely dependent upon them and their big government. So when the rhetoric starts pouring in about the rich not paying their fair share and the need for more money for social programs, let's all remember today's object lesson. Escargot, is really just snails, doused in garlic and butter, Democrats promote class warfare to keep their power base stable and dependent for generations to come. And John Fund? Though not deceived by the Democratic party, has bought into the Frenchies lie about eating snails hook, line, and sinker. John Fund, sucker for the hype. Remember, you heard it here first. Thursday, May 13, 2004
Too Many Protest Singers, Not Enough Protest Songs
The caption to this photo reads : Virginia Rodino, from Baltimore, of the Shirts Off Anti-War Coalition holds on to Adam Eidinger, from Baltimore, of the DC Statehood Green Party during a protest against the treatment of prisoners in Iraq. I'm still waiting for confirmation that Virginia subsequently hacked off Adam's head with a dull knife to protest al Qaeda's treatment of Nick Berg.
Boxer On The Ropes
Have you no pride California? Yes, Mark Dayton is an inarticulate, usually incoherent, babbling idiot. But is he really less intellectually gifted than your own Barbara Boxer? Is that even possible? Right now Dayton is rumblin', stumblin', and bumblin' away in our poll with 44% of the vote, while Boxer is a distant second with 31%. Barbara needs your help. Actually she needs so much help, in so many areas that she's really quite beyond hope. But you can make a difference here. Remember her campaign slogan: She ain't none too bright Jessica Simpson could outfox her In her attic there's no light Vote Barbara Boxer
Well, not exactly, but we did have her on as guest for a full hour on the NARN show and have promoted her excellent book quite extensively. Now Myrna Blyth will be writing a weekly column at NRO. Her inagural effort is on Margaret Thatcher.
Labels: Media-National (02-06)
Missing Fetus, I Mean Baby Alert
This just posted by the Star Tribune: Minneapolis police are asking the public to help in a search for a baby believed to have been born in the last couple of days and reportedly discarded in a trash bin. The baby was born in an apartment in the 1500 block of Portland Av. S. Police were asking people in the area to check their properties, including trash bins and yards. It wasn't clear if the baby was born alive, police said. It was also not clear if the police checked the trash bins across the street from the apartment at Planned Parenthood.
Voting Under the Influence
From the Pioneer Press, a letter to the editor, entitled "All Voices Need to be Heard": I was a volunteer at the Kerry event at the Convention Center on May 3. I purchased a Kerry yard sign. As I was running to catch the bus, a homeless person ran after me and said he wanted to read what my sign said. A note of caution for the audience. When you're in the neighborhood surrounding the Minneapolis Convention Center, and a homeless guy starts to run after you, he's typically not looking to engage in political discussion. Chances are he's looking to commit a random act of violence or to get your money in order to facilitate the abuse of his substance of choice. Or he's looking to escape the circling Lexus which signifies that Nick Coleman is on deadline. Luckily, this particular homeless guy was apparently only interested in good citizenship: He read it, gave me the thumbs up and said, "Anybody but Bush." I took the Kerry 2004 button off my jacket, and he put it on proudly and his face lit up with pride. A warm moment for all involved I'm sure. But I'm not sure some cheap sense of "pride" condescendingly bestowed upon him was this street person's most urgent need at the moment. I suspect he's got enough deadly sins burdening his soul already, and now he's full of pride too? Not good. I suppose now he'll be spending all his time beaming with pride while thinking special thoughts about the magic of a John Kerry administration, instead of thinking about more relevant topics, like say, sobering up, taking a shower, getting a job. Seems to me, the only person really benefiting from this transaction was the Kerry campaigner. He gets the rare pleasure of meeting a member of a Democratic trophy victim group (and he doesn't get assaulted or robbed), then he treats him like a child while doing nothing to actually help him, then goes home to write a congratulatory letter about himself to the local newspaper. Now everybody is proud, of themselves. However, the letter ends on an ominous note: Truly, in this campaign all voices need to be heard. My only concern is where will this gentleman be able to vote? I am not sure of his address. JIM HANSEN, Minneapolis Fear not Jim, in Minnesota, homeless guys get to vote (and there are entire organizations devoted to making sure they do). This particular "gentleman" does not need an address to vote. In fact, he doesn't need any documentation that he actually lives anywhere. All he needs is someone to vouch for him. A person to claim that he lives in the precinct where he wishes to vote. The law allows someone to vouch that you are regularly seen living under a bridge or sleeping on a particular patch of sidewalk and that's your residence. I quote the relevant section of Minnesota Statute 200.031: The residence of a single individual is in the precinct where the individual lives and usually sleeps So, as long as you're living and sleeping within the boundaries of said precinct, consider the franchise exercised (cha-ching). But before we all get too excited about the effect the swing homeless vote might have on the upcoming election, be aware there's another law that may stop this movement in its tracks. According to Minnesota statute 204c.06, subdivision 7: Use of intoxicating liquor; prohibition: During the time an election is being held it is a misdemeanor to bring intoxicating liquor or 3.2 percent malt liquor into a polling place, to drink intoxicating liquor or 3.2 percent malt liquor in a polling place, or to be intoxicated in a polling place. The election judges shall not permit an obviously intoxicated individual to vote or remain in the polling place for any purpose. So, according to the state government, all voices need to be heard, except for one, those voices marinated in whiskey. Now I ain't no fancy civil rights lawyer, but to me that sounds like a clear violation of equal protection laws. Since the piss drunk are a natural Democratic constituency, I expect the Kerry campaign to take up this cause as well. Maybe soon we'll be hearing the cries of "disenfranchisement!" going up among the affected population . I just hope the fact that they'll be saying it as "dishenfrankizemend" doesn't confuse the issue further.
She Lost On Jeopardy!, Baby
A Jeopardy Power Players update from Shawn: Well, Ari won today. Ashleigh ended up with $0.00, and Aaron Brown played well too. Today's match was like a T-wolves game, plenty of lead changes and at the end, Ari came in. But Ashleigh came across as the real winner. 1. She's Canadian, eh. 2. She babysat for Bobby Hull. This was revealed when the answer was "In 3. When, in the Double Jeopardy! round, she got the Daily Double, she bet it all, making it a true daily double. That's my kind of girl. I'm a Jeopardy! freak, and I hate seeing these pansies come on, get a daily double and wager a mere $1000 or someting with it. Had she gotten the question right, she'd have been still trailing Fleischer, but not by much. Wednesday, May 12, 2004
Looking for a little light hearted distraction from the worries of the tumultuous times that we now find ourselves in, I cracked open the Arts and Entertainment section of last Sunday's Star Tribune.
