The Omnipotent Poobah Speaks!

Randomness: Keyword Sex Style

2010-01-09T13:09:00.001-08:00

Randomness: Keyword Sex Style

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Randomness: Big Headlight Style

2009-08-27T16:47:00.001-07:00

Randomness: Big Headlight Style

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We've Moved

2007-06-14T17:34:00.001-07:00

You can now find the site at:
http://omnipotentpoobah.com
or
the new RSS feed at:

http://omnipotentpoobah.com/?feed=rss2

Tech Tags: omnipotent+poobah

Playing Politics

2007-06-13T18:57:00.000-07:00

Politicians use standard phrases to protect themselves while throwing mud at someone else. For example, "bipartisanship" means one or two people from one side of the aisle joined the other side in defiance of their party's jackboot. Or "compromise", meaning: "This bill is too complex and rife with unrelated line items for anyone to agree with, but we held our noses and voted for it anyway." See immigration reform or campaign finance reform.

My favorite is "playing politics". Roberts Rules of Order requires all politicians to say this at least 10 times a day. Aside from the obvious irony - like accusing someone of playing politics while engaging in party-motivated politics themselves - the statement is actually an apology for doing their job. One definition of politics is, "The art or science of government or governing, especially the governing of a political entity, such as a nation, and the administration and control of its internal and external affairs."

Did I Miss Something?

Isn't that what politicians are supposed to do or did I miss something?

They took up this mantra to hornswaggle voters into thinking politicians are nothing but poor, downtrodden victims. "Those evil guys from the other side brought this up just to embarrass me. True, I feel the same way, but my responsibility to party government trumps my responsibility to govern the nation." There's not necessarily anything wrong with playing politics. It's the way our democracy works and is essential to get things done. The problem is when politicians use "playing politics" as a synonym for "obstruction", wherein a politician obstructs issues through pure spite or overwhelming party loyalty. See Gonzales no confidence vote or any debate about Iraq.

But perhaps the saddest thing about "playing politics" is the way voters are so accustomed to the stupid charge they no longer question it. If they do, they support the charge more often than not. Mitch McConnell's disingenuous condemnation of the Gonzales no confidence vote is a case in point. Democrats didn't introduce the bill solely to embarrass republicans. They introduced it because the AG from hell has palpable problems - something many republicans agree on. Democrats introduced it to counter-balance a recalcitrant president who refuses to admit he has a problem. That's not playing politics, that's firing a symbolic warning shot across Admiral Asshat's bow in an attempt to get him to sit up and take notice. There's scant evidence he will, but at least democrats can rightfully say they tried everything.

What About Harry?

And Harry Reid doesn't get off either. He's a serial repeater of the playing politics game. When Mitch pitched the round above, Harry was right there, bat in hand, ready to say the republicans were all rabid obstructionists, obfuscating the fact that at least some of them don't have a problem with Gonzo - although I'm at a loss to explain why.

So the next time you see El Jefe standing in front of a row of telegenic soldiers to charge democrats with playing politics with Iraq or Harry Reid giving a school master scolding to republicans for opposing something he wants - think. If you unquestionably accept these charges, you're being hornswaggled...

And I have a great used car to sell you...

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics omnipotent+poobah

Google, My Heart Bleeds for Thee

2007-06-12T16:34:00.000-07:00

Shameless Self-Promotion Note: I'm in the process of migrating The Omnipotent Poobah Speaks! to it's own domain (omnipotentpoobah.com). I'd thought it about it for quite some time, but when their spambots locked me out of my account for nearly a week, I decided the time had come.

I should be ready for the change-over within the next few days. Meanwhile, you can continue to stop by this location, but watch for the redirect when the final move is afoot.

Feel free to drop in at the new place to see how things are coming together and leave your comments at either place.

Thanks for your continued support.

Google, my heart bleeds for thee. You're complaining about mean old Bill Gates and his Vista O/S anti-competitively keeping you from your plans for world domination. What a shame!

Not that you don't have a point. BillCo has done similar things for years and has been pinched by regulators here and abroad for doing it. Each time their response is, "who us?" and off to court they go. Lawyers are probably the biggest block in the Microsoft software development org chart. Just ask Netscape how that works out.

Who's Complaining About Who?

But your case is pretty weak. In fact, Bill might even make the same complaint about you. Your near-daily purchase of net-related companies looks an awful lot like Bill's strategy of buying your way into market dominance. You have a war chest amassed during the Dot Com boom when investors profligately threw money at anything that began with a small "e" - eAsshats.com for example - and you know how to use it. Despite your Gatesian talk of innovation, the innovating pretty much stops when the 22-year old wunderkind running the new shop takes his millions and goes on extended vacation to raise alpacas in Malibu.

Owned and Operated by Google

But the most frightening thing is the personal intrusions you impose on your users. You already track us from space with photos detailed enough to count the shingles on our roofs and you're introducing 360º views of individual streets clearly showing faces and almost capable of peeking into bedrooms to see who's into anal sex or man-on-dog porn. You've already built massive databases of Google users to drive marketing schemes and search results. You've even attempted to scan the entire Library of Congress and all the public records from every segment of government. Bill only wanted to dominate the desktop. You want to see the sky imprinted with a "Welcome to Earth, Owned and Operated by Google" banner.

Google, my heart bleeds for thee. Maybe the public could form an alliance with Bill to protect us from you.

We'd certainly be screwed, but it might be preferable to being Googled.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: technology google microsoft omnipotent+poobah

Anybody Seen My Yacht?

2007-06-11T18:32:00.000-07:00

The rich are different than you and me. Bill Gates once bragged the IRS needed two computers to process his taxes and argued that the city of Redmond, WA should value his Taj Mahal of a home completely worthless because it's so big and personally customized no one would ever want to buy the place.

I'm not against a person making a buck - or in CEO's, athlete's, and movie star's cases - a lot of bucks. When they perform well they can make a lot of money for others. That's not necessarily bad, that's capitalism. But without a reasonable limit to the largess, everyone loses. Inflated movie star salaries drive ticket prices to $10 a pop. Athlete salaries frequently make sport facilities unprofitable and drive ticket prices so high, you have to mortgage your home for a sunny afternoon of baseball.

But CEOs? They've gone over the top.

The Dark Suits

According to a recent Editor & Publisher article, Yahoo - whose profit and stock performance has been in the toilet lately - paid CEO Terry Semel $71.7 million last year. Many people argue giant-sized compensation packages are justified for what the dark-suits do for the company, but Semel's performance seems more a question of what he does to the company. Unless Semel makes money soon, many people - considerably less able to afford it - will lose their jobs and investors will lose on investments. However, if past corporate decision-making is any indication, Semel's pay will go up despite the facts. Even if his compensation didn't change a penny, returning $71.7 million would go a long way toward improving the company's bottom line.

Financial analysts have predicted a compensation downturn for quite awhile but it just keeps rising. Federal reporting rules now require more robust explanations in corporate financial statements, but because of the unbelievably complex nature of compensation plans it's almost impossible to tell how much a CEO makes. The analysts, many of whom advocated these plump salaries in the go-go 90s, grossly under-estimated how little boards would do to reign in the costs. That seems a short-sighted view that ignores boards of hand-picked sycophants who also receive lots of butter on their bread.

Funny, that sounds a lot like Congress.

Fair? Feh.

Are these salaries fair? No, but that doesn't matter. There is lots of unfairness in the world. Are people jealous of them? Yes, but that doesn't matter either. Are they justified? Eh. Some people believe in the trickle-down theory, which suggests the wads of cash grow a more robust economy. However, trickle-down seems like an inefficient way to do that - and I'm not alone in that belief. But the final analysis begs the question, is it common sense to lavish that much money on one individual? I emphatically believe, no.

Can a person really live any better on $71.7 million than say $10 million? Is the best way to stimulate trickle down through yacht and bizjet sales? Hardly. Would employees and investors fare better and gain greater returns on their investments of sweat equity and money is CEO salaries were trimmed? Yes. It would be nice if more CEOs had common sense and actually plowed as much money as possible back into the companies they run.

It is, after all, what they're hired - and lavishly paid - to do.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: economics ceo+pay google microsfot omnipotent+poobah

A Tough Job Someone Has to Do

2007-06-09T09:17:00.000-07:00

We've kicked off another needlessly prolonged Presidential campaign season with a series of gimmicky, pointless debates. With a candidate field of somewhere between a dozen and 16 million, many Americans are wondering - if America has roughly 350 million people why are these lunkheads the best candidates we can field?

Pundits no longer hold forth on who won and who didn't because it doesn't matter. All of the candidates come off as over-polished morons with the scruples of weasels. Their answers to empty-headed softball questions are fit for nothing other than the gag reels shown nightly on the Daily Show. It's clear that hyperactive PR machines have finally honed their dubious craft to the point where candidates now have all the appeal - and apparently the intelligence - of a box of Tide detergent.

But, at least Tide has the virtue of cleaning your clothes.

The lack of marginally credible candidates has ushered in a voting rate lower than a rigged contest in a war-torn Third World dictatorship. In view of the razor-thin margins in 2000 and 2004, voting promotion groups remind people that "every vote counts more than ever". However, it's not the quantity of votes that count, it's the quality of the candidates and the intelligence of the votes that do.

We've devolved into Hobson's Choice elections where Pat Paulson is as good a choice as any of the top "real" contenders - and he's dead. Make no mistake. Had Al Gore or John Kerry won, their own brands of ineptitude and dubious achievement would have been small only in comparison to the truly world-class, stunning incompetence of the mellonhead who won. Winning is not the same thing as being qualified. In fact, sometimes winning isn't even the same thing as winning.

On the rare occasions when voters admit to voting, non-voters laugh at them as uneducated rubes who don't understand the futility of suffrage. And when their measly vote is stacked alongside a mound of corporate cash, they're not entirely wrong. In our current system, wealth makes right and the meek (and disenfranchised) will inherit the Earth only when the sun begins to rise in the west. It's no wonder cynicism abounds.

Do qualified candidates exist? In a theoretical sense - not unlike the theory that life exists on other planets - there do. How do we find them, an Earthbound SETI-style search perhaps? Once found, how do we encourage them to run? If they run, how can we be assured they won't morph into the same indecisive and conniving con-men so popular already?

The political scene is rife with imponderables like these and I certainly don't know how to fix things. The only thing I can think of is to do what I do now. Pick a poopbag, hold my nose, and cast my vote into the ether to be stolen by someone who can afford private access to voting records and has the technical expertise to change enough votes to put his own crapweasel over the top.

It's a tough job, but someone has to do it.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics campaign election omnipotent+poobah

Randomness: Head Meets Wall Edition

2007-06-07T15:08:00.000-07:00

Smelliness is Next to Godliness - A new fragrance directly from the Deity that brought you Intelligent Design. Ah, the smell of it!

The Answer to That Would be Yes - New Yorkers have always thought of the Hudson river as a cesspool, but it's a shimmering vision of loveliness compared to this.

Baby Food Jars From Hell - Everyone keeps a few jars around the house of storing those odds and ends. I think I'm going to rethink that though.

Their Other Blog is a First Aid Blog - Combine a wet cat with and short-sleeved shirt and injuries will ensue.

Cussing in Esperanto - Now this is a useful site you poephols.

Eeeeew! - Dude, isn't picking them up for your significant other embarrassing enough?

