It'll never work

Sony Repair Center, how may I help you?

My TV's broke.

What happened when it stopped working?

Well, it came on, then started changing channels by itself, then it'd cut off, then on, then off, then on, then change channels, then off . . . and on . . . and then it blew up.

That's not good.

It sucks, actually.

What were you doing when it went haywire?

Playing Rock, Paper, Scissors with my kid.


* * *
From Friday's Daily Mail in London:

It sounds like the perfect invention for all those couch potatoes who find even using a remote control just a little too much like hard work.

Scientists have come up with a box that lets television viewers change channels, switch on the DVD player or switch off an irritating presenter with the wave of a hand.

The controller's built-in camera can recognise seven simple hand gestures and work with up to eight different gadgets around the home.

Not only will it be a godsend for lazy viewers, it could also save hours of fruitless scrabbling among the sofa in search of the remote control.

The all-seeing wave controller is the brainchild of Australian engineers Dr Prashan Premaratne and Quang Nguyen.

They believe it could be on sale within three years, ending the frustration involved in finding and using remote controls.

Dr Premaratne, of the University of Wollongong, said: "We all rely on remote controls to manage an increasing number of items including TVs, set-top boxes, DVDs and hi-fis, and the range of goods will continue to increase.

"Apart from the frustration of sometimes mislaying the remote control just when you need it, they do tend to have different sets of commands which have to be mastered.

"People have tried to replace remote controls with voice recognition or glove-based devices but with mixed results."

The device is designed to sit on a shelf or table which has a clear line of sight to the television and the owner.

Its software recognises simple, deliberate hand gestures and then sends the appropriate signal to a universal remote control, designed to work with most makes of television, video recorder, DVD player, hi-fi and digital set-top box.

In tests, published in the Institution of Engineering and Technology's Computer Vision Research Journal, a prototype worked in all kinds of lighting, and at a range of distances.

It was able to switch equipment on and off, alter the volume, change channels, play and stop. Dr Premaratne says anyone can learn the gestures within five minutes.

Send lawyers, guns and money

It's a sad fact of radio that some of the most compelling -- and real -- broadcasting you'll ever hear comes when, to finish the Warren Zevon line in the hed, "the s*** has hit the fan."

At WWL, the New Orleans blowtorch on 870 AM, Garland Robinette seems to be the epicenter of compelling radio, as he and his beloved city try to dodge what's been flying out of the fan since Aug. 29, 2005.

He was on the air as people called the station on their cell phones as the floodwaters rose around them in their attics. On the air as Katrina literally blew apart WWL's high-rise studios. On the air as he held on for dear life when the windows blew out, fighting against being sucked into the maelstrom and to his death.

Likewise, Robinette was on the air in the chaotic aftermath of the storm, when Mayor Ray Nagin called in, desperate, demanding that the state and federal governments "get off your asses and let's do something, and let's fix the biggest g**damn crisis in the history of this country."

NOW, AS NAGIN fails to heed his own advice of nearly two years ago -- as New Orleans continues to slide into mayhem and anomie -- Robinette is still there to chronicle the devolution of a crippled, dying city.

And as a once-grand city literally fights for its life in a sea of ruin during a reign of murder (the 2007 homicide count already has surpassed 100) it is saddled with a district attorney who barely can prosecute -- and certainly can't convict -- anyone. For Robinette, and for many other New Orleanians, the last straw came last week, when DA Eddie Jordan dropped charges against an alleged quintuple murderer because he couldn't find the witness.

After he dropped the charges -- without consulting the police department -- homicide detectives tracked her down in three hours. She was still willing to testify.

Thursday, Robinette devoted all three hours of his afternoon show on WWL to calling for the resignation of Jordan, laying out his case against the DA far more effectively than Jordan's prosecutors have against the Crescent City's burgeoning criminal element.

Friday, he did the same, expanding his assault by acknowledging the elephant in the parlor -- an African-American power structure in New Orleans that keeps incompetents like Jordan in office, directly adding to the misery (and to the continuing slaughter) of their fellow African-Americans in the city's Third World ghettos. Robinette cited Jordan -- the protege of indicted U.S. Rep. William "Dollar Bill" Jefferson -- as the poster child for that corrupt, self-serving system.

Then, a bit later, the veteran New Orleans broadcaster expanded his assault yet again to Louisiana Attorney General Charles Foti, who served 30 years as the Orleans Parish criminal sheriff. Foti, at the behest of Nagin, Thursday announced an "investigation" of Jordan's office.

But, according to Robinette, the embattled Jordan -- who Foti is supposed to "investigate" -- is the only district attorney on the roster of Foti's political backers. No conflict of interest there, eh?

That's the background of the host's first question to Foti when he called in to the show Friday: "Why should we trust you to come in and fix this?"

When Foti launched into a litany of his glorious deeds as Louisiana AG, Robinette was having none of it.

"Let me read you a long list of. . . . The DA is the only, the only DA -- Jordan that is -- on a long list of your supporters. That gives us pause as to whether or not you can do anything," the broadcaster began.

"Second of all, your comments about Dr. Pou and the two nurses . . . we've had legal ethicists on this show that said what you did was unethical, so we've got. . . .

Foti interrupts. "I . . . I think you're trying to turn the conversation."

Robinette plows ahead, though.

"No, no. I'm saying 'Why should we trust you?' Why should we trust you, of all people, to come in and fix this situation?"

Foti responds by reciting his resume . . . and yet more of his post-Katrina wondrous deeds. And a testimonial to his "longstanding love affair with the city and the people."

Robinette: "Here's a quote from Allen Usry, supposedly your political alter ego for 30-something years. . . ."

"I don't want to hear a quote from Allen Usry. Thank you, Garland." (Click.)

But Robinette is undaunted. He keeps going.

"I'll tell you what he says, 'cause I know he's still listening, 'I've known Charlie Foti for 32 years. My problem with Foti is he's not reliable.'

"Think I got any apologies to you? Think again."

AND A MINUTE LATER, the WWL host throws the high, hard one:

I'm tellin' ya. . . . This is the man the mayor brings in, our power structure brings in to fix this? Gimme a break.

Tellin' ya' New Orleans, one man's opinion . . . maybe I'm crazier 'n' hell . . . you better wake up. You had better wake up; you better understand what's happening here.

This is not just about a district attorney. This is about a city that's broken. This is about a crime . . . about a judicial system that's horribly broken, and it needs to be fixed. We've got leaders who have told you for a year and a half to come back to this city.