And came across an article from Kristin Tillotsen titled Flaming Film Festival sheds light on gay experience. Hmmm...could be interesting. Being homosexual no longer automatically marks a person as an alternative-lifestyler. Alternative-lifestyler? Sounds like some kind of horrible marketing label. "You see, our product has particular appeal to the alternative-lifestyler." So how can gays, lesbians and trannies yearning for a little counterculture action get relief from all that relentless 'Queer Eye for the Straight Guy' mainstreaming? It ain't easy being queer these days you know. After all those years of being on the outside edges of society, gays are now not only being tolerated, but openly celebrated in the popular culture. Those gays who previously reveled in the outsider role are having a difficult time adjusting. They're squirming uncomfortably like teenagers getting a hug from mom as she drops them at the mall. These would-be rebels seem to have lost their cause. By the way, maybe it's just me, but when I hear the word trannie, what usual comes to mind is auto, not private parts. By skipping straight -- or some other way -- to the Flaming Film Festival at Intermedia Arts. The fourth annual fest, running Wednesday through next Sunday, features its usual mix of low-budget bawdiness, in-your-face politics and arty experimentation with plenty of 'we're here; we're queer' attitude on top. Low-budget bawdiness? In-your-face politics? Arty experimentation? With an extra big helping of aggressive gay 'tude slathered on top? Honey, get dressed, grab the kids, and start the car. This is can't miss material we're talking about here. One look at a short film like "Iraqtion," Minneapolis filmmaker Piper Vision's commentary on President Bush and the Sept. 11 attacks using a seldom-seen part of her anatomy, and you know this isn't Disneyland (although a revamped Lady from "Lady and the Tramp" does make a memorable appearance in another short). You know the Left has often been accused of talking out of their asses when it comes to Bush, but this is a whole new ballgame altogether. Talk about thinking outside the box. "I think it's great that young people get to see positive gay images in the mainstream media, but 'Will & Grace' doesn't reflect the people I know," said Lisa Ganser, the festival's director. "I don't drive an SUV or get my nails done. There's a lot of activism in the queer community, and that's more what we're trying to celebrate. That's a pretty fine line there isn't it Lisa? Too butchy to get your nails done, but not butchy enough to drive a truck? One of Ganser's favorite submissions is the short "Operation Invert," Tara Mateik's comparison of botox treatments and gender-reassignment surgery. You know I had my heart set on seeing Troy, but how can it compete with split screen shots of faces getting jammed with needles and privates clipped, snipped, and stitched? A title with broader appeal is the hourlong John Scagliotti documentary "Dangerous Living: Coming Out in the Developing World," a reminder that as gays and lesbians in the United States fight for the right to marry and to be ordained, their counterparts in other countries have more pressing concerns -- such as trying to avoid being stoned, raped or jailed for their sexual orientation. The arrest of the Cairo 52, a group of men in Egypt who were put on trial for the crime of being gay, was a rallying point in the 1990s for organized international gay-rights demonstrations. The report points out that while homosexuality is often demonized as a vice of the Western world in Asia and the Middle East, depictions of gay unions in ancient art and history disprove that theory. I imagine the documentary will focus on the benefits to all citizens, in particular minorities, of living in Western style liberal democracies, and how the spread of such freedoms around the world should be encouraged. Yeah, right. A panel discussion on what it's like to be "queer and not from here" will follow Thursday's screening of "Dangerous Living." "We're hearing from some people that the film is more negative than what they've actually experienced, so we're going to talk about that," Ganser said. Really? You mean that having your neighbor refer to you as "the girls" instead of lesbians isn't the same as getting stoned, raped, or jailed? The Flaming Film Festival leaves no opportunity for dissension unfulfilled. It just wouldn't be flamin' any other way. How refreshing. Because God knows in John Ashcroft's Amerika opportunities for dissent are becoming increasingly rare. Once again the Star Tribune leaves no opportunity to showcase and promote alternative-lifestylers unfulfilled. It just wouldn't be flamingly liberal any other way. Labels: That's Entertainment
The Luxury Of Focus
Hugh Hewitt has posted a letter from a Marine in Iraq to his dad. Don't miss it.
As everyone knows, the final episode of Friends aired last week. The Doubtlessette invited me over to her friend's house who was having a Friends Party, as many in the country did. Was I excited about the episode? Not really. Did I go? Of course. And I had a fine time, not necessarily because the show was great--it wasn't--but because it gave the Doubtlessette a chance to show me off as a Normal Guy Who Can Play Nice to her friend. And keeping the girl happy always produces positive results downstream.
So I went to the party, I drank a couple of Miller High Lifes and I played nice. What I didn't do was make snarky comments about the sociological implications of the show or carp about how it has lowered the standards for TV as many of my compadres in the conservative world were doing on that day, led by this piece. It wasn't as good as Seinfeld? This is a point that actually has to be made? And the characters are "pathologically selfish and inane"? More insight? Bitching about Friends just comes across to most people as stodgy, uptight and just old. It was a decent show, good enough to curl up with your girl on a Thursday night and enjoy your time together--and that is as far as anyone ever needs to analyze it. This shouldn't be who we are as conservatives. The trashing of popular culture is really something we should leave to the left. Let THEM sniff their noses at things regular Americans enjoy like pop music, network television, chain restaurants and SUVs. We should spend OUR time hammering THEM, not picking fights with television programs. As I get older, I'm realizing more and more that the majority of our popular culture ain't that bad at all. I used to have much more of an adversarial view of My Tastes Vs. Everyone Else's: people who went to major Hollywood blockbusters were saps, if you liked Gloria Estefan you were stupid, if you ate at TGI Fridays you were a clone, etc. It was simply juvenile and I'm fortunate I grew out of it. I can now go to the major chain restaurants and enjoy a meal without thinking about it (and btw, anyone who says they HATE the food at chain restaurants is full of it--it may not be your favorite, but you can't enjoy a cheeseburger? Come on) I can watch American Idol and not sneer or listen to a Three Doors Down song without feeling like I should put in Pet Sounds. It's a hell of a freedom to just be a Regular American. Labels: Culture
Who Really Is #100 When It Comes To Gray Matter?
Last Friday's rumbling, bumbling, stumbling performance by Minnesota Senator Mark Dayton as he attempted (and failed miserably) to score political points at the expense of Donald Rumsfeld and General Richard Meyers during their Senate testimony on the Iraqi prisoner abuse story, led many to conclude that Dayton is either mentally unstable, intellectually challenged, or both. Some speculated that he was the bottom of the Senate's barrel when it comes to matters of intelligence. But there is a lot of competition in that area, and so we have decided to let our readers determine once and for all (or at least until the next election) who is the Senate's ultimate intellectual lightweight. We've narrowed the choices down to four candidates. Along with Dayton we have the pride of Delaware, and patron saint of plagiarism, Joe Biden. And of course, we have to include a woman oft described as "dumb as a box of rocks", California's own Barbara Boxer. Last but not certainly not least, let's hear it for Washington state's Patty 'At Least Under Osama The Schools Started On Time' Murray.
Northern Alliance Charity Update
You may recall that back in January we solicited donations to buy supplies for the Misercordia Orphanage in Chihuahua, Mexico. You can find more details on the fundraising effort and on our February visit here. Yesterday a representative from my place of employment visited the orphanage to present a contribution from the company so that they can get a new septic system installed. On May 19th I will be traveling to Chihuahua on a business trip and plan to stop by the orphanage and get an update on how things are going. If you would like to assist our efforts by making a donation or to learn more, go here.The needs of these children are many and every little bit really does make a difference.
Our Babe's On Jeopardy!