Hiding In Plain Sight - Hey! Isn't that whatsisname? You know...that guy. Oh man, I SO know that guy's name...

And Down at the NASCAR Patisserie - Having your cake and driving it too.

Why Couldn't It Have Been Air Guitar - Clearly, people in Kansas City have too much time on their hands...and bad taste in music too.

Smell the Marketing - These ad guys have been smelling a little something more than the rainbow.

MyHouse - This whole MySpace thing is getting out of hand. (HT to The Churning).

Error 000 - The page at the end of the marketing internet.

Music Soothes the Washing Beast - I want an iWasher for my birthday...as long as it doesn't play Smoke on the Water.

Somehow, I'm Not Surprised - How the hell did they get that thing up there?

Spy vs. Spy - I'm glad to see that our spy agencies are keeping up with the latest technology after 9/11. (HT to Cap'n Dyke)

Support the Troops - Throw a few of these out on the front lines and those pesky terrorists will get such a bruise. Bring it on baby, bring it on.

Yo, Jake and Elwood - A food fight gets out of hand. These kids today don't know how to do anything properly.

Does it Come in Seaweed? - Those clever Japanese are always coming up with something new. I reckon they'll be releasing heroin Sugar Smacks next.

Cut Off From Reality...Him? - George hears voices...now filmed proof.

Uncle Ben Stirs the Pot - Whoa, what a radical dude he is. Move over Malcolm X.

Plugs for Holes - What a selection! Always Aroused Girl (NSFW), are you reviewing these anytime soon? Or, how about this?

OOOOO! That Tickles - “I am not attempting this record for the money,” he said. I should hope not.

Asshats on Parade - But if you burned it, they'd be all over your ass.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: randomness humor omnipotent+poobah

Scooter Hoist by His Own Petard

2007-06-06T13:56:00.000-07:00

The judicial shoe dropped on Scooter Libby yesterday to the tune of 30 months in jail and a $250K fine. Not surprisingly, there's plenty of caterwauling about the fairness of the sentence and whether he deserves - or will get - a Presidential pardon. People are apt to frame Scooter's sentence through the window of Clinton's impeachment and in some ways the comparison is fair, in others, not so much.

The Humidor Honey

Clinton lied about his humidor honey, Monica Lewinsky. You could argue that he should've been charged and convicted of that felony offense, but he wasn't. The justice system made a legal decision not to prosecute - end of story. From a legal point of view, it doesn't matter whether you believe he's guilty. As they should, the legal system made that determination on our behalf. After all, I believe that OJ did it, but that isn't what the court found and I'm not a judge. So, I respect the decision even though I believe it is wrong. Such is the true rule of law.

However, a republican congress disagreed with the legal decision and attacked Clinton's case via a legislative process. I personally believe that was the wrong decision, but they carried it out properly under congressional rules, so I respect it. It doesn't matter which is worse, a lie about a BJ or a lie about outing a spy. Both are actionable crimes and both men payed for their transgressions. It's a little disingenuous for Libby supporters to split that hair now and charge the prosecutor played politics at Scooter's expense when a similar argument could be made about Clinton's impeachment.

Scooter's supporters think he should get off because he wasn't convicted of the original "crime" the feds investigated, but that's also true of Clinton's imbroglio. Whitewater had zero to do with blowjobs. Lying and obstruction are crimes in of themselves - not withstanding the still unproven republican claims that Plame wasn't outed. Scooter's supporters also claim he should get off because of his long and honorable government service. That argument just don't hold water. One could say Clinton served his government equally well.

It seems that on the "rightness scale" both cases are more or less equal. But a pardon is another matter entirely.

Pardon Me?

Clinton had little recourse in defending against impeachment. There was no one to pardon him. He may have lied to the grand jury, but once the affair was out he allowed the process to go forward with little whining. His supporters complained loudly, just as Scooter's do now. But at the end of the day, both men deserve punishment and are getting it.

However, Scooter does potentially have a get out of jail free card. Unlike Clinton, there is someone to pardon him. It's true other Presidents have made dubious pardons, but that shouldn't be a precedent or excuse for a Bush pardon. A pardon would highlight Bush's evident disdain for the judicial process and the rule of law he so often cites. It would also be true to form. He's often skirted the Constitution and angled to prevent legal challenges to those decisions and that is neither fair nor right. If Bush pardons Scooter, it will be an injustice.

And perhaps that, would be the biggest crime of all.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics libby omnipotent+poobah

Laissez Faire is Less Than Fair

2007-06-05T15:06:00.000-07:00

There are some positive things about deregulated markets. They're capable of producing higher profits and more efficiently propagating technological improvements. Free marketers would argue that open markets create more jobs and lower prices and they wouldn't be completely wrong. They'd argue that a self-regulating marketplace is a much more efficient and correct arbiter of market needs and balances. But, free markets are also volatile things where more benefits flow to business rather than the other way around - not withstanding business lobbyists' attempts to spin poor customer service and higher prices as a benefit to consumers.

Deregulation frequently causes unintended blow back too. Unscrupulous businesses quickly find ways to game the system and without someone looking over their shoulder, they often spin off in completely unexpected - and frequently anti-consumer - directions. For example, banks were once places where you could talk to actual human beings and get help solving problems. In the old days, you knew exactly what fees were and how they would apply them to your account. If you needed to call them, you could do it without voice mail systems to nowhere and sometimes they even gave you a toaster for your patronage. Today? Nada.

And let's not even get started with deregulated telephone systems.

Consumer Benefits...Bah Humbug

There are many dubious examples of deregulation "benefits". Our deregulated airlines can barely get you from point A to point B with predictability. Along the way, they lose your baggage and charge for everything short of the very air you breathe. The flight crews are grumpy, the airplanes are filthy, and a seat that doesn't fold anyone under 5' into a human road map are non-existent. Deregulation introduced artificially low prices as airlines unwisely flew 747s in direct competition to cars burning relatively cheap gas. Those economic pressures drove nearly every airline into bankruptcy at least once. While personal bankruptcy became more legally difficult, the opposite became true for businesses. Today, we have fewer major airlines than before deregulation, their operations are chaotic, and they've turned once-pleasant airline travel into a loathsome experience worthy of Greyhound service between Detroit and Hoboken.

However, there's a case to be made for regulation with a little "r" and as little of it as is appropriate. But sometimes, poorly deregulated companies do incredibly dishonest things. Take compUSA's handling of a customer named Terry Heaton.

Left Holding the Empty Box

Heaton bought a camera during a compUSA liquidation sale. When he got his camera home, he found his "camera" was actually a $269 empty camera box. He went back to the store and quite reasonably asked for a camera or his money back. The store manager told him "all sales are final", refused. They said he should have checked the box before leaving the store. While that may be legally true, it's a poor way to treat anyone - customer or fellow human being. Would you require a post-operative ex-ray to prove your surgeon removed your appendix as proof he actually had? "Sorry, you didn't check and you already left the hospital, I guess you're out of luck."

After the store's refusal, Heaton went to compUSA CEO, Roman Ross. Ross essentially replied "piss up a rope you inconvenient customer". It's responses like his that caused the shuttered stores and attendant liquidation sales to begin with.

Greed is Good...for Business

Retail is largely regulated by toothless consumer protection laws and have deep pockets to outlast occasional challenges to unfair and unscrupulous business practices. Heaton has pledged to badmouth compUSA at every opportunity in retaliation. I wish him luck, but he's fighting an uphill battle that will cost him considerably more than $269 if he follows through. I'd not be the least bit surprised if he never sees camera or money again and compUSA might conceivably sue him for harassment.

Conservatives frequently bemoan onerous regulation as an unnecessary intrusion into the workings of capitalism. On the surface that seems plausible and I'd believe the government should as little regulation as necessary, but only if companies and industries adequately regulate themselves. If they don't I say regulate them to within an inch of their existence. But because administrations like the current one often allow lobbyists to write regulatory law, you can bet that any regulations that do come down will be, at best weak, and at worst, will benefit business. This applies equally to large and small business and comes at the expense of consumers who want what they paid for and some reasonable recourse if they don't get it.

Even though I try to be a caveat emptor kind of consumer, I've gotten my share of empty boxes too. The hard-earned money fiscal conservatives promise will trickle back to me in the form of lower taxes and prices is inevitably offset by corporations that sell empty boxes whenever they can get away with it. You can bet that as long as the CEO and his cabal get their Wolfowitz-style "performance" bonuses, consumer protection will be the farthest thing from their minds and consumers will be left holding the empty box.

Unfortunately, capitalism is an economic model designed around greed and without appropriate regulation, screwees will be tasked with rewarding the screwers.

It seems laissez faire capitalism brings a "less is fair" result for consumers.

A Special Omnipotent Note

Excuse the short interruption in my postings. Evil bots from Larry Page and Sergey Brin's rapidly growing Empire of Googlevania classified me as a spam blog and locked me out of my account. Greatly offended and inconvenienced by my classification as a spam blog, I've made a decision about something I've been considering for quite some time.

I'll be moving the blog as soon as I can get the time to set up accounts and work out new templates. I will, of course, keep all of you posted.

Fight the good fight against the Evil Empire...I mean Google, not Bush.

Oh, what the hell, fight Bush too.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: capitalism regulation compusa google omnipotent+poobah

Neocons: The Cicadas of Politics

2007-05-31T16:43:00.000-07:00

In a recent Guardian article, Richard "Prince of Darkness" Pearle claimed to have "no regrets" about his part in starting and conducting the War of Error. Other neocons involved in the debacle (including the Decider Guy) have issued similar pronouncements. Their amazing hubris shows just how deluded they are and that delusion has offended many. Even Rep. Walter Jones (R-NC) jokingly said, "I would like to suggest ... that maybe we give Paul Wolfowitz a new job and send him over there as mayor of Iraq, since the neocons got us in over there. And maybe Mr. (Richard) Perle could be co-mayor or co-chairman."

A Breed Apart

It seems neocons consider themselves a breed apart. Their unshakable conviction resemble an infallibility suitable for a Pope. They seem genuinely confused that the flock sees a much different picture. They see the tumult and carnage as merely the early shoots of a burgeoning liberty tree and are quite offended that Americans and Iraqis force-fed their bitter fruit aren't on their knees kowtowing to their obvious brilliance.

One by one, the neocons are going on to spread their brilliance across the land. Rummy plans a neocon think tank to show the world he's right and they're wrong. Wolfie departed the administration with an unnecessarily divisive assignment to the World Bank. Showing his brilliance, he made a hash of it. Bound for the streets - with his $400K "performance bonus" in hand - he's taken to the airwaves to shed any personal responsibility. In his mind, the entire world is in on a plot to think of him as a blithering idiot instead of the Einstein he fancies himself. John Bolton is also part of the elite Club Neocon Ninny. He replays his repetitive rejoinder of, "you're wrong" - followed by film clips showing just the opposite - in every interview.

Hubris of the Month Club

Their hubris is also amazing given the phalanx of reports that they cooked intelligence and poo-pooed anything that didn't match their well-developed theories. It's striking just how conceited their view of their fellow humans was. They were always right. Everyone who disagreed was always wrong. And each disagreement was justification to call people traitors, terror-supporters, and wild-eyed lunatics. The neocons not only mixed the Kool-Aid, but drank it as well. It's not surprising that with all those super-sized egos bunched together in their ignorance, we ended up with the worldwide debacle we have today.