I just spoke to an attorney general that's probably been more responsible for driving doctors and nurses out of this city and state than any other person. We just spoke to a gentleman that has 30-year friends on record as saying he's not reliable -- and this is who the mayor brings in.

We've had legal experts here tell us today that by bringing in the national DAs, you can't do much. By bringing the special prosecutor of the Supreme Court, you can't do much. This is beginning to sound like a statement that says to you 'This crime problem can't be fixed. To hell with the poor black people of this city that are being. . . .

(breaks down sobbing)

A CITY FIGHTING FOR ITS LIFE. A radio host trying to start a revolution armed only with righteous anger, guts and a microphone. The old guard trying to avoid the Full Ceausescu. That's drama.

That's compelling radio, and you don't know how rare that is today. Well, maybe you do, being that statistics show you don't much listen to radio anymore.

But once in a very blue moon, someone with passion and talent still commits compelling radio in a valiant attempt to serve the public (a lost concept in broadcasting). This week -- and for much of the past two years -- that person has been Garland Robinette of WWL in New Orleans.

And, in a world crying out for just the manna Robinette's audience is lucky enough to feed on, someone needed to point that out.

LISTEN to the audio.

Playing to the echo chamber

This week's description for the Revolution 21 podcast is by our guest commentator, the Imperial Pet, Molly the Dog. . . .







WOOOOOOOOOOOO! Woowoowoo! WOOOOOOOOOOO! Grrrrr.

Thanks, Molly! And thank you for dropping in for this freaky, echoey edition of The Big Show. Proceed to downloading now. Get it here.

Be there. Aloha.

Back from Iraq, they're yesterday's trash

I am too angry to trust myself to say much about the story you will see excepted below, and the accompanying video link.

I will say that ABC's Bob Woodruff and crew have done yeomen's work in reporting the latest outrage heaped upon our fighting men and women by a "grateful" nation. Apparently, it goes something like this: After dealing with one too many IED or rocket attacks, a soldier develops Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and/or traumatic brain injury, with all the symptoms that entails.

Then, when the soldier is no longer fit for duty or seeks medical help -- either before or after a PTSD diagnosis -- he or she is pushed into an immediate discharge due to a heretofore undiagnosed "personality disorder."

The military is rid of a "problem" soldier. The military health-care system is rid of another damaged combat veteran. The overwhelmed VA health system picks up another damaged combat veteran.

And the military sends the "unfit" soldier a bill for thousands in bonus money he or she no longer can pay off with via military service.

Pretty swift system, huh?

Here's a small bit of the story from ABC News:

It is known as a "Chapter 5-13" — "separation because of personality disorder." The Army defines it as a pre-existing "maladaptive pattern of behavior of long duration" that interferes with the soldier's ability to perform his duties.

In practical terms, this diagnosis means the personality disorder existed before military service, and therefore medical care and disability payments are not the military's responsibility. But some veterans and veterans' advocates have been vocal in their belief that personality disorder is being misdiagnosed in combat veterans.

"A significant percentage of the ones who are discharged with personality disorder truly have it, but there is another percentage that are put out simply to eliminate them from military service. … It's done maliciously or as some sort of a policy," said Russell K. Terry, founder of the veterans' advocacy organization, Iraq War Veterans Organization.

Since 2001, more than 22,000 servicemen and women from all branches of the military have been separated under the personality disorder discharge, according to figures provided by the Department of Defense.

(snip)

Donald Louis Schmidt of Chillicothe, Ill., was being treated for post traumatic stress disorder after his second combat tour in Iraq. His commanders at Fort Carson later decided he was no longer mentally fit and discharged him with personality disorder.

"They just slapped me with that label to get me out quicker," Schmidt said. He said superiors told him "'Everything will be great. Peachy keen.' Well, it's not."

The discharge left Schmidt ineligible for disability pay and benefits. He was also required to return more than $10,000 of his $15,000 reenlistment bonus, but he said no one explained that to him until it was too late.

"If I didn't have family, I'd be living on the sidewalk," Schmidt said.

"It's not right that they would do this to him after him going to war for us," Schmidt's mother, Patrice Semtner-Myers, said. "They threw him away. They're done with him. He's no use to them anymore so they say, 'We're done. … Thanks for nothing.'"

Schmidt and Town say Army doctors misled them about the consequences of the personality disorder discharge. Town said he was told he would receive his benefits and it would be like a medical discharge, only quicker.

In the course of reporting this story, ABC News spoke with 20 Iraq War veterans who believe they were misdiagnosed with personality disorder.

A Marine who preferred not to be named said, "Most docs won't diagnose you with PTSD [post traumatic stress disorder] because the military has to treat you for the rest of your life."

IT OCCURS TO ME, having seen this story on Nightline tonight, that the Culture of Death -- as the late Pope John Paul II called it -- only begins with abortion. It comes into full flower with the sheer expendability of our fellow human beings in every facet of our corporatist, dysfunctional American society.

You are a mere cog, worth jack s*** only so long as you're of some worth to your betters.

I am in the same leaky boat. And our fighting men and women -- the ones in the boat with Old Faithful gushing through the hull -- are the most expendable of all, good for cannon (or, in this war, IED) fodder but as worthless as yesterday's trash once the cannon (or IED) finds them.

And what do you do with yesterday's trash? You give it a Chapter 5-13 discharge, that's what.

This president, this Congress, this military and this country are wholly unworthy of "the last full measure of devotion" so willingly offered by young men and young women we send off to a pointless war in a meat grinder called Iraq.

I would say "God have mercy on us all," except that I expect He will have about as much mercy on our spoiled, selfish, SUV-driving selves as we've shown to those kids thrown away because they're no damn good to us now.

See the video report here.

Garland Robinette is a great American

I've pretty much blown off all I need to get done this afternoon to listen, enraptured, to the webcast of the Garland Robinette Show on WWL radio in New Orleans. What I'm hearing is a talk-show host absolutely on fire, full of righteous indignation and desperately -- literally desperately -- trying to make a difference.

And it makes for amazing radio.

Here's the background: Orleans Parish (same as a county, and Orleans Parish equals the city of New Orleans) District Attorney Eddie Jordan dropped charges against a man accused of gunning down five teen-agers last summer because he said the key witness had disappeared and was unwilling to testify.

He never told the cops what the problem was before dropping all charges. After the police chief got the news from the evening news, it took New Orleans cops just a few hours to track down the witness elsewhere in Louisiana.

And she's still willing to testify.

AND THAT'S THE SMALL STORY that tells a big part of the Big Story of why the criminal justice system in New Orleans has all but ceased to function after Hurricane Katrina. Before Hurricane Katrina, the criminal justice system in New Orleans had only more or less ceased to function.