Long time Fraters reader Shawn has been kind enough to keep me regularly updated via e-mail on the JEOPARDY! Power Players Competition that kicked off this week. You may recall that when the lineup for the special showdown was announced, we conducted polls to determine who would win the most money, and, more importantly, who was the hottest contestant. On Monday Tucker Carlson staged a late rally to pass Peggy Noonan and win the day. According to Shawn, Bob Woodward was doing his best Mark Dayton impersonation. Here's Shawn's recap of Tuesday's show: Maria Bartiromo: A doorknob. Holy crap. I don't think that she just has a slow thumb. I was giving her the benefit of the doubt (slow thumb, or using the marker as a signaling button) until she answered "Computer worm" where "Earth Worm" was the right question. And it was obvious, the answer was about moles, digging, eating these types of worms or something. She was like a supermodel, or Jessica Simpson. Lots to look at, nothing between the ears. Kweisi Mfume: Smarter than Maria, but no whiz-kid. Anderson Cooper: One smart cookie, he won hands down, had about 12 grand going into final jeopardy, but got the wrong question at the end. Today the man that our readers picked as the most likely to scoop up the big ching, Ari Fleischer, competes with the woman our readers chose as the most likely to scoop up compliments for her looks, Ashleigh Banfield, and the man most likely to have to bend over to scoop up his toupee, CNN's Aaron Brown. Here's the latest from Shawn: Today, the winner and ever lovely Ashleigh Banfield takes the stage, against Ari Fleischer and Aaron Brown. Tomorrow must be "Minnesota Day". The lovely Gretchen Carlson faces off against Keith Olbermann and the ever hated Al Franken. Friday Russert plays, and I think he is a damn smart cookie. He faces off against Christine Todd Whitman and Tavis Smiley. Tuesday, May 11, 2004
A Little Perspective Please
It goes without saying that the abuse of Iraqi prisoners was abhorrent and is indefensible. But a few points should be kept in mind: 1. The people being held in the camps were not randomly plucked off the street. Of course not all are guilty, but most of them were there for a reason (I'm not buying the Red Cross claim that 70% to 90% of those detained are innocent.) Again I'm not saying it was right, but if you listen to folks like Ted Kennedy you would think that we were indiscriminately abusing Iraqi civilians. 2. There isn't a real cut and dried definition of torture. I know that some human rights groups have tried to put it into words, but two people can easily look at the same action and come to different conclusions about it. So far most of what has come out of Iraq is not what I would consider torture. This is torture: "I was in terrible, terrible pain. They were using the rope trick. The Vietnamese -- we called it the Vietnamese rope trick and that was to take the arms behind your back, tie your hands together, tie them up real tight and then rotate your arms behind and over your shoulder until your shoulders dislocate. Well this one is already broken and dislocated so that was easy. And I remember this one starting over the top and I can remember the cracking and breaking and my elbow also dislocated. I was in terrible pain. Trying to scream. Wishing I could die. I finally said I can't live. I can't live another day." 3. Right now all we're getting is one part of the story: the abuse of the prisoners. What about the lives that were saved as a result of this abuse? Once again, I'm not condoning it, but, if this conduct was intended to break down prisoners before interrogation and make it easier to extract information, it seems logical to believe that it worked in some cases, and likely saved the lives of American soldiers and/or Iraqis. Let's hear about it. If the American public were to know that say forty, maybe fifty American lives (I'm just speculating here) were saved as a result of this behavior, it might cause us to view these events in a little different light. In order to judge what happened in the prisons in Iraq properly, we need to consider the complete context of the story. Critics of the Bush administration like to chide the President when he uses terms like "evil doers" that the world is not so easily viewed in terms of black and white, rather that it is more realistically a murky gray. But with the prison abuse story the fog has seemingly lifted from their eyes and all is now perfectly clear. The United States is completely in the wrong and any and all who seek to reinforce this view or benefit from it are right. The issue is not that simple. The mistreatment of the prisoners in Iraq crossed a line and those responsible (at all levels) should be held to account for it. But we are at war and at times, we will need to push matters right up to that line and should not be afraid to do so.
Our Logo Blows Contest
The contest to come up with a new Northern Alliance Radio Network log continues. Here's what we have now: 
A little too Fredo-ish for such a highly regarded show don't you think? James Lileks described it as looking like "something composed with MS Paint 1.0", which according to the logo's creator Mitch Berg, was frighteningly close to the truth. From now until the end of the month we'll be taking entries from our readers and listeners. You can submit your designs to any of the participating Northern Alliance members. The prize package for the winning entry will include some premo merchandise from AM-1280 The Patriot, as well as other yet to be revealed delights. Enter early. Enter often. Monday, May 10, 2004
Vox Day darkens my day by speculating that our fair state may one day fall under the curse of Senator Franken:
Considering that Alice Franken - who still hasn't been so good as to answer my call to fisticuffs, hence the appellation - was not offering anything you couldn't hear on NPR, read in the New York Times, or watch on the ABCNNBCBS cabal, the network never had a chance. Of course, one hardly expects a group composed entirely of fluff-head leftists to understand the complexities of the law of supply and demand. I'd like to luxuriate in the joys of what Jonah Goldberg calls Frankenfreude as Air America loses executives and misses payrolls. But that's not possible now that Alice is bruiting about the idea of running for the Senate. In any other state, that might be laughable, but not in Minnesota. It's the one state where he could actually win. Do the words "Gov. Jesse Ventura" ring a bell? First Paul Wellstone, now Mark Dayton, and in the future Al Franken? How much can one state bear? Labels: Politics-Local (04-05)
This Isn't Your Father's Wehrmacht
Joe Carter at evengelical outposts notes the hassenfeffer-like reaction of German peacekeepers in Kosovo. Are these some of the foreign troops that John Kerry believes can help out in Iraq?
Long suffering Jay Larson from AM-1280 The Patriot, fresh off an extravagant junket to Washington D.C., has finally taken his feet off his desk long enough to promise us that the winner of the Northern Alliance Radio Network logo contest will receive a bounty of special Patriot merchandise as part of the prize package. Now if we can just get Hugh to pony up a signed copy of his upcoming book...
Labels: NARN (04-05)
Nice Mammatus!
Elizabeth e-mails to inform us that the unusual clouds that I saw yesterday are technically known as "mammatus" clouds because they resemble the mammary glands of mammals.
Reality TV Canuck Style
This sounds like a show that I'd like to see: Coming to CBC in September is Making the Cut, hockey's version of reality television. At stake are six spots at NHL training camps in 2005. And, yes, one is with the Leafs. If you're over 19 - man or woman, figure skater or midnight shinny star - and don't have a professional hockey contract, you can take your best shot at winning a spot as Mats Sundin's linemate. The only downside? But Tie Domi wannabes need not apply - players who fight will be ejected from the competition.
The Minneapolis city council, worried that their brethren across the river in St. Paul might eclipse them in intrusive government action for the "public good", is now considering a smoking ban in bars and restaurants as well. Captain Ed will be glad to know that he has a new ally in his support for the ban. Yes, the Star Tribune editorial board has linked hands with Captain Ed on this noble crusade to limit people's freedoms "for their own good":
The Twin Cities should take the leap, no matter what happens at the Capitol. Everyone would be better off for it, whether they realize it now or not. Whew. This is going to make things much easier for me. Rather than having to weigh the risks of second hand smoke myself when deciding if I want to go to a bar or restaurant that permits smoking, I now have the good folks at the Strib looking out for my well-being and making that decision for me. Life will be so much smoother and safer without all those pesky choices and freedoms getting in the way. Thanks Star Tribune. Now if you can just do something about all that loud music... Labels: Nanny State Sunday, May 09, 2004
Stormy Weather
We had a little excitement here in the Twin Cities today when a patch of thunderstorms blew through town bringing heavy rain, high winds, hail, and even spawning a small tornado or two. No serious damage was done, but the local television stations were in red alert mode, with lots of blather about hooks, tails, and cells. Here are a few pics of the unusual, bulbous clouds that rolled in after the storm had passed.  Clouds Two Clouds Three Clouds Four Saturday, May 08, 2004
All Apologies