Pfft to the War on Terror. It's a really a World War Error.

Of course, the neocons didn't do it alone. There are many - on both sides of the aisle - who drank from the poisoned Chalice of Conceit. They've similarly turned a blind eye to their own share of the debacle and continue - even as they blame the neocons - to do anything about it. It's one of the few times in history one could say the voters didn't get what they deserved. No one deserves the concrete ineptitude of the neocons and their enablers.

Cicadas to the Core

Soon - either by ejection or election - the neocons will run to ground, leaving us to right their "right" path. But as they've shown before, they'll be the political version of cicadas. They'll lie quietly for 17 years and emerge again in some future conservative administration to muck things up.

And, of course, they'll be completely right as they are simultaneously completely wrong.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics neocons cicadas omnipotent+poobah

Commuting with the Cockroaches and Ants

2007-05-30T19:17:00.000-07:00

I remember a painting by my cousin that hung in my aunt and uncle's living room in Conda, ID. It was a long, thin, vertical painting with a frame and background of black. A stream of white ants crawled up the middle in a uniform line toward some picnic just off-canvas. The second ant from the top had escaped the line, turned red, and was targeted with a white circle.

The symbolism was clear, we have met the enemy and we is ants.

I thought of the painting this morning during my commute. I looked ahead at the uniform lines of cars, punctuated by the occasional ant acting more like a cockroach - that's another post. Embedded in the mechanized ant line were several cars that I recognized, not because I personally knew their drivers, but because our commutes are all so perfectly timed that we're guaranteed to see each other almost every day - sort of the mobile equivalent of that person you always see in the elevator, but that you don't know from Adam.

But We Shared More

More than likely, several of us listened to the same radio station and laughed at the same stale jokes from the same stale jocks. We all saw the car fire in Fremont. The foggy sun looked the same. Several of us drank identical cups of coffee - although probably from different Starbucks - in identical cups, with identical tastes, and identical exorbitant prices. More than a few of us flipped off the more aggressive cockroaches as they weaved in and out of our orderly line.

It struck me that we live in a society where even a solitary pursuit like commuting is invested with a certain communality. Few of us spend our days completely out of contact with others. Aside from a few Nevada ranchers, we see other people every day and interact with them, even if we don't notice or imagine otherwise.

A Good Thing, A Bad Thing, or Just a Thing

I'm not sure if this is a good or bad thing. On the down side, it's dehumanizing and the tight schedules, I'm sure, induce stress. On the plus side, everyone has someone else and is never really alone (whether their emotional response believes that or not).

I can see a tremendous untapped potential in this situation for both good and bad, but it's a tough ant to dig out and I expect it would be exploited for profit, only increasing the alienation many already feel. One need look no farther for proof than the new programmable billboards that switch content based on the demographics for radio stations that passing cars are tuned to.

I gave it some thought, but I was distracted by a cockroach who nearly took my bumper off. The thought died on the tread of the cockroach's tire and I never did finish it.

Now you'll have to excuse me. If I don't get back, I'll lose my place in line.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: memoir society humor omnipotent+poobah

As We See It: Plame's Revenge Edition

2007-05-29T15:38:00.000-07:00

Mobster Big Eddie Eagle Finally Fingers the Big Dick

Mitt Offers His Famous Money Back Guarantee

Tom Delay: The Tackhammer O' God

As the Investigations Built, Turd Blossom Found Himself Getting Skeered

The Federal Penitentiary, Where the Elites Meet

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics humor omnipotent+poobah

Memorial Day Redux

2007-05-28T16:42:00.000-07:00

We've come to that holiday that half the population mistakes for a sale at Walmart and the other half just forgets. Unless the horror of war has touched you in some personal way you may have forgotten the purpose of the day too - to honor our nation's military dead.

That's what makes Memorial Day the second most American holiday after Independence Day. On one, we celebrate sacrifice and on the other we forget about what sacrifice costs. Either way, we celebrate both days in exactly the same way - with apathy and ignorance of our history.

I'm a Cold Warrior. I served during one of the few, distressingly brief periods in which we've not been at war. I've known many people who were not so fortunate and I've participated in enough realistic military exercises to see the power of fire and the rain of death up close.

The Hell of War

I believe I have some small idea of the hell of war. However, I'd never pretend to know it like someone who's been there. In that respect, I have much in common with most Americans - including our President (who fought his war in Texas - when he felt like showing up) or our Vice President (who had "more important priorities").

These men responsible for sending people off to die should have it weigh heavily upon them. But, they don't seem to have given it much thought until their polls went south and we began calling for their heads.

Perhaps they've been too busy justifying their costly adventure. Maybe they were simply overwhelmed by handling something so tragic and complex as a war. I'm not sure. But I do know this - neither of them know the meaning of sacrifice.

For those with a short memory, let's remember that one of the first pronouncements Mr. Bush made after 9/11 was to encourage people to shop. He said this while the embers of the collapsed buildings still glowed. That was his idea of sacrifice.

The War of Error

Since then, he cravenly connects his damnable War on Terror to Iraq in every speech. Not once has he asked anything of this country save forgiveness of the many mistakes he never admits. Meanwhile, Americans have sacrificed. They've offered up their sons and daughters and thousands of them have come home broken or in flag-draped boxes.

So, I'd like to take this opportunity to do something President Bush seems unable to do on yet another hallowed day. I call on all Americans to work together to end this bloody war. One of the few liberties we have left is dissent and we must respect it more than we do ourselves. We must keep healthy dissent alive for it is what our military fights for and what keeps us free.

A Legacy of Death

Mr. President, I hope you take a few minutes away from impeaching our freedoms to think about those dying at this moment half a world away. I hope you can once - perhaps for the first time in your coddled life - understand the gravity of sending men and women to die.

Unless you want your legacy to be many more despicably overcrowded Memorial Days to come, it's time for you to make a sacrifice. It's time for you to stare at your overwhelming hubris and cast it off before it ruins us all. And while you stare into the mirror, look closely.

In the background you'll see a nation teetering on the brink.

Editor's Note: I'd planned to write a special post for this Memorial Day, but I found that last year's post, with some minor updating, said it better than I could say it again. Last year at this time I also took the opportunity to thank my nephew, who was then serving in Iraq, for his service. His tour was eventually extended and he came home four months late. He will go back to Iraq again later this summer and possibly be extended yet again.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: iraq politics omnipotent+poobah

Fight Theocracy, Be a Randomist

2007-05-26T14:01:00.000-07:00

Atheist Analysis - If God made everything in the world, did he make atheists too?

Save the Simians - It's silly, but someone has to watch out for our simian friends...eh, Dr. Z?

Offering Her Flower - Sure, Always Aroused Girl (NSFW) test-drives sex toys and writes about her amorous adventures, but her flora photos are the bee's knees!

Campaign 2008 - Even though Bill blazed the trail for this (NSFW), let's hope Hillary doesn't make the same offer during her campaign.

What's Next? - What's next, Broccoli Coke?

"We're Here to Pomp You Up!" - It also comes in a Schwarzenegger autographed model. But, there is a danger if you use steroids.

Flush Your Cares - There's something strangely arousing about this.

Hotter Than Gazpacho - OK girls that's enough snickering in the back there.

Run Stinky, Run! - Yeah, but will it need a rhinoplasty one day?

God's Everywhere You Want to Be - Your purchases earn points so the pontiff can buy new shoes or see Harry Potter, Revenge of the Nerds.

1001 Uses for a Stray Cat - Wouldn't locking them up be easier?

Eeeeew! - Remember that time you syphoned some gas out of your tank and sucked too hard? (H/T to Tits McGee)

They'll Always Have Baghdad - Was Wolfie kicked to the curb?

Tree Victim of Bicycle Crash - Clear the Path! George has been out cycling again.

Homeland Insecurity - These are the people guarding our streets and these are the people they're guarding us from.

I'm a Little Bit Rock & Roll - Time sure flies. It's already been a half century, yet it seems like so much more.

Ahhh, the Stench of It - Next Up, Britney Spears Rancid, a heady mixture of sweat, cigarette smoke, stale diapers, bikini wax, and tequila.

Attention Mitt Romney Supporters! - A little sumpin' sumpin' for the lil lady. (H/T Gangstas & Hugs)

Useless Invention #1316 - Why?

People Will Steal Anything That Isn't Nailed Down - This is obviously not a lesbian wanting to have kids.

How Much is the Placenta in the Window? - The testicle of a right whale is to a midsized car like a human eyeball is to a male polar bear.

We Must Eat Them Over There Before We Have to Eat Them Over Here - George called and wants his freedom fries back.

Honest, I Was Just Self-Medicating - Yeah. I'm not buyin' it.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: randomness humor omnipotent+poobah

Teaching the Elephant to Eat Itself

2007-05-25T17:03:00.000-07:00

It figures that one of the few pieces of legislation garnering support from both the new Congress and the White House would be the immigration bill Minority Whip John Boehner describes as "a piece of shit". Rather than being the "everyone gets a little something" compromise that supporters claim, it's instead a "glass fully empty" compromise where no one gets anything except a morass of confusing and unenforceable rules that benefits no one.

There's near-universal agreement that our complex immigration policies are broken. Nearly everyone agrees it's a problem ignored too long and covered with enough patches to keep a retread bicycle tire spinning. There's also great support for beating the problem into submission now, rather than waiting for another administration.

But that's where the agreements end.

The Same Old Same Old

The current bill follows the same pattern as previous failed bills. Despite the complex task, lawmakers tried to solve the whole mess in toto rather than breaking it into smaller initiatives that would be easier to implement. In business, they call this eating the elephant one bite at a time.

In government, they call it screwing the pooch.

Illegal immigrants don't leave their families because they like July forth fireworks or love apple pie. They come here to find work. They trade one poverty-stricken existence for a not-quite-so poverty stricken existence so the family can eat. They do backbreaking work that Americans won't do (at least at the sub-poverty slave wages offered by agribusiness and one-percenter families needing maids and pool boys). Top that with the complicity of the US and immigrant nation governments and you guarantee an illegal immigrant tsunami that easily overwhelms unarmed National Guardsmen and fences in the middle of nowhere.

Illegal Immigration Reduction is Job One

Priority One should be reducing the tsunami to a more manageable trickle. We need tougher labor laws and enforcement coupled with helping immigrant nations boost their own economies so their economic woes aren't offshored to America. Fewer immigrants will come if they can make a living wage back home and everyone would be better off.

Lawmakers could tackle the thornier problem of what to do with the millions already here as a separate debate. When they do, they must see that putting those masses yearning to work almost free onto Tijuana-bound Greyhounds isn't logistically practical, amnesty be damned.

Sadly, this pickle shows the futility of it all. The same lawmakers that complicate matters now will resist cutting the elephant up. Even if Congress and the Decider Guy could agree on doing it, the needed economic legislation would look like Dasani in deference to powerful lobbies that benefit from an indentured servant labor pool. And even if lawmakers rammed through the economic reforms, deciding what to do with the immigrants already here would bog down in academic arguments about the "rightness" of amnesty and how steep the fine would be. Oh, and word to the pols - it doesn't matter if the fine is $50 or $5000, when you have no money you can't pay either one.

Simply put, a rational response simply ain't gonna happen.