Robinette -- who for years was a popular anchorman on WWL-TV and launched his radio show just before Katrina -- wants Eddie Jordan gone. Out of office. Now. And the host has a simple rationale for his big push today: He's afraid public outrage will eventually die down like it always has in New Orleans -- and Louisiana -- meaning that things just never change.

"What you're seeing and hearing today is an uptick like what you see on an oscillograph," Robinette told his radio audience. "This has been going on for 30 years, and we only get upset whenever it's a white person that gets killed, or a tourist."

He's afraid that Mayor Ray Nagin's public outrage will result in nothing more than his convincing the state's attorney general to "investigate" when Jordan's resignation is the cure for this particular civic illness.

"We don't need an investigation that's going to allow us to forget," Robinette said. "We don't need an investigation that's going to allow us to calm down."

AND THAT, the radio host says, is what the city's power structure is counting on -- the anger dying down.

"It's just a bunch of black kids gettin' blown away, right? That's what the white community should think. But the white community is furious."

Robinette says he learned a valuable lesson about problem solving as a soldier in the jungles of Vietnam, when a grunt's life depended on dealing with big problems. What he learned was there's three kinds of problems: Those you can solve, those you can partially solve . . . and those you can't solve and need to get the hell away from.

"You ever shot anybody?" Robinette asked a caller. "Do you know what it's like to kill somebody? It's a horrific thing, and it's incomprehensible that you're gonna let somebody who's done that walk the streets.

"I DON'T WANT TO BE RACIAL," he said a bit later. "This is not racial. This boggles the common sense as far as the behavior of anybody on a survival basis."

Robinette insists Nagin must march into Jordan's office and say "Young black men are being slaughtered. . . . The ability for us to live in this city is being threatened by you. We need you to resign."

When Jordan, in all likelihood, refused to do so -- being that the mayor can't make another elected official quit -- the broadcaster says the mayor needs to call a press conference to tell an outraged citizenry that, in their name, he asked the DA to quit and the DA refused.

And Robinette wants the citizens of New Orleans to put the heat on C. Ray? (Not Lately) Nagin to that effect.

"I'd like before I die -- after living in this place my whole life -- to see something done along these lines," Robinette said. "Because it's the same thing, just different people. . . . It's just one man's opinion, but I want to see this district attorney resign."

If you're in New Orleans and agree with Robinette, here's the contact info for your mayor:

ray.nagin@mayorofno.com

(504) 658-4900

UPDATE: Listen to the show in podcast form off of the WWL website. Here are the individual file links:

Hour 1

Hour 2

Hour 3

The Right Combination

OK, now I've been thinkin' about The Porter Wagoner Show all night. And it occurs to me that the hokey down-home trappings and its popularity with Southern working-class folk like my parents obscured some cultural treasures.

You look at the show in all its 1960-1980 Nashville glory, and what meets the eye is pickup trucks and Red Man. But from 1967-74 -- the tenure of the young Dolly Parton -- what you had was a pairing of a country-music legend and a country-music legend to be.

What you also had was, in Dolly Parton, one of the best songwriters ever. And a parade of guest stars encompassing the golden era of country music.

Sponsored by Black Draught laxative. That's so whack . . . it's cool.

So sit right back, friends and neighbors, and watch this great duet by Porter and Dolly, "The Last Thing On My Mind."

Hello, Sadie?

When I was a kid in Baton Rouge, Saturday afternoon meant the old man got control of the TV and, dammit, we were gonna watch The Porter Wagoner Show. Back in the '60s and '70s, the traditional country music of Porter and Pretty Miss Norma Jean -- or later on, Porter and Dolly Parton -- wasn't exactly an adolescent draw, you know?

And I had no need of Black Draught laxative. Or to "snap back with Stanback" headache powder.

I have to admit, though, that watching Dolly -- she of the big hair and bigger . . . never mind -- was educational for a young male.

Well, OK. I was partial to Buck Owens and "Country" Charley Pride. And Dolly did have that big hair and those . . . never mind.

Anyway, there was no cable and I didn't have a TV in my room for much of that time. So I watched. And I absorbed. And then something happens to your DNA, I swear to God.

You get to college and hit your 20s, and then you find yourself hitting the Cotton Club on Highland Road on Saturday nights because the seafood is good, the beer is better and all the good Patsy Cline songs are on the jukebox. Welcome to growing up in the Deep South sometime Back in the Day.

Lots of us in the South back then -- we who cut our teeth on rock and soul -- also had to come to grips with the hillbilly music imprinted upon our genetic makeups. The music we couldn't escape. We had to make room for Dolly, Pretty Miss Norma Jean . . . and ol' Porter and the Wagonmasters.

And come to think of it, Speck Rhodes was kind of funny.

And now -- even though I'm still partial to rock, punk and soul -- sometimes late on a Saturday night, there's nothing quite like firing up the old tube-type AM radio and carefully coaxing WSM in through the static to hear Porter play host on the Grand Ole Opry, where today's Nashville suits exile the people who built country music.

In a world of Rascal Flats and Faith Hills, the Opry gets to be the Island of Misfit Legends.

But there's something the suits don't realize.

In a world where phoniness reigns, suddenly folks like Porter, Dolly and Pretty Miss Norma Jean are cool. Because they're real.

And now they have something to say. As Newsweek tells us:

Slouching slightly in an easy chair as he watches ESPN, Porter Wagoner suggests a kindly grandfather. His voice has thickened with age, his pace slowed by an abdominal aneurysm that nearly killed him last year. But those lady-killer pale blue eyes sparkle as he leans forward, conspiratorially. "I used to run around a lot with women; I enjoyed that," he says. "I'm not really serious with anyone right now. I got some grandkids, and I'm kinda into them." At the moment he's watching NASCAR, relaxing a little before commanding the Grand Ole Opry stage to celebrate his 50th anniversary as a member of country music's most elite hall of fame. "You can always tell if a guy knows where his roots are," he says. "I like the real thing."