Yesterday was Donald Rumsfeld?s turn to placate the baying hounds of humiliation from the press and the Left with his own apology for the abuse of Iraqi prisoners. I suppose the transgressions were egregious enough, and the population of interest (Arabs) hypersensitive and ill-informed enough to justify this reaction. On the whole, I agree with Victor Davis Hanson?s summation of how this should be handled (via NRO): We have to ... explain to an exasperated American people why other people hate us for who we are rather than what we do; and apologize sincerely and forcefully once ? not gratuitously and zillions of times ? for the rare transgression. But I must say that this whole business of Presidents and Secretaries of Defense apologizing during a time of war for the actions of sixth generation subordinates to be strange. Maybe I?m a cold-hearted snake, but prior to the press framing the entire story as a drama over who will apologize and when, it never even occurred to me that the highest executives in our government would apologize. Simply stated, it?s a childish expectation. But the national press, and locally, the Star Tribune, began setting the agenda days ago with scream headlines and indignant stories (news stories mind you, not editorials) specifically about how Bush hasn?t apologized yet. This from the opening paragraph of a May 6 Star Tribune lead article (reprint from the AP): There was no apology, no "I'm sorry," when President Bush set out to defuse Arab anger about the abuse and death of Iraqi prisoners. Instead, he fell back on Washington's time-tested mistakes-are-made formula. And here?s the opening sentence from the lead article on May 5: Acknowledging mistakes but stopping short of an apology, President Bush told the Arab world on Wednesday that Americans are appalled by the abuse and deaths of Iraqi prisoners at the hands of U.S. soldiers. The lead sentences from the lead stories about Iraq. Do you start to get the sense the press had a predetermined agenda? That a Presidential apology was THE critical part of this story and the lack of one, yet another page 1 scandal? Absolutely ridiculous. As I said, for me in the real world, prior to seeing this press advocacy, I never even considered it for a moment. Yes, the administration needs to investigate and take stern action against those responsible, and make changes to lessen the likelihood that it happens again. But having the President and Rumsfeld mouth the feel good magic words of of a therapeutic mediation session? To quiver their chins in front of our enemies and natter on about feeling their pain? What is the point of that? Besides reinforcing liberals? world view that good intentions are enough to overcome the evils that lurk in the hearts of some men, there?s only one reason for the press to attempt to bully an apology out of the President and other high ranking officials. That is, to lay the foundation for retribution. Bush and Rumsfeld apologized, therefore they were negligent in their duties. They admitted incompetence, time to get rid of them, via an early resignation with Rumsfeld and an election loss for Bush in November. For under a caring Kerry administration we?re to believe prison guards in a war zone would never brutalize their enemy captives. And if they did, I have a feeling the press would contend it wasn?t Kerry?s fault, since deep down, he really cares. The tireless effort by the press and the Democrats to get an apology from Bush is nothing more than a political ploy. The Iraqi abuse story is just the latest episode the President?s antagonists have tried to blow out of proportion in order to hurt him politically and to serve their own narrow interests. Here?s a a short list of previous offenses deemed worthy of a personal apology from George W. Bush and the where the lack of an apology was news in itself: For the 9/11 attacks For referencing the 9/11 attacks in campaign advertising For the war in Iraq For State Department criticism of Jesse Ventura?s vanity trip to Cuba For Chinese pilots crashing their planes into US spy planes For descriptive comments about a New York Times reporter For the Bush family cat For America?s role in defeating the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979 For alleged war crimes in the Philippines 100 years ago For slavery As you can see, turning the President into a kowtowing bootlick has been a high priority in the press since even before his election. Not sure how Bush will respond in the future to these inevitably continuing demands. But if he?s going to be in the apology business, he might consider hiring Tim Blair as a speech writer. Here?s Tim?s advice for addressing other countries who now find themselves in a position to pass judgment on America. Now this is an apology: To the planet?s assembled corrupt nations and institutions, what else can I say but this: I am sorry. I am sorry, Syria, for distracting you from your wonderful torturing and killing and obliteration of elemental freedoms. Egypt -- my heart aches for the concerns you must have had for the prisoners in Abu Ghraib, cruelly denied the electric shocks you routinely administer in your own country. The traditions of liberty in Jordan are likewise affronted by our inexcusable behaviour. Who knows how many schoolgirls have escaped burning buildings in Saudi Arabia while that beautiful nation has wrung its hands over America?s evil? And to the United Nations, bravely shaping a wealthy future for many previously impoverished UN officials, I also say: I am sorry.? Friday, May 07, 2004
Our Befuddled Senator
Now that the rest of the country has finally gotten a chance to see the soaring intellect of Senator Mark Dayton on display in his exchange with Rumsfeld and Meyers, it seems like a good time to share some of our past thoughts on the inarticulate, incoherent Dayton. Most of them are courtesy of Saint Paul.  (The only microphone Mark Dayton should ever be allowed in front of.) April 2004: Dayton at the Bat February 2004: The Billionaire Boys Club October 2003: Two Guys Who Had A Worse Friday Night Than You September 2003: The Reports of His Resurrection Have Been Greatly Exaggerated August 2003: Dayton Descends Deeper into Dementia August 2003: Turning a Deaf Ear to Reason July 2003: Raging Bull(sh*t) June 2003: It Pays to Have A Friend in Mark Dayton June 2003: If Only He Had A Heart March 2003: Fooling None of the People, None of the Time March 2003: And Then There's Mark February 2003: The Many Moods of Mark Dayton February 2003: Mark Dayton Finds His Voice February 2003: What?s Wrong with Mark Dayton? January 2003: Markie D Gonna Be Raisin' The Roof January 2003: Getting Ahead of Myself
Exposing Mark Dayton
To Hugh Hewitt and America, we?re sorry about Sen. Mark Dayton. His performance today in accusing Donald Rumsfeld and Gen. Dick Meyers of attempting to ?withhold the truth from the American people? by surpressing information was political grandstanding at its worst. Although none of us voted for him, he's our Senator. He?s ours, we got him, and we apologize. But, truth be told, a majority of Minnesota citizens didn?t actually vote for him. This trust fund millionaire and political dilletente only won 49% of the vote in the 2000 election. Moribund Republican Rod Grams got 43% and Jim Gibson of the ego driven Indpendence Party (Jesse Ventura?s outfit) got 6% and handed the election to a lightweight with the big name (Dayton's department stores are a local cultural institution). Nevertheless, he was elected under our watch and we take full responsibility. As the Elder shows above, we have been doing our best to chronicle his odd tenure riding the back benches of the Senate since arriving in Washington. Since he?s not up for re-election for another 2 years, I?m sure there?s more to come.
Luke, You Are A Sick Mother
Luke Duke from Puzzlestud offers an alternative view of Katherine Lanpher's mug shot: I for one enjoy the picture of the beautiful Katherine Lanpher at the top of your page. I don't know whether it's the redness of her face, the glazed over look in her eyes, or that "look how trashed I am" expression, but something about her makes me want to get a better whiff of that .21% worth of alcohol-laced breath rising from the pit of her churning stomach like whiskey flames from a distillery hell. Don't tell me I'm the only one that feels this way. For the sake of all mankind Luke, I sincerely hope you are.
Sometimes The Truth Hurts
Elizabeth has a complaint: It is too difficult to read your blog with that butt-ugly picture on the top of the page!!!!! And she's not the only one having issues with the photo. Even the normally stout hearted Warrior Monk from Spitbull is getting creeped out by the smirking inebriate. Those of you who don't recognize the mug, or were too put off by its appearance to follow our link to the story behind the photo, may be surprised to know that it is none other than Katherine Lanpher, radio co-host with Al Franken on Air America. Mitch Berg has more on that connection over at Shot in the Dark. For those of you offended by the picture, we're sorry. Actually we're not sorry. As Saint Paul so eloquently put it, all we can say is that our commitment is to the truth, and sometimes that ain't pretty. Sometimes it is butt ugly. Maybe Elizabeth should consider herself lucky we don't have a picture of Lanpher's ass on the masthead. Now that would be some difficult reading. And maybe a violation of the Geneva convention on torture.
Last Word On Friends
Paul e-mails to opine: That NRO piece really did hit the nail on the head. I want to hear from JB Doubtless on this issue. I recall one time getting into a heated argument with him during the second season because I called this show "hit or miss". Years later I can't watch it without thinking that these folks are living in a college dorm atmosphere (only with bigger rooms) in their mid thirties. Grow up! I caught the Seinfeld yesterday where he broke up with a gal because he became disgusted with her when he found out she liked that annoying Dockers commercial. I would say in the entire run of Friends has never had a single sub-plot that clever. Friends is the type of show that would base an entire episode about getting someone the perfect present. Seinfeld is the type that would base an episode about getting out of having to get someone a present. Well put Paul. You had a heated argument with JB Doubtless?!? Our JB? Who'd have thunk it?