Teaching the Elephant to Eat Itself

This debate is a microcosm of the myriad national problems that go unaddressed or are hidden by the real reason for their failures - a lack of foresight and dedication to what's best for the country. In a very American twist, it appears there is no workable way to eat that elephant one bite at a time.

Because the elephant would need to eat itself.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics immigration society omnipotent+poobah

Spy vs. Blog

2007-05-24T13:12:00.000-07:00

Check the traffic statistics for any blog or site and you'll see plenty of curious things. Every site has it's share of mysterious daily visitors who never seem to comment. Every site gets visits from far away or obscure places. Every site has its share of confounding searches displaying downright odd tastes in everything from sex to coffee. It's even odder to know your blog actually touches on some of the weirder topics.

Some of my mostly puzzling visitors are with the US government. I had a spate of visits from the Senate Sergeant-at-Arms last year. Ditto for visits from the IRS. I get the occasional drive by from the Commerce Department and even a single visit from some poor troll in the basement of the White House. With all the reports of wiretapping and clandestine blog visiting, it's easy to see a conspiracy behind every IP address, but visits from a series of US Navy addresses are a bit worrying.

And the Hits Just Keep on Comin'

For approximately 6 months last year - around the time when news surfaced about governmental blog tracking - I began to get daily visits from:

gate4-sandiego.nmci.navy.mil (138.163.0.44)

gate2-sandiego.nmci.navy.mil (138.163.0.42)

gate5-sandiego.nmci.navy.mil (138.163.0.37)

gate6-sandiego.nmci.navy.mil (138.163.0.38)

gate1-sandiego.nmci.navy.mil (138.163.0.41)

gate3-sandiego.nmci.navy.mil (138.163.0.43)

gate8-sandiego.nmci.navy.mil (138.163.0.36)

I also got a few visits from similar "nmci" addresses with "gates" labeled Norfolk. The visits eventually tapered off, but they're still a regular occurrence.

There were several things that made these addresses stand out.

Dateline: San Diego, NY

First, even though the server names indicated San Diego or Norfolk, the server locations were in New York. Sometimes, I also got visits from 3 or more of the gates at the same time on the same day and the number of past page loads and visits from each one (even now) are identical whether there is a record of them in my site logs or not.

Curious about the "nmci" identification, I found that it stands for the Navy Marine Corps Intranet, an Intranet developed by global contractor EDS to provide, "secure, universal access to integrated voice, video, and data communications." According to the EDS, NMCI will eventually "link more than 400,000 workstations and laptops for 500,000 Navy and Marine Corps users across the continental United States, Hawaii, Cuba, Guam, Japan, and Puerto Rico."

I've tried to log on to NMCI, but as you might expect, I'm not authorized. I'd think a typical sailor or marine would have little or no reason to visit my blog - much less know of its existence.

Nefarious Plots

Now, I'm not alleging some nefarious plot. There may be some valid reason for my sudden popularity with sailors and Marines - perhaps they love the same witty punditry that so entranced the Sergeant-at-Arms and the White House troll - but it still makes one wonder. Perhaps the most troublesome thing about this issue is this. We now live in a county where the possibly of government plots is more than just the thought of a crazed conspiracy nut.

And that gives me the willies.

Drop by DFA and sign the petition to get rid of the Crapweasel General!

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: nmci politics spying omnipotent+poobah

The Passing of the Slow News Day

2007-05-23T16:26:00.001-07:00

There used to be such a thing as a slow news day. They were days when local news or man bites dog stories carried the day. They were days when minor bad news got some coverage - a government official helping a vendor for example.

But no more.

The past six years have wrought an ever-strengthening storm of big time stories that have all but eradicated slow news days. Each day brings some major new example of malfeasance, ineptitude, or graft. The stories burst forth like water from a leaking dam, threatening to overwhelm the 24-news cycle. Journalists rush to keep up with the floodwaters, but end up missing or short-shifting stories that would have been big news in another time. The same stupid behavior that keeps soldiers past their time in Iraq is the same stupid behavior that is wearing down and desensitizing the press corps.

Like a Burn Patient

It's wearing down and desensitizing the rest of us too.

No one is immune. Even hardcore news junkies read the paper or stare at the television in shell-shocked fatigue. Bloggers and political pundits can't decide on subjects because the target environment is so rich and they must write their posts and pieces quickly before the story moves on. The general public - never enamored of paying much attention to politics - is also overwhelmed. They are so battered by the relentless bad news and conflicting versions of events they've simply given up. The great middle of the political spectrum is no longer divided so much as bludgeoned into a unified, zombie-like state.

Of course, none of this is good for the country. America has become a burn patient - numb in all it's charred places - and way beyond the physical ability to feel pain. Also like a burn patient, we've realized we'll carry the scars of this awful time for the rest of our lives.

Throw in the Towel?

There's a great temptation to throw in the towel and not post about such things anymore. What used to be a pleasure to write about has become an interminable slog through the muck. I look at my posts and think they aren't nearly as good as they used to be. I read the fatigue in the words. They lack verve and have taken on a droning tone.

Bit I slog on because someone has to do it and that's a damn shame.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: media politics societyomnipotent+poobah

How Impeachment Alters the Universe

2007-05-22T15:01:00.000-07:00

Salon columnist Gary Kamiya recently weighed in on impeachment for Uncle George. His verdict? Ain't gonna happen because the American people don't wanna. "There's a deeper reason why the popular impeachment movement has never taken off - and it has to do not with Bush, but with the American people. Bush's warmongering spoke to something deep in our national psyche."

Apparently it also spoke to the 88% of respondents to an MSNBC poll who said they "believe President Bush's actions justify impeachment." It said, "YOU ASSHOLE!"

Headless Chickens

Americans are generally hesitant to impeach and that's a good thing. If we were always yelling, "Off with the bastard's head!", Washington would be nothing but a collection of monumental coups filled with headless chickens. Frankly, the chickens who still have their heads are doing damage enough running around.

Iraq has pissed off an electorate famously difficult to piss off, the proof being the six years of relentless bad news it endured before finally saying "enough". But, if there is an impeachment - and my money is on Dilbert Dillhole's time running out before it comes - it won't be for the cluster coitus that is Iraq. Iraq is much too inconvenient and untidy. Those who bringing the charges would be much too embarrassed to confess to their own complicity. Too many people would have to recuse themselves for supporting the disaster to begin with. There wouldn't be enough free range politicians left to raise a quorum.

If an impeachment comes, it will be for the standard illegal activities that usually bring down administrations. Just like Bill's Clinton's impeachment was about lying to grand juries and not blowjobs, the collapse of the Bush administration will come courtesy of the growing number of scandals multiplying like paramecia in stagnant water.

Incompetence Begets Evil

Attorney firings begat Gonzo's still evolving comeuppance. His arm twisting of Ashcroft kicked off fresh questions about illegal wiretaps. Those questions resulted in subpoenas for documents the administration won't cough up. Connected to those documents are other batches tied to Karl Rove and Monica Goodling - one taking the fifth and the other hiding behind his desk in the White House. As those subpoenas make the rounds, another Rove aide is pleading the fifth and angling for immunity for documents related to Jack Abrahmoff, who in turn ties to Libby, Rove, Cheney, and a good number of Congressothieves.

The thigh bone is connected to the hip bone...

No. Impeachment, if it ever comes, won't be from one clearly defined mess like Iraq. It will come from the thousand self-inflicted cuts George made while cutting his nose despite his face. If there is a Bush impeachment it will be more like the death of Enron. The administration will implode into an infinite loop of lies, back stabs, poor judgment, and moral turpitude not of the sexual kind and as it does, an evil black sun will appear to suck all matter in the American political universe right into a massive and dead black core. But regardless of how this administration ends, its black hole will rival anything in the natural universe.

It will skew the orbits of all our political planets and swallow all light for years to come.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics bush scandal omnipotent+poobah

Random Randomness

2007-05-18T16:20:00.000-07:00

Laura B. Fights Back - Slap some tits on her and she could pass for Dolly Parton. (H/T to Debsweb)

That God Sure Knows His Houses - I may not believe in God, but he sure can put up some fancy digs.

As If The Real Things Weren't Scary Enough - A rogue's gallery so strange you might find them in a video game.

OMG! I'm My Mother! - Fearing becoming your mother seems to be more a female thing, but here's help for any gender. And if you don't want to cut the, er, strings...

Take a Chill Pill - Or any other kind of pill for that matter. If the insurance companies and drug companies get a load of this, there'll be hell to pay in Drugtowne.

Ted is My Copilot - Certainly the best teddy bear project I've ever seen. We're even prepared for the eventuality the plushies might crash.

I Wonder Where They Go When You Flush? - Yes, I admit to a tiny little obsession with urinals. It might be the increasing amount of time I spend in them as I get older...or it could be how much I love the smell of urinal cakes in the morning. TMI?

Holy Burritos Cap'n! - One can never have too many burritos nor too many places to store said burritos.

Little People in Space - There are a plethora of reasons to love local TV commercials and this is one.

Lesbian PSA - And now, presented for the benefit of our lesbian readers...

Why Do They Do It? - Because they can.

Buy the NEW Swiffer! - Have dog, will mop dust. Handy as a throw rug too.

Froggie Goes A'Hoppin' - It's a French site...get it? Frogs? French? Aw, come on. That's hillfrickenlarious!

YIKES! - If I see one of these babies, I'm not hanging around to take pictures. There's aliens in them damn things!

Break Out the Red Noses - Bush is a bigger joke, but then he doesn't mean to be. Parump-puhm.

Seven Cum Eleven - I'll never be able to get a Slurpee again.

Why? - Another product in search of a market. Make that two. No, make it three. Oh hell, let's just go for an even four. OMG, there's more!

Carpal Tunnel Anyone? - "The next one who calls me a secretary instead of administrative assistant is gonna get a March 6, 2007 between their eyes. I've got talent you know."

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: randomness humor omnipotent+poobah

George is Still Supportin' the Troops

2007-05-17T15:51:00.000-07:00

Some things just chap me raw, and the latest is the White House's opposition to a 3.5 percent pay increase for the military. The modest increase would narrow the gap between private sector jobs - that presumably don't require getting shot at - and the military. Military pay habitually lags the private sector by significant amounts and even in peacetime there's plenty of justification for giving them anything we can spare.

As a part-time Commander-in-Chief sharing his job with a new War Czar, it's the height of hypocrisy for Yosimian Sam to fight a pay raise for the very troops he claims to support. Is it not enough to shorten the time between extended tours? Is it not enough to send them off to war poorly equipped and then reward them with substandard medical care and pitiful death and disability benefits? In what world is this acceptable treatment for the sacrifices of those who defend our country and even those that should be doing it for themselves.

His opposition is in synch with his increasingly bizarre behavior. He no longer attempts to make his asshatted actions look good. He simply says "screw you" and does what he wants, when he wants. He isn't a lame duck, he's a quite healthy smirking bull in a china shop. This latest affront to the nation is akin to the captain of the Titanic running into the iceberg, backing off, and intentionally ramming it again and again.

Apparently, living in Texas gave him little knowledge of icebergs, governing, or common sense.

It's no longer a question of when the Idiot Savant-in-Chief will leave, it's a question on whether he'll take the whole country down with him. The nation is bleeding from the thousand cuts of his abysmal administration. Our military is nearly destroyed, our Justice department has become a nest of incompetent snakes, and our Bill of Rights is shit-stained from the furious wiping of his arrogant ass. The Executive is no longer a co-equal branch of government, it is a robust and mutated cancer on the ass of society.