At 79, Wagoner knows a little something about keeping it real. With 60-odd albums under his belt, he's just released another, "Wagonmaster," and later this month he'll open for the hottest act in rock: the White Stripes—at Madison Square Garden, no less. Wagoner isn't the only roots-based, hard-country musician approaching 80 who has refused to step out of the spotlight. Merle Haggard, George Jones, Charlie Louvin, Loretta Lynn, Willie Nelson—they're all on the road again. Actually, they never really left, performing and recording as if they're on some magical musical Viagra. Wagoner isn't even the oldest guy out there. Last month Louvin and Ralph Stanley, both 80, separately appeared at Bonnaroo, the four-day rock festival in Tennessee. Their stamina is all the more impressive given that Nashville rolled up the welcome mat with the slick ascent of Alan Jackson, Garth Brooks and a roster of telegenic younger artists in the late 1980s. Almost all the kings and queens of country now record on independent labels from Los Angeles to—gasp!—New York. And yet the oldsters are thriving just as contemporary pop country seems to be losing its way.

Tune in, and it becomes clear why contemporary-pop-country sales are down more than 30 percent over last year, its fans either downloading illegally or jumping ship altogether. "Everybody knows what real country music is," says George Jones, 75, who has had 167 songs in the top 100 since 1955. "And it's definitely not what's happening today." On the radio you'll hear "American Idol" pretty girl Carrie Underwood, Big & Rich's tedious covers of both Donna Summer and AC/DC, the insufferably whiny Rascal Flatts and even Bon Jovi, a hair-metal band from Jersey. The hallmarks of country's current crop are crisp production, pop phrasing and cheesy lyrics. "It sounds like '80s rock ballads with fiddles," says actor Billy Bob Thornton, who has played drums with Wagoner. But classic country is caught in a Catch-22: the radio stations that play it often won't touch the older singers' new stuff, and the contemporary stations won't play their new music because the singers are, well, too old. "They're looking for a younger demographic with disposable income," says Wade Jessen, Billboard's Nashville director of charts. "It can be awfully disheartening."

And, if you see these guys performing live, it can be plain ignorant. The pierced and tattooed audience at Louisville's ear X-tacy record store is not the kind of crowd you'd expect for an 80-year-old in New Balance sneakers. But Charlie Louvin is invigorated by the turnout, one of 100 shows he'll do this year. When Louvin (half of the brimstone-breathing Louvin Brothers, who rose to fame in the 1950s) tears into classics like the murderous "Knoxville Girl" and "The Kneeling Drunkards Plea," you get why Grandpa might appeal to the whippersnappers. The music is stripped down to bass, guitar, drums and Dobro. Louvin's voice isn't what it was when he sang with his brother, Ira, but there is a pureness to the sound. "Stuff like Charlie Louvin's is old, and it's the real deal," says John Timmons, ear X-tacy's owner. "It's new to kids."

I WONDER whether they'd like The Porter Wagoner Show, in all its cheesy 1960s glory, these kids in search of Real.

Probably.

Pampers or Huggies?

Louisiana's junior U.S. senator, David "Let's Get Down Tonight" Vitter -- if he has any love for his state or any concern for its tarnished reputation -- needs to be a man and resign his office.

Porno king Larry Flynt has done to him what he did to ex-Louisiana congressman Bob Livingston, telling all the world about how another Louisiana pol has been thinking with his little head instead of his big one.

And then a notorious New Orleans madam to the rich and connected got into the act, "defending" Vitter's good name by telling the world what a stand up guy the senator was when he frequented her cathouse as a mere state legislator.

I'm sure Vitter's missus is thrilled to hear it.

AS I AM SURE his benighted state is thrilled at the very thought of what might come next to make the rest of America laugh at it. And make the rest of America feel better about conjuring up new reasons to cut off the hurricane recovery cash flow and let the horndog rustics stew in their own body fluids.

And you know the Vitter saga is gonna get worse. That is, worse for Louisiana. It'll just get more amusing for the rest of us.

TAKE THIS, for instance. It comes from a New Orleans blog, Your Right Hand Thief:

Tonight I got confirmation from a solid inside source who has no ideological ax to grind. The source said Vitter was a client at Canal Street, and provided some additional details that shed light on Maier's comment that there was "more to the business than sex". [Update: Based on her comments about Vitter not having "unusual predilections", I would interpret this comment to mean something like companionship and social interaction rather than fetishes... etc.] These details are not for the faint of heart, either.

We're talking about, among other things, Diaper Fetishism. That's right folks, according to a trusted inside source, Vitter was well known among other Canal Street Brothel patrons to like diapers as well as other bizarre "fetishes". I don't have much more info than that from my source, except that some of the other patrons at the brothel included a well known business-minded New Orleans Republican and a well known Democratic ex-governor. There are many other well known patrons who never held public office, too. You've probably heard various names floated about.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love that New Orleans has more than its share of sex fetishists and preeverts who [edited for taste -- R21]. This ain't a vanilla town, kids.

But the thought of Vitter prancing around in a dipey is a bit jarring, especially since I'm changing those nasty things every day. I can't help picturing the scene and wondering about the details. I assume they were adult sized. But were they cloth or disposable? Did they get dirty? Was there a diaper genie available? What about a tube of Boudreaux's? Were they customized in Vitter Blue? How old were Vitter's children when this was going on? Did he change diapers in the morning and then wear them at night?

*shudder*

NOW, THIS MAY BE SOLID . . . or not. The blog could be full of bull, and its sources could be bull(ahem)ing the proprietor. But the press will be on the case, and people will talk -- one way or another.

And the contents of the dirty diapers will hit the fan.

And no one will be able to hear the lamentations of suffering Louisianians . . . because the rest of the country will be laughing too hard. At them.

Vitter needs to get his diapered ass out of the Senate, out of politics and go home to his family, which is suffering because he couldn't keep it in his pants. Or his Huggies, as the case may be.

For a good time. . . .

A former New Orleans madam went to the press to out Louisiana's junior U.S. senator as an ex-client, because the "bitch" who allegedly supplied him with Washington call girls dared to "throw this number out there without a face, and without telling people what good he's done."

Ladies and gentlemen, now that's original.

Unfortunately, that Jeanette Maier first met David Vitter in the mid-1990s at a fishing rodeo where she and her high-priced whores were hired as "entertainment" for local politicians is not particularly novel in the Gret Stet.

The (New Orleans) Times-Picayune, naturally, has the dispiriting details:

After the initial meeting, Maier said she saw Vitter at the bordello and knew him as someone who patronized her call girls. She denied having a personal relationship with him and said he had stopped visiting the establishment by the time it was raided by federal agents in 2001.

"Sometimes we'd cross paths," Maier said of their encounters at the house.

"He was not a big regular client that he's so clear in my mind that I can remember every time he walked in the door."

Vitter, a Republican, did not respond to numerous attempts to contact him for comment.

Maier's attorney, Vinny Mosca, cast doubt on her recollections Tuesday. He said investigators seized a list of client names, nicknames and phone numbers from the brothel, but those documents never implicated Vitter.