St. Paul City Council Member Dave Thune plans to introduce a proposal next week that would ban smoking in all of the city's bars and restaurants. With all of the due repsect that I can muster between puffs of my smooth Turkish and domestic blend heater, blow it out your piehole, Dave.
Any bar or restaurant owner in St. Paul can ban smoking right this minute if they want to. They don't need the permission of some meddling little government pissant to mandate what they can or cannot do on their own private property (yes, a bar does qualify as someone's private property as much as someone else's lungs do). Some owners choose a smoking ban, others do not. This choice is based on one simple principle...the free market. You all know both sides of the market argument so I won't go into that here (although those who are interested can check out some good ones in the comments section of this post by Captain Ed). I'd like to focus on the hypocrisy of this smoking ban nonsense that seems to be sweeping the globe. If Thune and other like-minded chuckleheads truly think that the hazards of secondhand smoke are reaching klaxon shrieking crisis level, then their only moral choice is to push for a complete ban on cigarettes. Given all of the dire warnings we're being forced to swallow, anything short of that condemns us all to live the rest of our doomed existence with oxygen tank in tow and coughing up chunks of phlegm. No, an outright ban just ain't part of the plan. You see, there are other economic interests at play here. The State of Minnesota benefits from tobacco sales to the tune of about $182 million per year. In turn, the city of St. Paul relies on the state of Minnesota to provide a whopping 37% of its general fund. You don't think the city depends on cigarette taxes? Dave Thune isn't really interested in saving lives by eliminating smoking. On the contrary, he and the city DEPEND on smokers. They just don't have the guts to admit it. Thune is just another low level government weenie who wants to enact feel-good legislation so he can go home at night with a smug sense of satisfaction that he's changing his little part of the world for the better while not jeopardizing the funding of the next ridiculous council proposal to come down the pike. I've got a good idea of where Mr. Thune, who himself is an "addicted smoker" (i.e. a victim of big tobacco), could start on his crusade. How about taking some personal responsibility and not smoking around others? Apparently, Dave doesn't have the strength to control his own behavior and feels he needs the government to regulate his, and my, smoking habit. Butt out, Dave. Labels: Nanny State
News You Can Use
As the election season heats up we?ll all be relying on the usual newspaper, magazine, Web site and blog suspects for information. For locals, I?d like to also recommend an underutilized resource, the Minnesota GOP Web site. It?s a great source for political news and information, especially Republican initiatives and events that go woefully underreported in the mainstream press. Most surprising, for an official party mouthpiece, the site goes beyond a rote regurgitation of the news cycle talking points of the day. They are discriminating in story selection and have a great sense of humor (especially with the Kerry photos.). The guys that run this are so good, they could be bloggers (that is, if they ever tire of getting paid to do interesting, important work for a cause they believe in). The fine folks at the MN GOP also offer an email newsletter, the GOP News Line, bringing you critical information right to your inbox, three or four times a week. So stop on by and sign up, your political acumen will never be the same. Thursday, May 06, 2004
With Friends Like These...
Regular e-mail contributor James Phillips chimes in on Friends: That really was a great review of "Friends" you just posted. Nailed it. The difference between Friends and Seinfeld is best illustrated for me by the number of times something happens the seems right out of a Seinfeld episode. Someone said today (I heard it on Rush) that the public liked "Friends" because it reminded them of the Clinton Administration. Probably more truth to that than they realized. A bunch of self-indulgent over-grown adolescents whose entire lives revolves around sex, sex, and sex. And talking about sex, relationships, and heartbreak. Your description of "Friends" could've been a description about the Clinton Presidency. Friends "feels your pain." Yech. Notice that one of Mitch's most popular posts is itself Seinfeld-ian. A post about nothing (yes, I am quoting myself.)
Friends Forever?
This breaking news from CNN just popped into my inbox: From: BreakingNews@MAIL.CNN.COM Sent: Thursday, May 06, 2004 1:13 PM To: TEXTBREAKINGNEWS@CNNIMAIL12.CNN.COM Subject: CNN Breaking News -- President Bush says he is sorry for the humiliation suffered by Iraqi prisoners at the hands of U.S. troops. Watch CNN or log on to http://CNN.com for the latest news. When this is the standard for ?breaking news,? instead of say, airlines being driven into skyscrapers, I think things are definitely on the right track national security-wise. Although it doesn?t speak very well of the health of CNN. Waking up their Breaking News email guy for this crap is the lowest editorial moment they?ve had since their Breaking News bulletin on the death of the Queen of Salsa last July. In any regard, it appears our long national nightmare is over. At least for those proponents of compassionate, feel good, empty gestures (that is to say, the Democratic Party and the entire cast and viewership of Friends). The President of the United Sates says ?sorry? for the brutish actions of a few soldiers in a prison camp. I?m sure the Arab street appreciates it. Unless this gesture is somehow humiliating to them as well. You can never be too sure with this crowd. We?ll be standing by for further breaking news updates.
I Know You're A Super Genius
Does the age that you start drinking affect that chances that you'll become an alcoholic? Jay Matthews at the Washington Post seems to think so, but Jacob Sollum shows that Matthews may have a little difficulty with the concept that correlation is not causation in a post at Reason.
I Wasn't (and Won't Be Tonight) There For You
Yesterday Mitch Berg had a post at Shot In The Dark that consisted of nothing more than this: "Friends" ends its very, very long run tonight. I've still never seen it. It drew twenty one comments, including one from yours truly where I opined that Friends is probably the most overrated sitcom in history and can't hold a candle to the true greats of the genre such as Seinfeld. There has always been something about Friends that has bothered me too. More than just the fact that it wasn't really all that funny. S.T. Karnick nails it in this piece at NRO: Friends, on the other hand, was much more straightforward and, well, friendly. The strength of the show was in its quirky but basically likable and accessible characters. I say "basically likable" because, in reality, I certainly would not wish to be around them ? they are far too squirrelly for me. I'd rather have to deal with the openly self-centered Seinfeld crowd. After all, you would know precisely what Jerry and the gang wanted from you ? entertainment ? and could give it or withhold it as you chose. The characters in Friends, however, wanted affection, something that is both difficult to give and just as hard to withhold. If you don't feel affection, after all, it's hard to fake it; but if you don't find a way to give it, it's difficult to justify yourself in a world where being thought to be nice is such an important thing. In such a place, what excuse can I have for failing to "be there for you"? The fact that I find your endless prattle about your love life thoroughly annoying and in fact mind-bogglingly adolescent seems a perfect justification to me, but surely will not appear so to you. Hence, I am forced either to pretend to listen and to refrain from informing you that you are an idiot (which would be the truly loving and helpful thing to do), or I must withdraw. In the case of Friends, I quickly withdrew, unable to watch more than a few episodes during its long, popular run ? and even then only as a scientist, with notepad close to hand and dissecting tools always at the ready. The truth of the matter is that my friends and acquaintances, and my relationships with them, are much closer to what you see on Seinfeld than on Friends. It ain't always pretty, but it is real. And like Karnick, I'd rather hang with them than with the Friends crew. Then there's this clincher: Instead, Friends provided an escape into an emotional dream realm where people are nice, and care about one another, and pursue sexual gratification from morning until night, however fallible and inept at helping they might be. It was the perfect entertainment for a society that enforced political correctness wherever possible, that instituted the idea that the height of civilization is in pretending to like people whose behavior you find entirely abhorrent, and that was in fact striving relentlessly to establish the rule of niceness. So long Friends. You had a nice run. Too nice of a run.
And You Want To Be My Resume Writer?