Many pundits talk about his legacy. It's a vision in which he is pilloried in the present and waiting for that far-off day when historians forget just how worthless he was. If that happens, I expect it will come when the final flickers of the sun go dark.

I recently wrote that I'm not much of a hating man, but I do have my exceptions and he is the most odious of them. I may have had some trepidation over pissing on Jerry Falwell's grave, but I have no inhibitions against whipping it out and pissing on George's head. There is only one thing that gives me pause.

The skeevy bastard probably loves a golden shower.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics bush military+pay omnipotent+poobah

The Falwell Conundrum

2007-05-16T16:46:00.000-07:00

The post I wrote when Jerry Falwell died presented a bit of a conundrum. I intensely dislike some people, but I'm not much for harboring true hate - especially when the person is no longer around. I heard my mother's admonition to not say bad things about the dead as I tried to find a way of expressing the intense dislike I had for the man.

Some would say the post was too strong, others that it wasn't strong enough and they'd both be right. I didn't unleash the full measure of anger I have, but I also didn't let him off the hook. That's why I settled on the idea that it wasn't my job to judge him. I figured that if he believed in God, a fit dispensation was his God's problem.

When Jerry and the other purveyors of hate take their anti-social positions, they believe they're doing God's work as they see it. I don't think they get up each morning and say, "How can I condemn homosexuals to swimming in an eternal lake of fire." They get up and say, "How can I save homosexuals from swimming in the eternal lake of fire."

Whether you agree their demonization tactics are right, they nevertheless are their convictions. Those convictions - however misplaced I think they are - are what allows Jerry and his ilk to stick to their twisted ideas in the face of damning condemnation from decent people. We usually think of strong convictions as something admirable, but even crapweasels have them and when they do, they're bad for everyone.

From what I know about religion and the opinions of many deeply religious people, the interpretations Jerry made were wrong, but I also acknowledge that the Bible is more metaphorical than precise blueprint. That perception gap is precisely why mankind has fought over religion for eons. The Bible can simultaneously represent everything or nothing depending on a reader's point of view.

I'm an atheist - a "pagan" in Jerry's words - but I can't prove there is no God just as Jerry couldn't prove there is. It all boils down to a subjective choice, based on how we interpret the "evidence" of our beliefs.

Many of Jerry's obituaries were much stronger than mine. Those writers rightfully ascribed to him the injustices he'd perpetrated and felt all that pent up anger burst forth when he died. I agree with the strength of their dislike for the man. People have every right to be pissed off by his saying innocent people caused 9/11 - it pissed me off too. Had he been around, I would have had to fight a powerful urge to take a poke at the despicable simpleton. I can even understand the temptation of many people to "piss on Jerry's grave". Jerry did no worse himself, although I'm sure he would have made it sound a little more socially acceptable.

The man is dead. I'm glad the attacks he launched on decent people will be no more, but I'm not glad he's dead. I would have been equally pleased - and quite shocked - if he'd simply seen the error of his ways and repented in life. I can't see that flogging him after he's gone accomplishes much. I don't think there's an afterlife, so I don't think he's going to hell or heaven. Neither will dying reverse the hate he spewed. There are plenty more bigots where he came from.

So my conundrum is this - what's the best way to show my mighty disagreement with the man without turning myself into the very same hate mongers he was?

I'm still not sure I know the answer.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: religion jerry+falwell omnipotent+poobah

Jerry Meets St. Peter

2007-05-15T16:28:00.000-07:00

Jerry Falwell is dead.

Since 1979, he made his living as the mouthpiece for the Moral Majority - a group which, in my opinion, is neither. From his bully pulpit, he preached the evils of a secular society. Although he resembled your cuddly old uncle, his attacks on those who didn't share his beliefs were legion. To Jerry, the list of dangers to his world was long and varied and he never tired of condemning them.

"I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People For the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America," Falwell said after 9/11. "I point the finger in their face and say you helped this happen."

For the record, I fall into the pagan category and I sympathize with several other enemies of Jerry. But, as far as I can tell, none of us had anything to do with helping 9/11 happen, his holy middle finger notwithstanding.

To Jerry, no enemy was too small. Teletubbies were plush toys del diablo, hell-bent on homosexualizing kids. AIDS victims were experiencing, "the wrath of a just God against homosexuals." Believing in Darwinism put you in the express line to hell and the UN was creating a global, "cashless society" that was a harbinger of the rapture.

Who knew God didn't want Visa to be everywhere he wanted to be?

Even though I'm atheist, I've always believed that if there is a God, He would be the just, benevolent, and tolerant spirit I learned about on my Mother's knee. I grew up listening to Falwell dominate Sunday morning with his Old Time Gospel Hour. I've heard him deliver hundreds of sermons and screeds - nearly all of them filled with some level of hate against his fellow men. And, I've always wondered what judgment St. Peter would deliver when old Jerry came a-knockin' on the pearly gates.

My guess is the Big Guy might want to talk to him dio a mano about what a complete ass he's been during his time on Earth. I'd imagine that God might be a little curious as to how Jerry could pervert His message so completely and then have the audacity to shield himself with God's book and wrap himself in God's cloak of righteousness. Since I'm an atheist who doesn't believe in heaven and hell, I have no dog in this hunt, but I still wonder about where Jerry will end up.

I think I know the answer.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: religion jerry+falwell omnipotent+poobah

POP! Goes the Bubble

2007-05-14T15:37:00.000-07:00

It's time to rethink this whole Bush in a Bubble metaphor. Bubbles are fragile things borne on feathery puffs of air, changing course on a whim. They're also transparent, so if President Guy was inside one he'd see what was happening outside. Instead, we can't change George's course with a Force 5 hurricane and if he's looking outside, he's doing it through three feet of steel-reinforced concrete - and let's not get started on what the Big Dick's undisclosed location must be like.

Let's view the course change first. We can sum it up in one word - surge.

Surgin' Along

It's true it's still early, but it seems the only ones confident in the surge are George, the Big Dick, and the Twins. Death squad killings are up, Barney and Mrs. Beasley are out tracking kidnapped soldiers, and retired Generals continue to rip George a new one every few weeks. Even when he does change course - as with his recent decision to talk with Iran - he denies it's a change, but an "amenable conversation".

A real bubble would have long since popped.

Bubble-like transparency is a joke too. There are so many scandals Congress can't direct the heavy traffic. The House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform will postpone its own "amenable conversation" with Condi Rice to make room for a deposition from George Tennet on the evidence that got us into this bubbly Iraq mess. They're apparently setting up an Attorneygate carpool to move that scandal along.

Scandals, Scandals, Scandals

Hydra-headed scandals never elicit more than a yawn from the White House, so they've sparked a growing insurgency within the ranks of the Kool-Aid drinkers. Last week's Republican congressional delegation stopped by for tea, cookies, and a little ass-reaming and George made it sound like a love fest rather than the smackdown it was.

They weren't alone. Heretofore hardcore conservatives are getting fed up too. RedState.com editor Erick Erickson is, "tired of defending a party that continually puts into positions of power known perverts, louts, and corrupt common criminals." He's drawing up a "battle plan" that aims to, "wage war upon them until they bend to common sense and decency."

Well, ain't that just enough to frost a President's bubble?

Even the "bidness" guys are turning on him. Bloomberg News said, "While the other major democracies have, or are about to have, new leaders, America is mired in a rudderless status quo. A new embarrassment or scandal...seems to surface daily - the only good news for the White House is that occasionally these stories overshadow the bad news coming out of Iraq. Private conversations with Republicans throughout America reveal doom and gloom about a politically paralyzed presidency and party."

Ken Lay Returns From the Dead

What's next, is Ken Lay going to return from the dead and bite Decider Guy's ankle?

No, a bubble is not what we have here folks. What we have is a train on the wrong track and headed for the washed out bridge.

We should be so lucky that he lived in a bubble. If he did, we could simply pop it and make him go away.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics humor bush omnipotent+poobah

A Good Walk Spoiled

2007-05-12T20:04:00.000-07:00

"Golf is a good walk spoiled."

Mark Twain

I've somehow reached middle age without taking up golf. I don't see the appeal of doing something so damnably difficult for recreation, but there you go - "different strokes for different folks" as they say.

When she was younger, I took the Omnipotent Daughter to mini-golf a handful of times. Aside from breaking a window in the miniature Dutch windmill with an errant putt, not much good came of it.

I also allowed co-workers to drag me to a golf scramble in mid-February on the frigid, blustery plains of Ohio. We shivered and played with an orange ball so we could find it in the snow. My slow pace kept everyone waiting way too long and several of us missed the next week of work with severe colds.

Golf at Goose

My only "real" game came in Goose Bay, Labrador. Braving swarms of mosquitoes and black flies, a friend and I borrowed a putter and a driver and went to play the now-defunct course on the Canadian Forces Base where we were staying. We got an idea of just how challenging the course would be on the first hole.

We teed off from a 12' round slab of cement covered in moldy Astroturf. It was equipped with a permanent steel tee jutting up in the middle. Our first shot was down a long "fairway" choked in weeds and sporting hundreds of pine tree stumps cleared for the second coming of Arnold Palmer. On the left was a large water hazard about the size of Lake Michigan. A moose grazed in the reeds along the shore.

Because I'd always heard it in the movies, I yelled FORE! and smacked the ball as hard as I could with my borrowed putter. "Nice shot," my friend said as my ball caromed off a granite boulder.

Mind the Moose

He lost his first shot in the lake after it bounced off a 2-ton moose ass. "Can I have a do-over on that," he asked?

"Yes. Please. That moose looks a little pissed."

We merrily chased the balls down the fairway, chopping and hacking as we went. We covered our huge divots by pushing knee-high weeds over them. Occasionally, we lost our balls in the rough (no pun intended). It was hard to tell where the fairway ended and the rough began. So, we agreed that when a ball went far enough into the head high weeds that you couldn't see the other golfer, it was officially in the rough.

If you had to call for a wilderness guide, it was a two-stroke penalty.

A Little Juice

After an hour, we arrived at the Hole 1 putting green. It rose about 4 inches above the veld on a square concrete slab covered in the best Astroturf the Canadians could provide. My friend putted first.

"Guess I'm going to have to give this a little juice to get over that lip on the green," he said as he thwacked the ball with his driver. And thwack he did - so hard the ball struck the concrete lip and rebounded into his forehead with a solid POCK.

"Nasty break on that one," he said. "Be careful."

I prepared my putt by yanking a handful of reeds out of the ground and throwing them professionally in the air to test the wind. They fell with a thud because I'd neglected to shake the muck off them before casting them aloft.

"Hmm, looks pretty calm," I said knowledgeably.

The Ungloved One

I lined myself up and wiggled my ass as I'd seen professionals do. I was confident I'd make the putt. There were no windmills with broken windows to block my way. I only wished I had one of those single gloves the pros wear - maybe a rhinestone one like Michael Jackson's.

I wasted six strokes before getting up onto the elevated green. When my friend's ball joined mine, we wasted another five strokes playing croquet and knocking each other's ball away from the hole.

Eventually, I managed to accidentally hit my ball into the iron pipe hole and it disappeared into the bowels of the earth. My friend's ball also disappeared, although we did hear his gurgle when it hit water a few feet down.