"Through all my association representing Jeanette in the case, his name never came up," Mosca said. "It's not on the list. He was not caught on the wiretaps. That doesn't mean he wasn't there, but in all this time I never knew him to be. To my knowledge he didn't go to the brothel."

Vitter this week became the first elected leader outed as a patron of the Washington escort service run by Deborah Palfrey, the so-called "D.C. Madam." He is the first elected official connected to Maier, known locally as the "Canal Street Madam." The only other clients named, a pair of Slidell businessmen, were charged for hiring prostitutes for a private cruise.

The senator apologized Monday night for a "very serious sin in my past" in connection with the Palfrey case, but he made no public appearances Tuesday.

Maier, 48, spoke openly about Vitter's patronage of the New Orleans brothel in an interview Tuesday, as she sat atop the king-sized bed in her Gretna home. The bedroom was decorated in a Southwestern motif, and a rosary hung from the headboard. She puffed on a cigarette as she talked.

She said she decided to name Vitter as a client because she was angry that the Washington allegations made him look like a one-dimensional adulterer, when she sees him as a "good man" who has helped the New Orleans area recover from Hurricane Katrina.

"All I wanted to get across when I saw the paper this morning is this bitch -- she calls herself a madam -- she's gonna throw this number out without a face, and without telling people what good he's done," Maier said, adding that the allegations would "just piss off his wife and create all this havoc in his life."

I COULD BE ALL WET, but isn't it customary for a "good man" not to screw around on his wife? And isn't it standard operating procedure for a "good man" not to lie through his teeth when somebody spills the beans about his philandering when he's running for Congress on a "family values" platform?

From The (Baton Rouge) Advocate:

Former Republican Gov. David Treen, who announced Tuesday that he’s considering another gubernatorial bid, accepted Vitter’s contrition.

“I don’t wish trouble on anybody,” said Treen, who lost to Vitter in a bid for the U.S. House seat in 1999. “I’m not going to condemn him, he has apologized and said he asked for forgiveness, and I take him at his word.”

(snip)

Louisiana Republican State Central Committee member Vincent Bruno on Tuesday called for Vitter’s resignation. Bruno was working on Treen’s 1998 campaign when the story came out about a Louisiana prostitute, who contacted the campaign, Bruno said.

At the time, a Vitter spokeswoman chalked the story up to negative campaigning. Vitter, in a radio interview at the time, called the allegations “absolutely and completely untrue.”

Vitter “was basically dishonest with the voters in the congressional district,” Bruno said. “He was running on family values and it was a bunch of hooey. He’s a phony and it caught up with him.”

OH, YEAH . . . AND THERE'S THIS. We must remember to give Salon.com props for calling it -- big time -- when Vitter was running for U.S. Senate in 2004:

As Vitter geared up in 2002 to run for governor, his bitter race against Treen came back to haunt him. A Treen supporter, local Republican Party official Vincent Bruno, blurted out on a radio show that he believed Vitter had once had an extramarital affair.

The Louisiana Weekly newspaper followed up. Bruno told the paper that the young woman had contacted the Treen campaign in 1999 because she was upset that Vitter was portraying himself as a family-values conservative and trotting out his wife and children for campaign photo ops. Bruno, who declined to comment for this story, and John Treen interviewed the woman, who said she had worked under the name "Leah."

But after nearly a year of regular paid assignations with Vitter, the lawmaker asked her to divulge her real name, according to Treen, citing the account he said she gave him. Her name was Wendy Cortez, Treen said. She said Vitter's response was electric. "He said, 'Oh, my God! I can't see you anymore," John Treen told me, citing the woman's account to him and noting that Vitter's wife is also named Wendy. And Wendy Vitter does not appear to be the indulgent type.

Asked by an interviewer in 2000 whether she could forgive her husband if she learned he'd had an extramarital affair, as Hillary Clinton and Bob Livingston's wife had done, Wendy Vitter told the Times-Picayune: "I'm a lot more like Lorena Bobbitt than Hillary. If he does something like that, I'm walking away with one thing, and it's not alimony, trust me."

Vitter, Bruno and others interviewed the alleged prostitute several times in 1999. She also met with a respected local television reporter, Richard Angelico, the Louisiana Weekly said. But Angelico declined to run with the story after she would not agree to go on camera, the paper said. Vitter denied the allegations. But shortly before the Louisiana Weekly was set to publish its story, he dropped out of the governor's race, saying he needed to deal with marital problems. "Our [marriage] counseling sessions have ... led us to the rather obvious conclusion that it's not time to run for governor," Vitter said at the time.

Chris Tidmore, the author of the Louisiana Weekly story, said he interviewed the alleged prostitute by telephone and reviewed the notes of her sessions with Treen and Bruno before publishing his story. He said she had moved away from New Orleans and is now living under an assumed name. Salon could not locate her.

Amid Vitter's denials and the reluctance of his accuser to go public, no newspapers in Louisiana reported on the allegations. And, when Sen. Breaux announced his retirement last December, Vitter jumped into the race to succeed the conservative Democrat. The far-right and confrontational Vitter was the opposite of Breaux, who had been a consensus-builder in Washington with close relationships with Republicans.

GOOD LORD. You have to start wondering whether Louisiana's only chance might involve France buying it back from les Americains.

I don't think Congress is going to be in a giving mood as the New Orleans area continues to struggle in its recovery from Katrina. But fed-up members may be in a mood to sell.

Hey, y'all, look what I did!

We invaded Iraq because Saddam was mixed up in 9/11 and was going to nuke us -- maybe poison gas, whatever -- at 9 o'clock on Tuesday.

We invaded Iraq to teach all them A-rab countries a lesson they won't forget!

We invaded Iraq to save the brave Iraqi people from the murderous tyranny of Saddam Hussein! We will restore their dignity and bring them freedom and democracy!

We invaded Iraq to stabilize the Middle East through whiskey, sexy, democracy!

ACTUALLY, I think we invaded Iraq to bring about the end of the world through irony overload. You really, really, need to watch this report by Richard Engel from the NBC Nightly News on Tuesday.

Here's the money quote:

"God punish those who stole Iraq's dignity."

FRANKLY, I think He's working on it.

Vous dites que vous voulez une révolution?

The Revolution keeps breaking out in the funniest places. In Quebec, for example.

Here, the Quebecois folk group Mes Aïeux (My Ancestors) has a video to go along with its song "Dégénération," a word you understand in either français ou anglais. Degeneration . . . of generations.