The mistreatment of Iraqi prisoners at Abu Ghraib prison by U.S. military guards is disgusting and shameful. All of those who are responsible in any way for the actions, be they the guards themselves, their commanders, U.S. intelligence agents, or private contractors should be punished appropriately. While their conduct will no doubt damage Coalition efforts to provide security and stability to Iraq, it should in no way be seen to invalidate the reasons for the war. Nor should it influence U.S. decisions on the future course of the war. Do the actions of a few bad cops mean that the noble efforts of the majority of the police force to fight crime was wrong? Would you then conclude that because of these inappropriate actions the police should completely abandon their efforts at fighting crime? Of course not. Only a fool would believe so. A fool or Mark Gisleson. Loyal readers of Fraters Libertas might remember Gisleson as the winner in the category Blogger Most Likely to Be Visited by the Homeland Security Department (or a Psychiatric Team) in our 2003 Blogs of Distinction Awards for his revolutionary fervor: In my heart, I still believe in revolution. In my heart, I still think I have the 'nads to put my life on the line for a cause. In my gut I think this is the only way we'll ever achieve our goals of economic and social justice. But in my head, I want to win the next election so we don't have to have a revolution. At the time when Gisleson was waxing revolutionary, he was filling in for Steve Perry's Bush Wars and running the City Pages Babelogue. In January 2004, Gisleson resigned from his post at Babelogue, much to the dismay of Saint Paul. But he wasn't gone long and soon reemerged with his own blog called Norwegianity. Where he continues to display the wit (he likes to refer to us as "farters libertas"-get it?) and emotional maturity of an eight year old. Witness his effort from May Day regarding the Abu Ghraid prison story, which he sneeringly titles Andersonville goes to Iraq. (For a little historical perspective consider that at this point in the prisoner-abuse probe, it appears that just over twenty prisoners have died in U.S. military custody in Iraq and Afghanistan since 2001. Two of the deaths were determined to be caused by the actions of U.S. military personnel, while the others are under investigation. The grave registry at Andersonville, the notorious Confederate prisoner of war camp, included the names of 12,910 Union soldiers who perished there. In Gisleson's world that's a perfectly legitimate comparison.) Click on the link, print it out and mail copies to every wingnut war supporter you know. Don't let them off the hook. Everytime they tell you Bush is right, ask them if they read that article. People who wanted Bill Clinton assassinated over blow jobs don't have the right to refuse to discuss torture in the context of an illegal war conducted by an illegal president and his corrupt handlers. "People who wanted Bill Clinton assassinated over blow jobs"? And just who would these people be? Gisleson loves to throw around charges like this without ever seeing fit to provide documentation. Now if I was going to say something similar like "people who call for violent revolution if George W. Bush is reelected", I at least would have the decency to provide a link to the source. Gisleson continues with promises of a temper tantrum if Kerry doesn't win: And if you're not wearing red, go back to the bedroom and change clothes. It helps remind 'the man' that this time around, it's not about Nader votes. Steal this election and you're going to be looking at general strikes, shutdowns, mass pickets and a lot of broken windows. One way or another we have to stop this before they replace the red, white and blue with one of those Scandinavian cross flags done up in baby blue. The tough thing about trying to understand Gisleson is to determine what romanticized period of struggle he wishes to return to. At times when he trots out tired counter culture clichés like 'the man' you think he's keen to relive the late 60's early 70's glory days of the Weathermen and Black Panthers. But then he starts talking about strikes, shutdowns, and "a lot of broken windows" and you get the feeling that maybe he yearns for the labor strife of the 30's with the scabs, the Pinkertons, and singing Woody Guthrie songs around the fire barrel on picket duty. I'm also not sure who Gisleson expects to stage these union walkouts that will bring the country to its knees. Government employees? The bus drivers? Newspaper workers? If John Kerry happens to be elected president in November I won't be happy about it. But I won't break any windows or take to the streets in protest or call for a revolution. I'll go to work and lead my life in the same manner as I always have. Because when it comes down to it, the country is far more important to me than an political party or politician. If John Kerry is the President of the United States of America, it's still the United States of America. A country that I love, respect, and admire. A parting word from Gisleson: I'm sure wingnuts visiting this site will find all of this a bit over the top. Actually considering his history (and his 'nads), this wing nut views it as par for the course. Wednesday, May 05, 2004
An Outpost of Rational Thought
With all the emotional hand wringing and finger pointing accompanying the story on the mistreatment of Iraqi prisoners at Abu Ghraib, and the calls for investigations of the investigations of the investigations (maybe Ted Kennedy would be happy if a champion of human rights like Libya was in charge of the probe), it's refreshing to find a trove of thoughtful, sober analysis of the situation from Joe Carter at the evangelical outpost. When the story broke, Joe theorized that a lack of training of reservists played a big part in the problem. He followed this up with another post defending his original position and explaining how military regulations reinforce the Natural Law. One of the aspects of the abuse story that has yet to fully explored is that it is yet another example of the fine line that keeps "ordinary people" from committing acts of cruelty and evil, and how easily that line can be crossed, especially in group situations. Joe also explores the similarities between what went on at Abu Ghraib and hazing in the military, academic, and sports settings. If you think that this is trying to make light of the situation or downplay the seriousness of it, read some of the fraternity hazing stories or this laundry list of sports hazing tales, a disturbing number of which involve forced sodomy in some form or another. Today Joe wonders why there is plenty of justified outrage at the abuses of Iraqi prisoners, yet scant attention paid to the epidemic of sexual torture in U.S. prisons. If you're looking for the goods, head to the outpost.
Falling Down Drunk (and dead) Part II
La Crosse deaths: Accidents? Murders?: Six bodies. Seven years. The victims have been the same sex, race and approximate age. All of them have been found in the waters around La Crosse, home to three rivers. None of the bodies showed obvious signs of a struggle, and forensic autopsies found little evidence of knockout drugs or anything to indicate that the men were victims of abduction or homicide. So the killer must be very smart, the theory goes. The other similarity among the victims is that, at the time of their deaths, all of them were drunk. People drinking too much? In Wisconsin? There's nothing subtle about Wisconsin's drinking culture. The state leads the nation in the rate of adults who drink, according to a survey by the federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta. It also leads the nation in binge drinking, meaning five or more drinks at a time. Tuesday, May 04, 2004
Something Fishy Going On Here
Yesterday, when John Kerry visited Minneapolis for a fundraiser, he was greeted by a crowd of protesters , including some friends from the deep blue sea. 
Dolphins in Minneapolis? 
And hockey sticks of course.
Why The Elder Doesn't Admit To Being Born There
Associated Press May 4, BELOIT, Wis. -- The body of a man who jumped into the Rock River as part of a belly flop contest run by a Beloit bar has been recovered from the stream, authorities say. The body of Dorl Gates, 52, of Beloit, was found Monday night about a mile south of where he entered the river April 24, Lt. Michael Mugnani of the Rock County Sheriff's Department said. An autopsy was planned, Coroner Karen Gilbertson said.
Blame The Howler Monkeys First
Muslims' complaints of bias in U.S. way up: Muslims in the United States experienced more than 1,000 incidents of alleged harassment, violence and discriminatory treatment in 2003, a jump of 70 percent over the previous year, according to a report released Monday by a major Islamic advocacy group. The report by the Washington-based Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) attributed the increase to such factors as Muslim-bashing on radio talk shows and tensions surrounding the war in Iraq. The group, which has 24 offices nationwide, said it received 1,019 complaints from Muslims last year concerning discriminatory or violent actions, up from 602 in 2002. The biggest number of incidents had to do with employment and the refusal to accommodate religious practices. But there were 93 reported hate crimes, more than double the total in 2002. And there were cases in which Muslims alleged that laws were applied to them more harshly because of their ethnic or religious identity. 'We are definitely facing an uphill battle in the struggle for civil rights in this country, especially with regard to the American Muslim community,' said Muhammad Nimer, the author of the report, 'Unpatriotic Acts.' Discrimination and "hate crimes" based on religion are obviously deplorable acts and should not be tolerated. But considering the fact that, whether we like it or not, we're at war with Muslim fanatics these numbers don't seem all that horrible to me. Yes, they're up from 2002, but when you're talking about 1019 complaints spread across 24 offices nationwide over a year, most of which have to do with employers having problems with Muslim religious practices in the workplace, we're hardly talking about an epidemic of bias here.