We'd played one hole. It took close to two hours. We tied at 60 strokes each and felt quite proud of our accomplishment. As we drank the celebratory beers we carried on our pockets and slapped at the huge insects sucking us dry. We wondered what par was for the hole. We looked for the sign, but it was laying in the grass, apparently shredded by a passing bear.

"Good game," my friend said.

"Yeah, same to you," I replied. "Maybe we can go on tour next year."

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: memoir humor golf omnipotent+poobah

The Writing Life

2007-05-11T14:41:00.000-07:00

I write a lot. It is both my vocation and avocation. I'm not sure how many words I've put to paper, but I'd guess it is well into the millions. I've written everything from newspaper articles to button labels on websites. I've written instructions that could have meant death if not properly understood. I've written words into the mouths of powerful people. Mrs. Poobah and I met through writing - we were pen pals before we were a man and wife. And, of course, I write this blog - every word of it.

I first became aware of my talent for writing in the third grade. As a class assignment, I wrote a science fiction story about astronauts traveling to Mars. As the teacher handed our papers back, she told the class that one story stood out in particular. I drowsily half-listened to her ask the writer to come read the story in front of the class. As a mediocre student at best, I knew it couldn't be me. I was never recognized for anything. I was so convinced it couldn't be me, the teacher called three times before I heard her.

A career was born.

How Embarrassing

When people compliment my writing I feel exactly the way I felt in that classroom 43 years ago. Who, me? I'm still astonished when people are moved by what I write. I've swayed opinions and evoked powerful emotions with my writing, yet I feel a little guilty when people tell me about it. I think about how easy it was for me to write the piece. I often feel I've cheated the person in some way. Isn't power like that supposed to come from dead-hard toil where every word sweats out like perspiration in a sauna? How could I have so cheaply changed a mind or evoked an image? It's quite baffling really.

I don't see my writing as world class. There are millions better than me. I know, because I've read many of them. At the same time, I recognize I'm serviceably good at it. Nothing flashy. Solid. Yeoman-like. I just write down what I think and leave it at that. I have a tenuous connection to my work. I never save clips or articles. That seems conceited to me - like the Happy Painter saving his happy little tress and happy little mountains to remind himself how good his mediocre work is. I don't fight my editors or clients tooth and nail over every changed word. When my thoughts reach paper, I figure they no longer belong to me so readers have every right to change them or take them however they want.

A woman once told me I was her favorite author - right behind Stephen King. I didn't know if I was complimented or insulted. King and I both have our shtick. His is books. Mine are anonymous pieces that are invisible and so seamless the reader doesn't recognize it as writing. I succeed when a tiny voice leads them were they want to go. We are both commercially successful in our own ways, but that doesn't mean either of us are in line for a Pulitzer of Nobel.

The Attention Span of a Gnat

Many people have told me to write a book. I answer that my attention span is that of a gnat. I could never muster the requisite discipline and patience that writing a book would entail. But there is another truth I don't usually discuss - there simply isn't anything that interests me enough to sustain a book.

Discipline of mind is not one of my stronger points.

Unlike those who consume my words, I often find what I write embarrassing. When people tell me my words have touched them, I generally see my words as overwrought. If a compliment says I write clearly, I see all the edits I know could make it better. I don't often read what I write, but when I do at arms-length, I become a little less critical of myself. But, I'm never heartily pleased with my production. That idea of perfection is about as close as I come to being an artist rather than a word grinder - someone whose biggest asset is the ability to uncover things readers already know or feel.

It's Not a Bad Life

So, I've written enough for this morning. I must leave for my day job, where I'll write a few hundred new words. It pays well and I find it creative within the bounds of its structure. I'll attend meetings and pull facts from my teammates. I'll face an occupational hazard - people who tell me how to write based solely on their ability to operate a keyboard. Forty-three years of writing experience boiled down by someone who can't see the difference between their writing and John Steinbeck's. I'll write more when I return home. You might see it. You might not. I am the editor of my own work when I write for pleasure, and hopefully yours.

All in all it's not a bad life.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: writing memoir omnipotent_poobah

As We See It: Benchmarked Edition

2007-05-10T17:54:00.000-07:00

Bush Announces Position on Iraq Benchmarks

Delay to Teach Ethics - It Takes One to Teach One

George Loses The Last of His Credibility

"Elvis" Gonzales Announces His "I Forgot Tour '08"

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: humor politics as+we+see+it omnipotent+poobah

Work is the Root of All Evil

2007-05-09T15:51:00.000-07:00

Work is decidedly not one of humankind's best inventions. Money is not the root of all evil, work is. Work's the egg that comes before the chicken and requires vast amounts of effort not repaid in kind.

Not so long ago, work meant, well, work. You toiled in the field or braved a dangerous steel mill. People produced tangible products of intrinsic value. Work was often backbreaking, hot, smelly, or dangerous, but at the end of the day workers looked upon a warehouse full of steel and felt they'd actually done something. Something important.

Intrinsic to Who?

Eventually, workers realized their products had intrinsic value and that value bore little relation to the value of their backbreaking labor. They became angry that robber barons wrote off severed limbs as just one more cost of doing business. They tired of making less money than needed to buy the objects they made. They fought back in many ways, large and small, and managed great gains for those making things instead of money. In short, they moved the intrinsic value of their products closer to the middle. One worked for more money, in a safer environment, in a way that made the robber barons even more money than before.

Business people call that a win-win.

But the robber barons were a cagey and greedy lot. They installed machines to supplant troublesome human workers. A machine operator could produce more coal at a cheaper cost than the old crew of 50. Robots could cobble cars together at fantastic speed with fewer workers. These moves made money for the top cheeses and stockholders while workers became less valuable.

But machines are expensive. In fact, more expensive than the low-paid wrench jockeys they replaced. So, the titans of industry looked for places that could use machines run by lower-cost, compliant human labor to make even more money. Places like Malaysia or Korea. It was the perfect idea.

Invasion of the MBAs

Business people call this maximizing profits.

And then a new class of business honcho emerged - 20-something MBAs whose sole tangible product to that point was a science project in elementary school. Raised in an era where shirts appear in Brooks Brothers like magic from Malaysia, they had little understanding of the working class. For them, a Malaysian sweatshop insulated them from the reality of workers and families cast aside like worn out machines. In their world, making things with intrinsic value became a burden not worth their effort. Besides, they believed their actions didn't put well-paid steel workers out of jobs. The workers were interchangeable and found plenty of opportunities to get new jobs - at McDonald's.

In short order, the US went from a country that made intrinsically valuable things to a country producing intangible products called "services." No more machines, very few troublesome workers, and no way to judge the value of what they sold. It's hard to calculate the value of IT support by the pound. It's equally difficult to define what service actually means. Banks and HMOs sell service, but it is service often symbolized by telephone hells that prevent consumers from ever reaching the three people still employed at the place.

A Paltry $30 Million

Now, the US is entering another phase. The 20-somethings are now 40-somethings and quite a bit wealthier. Living above their means for years, they dearly love making money and will do virtually anything to show that living on $30 million a year is so much tougher than living on $40 million. They control the mechanisms of capital and production and give themselves huge bonuses supported by fellow robber barons making similar demands at their own firms.

The working class is slowly dying, replaced by an uber-wealthy ruling class that offsets the loss of working class consumers with purchases of yachts built in Korean shipyards. Since they are at the top of the pyramid, the new era robber barons still make money on their ponzi scheme while those lower in the scheme are cashed out into the cold. But like any ponzi scheme, the collapse eventually comes and it hurts even those on the top. One day, the latter-day robber barons will find themselves in the ruins of their greed and avarice, wondering how come they weren't as smart as they thought.

It will be a sad day when karma visits their mansion door, but not in the way you think. They'll find themselves standing on the street corner begging for brothers who can spare a dime.

And sadly, you'll be long gone before you see them.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: economics work society omnipotent+poobah

Is Fred Thompson Live or on Memorex?

2007-05-08T16:28:00.000-07:00

The LA Times recently carried an article about actor and would-be Republican Presidential candidate Fred Thompson. The article questioned whether a 19-year old TV roll as a hate-spewing bigot will hurt him if he decides to run. The blog Whizbang calls the article a "stupid smear piece". However, it seems more a story about why such "stupid" worries happen in the first place.

The Times wonders if clips of the show - taken out of context and downloaded to YouTube ad infinitum - might prove embarrassing during a possible run. Sure, that sounds stupid, but it's a valid fear in an age when voters can't tell the difference between life and Memorex. Republican strategists are little worried and probably have every right to be.

Are They Live or on Memorex?

When voters can't tell the difference between real people and TV characters we're in trouble, but that's not where the trouble ends. Our electorate also expects candidates to have detailed opinions or plans about every conceivable issue. You're a catfish farmer? "What's your position on EU price supports for imported catfish." You make shoelaces? "Imported Brazilian shoelaces are killing us here. What's your bailout plan" Your pet project provides sleeping quarters for wayward deep-space aliens? Well, you get the idea.

Voters also expect total consistency on every issue, regardless of whether new questions reveal aspects the candidate has never considered. None of us are ever totally consistent no matter how hard we try, nor should we be. Absolute consistency suggests a serious deficiency of critical thinking skills and an aversion to tweaking your opinion on complex issues as the situation evolves. Show me a candidate who refuses to consider new information or look at the same problem from different angles and I'll show you a glossy 8x10 of a smirking cowboy.

We expect angelic morals and "presidential" behavior devoid of any human characteristic. We want political robots of infinite capacity who magically make decisions completely simpatico with our own without having ever made the tiniest misstep.

You forgot to pay Social Security taxes for the kid down the street who mows your lawn? Why, you're a non-tax paying scofflaw who isn't fit to set foot in the White House.

Cutting Our Noses Off to Spite Our Faces

That totally unrealistic expectation powers the tsunami of gotcha episodes that put the fear of Zeus into regular people who think of running. Some who decide not to run have the smarts and talents we need to solve issues larger than catfish subsidies or flag-burning amendments. Through our ham-handed demands, we've cut the viable field of candidates down to an ever-shrinking pool of idiots, gangsters, and self-aggrandizing bints, equally hated by right and left.

We've cut our noses off to spite our faces.

Just what the hell are we doing?

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics society omnipotent+poobah

A Blind Attraction

2007-05-07T13:11:00.001-07:00

Late arriving news here and here.

In each of the myriad scandals, screwups, and bellyflops committed by Bushies, two things remain constant - it's always someone else's fault and expect a reward for hosing up something beyond belief. Take Paul Wolfowitz's canoodle-happy featherbedding.

First, he admitted he'd shown poor judgment by setting up his chippy with a cushy job and a plush salary. "Come on guys, everyone does it. I won't do it again. Cross my heart and swear on a liberal's severed head."

A Put-Upon Chump

When the World Bank would have none of it, he retracted his "heartfelt" admission and blamed it on "confusing" ethics rules - fraud apparently being an unfamiliar concept to moralistic neo-frauds. He's claimed he was not only confused, but the World Bank Board knew exactly what he was doing and approved it. He then threw in charges of a smear campaign proving that he learned something at the Dick Cheney Neo-Con Training Academy and Shooting Supply - if you're caught red-handed, play the poor, misunderstood, put-upon chump.

One could certainly vouch that Wolfie is a chump, but poor, misunderstood, and put-upon seems a stretch.