This is what the Revolution is about, garçons et filles. We're rich, we're smart (or at least we think we are) . . . and we're alienated, and our lives suck.

And every once in a while, someone stands up and says "This sucks! No! No more!" Or, in the case of Mes Aïeux, "Non! Pas encore!" And then their album sells more than 200,000 copies.

And I'm starting to feel mighty proud that some of my ancestors were Quebecois.

Watch the video. Powerful stuff.

HAT TIP: Crunchy Con

What would Jefferson Smith do?

Where, oh, where is Frank Capra when we need him?

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington may be playing out in the new century as Mrs. Sheehan Goes to Washington, only with the disillusionment taking place before the anti-war activist even aspired to political office.

This story from The Associated Press . . .

Cindy Sheehan, the soldier’s mother who galvanized the anti-war movement, said Sunday that she plans to run against House Speaker Nancy Pelosi unless she introduces articles of impeachment against President Bush in the next two weeks.

Sheehan said she will run against the San Francisco Democrat in 2008 as an independent if Pelosi does not seek by July 23 to impeach Bush. That’s when Sheehan and her supporters are to arrive in Washington, D.C., after a 13-day caravan and walking tour starting next week from the group’s war protest site near Bush’s Crawford ranch.

“Democrats and Americans feel betrayed by the Democratic leadership,” Sheehan told The Associated Press. “We hired them to bring an end to the war. I’m not too far from San Francisco, so it wouldn’t be too big of a move for me. I would give her a run for her money.”

. . . plus this . . .

Nearly half of the US public wants President George W. Bush to face impeachment, and even more favor that fate for Vice President Dick Cheney, according to a poll out Friday.

The survey by the American Research Group found that 45 percent support the US House of Representatives beginning impeachment proceedings against Bush, with 46 percent opposed, and a 54-40 split in favor when it comes to Cheney.

The study by the private New Hampshire-based ARG canvassed 1,100 Americans by telephone July 3-5 and had an error margin of plus or minus three percentage points. The findings are available on ARG's Internet site.

The White House declined to comment on the poll, the latest bad news for a president who has seen his public opinion standings dragged to record lows by the unpopular war in Iraq.

The US Constitution says presidents and vice presidents can be impeached -- that is, formally charged by the House -- for "treason, bribery, or other high crimes and misdemeanors" by a simple majority vote.

Conviction by the Senate, which requires a two-thirds majority, means removal from office.

. . . means that we could be in for some interesting times.

I'm just sayin'.

You are a fluke of the universe

In The Wall Street Journal, Jeff Zaslow writes about Mister Rogers and historical reassessment. Long story short, some folks think the late kiddie-show host unwittingly helped turn a generation of young people into self-centered brats who think you owe them.

Big time.

From the column:

Don Chance, a finance professor at Louisiana State University, says it dawned on him last spring. The semester was ending, and as usual, students were making a pilgrimage to his office, asking for the extra points needed to lift their grades to A's.
"They felt so entitled," he recalls, "and it just hit me. We can blame Mr. Rogers."

Fred Rogers, the late TV icon, told several generations of children that they were "special" just for being whoever they were. He meant well, and he was a sterling role model in many ways. But what often got lost in his self-esteem-building patter was the idea that being special comes from working hard and having high expectations for yourself.

Now Mr. Rogers, like Dr. Spock before him, has been targeted for re-evaluation. And he's not the only one. As educators and researchers struggle to define the new parameters of parenting, circa 2007, some are revisiting the language of child ego-boosting. What are the downsides of telling kids they're special? Is it a mistake to have children call us by our first names? When we focus all conversations on our children's lives, are we denying them the insights found when adults talk about adult things?

Some are calling for a recalibration of the mind-sets and catch-phrases that have taken hold in recent decades. Among the expressions now being challenged:

"You're special." On the Yahoo Answers Web site, a discussion thread about Mr. Rogers begins with this posting: "Mr. Rogers spent years telling little creeps that he liked them just the way they were. He should have been telling them there was a lot of room for improvement. ... Nice as he was, and as good as his intentions may have been, he did a disservice."

Signs of narcissism among college students have been rising for 25 years, according to a recent study led by a San Diego State University psychologist. Obviously, Mr. Rogers alone can't be blamed for this. But as Prof. Chance sees it, "he's representative of a culture of excessive doting."

Prof. Chance teaches many Asian-born students, and says they accept whatever grade they're given; they see B's and C's as an indication that they must work harder, and that their elders assessed them accurately. They didn't grow up with Mr. Rogers or anyone else telling them they were born special.

By contrast, American students often view lower grades as a reason to "hit you up for an A because they came to class and feel they worked hard," says Prof. Chance. He wishes more parents would offer kids this perspective: "The world owes you nothing. You have to work and compete. If you want to be special, you'll have to prove it."

FUNNY, ISN'T IT, how what was a given Way Back When -- as in, when I was a kid -- is now the stuff of counterrevolutionary insurgencies. They oughtn't be brain surgery, these basic concepts.

OK, kids, listen up. There's two simple things you need to remember:

One . . . you are precious and have great dignity because you are a child of God. He thought you were important enough to create . . . and to die for.

Two . . . that doesn't mean your (excrement) don't stink, or that you're God's Gift to (fill in the blank). Or that if I were a professor and you turned in a term paper that made it manifestly clear you didn't know the difference between "your" and "you're," "Sundays" and "Sunday's" (not to mention "sundaes") or "its" and "it's," I would flunk your illiterate self.

Which would mean you're no great shakes. Though it might mean you grate on me.

As a corrective to a lifetime of coddling, I submit to the younger generation the lyrics of a great and wise song performed by the National Lampoon philosophy troupe. (Not troop.)

Deteriorata

Introduction

You are a fluke
Of the universe.
You have no right to be here.....
Deteriorata! Deteriorata!

Go placidly
Amid the noise and waste.
And remember what comfort there may be
In owning a piece thereof.

Avoid quiet and passive persons
Unless you are in need of sleep.

Rotate your tires.

Speak glowingly of those greater than yourself
And heed well their advice,
Even though they be turkeys.

Know what to kiss.....and when!

Consider that two wrongs never make a right
But that THREE.........do.

Wherever possible, put people on hold.

Be comforted that in the face of all aridity and disillusionment
And despite the changing fortunes of time,
There is always a big future in computer maintenance.

Chorus

You are a fluke
Of the universe.
You have no right to be here.
And whether you can hear it or not
The universe is laughing behind your back.

Remember the Pueblo.

Strive at all times to bend, fold, spindle and mu-ti-late.