The Rall That Broke The Camel's Back
R.T. explains why he ended up dropping the Star Tribune last fall: I, too have ended my relationship with the Star Tribune. I wrote this letter to them back in November: Dear Star Tribune, I regret to inform you that I will no longer be purchasing or reading the Star Tribune. Being a loyal reader for the past thirty years or so, I do not take this decision lightly, for I will be depriving myself of much valuable information and entertainment. However, your continued insistence on running cartoons by Ted Rall leaves me no recourse. With respect for your first amendment rights, it is the only thing I can do. Ted Rall is a shameful American. Get past the bad art, and you'll find messages so disgustingly hateful, it is amazing that a major newspaper sees fit to publish them. Take a close look at Sunday, November 16th's submission: The president of our country is portrayed as nothing less than a demonic Nazi dictator, "stealing" another election as Washington burns. But that's pretty mild when you compare it to his essays. His latest work, "Why We Fight" is a particularly disturbing piece that glorifies the killing of American soldiers in Iraq. Whatever your political leanings, any reasonable person should find this appalling. Yet your editorial staff continues to run his cartoons, which tells me as much about the Star Tribune as it does Rall. I'll miss Reusse, Grow, CJ, and even Syl Jones. However, I have principles to uphold; I suggest you examine yours. Sincerely, R. T. The current Rall flap (flop?) reminded me to send this to you to let you know you're not alone in your loathing for that fishwrap. I wonder if the editors over chomping at the bit to run that cartoon? Monday, May 03, 2004
In part of the third hour of last week's Northern Alliance Radio Show, JB Doubtless and Mitch Berg debated the merits of punk rock. Mitch claimed that punk paved the way for the pop music revival of the early 80's (which he described as one of the two best periods in pop music since the advent of rock and/or roll), while JB dismissed punk as a musically challenged movement for social outcasts whose main accomplishment was to annoy.
This article from the New York Times, which appeared in today's Star Tribune, with the cute title A Bush Surprise: Fright-wing Support, isn't likely to influence the argument either way, but it does demonstrate that, when it comes to politics, you can't always judge a book by its cover: With his mohawk, ratty fatigues, assorted chains and tattoos -- swallows on each shoulder, a nautical star on his back and the logo of the Bouncing Souls, a New York City punk band, on his right leg -- 22-year-old Nick Rizzuto is the very picture of counterculture alienation. But it's when he talks politics that Rizzuto sounds like a real radical, for a punk anyway. Rizzuto is adamantly in favor of lowering taxes and for school vouchers, and against campaign finance laws; his favorite Supreme Court justice is Clarence Thomas; he plans to vote for President Bush in November, and he's hard-core into capitalism. "Punks will tell me, 'Punk and capitalism don't go together,' " Rizzuto said. "I don't understand where they're coming from. The biggest punk scenes are in capitalist countries like the U.S., Canada and Japan. I haven't heard of any new North Korean punk bands coming out. There's no scene in Iran." Rizzuto is the founder of Conservative Punk, one of a few Web sites and blogs that have sprung up recently as evidence of a heretofore latent political entity: Republican punks. With names such as GOPunk, Anti-Anti-Flag and Punkvoter Lies, the sites are a curious blend of Karl Rove and Johnny Rotten, preaching personal responsibility and reflexive patriotism with the in-your-face zeal of a mosh pit. When he's not banging his head to the Misfits, the Vandals or the Bouncing Souls, for example, Rizzuto spends his time writing essays denouncing Michael Moore and "left-wing propaganda," and urging other conservative punks to join his cause. If nothing else the article provides me with a perfect answer when people ask me what Mitch is really like. My standard response will now be, "a curious blend of Karl Rove and Johnny Rotten." Labels: NARN (04-05)
Give Me A G...Give Me An A...Give Me A Y...What Does It Spell? Really Well Adjusted Smart Hip People YAY!
The Star Tribune loves a good Aren't Those Gays Great story. The one from yesterday's paper tells us that Golden Valley is home to a high percentage of homosexuals. How high? Over 1.5% of households according to the census. Couple that with some anecdotal evidence that there are "a lot of rainbow bumper stickers at Byerlys" and you've got yourself a real news story. You get the feeling that the writer wanted to show that gays are "segregated" into certain areas of the city and how this was evidence of some type of discrimination, but soon realized the data didn't support that. In fact, the data doesn't support anything in the story--gays live where others of similar education and income live--and no one cares. But there has to be SOME kind of discrimination the gays are facing in Golden Valley, right? I mean this IS the suburbs. The story informs us: Life in Golden Valley has not lacked moments of tension and awkward humor. Day and Bemis said they have heard a neighbor use a derogatory term for gays. Another neighbor always avoids the "L word," choosing to refer to them as "the girls." The bastard neighbor avoids the "L" word (I thought the L word stood for liberal) and calls them the girls? That indeed is tense and awkward. The article would not be complete without at least one unsubstantiated claim of harassment and an attempt to lay it at the feat of a local Republican--in this case Stillwater's Michelle Bachmann: Maybe, but state Sen. Michele Bachmann, who represents part of Kimble's Stillwater, is sponsoring a bill to define marriage as a male-female union -- a stand that has inspired calls for a boycott of Stillwater businesses in protest and that Kimble said will play much better in the more rural parts of her large district, where the census found very few gay couples. Randy Olsen, 45, of Askov, a member of the East Central Men's Circle, a gay and bisexual support group that draws members from those more rural parts of Bachmann's district, said the climate is much chillier there. His group's Web page takes care to promise that its meetings are held in a secure private conference room. Yet some people still won't turn up at meetings "because they're afraid someone will see them," he said. And there can be unpleasant consequences when people do find out. Olson said that he lost a job and that kids have vandalized his property. BS Randy Olson. I love the vague nature of the job loss: he lost a job. Where? When? How? Why? How about a little reporting, a few questions? And kids vandalized his property? Are gays somehow immune from any bad stuff happening to them ever? How was it related to his being a gay? It reminds me of that Seinfeld bit where his uncle is convinced everyone is an anti semite "The rabbi? Anti semite!" Cheerleading for alternative lifestyles is one of the Star Tribune's favorite games and when you can hint that a Republican is subtly responsible for job losses and vandalism against gays all the better. Sunday, May 02, 2004
So Many Ponies
As my colleagues in the Northern Alliance were engaged in an entertaining debate on the merits of ?Afternoon Delight? and ?Billy, Don?t Be A Hero? on AM1280 The Patriot yesterday, I was busy riding the moral roller coaster from the dizzying heights of childish innocence down to the darkest depths of human depravity. The day began at a local indoor park and play area where the lovely Atomizerette and I joined my niece in celebrating her seventh birthday. The event consisted of watching dozens of children (and several adults) scamper through a gigantic padded jungle gym for nearly two hours with only a couple of brief rest periods; one to feast upon a rock-hard ice cream cake decorated with the likeness of resurrected Japanese uber-feline Hello Kitty and the other for the requisite gift opening session in which several My Little Pony themed trinkets were freed from their brightly colored wrappings and plastic cages to start them upon their magical journey from objects of wonderment and glee to ruthlessly discarded playthings strewn about the floor impeding the Warrior Monk?s midnight trip to the bathroom. There was laughter and there were tears. There was the joy of innocent children celebrating another milepost in a young child?s march towards teen status...and dating, and driving dad?s car and staying out until all hours of the night without even thinking of calling home and telling the parents when they can expect to hear the reassuring sound of the front door deadbolt slowly pulling back into the jamb (good luck with...all that, Monk and Eloise). After taking my leave from this celebration, I found my way to the local den of iniquity known as Canterbury Park. Saturday was Kentucky Derby Day, you see, and I had received a tip on a sure-thing from my favorite amateur oddsmaker...known here only as Earl. He had clued me in on a horse named Smarty Jones nearly a month previous. As a precaution (Earl?s judgement has a tendency to be somewhat suspect, at times), I had done some cursory research on the three year old Pennsylvania colt. It turns out that he is a mudder. I don?t know if his father was a mudder (or even if mother was a mudder) but what I did discover was that Smarty Jones loves the slop and the track at Churchill Downs was expected to have slop in spades, if I was to believe the morning weather reports. I had no choice but to act on this information since if this horse were to emerge victorious without the burden of my wager on his back, I would have been beside myself...and I know from countless comments of those closest to me that this is not always a pleasant thing. So, just a few hours removed from my niece beginning her eighth year surrounded by a team of little purple ponies and her giggling and innocently rambunctious playmates, I found myself in line at the betting window staring down at my wallet debating with myself on how much of its contents I was willing to wager on one of eighteen thoroughbreds that were about to race seven furlongs towards either ignoble defeat and almost certain anonymity or a triumphal blanket of roses. Around me were thousands of other bettors chomping on cigars and cigarettes, swilling beer and stuffing hot dogs down their gullets. Piles of worthless betting slips and Daily Racing Forms littered the floors and tabletops and while there was an air of hope amidst the crowd, the stench of desperation and defeat hung close behind. The contrast was striking. There was laughter and there were tears. There is now an extra $160 in my wallet. All I can say is...you gotta love those ponies.