Facing a smackdown from the board, he negotiated for a $400K silence bonus to go away quietly. Apparently, he sees no irony in extorting $400K to escape the original fraud charge associated with his blind girlfriend (puhleeze, that woman has to be blind to date that big-eared bonobo).

Cast Onto the Rocks of Scandal

Now, Wolfie has been cast onto the rocks of scandal while awaiting his appointment with the Bank's firing board. Shockingly, they seem to have turned a deaf ear to his $400K offer - preferring instead to just fire him for free. Of course, the President still supports him, but that's like handing an anvil to a drowning man. His underlings are starting to flee, but really, would you take a bullet for this guy? There's too much war-profiteering to be done in the private sector. And any day now, the Chippy will stop by Lenscrafters and see who she's been sleeping her way to the top with after all these years. Ye gods!

Wolfie is toast. He'll soon join the long line of ignominious lunkheads produced by this administration. He'll be just one more inept neo-con who never got over losing as high school Homecoming King. Brownie, Gonzo, Dick, George, Rummy - they're all walking the Green Mile and should keep an ear out for the karma that's trailing them like a bloodhound through a Katrina-shredded bayou.

John Bolton for World Bank CEO

It'll soon be World Bank nomination season again. Bush will scrape the bottom of a once-bottomless barrel of miscreants and boobs to find just the right ill-fit. Will it be Gonzo's new job? Could the Big Dick take it on as a sideline? Perhaps Jenna and Not Jenna are tired of boozing and ready for a real adult job?

Nah.

I have the perfect candidate. It's a man who has already offended every other country in the world except Togo. It's a man with an infamous iron-willed management style. He's a man with facial hair as splendiferous as Wolfie's hair is spitty. And, of course, he's a total lead-footed boob who's never had a job he hasn't ruined...

John Bolton for World Bank CEO!

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics world+bank omnipotent+poobah

Unleash the Gays of War

2007-05-06T16:31:00.000-07:00

John McCain, always famous for sticking his wingtips in his mouth, has reiterated his support for the military's surreal Don't Ask, Don't Tell Policy. His half-baked moral complaints about gay marriages destroying the very fabric of America are odd in the extreme, but his views about gay soldiers don't even follow the pretzel logic he uses to form them.

The basic premise of Don't Ask is, "out of sight, out of mind". In other words, the meager brainpower he can harness somehow turns him into a balding David Copperfield who can literally make gays disappear. Yet, a seemingly endless supply of military gays keep reappearing by simply telling nitwits like John Boy they exist. It reminds me of the kids' game where Mom covers her face and says, "Mommy's gone" and then uncovers her face and says, "Mommy's back." That's great entertainment for a 9-month old, but as a bedrock principle governing the world's most powerful army, it seems a little limp-wristed.

Svengali John

Sevengali John harps incessantly about a bigger and better army, but Don't Tell is hardly an intuitive way to go about it. When in the middle of a surge and strapped for enlistees, it seems more than a little illogical to toss away existing soldiers who volunteered to serve - especially when those soldiers have critical skills (like translating Arabic) or are expensively trained (like fighter pilots).

Admiral John lauds the military every chance he gets - as he should. Yet, he has an extremely low opinion of them. He says Don't Tell, "unambiguously maintains that homosexuality within the military services presents an intolerable risk to morale, cohesion, and discipline." He seems to be saying our well-disciplined military would destroy itself because some of the boys stroke to Playgirl instead of Playboy. An army that weak isn't an army at all. It's a loose gaggle of uncontrollable, armed thugs.

Give 'Em Hell Harry

I think Harry Truman handled a similar situation perfectly. Decades before racial integration was routine in the civilian world, Harry commanded the military to desegregate. He issued his orders and the soldiers followed them. No doubt there were some stupid crackers and equally hotheaded blacks who balked, but that's nothing a reminder about the penalty for mutiny (ask Saddam, he's intimately familiar with the punishment) didn't cure. Besides, if they can't follow a simple order, what good are they as soldiers?

If you apply projections about the number of gays in the military to John and the boys in the Hanoi Hilton, you'd probably find at least one gay incarcerated in the horrid hoosegow with them. I'm not sure who the simpering girlie man was, but someone was probably thinking of a far-off homecoming with the boy next door instead of the Homecoming Queen. I'd ask McCain if it was him...

But, I'm not sure I want him to tell.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics mccain gay+rights military omnipotent+poobah

Cherry Nibblin' Randomness

2007-05-05T15:44:00.000-07:00

Shout the Power! - Maybe Condi could use this idea as the basis of some sort of power-sharing agreement with the Syrians. (H/T to Tits McGee)

Pomp and Circumcision - Rumors have it several Regent University grads did their undergraduate studies here. They submitted their SATs using this. (H/T to Konagod)

Hirsute Hounds - Great site, but the Albanian dude looks like he may need a little remedial training in differentiating canines and felines.

Piffle on Palfrey - Now that the DC Madam is laying off the girls, maybe some of them can get hired here. If not, there's always the streetwalker route. (H/T to Coyote Angry)

Who Woulda Thunk It? - I'm sticking with my original opinion. I don't care what Cracked Magazine says.

Asswipes for an Asswipe - Honey! Do you want me to pick up some more at the store?! I hear she's coming out with Tampons for Traitors in retaliation.

Counter-Intuitive Smog - If the air is bad for you, where did the guy get the lung power to blow this thing up. Huh? Well? Gotcha there, didn't I? HA!

Signs of the Times - And not a Poobah symbol among 'em. I smell a discrimination suit coming on...

White Men Really Can't Dance - Raise the roof y'all! The apparently can't recite the Pledge of Allegiance either.

War is Sexy - Even the country music fans are getting the hint.

Here She is, Miss Drom-e-dar-y! - Where's Burt Parks when you need him?

She's Also Creating a Line of Humidors - The perfect bag for that young intern on the go. (H/T to Cap'n Dyke)

FREEBIRD! FREEBIRD! - Good music. Not much of a stage presence though.

Clearly Not the Iron Chef - She's beginning to rethink that leg of lamb she had for dinner last night.

I Was Just Surfing for a Massage, Honest! - Stick 'em up....no, not THAT one!

In Honor of the Running of the Roses - "Oh the sun shines bright on my old Kentucky homo!

Teutonic Temper Tantrum - I think it's about time Mom had this kid start watching a little TV instead.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: randomness humor omnipotent+poobah

The Footprint of Man

2007-05-04T19:13:00.000-07:00

Sunset From the Porch

My house sits atop the end of a ridge forming the mouth of a small valley. From my back porch (elevation 475 ft.), I can look up the valley and see a small downtown and houses blooming like poppies on along the valley walls. If I look south, I see the skyline of San Jose 40 miles away - on a clear day, maybe as far Morgan Hill, 60 miles away. To my west is San Francisco Bay and the coastal mountains forming the spine of the San Francisco peninsula. The highest peaks occasionally get snow in winter. To the north, I catch a small glimpse of San Francisco's skyline 25 miles in the distance.

The view is quite nice. The cable repairmen always bid to get assignments to the pole in front of my house. One of the best views in the area according to more than one of them. Most of my visitors agree.

A View Like an Aquarium

The view reminds me of an aquarium. Each time I look, it presents a slightly different angle. At sunset, it's orange splashed with deep blue. At sunrise, the morning fog of the hills partners with the rays of the rising sun to create cathedral clouds. Sometimes the Bay sparkles. After a rain, it turns a rich brown or slate gray, depending on the amount of rain and where the runoff came from. Boats and ships pass by. Sunny weekend afternoons are a bonanza of sailboats.

There's endless animation too. The flats along the rim of the Bay cradle every type of transportation. It turns into a child's playground of tiny cars, trains, buses, ferries, and the ever-present BART. Freeways trace graceful loops across the land, bridging not only the creeks and neighborhoods, but a major earthquake fault as well. I inch south as the western mountains move north. The flats bustle like an anthill in the Kalahari - full of humanity on the move. Overhead, airplanes from Oakland, Hayward, and San Francisco zip like fireflies across the sky. Waspy helicopters drop onto the roof of a hospital a few blocks away while dragonfly water bombers sometimes spray grassfires on the uninhabited hillsides.

At night, the view becomes radiant. There are a million lights. Streetlights, houselights, headlights, even the blinking traffic lights miles away. The clean, straight lines of streets form a grid overlaid with crazy speckles of houselights and parking lots. The houses on hills march up and down the slopes and blink hello. Traffic on the flats slows and the lit airplanes become fireflies on a lazy summer evening. The coastal chill reaches inland, compelling a sweater after even the warmest summer days.

The Footprint of Man

My view has an amazing and fascinating attraction. It's a place where the footprint of man is somehow softened. But sometimes, as I look at the lights below, I notice they've blocked out the stars with their perpetual glow. I see fewer and fewer days sans brownish haze. When I squint, the cars aren't so much childlike as dangerous - beetles chewing away at the sky with their infernal exhaust.

At times like those, I see that nothing really softens the footprint of man. I understand that every one of us leaves our footprint no matter how ecologically persnickety we are. The flip side of the beautiful view is the danger it brings. The beauty man loosed into nature threatening to turn back in and feed upon itself.

I think of these things. I notice them.

But man, that view sure is pretty.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: memoir nature omnipotent+poobah

When's an Emergency Not an Emergency?

2007-05-03T18:40:00.000-07:00

e·mer·gen·cy - (n) a sudden, urgent, usually unexpected occurrence or occasion requiring immediate action.

The Commander Guy has never been known for his eloquence, so a little remedial reading might be in order.

"George, stop poking the other kids in the eye and turn to page 3 in The Pet War. Sit up straight so we can read together...and turn the book right-side up please."

Paying for the War of Error

The War of Error is funded through a series "emergency" supplementals, an installment plan predicated on imminent threats by a beret-wearing moustache and assurances the war would last, "weeks or months, certainly less than a year". Plenty of people fell for this twaddle, so it seemed reasonable at the time. Besides, it gave Congress a shot at some budget oversight via periodic reviews of war spending.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the, "sudden, urgent, unexpected occasion". It lasted four glacial years. The Republican Congress - aided by some quivering Democrat-Jelloheads - evaluated the emergency supplementals based on a string of new Presidential promises. WMD, regime change, nation-building, insurgency, Iraqi security, and a vague notion of "success" came and went like clockwork. Congress looked at the emergencies du jour, slathered on some extra lard, and passed the bills along for a Presidential scrawl.

Hostile Takeover

Through his ineptitude, George awoke one morning to find the Congressional Bank the target of a hostile takeover. The new management expected to see a return on their investments. They wanted a metric to show the strutting and posturing meant something beyond worthless drivel. Politely asking the BushCo CEO failed. Rallying the citizen stockholders failed. Finally, the Congressional Board decided on due diligence and inserted metrics into the emergency bills.

The CEO President went ballistic, as bankruptees in denial sometimes do. He railed against the bank, claiming he was being hornswaggled by unreasonable demands to meet quarterly performance benchmarks. Like any reasonable creditor, the bank continues to work out a deal, but the CEO Guy is having none of it. Even though he's the one in trouble, he demands withdrawal of the bankruptcy petition, full restoration of his emergency budget, and a juicy bonus for being so viciously attacked by enemy-aiding accountants.

Stockholders have seen this scenario play out time and again. In the end, the CEO usually loses and finds himself rooming with Dennis Kozloski at Club Fed or "pursuing exciting new opportunities" as a gentleman cow puncher in Texas.