Know yourself.
If you need help, call the FBI.

Exercise caution in your daily affairs,
Especially with those persons closest to you.
That lemon on your left, for instance.

Be assured that a walk through the ocean of most souls
Would scarcely get your feet wet.

Fall not in love therefore;
It will stick to your face.

Gracefully surrender the things of youth:
The birds, clean air, tuna, Taiwan
And let not the sands of time
Get in your lunch.

Hire people with hooks.

For a good time call 606-4311;
Ask for "Ken."

Take heart amid the deepening gloom
That your dog is finally getting enough cheese.

And reflect that whatever misfortune may be your lot
It could only be worse in Milwaukee.

Chorus

You are a fluke
Of the universe.
You have no right to be here.
And whether you can hear it or not
The universe is laughing behind your back.

Therefore, make peace with your god
Whatever you conceive him to be---
Hairy thunderer, or cosmic muffin.

With all its hopes, dreams, promises and urban renewal
The world continues to deteriorate.

GIVE UP!

Reprise

You are a fluke
Of the universe.
You have no right to be here.
And whether you can hear it or not
The universe is laughing behind your back.

Do Americans have some sort of jackass gene?

The only thing I have to say about this story from The Associated Press is to ask a simple question: What part of "You are a guest in their country" don't Americans understand?

Good on the Brazilians for raising hell. Here are the details from MSNBC:

In a joke that made Brazilians cringe and forced the U.S. Olympic Committee to apologize, a USOC worker scrawled “Welcome to the Congo!” on a board in the organization’s Rio de Janeiro media center for the Pan American Games.

Rio’s O Globo newspaper published a photo of the message on its front page Saturday, and ran a headline saying the joke was “full of prejudice.” The message was condemned in a nation extremely sensitive about being compared to less-developed countries, especially by Americans — who often are perceived as arrogant by Brazilians.

The controversy occurred as American athletes arrived in Latin America’s largest country to compete in the event that starts Friday.

The USOC issued a “deep apology to the people of Brazil and Rio de Janeiro” in a statement Saturday, and said the worker who wrote the phrase was disciplined and is no longer a member of the U.S. delegation to the games.

USOC officials also apologized in person to Rio Mayor Cesar Maia, senior officials of the Brazilian Olympic Committee and the Pan American Sports Organization. The USOC statement did not name the employee.

The picture in O Globo showed USOC media employee Kevin Neuendorf in front of the whiteboard, and the story quoted him as saying it was written because “it’s really hot in Rio.”

O Globo noted that Rio is in the middle of its South American winter, and that the USOC office at the games is air conditioned. The average temperature in July in Rio is 78 degrees — on Saturday, the temperature was in the low 80s.

On Rio’s Copacabana Beach, Brazilians said it reinforced their belief that Americans frequently stereotype other countries.

“Americans are full of prejudices,” said Alessandra Teixeira, a 29-year old model. “Everything for them is bad, and they make it worse.”

C'est trop mal pour le président. Je rit.

"Please, don't impeach me."


* * *

Agence France-Presse is the bearer of encouraging news. Apparently, Americans are more fed up with President Catastrophe than I thought:

Nearly half of the US public wants President George W. Bush to face impeachment, and even more favor that fate for Vice President Dick Cheney, according to a poll out Friday.

The survey by the American Research Group found that 45 percent support the US House of Representatives beginning impeachment proceedings against Bush, with 46 percent opposed, and a 54-40 split in favor when it comes to Cheney.

The study by the private New Hampshire-based ARG canvassed 1,100 Americans by telephone July 3-5 and had an error margin of plus or minus three percentage points. The findings are available on ARG's Internet site.

The White House declined to comment on the poll, the latest bad news for a president who has seen his public opinion standings dragged to record lows by the unpopular war in Iraq.

The US Constitution says presidents and vice presidents can be impeached -- that is, formally charged by the House -- for "treason, bribery, or other high crimes and misdemeanors" by a simple majority vote.

Conviction by the Senate, which requires a two-thirds majority, means removal from office.

Girls! Girls! Girls! Rock! X-treme! Psycho, dude! Did I say X-treme?!?

Let's get psycho, dude!

We're X-treme for the music on the Revolution 21 podcast! We're going to rock this place, man! X-treme rock! X-treme psycho, dude! Gnarly!

Dude!

On the Big Show this week we have rock! Rock! ROCK! And gnarly stuff!

Did I mention we're psycho? And we ROCK HARD!

And we're X-treme! Did I mention X-treme? X-TREMELY PSYCHO!!!!

Gnarly!

Dude!

GIRLS! GIRLS! GIRLS! (X-tremely PSYCHO!!! ForJesus.)

LET'S GET X-TREME, DUDE!!!!!!! EXTREME SPORTS! EXTREME MUSIC!

X-TREME! XXX . . . treme! Girls! XXXTREME! X-TREME!!!!!!!!

OK, NOW THAT EVERYBODY has come in from the search engines -- most under completely false pretenses -- and are feeling like they've been suckered and baited and switched, does that mean I'm ready for the Big Leagues of evangelism?

Just wondering is all.

Oh, yeah . . . the show! Well, I think it's a pretty good one this week, full of musical twists and turns and quirky variety.

Maybe you will, too. Perhaps you'll like it to an X-TREME!!!! degree, and will tell people it's XXX (tremely) cool!

Gnarly, even.

(Oh, the cheesecake picture of Pamela Anderson is OK, because it is in the service of bringing souls to Jesus. In case you were wondering.)

Truth in advertising

LuisPalauza is coming to the Big O next weekend with the Luis Palau Heartland Festival.

Oh, Lawd, there's gonna be bands and motorcycle daredevils and skater dudes and BMXers. There's gonna be a salute to the troops and a sports luncheon extravaganza and a to-do for the ladies of the Heartland.

According to the LuisPalauza festival website, Stephen Baldwin is gonna be at the Heartland Festival to spread his Gnarly Gospel as the BMXers and skater dudes and the Riders for Christ do their thing.

Gnarly. Dude.

Funny thing is, the Archdiocese of Omaha is on board with this orgasm of bread and circuses baiting and switching 'em all into the Kingdom of God. (As if.) And the LuisPalauza people are advertising Stephen Baldwin and his Livin It tour as being a major attraction -- as if an encounter with the God of the Universe is too underwhelming to stand on its own.

So, how is the archdiocese going to deal with getting in bed with. . . .