Yesterday on the Northern Alliance Radio Show, Mitch Berg was channeling the spirit of Baghdad Bob when he tried to spin the news that the Marines were lifting the siege of Fallujah as a cunning master stroke of military strategy. Mitch sought to assure us that once those elite, battle hardened, gung ho Iraqi units took over from the from the Marines, it would only be a matter of time before the insurgents were cleaned out. Captain Ed, Hindrocket, and JB Doubtless were having none of it, and I was even moved to put down my rake (it was a Saturday for yard work for me) to call in to join the dissenters.
Mitch dismissed our criticism, painting us as "arm chair military analysts who get all their information from Instapundit." I can only assume that Mitch was referring to information like this. Labels: Iraq
Lest We Forget
In case anyone was still wondering whether or not ABC?s decision to read the names of the US war dead on Nightline last Friday was an attempt to exploit these deaths for partisan political gain, Brian Lambert removes all doubt. His endorsement was in a blurb attached to the end of an entirely unrelated column about local TV news reporters: Finally, kudos to Ted Koppel and "Nightline" for honoring this country's dead in Iraq. Koppel will devote all of this evening's edition of the show (KSTP, Channel 5, 10:35 p.m.) to reading the 700-plus names of the war dead. Since photos of war dead returning in caskets have been declared off limits in a free and open democracy, it is gratifying that someone in the media dares to flout official sanctions and show, as Koppel has said, "the cost of war." Well, there he goes again. Positioning the Bush administration as contrary to the principles of a free and open democracy, implying their fascist control of the media with delusional allegations of ?official sanctions? then embracing the images as showing the ?cost of war? (a war he?s consistently editorialized against)? Media bias, thy name is Brian Lambert. Because, remember, he?s not a news columnist - he?s an entertainment columnist. Check out the Pioneer Press web site under the roster of news columnists. Even Mrs. Nick Coleman II is listed here, and she?s usually writing about her thoughts on cooking dinner and taking out the garbage. But Lambert?s nowhere to be found. He?s in the Entertainment roster, along with Dear Abbey and something called ?The Skinny,? whose tag line is: ?Funny items five times a week.? Maybe they put Lambert along side that for balance? You?ve got some funny items five times a week, then some whiny, sneering, politically biased, delusional accusations three or four times a week. As I?ve written before, the problem with Lambert is that he?s the assigned to write about matters of TV and radio, a non-political beat. And he?s the only one at the paper doing it, no countervailing opinions are solicited. Yet, every single column he writes contains a vicious slam against the Bush administration, Republicans, or conservatives. And, oh yeah, he often writes dismissive, caustic columns ridiculing the notion that the media has a liberal bias, all from his position as the final arbiter of media opinion for the Pioneer Press. Talk about a conflict of interest. I also notice Lambert just got a new picture taken for his column (you?ll have to pick up a copy of the paper to see it). Besides the fact he?s gained about 40 pounds since his last picture was taken, I noticed that he?s literally sneering in the picture. Caustically laughing it up about something he feels superior to. Not sure how the photographer was able to inspire that reaction. My guess is he asked Lambert to think about the Pioneer Press readership. Getting back to the Nightline controversy and the question of whether their program Friday was an attempt to erode support for the war effort. I saw the eminent Middle East scholar Bernard Lewis interviewed on the Charlie Rose Show last Wednesday. He wasn?t addressing Nightline specifically, but he talked about how people in the Middle East misinterpret the culture of the United States, and that of an open, liberal democracy in general. Regarding the media portrayals emphasis on the deaths of our soldiers and the political opposition?s attacks on the Commander-in-Chief, they don?t shrug it off as a product of media bias and partisan political warfare. They take it at face value as the truth about the state of the country?s resolve. Observers in the Middle East see it as a sign of weakness for our leadership and more evidence of our lack of commitment to defeat the terrorists and Baathists in Iraq. According to Lewis, two historical events are driving Iraqi opinion of America?s commitment to the cause. First, the 1991 Gulf war, where we encouraged a popular uprising, particularly among the Shiites, against Saddam Hussein. Then we pulled our own troops out within weeks of the war?s ending, leaving those who did take up arms to be slaughtered by the Baathist thugs. Those who would be naturally inclined to helping us now are hesitant to do so, because if we leave early again, they again would be subject to similar slaughter. Victor Davis Hanson expressed the same view on NRO this week: Americans believe that freedom and consensual government ? far from being the exclusive domain of the West ? are ideals central to the human condition and the shared aspirations of all born into this world. That is the great hope we embrace now in Iraq, that as we rout those who advocate fundamentalism and intolerance, millions of others will gain confidence and join the struggle for democratic change. But until then, even as we speak, millions, sometimes in fear and silence, are watching our present efforts. They are uncertain of the outcome. They wait to pledge their allegiance to the victor, hoping, but not yet convinced, that we can defeat those who would impose tyranny and intolerance on any who would seek to reform and escape from their present misery. The second historical event Lewis pointed to was Somalia. Whereas the 1991 Gulf War is a lesson for those who might support us, Somalia is the lesson for those who would oppose us. Simply stated, the lesson they took is: kill enough Americans, make it gruesome enough and get the right amount of publicity for it, and we?ll leave. I?m certain this is how our pull out of Fallujah is being publicized in the fevered slums and rats nests our enemies inhabit throughout Iraq. It is giving them hope that their strategy is working and that the USA is returning to its recent risk averse habits. Whether it was ABC News?s intent or not, the Nightline program on Friday night was exactly the type of publicity our opponents in Iraq want to see. By showing the war dead, out of context with the importance of the larger mission, you start to erode the country?s resolve. You also get guys like Brian Lambert starting to talk about showing the ?cost of war?. Of course, his unsaid, yet obvious, conclusion is that this war costs too much. Rebuilding Iraq isn?t worth 700 American dead (and counting). The more Lambert and ABC News can say that to the American people, the more they can erode support for continuing this war. I suspect their primary goal is more personal than that, specifically getting people to turn against President Bush in hopes of getting a Democrat elected as President. And if they succeed in that, I shudder to think what kind of message that will send to our potential supporters and certain opponents in Iraq. Electing as the Commander-in-Chief a man at the forefront of eroding the resolve of his countrymen during our last great national trial.
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