I'm going to be a bit of a jerk to make a point. Now you're doing that dance that most people do. And I was at the same place that you are. "I'm a good guy." And even the Roman Catholic Church, nowhere in the bible does it say you can pray to Mary. Prayer is a form of worship and the Lord said that you will have no other God before me. Now look at all of the problems you're seeing in the Roman Catholic Church. Now, am I saying that's God's wrath? That's not for me to decide or even make a statement about. I can't judge that. I'm just little schmuck, Stephen Baldwin. God says that there is only one way and I didn't believe that, myself, until I tried it and his spirit came into my life and into my heart, and confirmed that the Jesus Christ truth was real.

UMM HMMMM. Once again, I ask: When I kick the bucket, will there be any Catholics left to bury my Papist cadaver?

At any rate, there's nothing I really can say about the upcoming spectacle that Flannery O'Connor hasn't said much better. Like this:

What people don't realize is how much religion costs. They think faith is a big electric blanket, when of course it is the cross. It is much harder to believe than not to believe. If you feel you can't believe, you must at least do this: keep an open mind. Keep it open toward faith, keep wanting it, keep asking for it, and leave the rest to God.

Steve Taylor -- all but tarred and feathered by fellow evangelicals during his days as a Christian recording artist -- took O'Connor's reflection and turned it into a classic song.

Which you can watch above, courtesy of YouTube.

The hoi polloi have souls, too

In my new book, The Tide Is High and Debbie Harry Was Hot -- due out whenever I get around to writing it, which probably will be never -- I write (or would like to write . . . whatever) that I have no use for people telling me how great the Catholic Church is because it's roping in lots and lots of the Right Kind of People (TM).

In fact, I'll probably write (or not) that people like David J. Hartline who write books like The Tide Is Turning Toward Catholicism, are acting like the Church is some kind of holy whorehouse, and they're pimping out the prettiest new converts to get more people on our team.

Yay Team!

IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, stuff like this pisses me off. And, while I'm thinking about it . . . Is there anybody in the Catholic Church with more than a fourth-grade education WHO ISN'T HAWKING A BLOODY BOOK?????????

Here's some of Hartline's July 2 column on Catholic Exchange:

It started with Scott Hahn and it is still going strong. The number of prominent Protestant clergy and theologians coming to the Catholic Church has been nothing short of remarkable. Priests like Father Dwight Longenecker and Father Alvin Kimel are new to the Church and they bring a lot of enthusiasm, scholarship and wit and humor with them. Father Longenecker might be the only priest who is a graduate of the admittedly anti-Catholic institute of higher learning, Bob Jones University. Deacon Alex Jones, a former pastor in a prominent African-American Pentacostalist Church in Detroit left behind a vibrant, growing congregation. However, the pull of Catholicism's 2,000 year-old history and her ability to weather many storms was too much for Deacon Jones. He now travels around the country telling his conversion story. In addition, there have been prominent theologians and university scholars like Dr Francis Beckwith, who very recently was the head of the Evangelical Theological Society. He came home to the Church in April. The aftershocks from his reversion to Catholicism (he was born into the faith but later left the Church for Evangelicalism during his teenage years in the heyday of the "Jesus Movement,") still are being felt. He followed Joshua Hochschild who surprised many in the theological world when he recently converted to Catholicism.

In my book The Tide Is Turning Toward Catholicism, I note that while many in the media, even some Catholics, are focused on those who have left the Church, few have noticed the significance of so many prominent members of other faiths who have come home to Rome. It should be noted that many who left the Catholic Faith, usually for a non-denominational mega church, often can't give a theological reason. They can only say that they enjoy the liveliness and entertainment that a mega church often provides. It is most encouraging that Catholicism is getting the crème of the crop from other churches. Entry into the Church for these converts is usually made after a long, difficult journey to come to terms with something that they never thought possible. For some, like Scott Hahn and Father Dwight Longenecker, the Faith they once mocked is the Faith they have changed their lives and alienated family and friends to join, a decision not taken lightly.

I WILL BE DULY IMPRESSED by a Catholic! Catholic! Rah! Rah! Rah! book when I see some Catholic website hawking one that touts all the bums and alcoholics and runaways and half-illiterate trailer-park residents who are Swimming the Tiber, Which Is Full of Professors and Celebrities, by the Way (TM) as a sign of the Amazing Vitality (You'll Laugh! You'll Cry! You'll Donate to EWTN!) of Holy Mother Church.

Frankly, that approach would be much more biblical.

After all, we hear much in the Gospels about Jesus transforming and converting lepers, sluts, thieves and nuts. But I don't recall the part about the how Kingdom of God is at hand because He brought Caiaphas, Herod and Pilate into the fold.

So stop it already with all the celebrating of "celebrity conversions." The Holy Spirit, I don't think, prompts one single person to "swim the Tiber" to up the Catholic presence at Faculty Club cocktail parties. Or so we might have the aesthetic sense of the Anglicans.

It's all about immortal souls, stupid. And those can't be sold, touted, exploited or bought at Amazon.com.

Deal with it.

It's not just insane, it's baaaaaaaaad TV

Not only are the Hamasidal Islamic extremists of the Gaza Strip a bunch of raving, spit-flying-from-the-mouth loonies, they also put on some seriously bad television shows. And I know bad television . . . I'm a Catholic who's spent serious time watching EWTN.

EWTN tends to be bad TV in the sense of a good message presented in the clunkiest way possible. Hamasidal Television is more a case of what if young Hitler and his buddies said "Hey, liebens! Let's putten on der show!"

And if little 'Dolfie and his storm kinders HAD put on a show, they probably would have come up with the exploits of Farfour the Jew-Hating Rat, who ends his kiddie-show career by getting "murdered" by a bad actor playing a Bad Jew.

You really need to watch the clip to understand.

ANYWAY, can anybody tell me what the deal is with Farfour's dying grandfather being a humanoid and Farfour being a very large rodent? Is Hamas trying to tell us that the Jews have unleashed a secret genetic weapon that is systematically turning formerly homo sapien Palestinians into giant rats?

Or is it something as simple as a devolutionary process related to generations of pathological hatred in the context of an honor-revenge social construct?

Inquiring minds want to know.

HAT TIP: Crunchy Con.

Bong Hits Smut 4 Jesus

Mingle2 has a website-rating tool, and it says I'm a dirty old man.

If Mingle2 (some sort of online-dating site) thinks this blog is a filthy as it gets on the Web -- NC-17 being the new XXX (Damn, that's not helping my rating!), kind of like 40 is the new 30 -- one can only assume that Mingle2 obviously must be some kind of online Church Lady's Lonely Hearts Club.