It couldn't happen to a nicer guy.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics iraq humor omnipotent+poobah

Americans Are Such Slow Learners

2007-05-02T16:54:00.000-07:00

Shameless Self-Promotional Note: The Poobah clicked over 25,000 unique visitors today. If there was a Grand Prize to celebrate, it would go to an unknown visitor from W. Babylon, NY who came to the Poobah via a search on (and this is real): "how to cope with a chronic complainer" - very appropriate I thought.

So, W. Babylon person...thanks. And don't let any towers fall on you.

You can continue your quest for cultural enlightenment now.

Four hundred years ago this month, three shiploads of settlers left England for the New World. Today, we think of Jamestown as a crowning achievement built by intrepid explorers challenging a dangerous and uncertain New World. In fact, the adventure was a problem-filled fiasco that nearly collapsed before finally taking root. Their problems were similar to those we face today - except dressed up in funny iron helmets, bulging pantaloons, and lace collars.

The epic voyage's poor planning was eerily Rumsfeldesque - as they say today, "mistakes were made". The Virginia Company - the Halliburton of the day - filled the colonists' ranks with a collection of n'er-do-well upper-class gentlemen and poorly trained lower-class peasants ill-prepared for a mission of exploration. They were commanded by cronies hand-picked by the company back in England.

The Unwelcome Wagon

After meandering at sea for months, the colonists arrived at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay low on supplies and in a cranky mood. They were so glad to see land again, they pulled over and threw a fabulous Mission Accomplished celebration. Unexpectedly, a band of natives appeared to run the group off mid-ceremony - not unlike the Iraqi Welcome Wagon threw imaginary flowers, and later bombs, at the feet of their conquering heroes.

The ships traveled up the James River looking for a place to colonize. Again - much like a Halliburton project - they couldn't have chosen a worse venue if they'd run a billion dollar feasibility study. The place was swampy and full of malarial mosquitoes. The drinking water was so salty, it poisoned several erstwhile settlers. Despite the lessons of their aborted Mission Accomplished celebration, the settlers sat back and relaxed until attacked by another band of insurgents. The fort they belatedly built was an oddly prescient harbinger of Baghdad's Green Zone.

Eating Their Own

While the fort protected them from natives, it didn't protect them from each other. Chronic shortages of food and political infighting plagued the colony. Their uneven foreign policy with the Indians consisting of periods of peaceful trade interspersed with deadly attacks provoked by blundering settlers expecting European behavior from the locals. A sort of reverse Old Europe mentality to paraphrase Rummy. Each time there was a crisis, the weak Company-appointed leaders were jailed and replaced by self-aggrandizing braggarts like John Smith. Replace Smith's iron helmet with a cowboy hat and he bore a striking resemblance to our current leader, except the he somehow managed to actually keep things moving.

Reduced to eating rats, the colonists began to eat their own. Archaeologists say murder was a common occurrence and political upheaval was the norm. A slow bleed, reinforced by Smith's promises of just one more corner to turn, reduced the population to 38 starving souls. Despite the dire conditions, the gentlemen of leisure still only worked at the point of Smith's sword. Apparently, draft deferments were still a few years into the future.

Eventually, the demoralized settlers decided to make the long trip home. On the back to the sea, they met long overdue supply ships bearing the flag of KBR, er, the Virginia Company. They surged back to the abandoned fort and proceeded to eat nearly all the provisions in yet another Mission Accomplished celebration, leaving them where they left off except for additional mouths to feed.

Halliburton's Board Gets a Clue

Unlike the theocratic, evangelical New England colonies to come, Jamestown was supposed to be a business venture. The Virginia Company, heavily invested in sure-fire gold futures, found none. They eventually turned a profit by selling wild weeds. It's rumored the first weed farmer was named R.J. Reynolds - a man who swore by the medicinal powers of the stuff.

True capitalists, the Company belatedly realized you can't make things to sell if you have no skilled labor. They pitched glassmakers and other artisans the delights of life in the New World. Craftsmen surged in, buoyed by promises of free land after serving a six-year indentured servitude. The upper class gentlemen still refused manual labor and the servants' enlistment bonuses were held hostage to Iraqi-like stop-loss orders and involuntary deployments. Then, as now, the upper 1% profited the most.

Americans Are Such Slow Learners

As much by accident as tenacity, the colony survived and 400 years on left us with a country that still hasn't resolved the problems of poor leadership, bad policy, and poorly distributed economic gains. If there's one thing that can be said for Americans, it's this:

We're really slow learners.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics humor iraq omnipotent+poobah

Dear Mr. President

2007-05-01T20:02:00.000-07:00

Note: After President Bush's veto of the war funding bill, I sent the following email to the White House. In a departure from my usual practice, I have used my real name so that he is able to see exactly who I am and what I believe.

Dear Mr. President,

I am writing this letter in the unlikely event you will actually see these words. Even if you do, I know it is unlikely that you will heed my words where so many other more knowledgeable, powerful, and eloquent people have failed. Still, I am a loyal and patriotic American and believe it is my duty to make my voice heard. To do less would be to surrender my responsibilities as an American. To do less would make me exactly what you accuse your detractors of - traitors.

Without the slightest trace of personal malice, I can say that your veto of the war funding bill is not only disastrous, but shameful. In your veto speech you again repeated venomous accusations that those who oppose you offer comfort to the enemy and are unwilling to "support the troops".

Respectfully Mr. President, if you believe this, then you must also logically believe that you are equally unwilling to support them. You are the one who thrust them into a deadly, untenable war. You are the one who has repeatedly lengthened their tours of duty. You are the one who tried to hide their flag-draped coffins and welcomed the maimed back to a squalid Walter Reed. You sir, sent them into harm's way poorly equipped and directly conducted disastrous policies that have killed thousands of soldiers and American civilians along with tens of thousands of innocent Iraqi civilians. These actions occurred long before a timetable was a gleam in anyone's eye and you have the temerity to point to these acts and speak of progress.

Sir, these actions are the very antithesis of support.

Mr. President, your veto was not about timelines or benchmarks, pork barrel projects or political maneuvering, and you know it. This veto was about avoiding something every one of those troops has to face daily - responsibility. They swore an oath not unlike the one you swore. They hold that oath inviolable. They do not run. They do not refuse your orders. They go to war and fight and die. And if they are lucky enough to survive, they return only to leave their families and go back again and again, because their oath said they must follow the orders of their Commander-in-Chief. These men and women have a different definition of their oath. Their oath is sacrosanct and despite the fact I totally disagree with any utterance you have ever made about this war, I solidly support every last one of them in carrying out that oath. To accuse me otherwise is a personal insult to me and every other patriotic American who thinks likewise.

How dare you Mr. President? How dare you?

I've heard you live in a bubble, but I'm sure you have heard the voices of the people - they are impossible ti miss. You have seen the increasing number of people taking to the streets in an ugly reminder of the last time we blundered into a war that served no purpose. Many have made light of your veto coming on the anniversary of your embarrassingly infamous "Mission Accomplished" speech. I think we could all agree there is much irony in that date, but there is another date in the news today - May 4, 1970. That is the day four Kent State students were killed in a Vietnam war demonstration gone awry. This date doesn't represent irony Mr. President. It reminds us of a dangerous time when America was riven by wholly avoidable strife because of a war our leaders were too cowardly and irresponsible to end.

Mr. President, with all due respect, your continued efforts to keep this war alive in the face of overwhelming and growing opposition of the people is just as cowardly, and ultimately, just as disastrous as the actions of the Vietnam era administrations. So in the vain hope that you still have a shred of decency, I implore you to actually negotiate with Congressional leaders when they visit you. The time is long past for feigning flexibility while pouring concrete around your position. The time is long past calling your fellow citizens traitors. The time is long past for this shameful episode to end.

It is my sincere hope that you finally decide to stand up to the responsibilities of your oath and duties as Commander-in-Chief. You may say that those who believe it is time to withdraw are cutters and runners. But if you do, I choose to say you are a fool.

Respectfully,
Jack Koeneman

What's It Like to Be a Dick?

2007-04-29T17:10:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, I wonder what it's like to be Dick Cheney. Is he really that sullen and sour in his personal life? Does he see plots around the corner from his living room as readily as he sees them in the Washington press corps? I've known more than my fair share of difficult and persnickety people, but Dick is at the extreme edge of the envelope.

The Cheney family (they pronounce it Chee-Nee) makes a little more sense.

Wife Lynn can be snippy while she unstintingly supports the Big Guy, but she at least smiles occasionally and intimates there may be an actual human being lurking under the skin. Daughter Mary is the lesbian who's seemingly more sensible than Mom or Dad - perhaps that "gay gene" had a common sense enzyme attached to it. Daughter Elizabeth may be the smartest of the bunch. She's normally remains in the background, just an entry in Dick's Wikipedia entry, thereby avoiding the ill-will of the nation and two-thirds of the world.

The Two Dicks

For me, there are two Dicks. One is the affable, seemingly competent SecDef during Gulf War I. He smiled. He gave interviews. He answered questions rather than telling the questioners their questions were "inappropriate". Then there's the Dick we suffer today. A curmudgeonly semi-hermit, with all the warmth of Batman's Penguin, who crawls out from under his rock to pronounce most of the US population traitors and unpatriotic vermin. Dick's Gulf War smirk has turned into a venial, incessantly pissed-off mug convinced everyone in the world is wrong except him.

There were harbingers of Dick's conversion from his Gulf War self from the beginning of the administration. Tasked with choosing a viable Veep for George W. Pootiehead, he chose - SURPRISE! - himself. Even by Washington standards, that was an impressive display of hubris. I believe he always coveted the top job, but was savvy enough to know he couldn't win, even with Robertson, Falwell, and Dobson rowing his boat. He needed the coattails of someone so completely devoid of common sense, they'd outsource the whole job to him.

By the time Dick and George took the stroll down Pennsylvania Avenue, Dickie had stacked the cabinet and pulled off a silent coup. People accused Junior of being Dick's ventriloquist dummy, but Dick wasn't just pulling the strings, he chose the dummy's outfits, dressed him, emptied the sawdust turds from his shorts, and guided George's hand across whatever paperwork he couldn't sign himself. Dick divided his time between his secret, undisclosed location and showing up at the White House and the occasional Sunday morning talk show to let people know just who was in charge.

Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

One Smart Dick

There were a few dampers at the Cheney Theatre of the Absurd, but mostly he ran amok, undeterred by the guy actually in charge or any of the politicos charged with keeping him on a short leash. Dick was, and is, a force of malevolent nature. Team him up with Rove and they make Katrina look like a breezy day in the spring. They don't believe in a scorched earth policy, but scorching the dirt, digging it up, and firing it into space on the tip of a nuclear warhead.

There's probably little left to fear from George as his administration runs down. He's slow and the scandals are deep. He's already stated his intention to be pigheaded until the last day so we'll get what we expect from him until the next election because quite frankly, there's little left for him to hose. It'll be wall-to-wall scandal and world class ineptness all the way.

But Dick is smart. He may be crazy, but he's mean and single-minded. It's a deadly combination. From all outward appearances, he's a man obsessed and not shy about using his considerable power to make the point that he is right and everyone else is wrong. I don't know what the corrosive substance was that turned him so rabid, but it's still there and hasn't run it's course. I wonder about what the inside of his head looks like and what it all means for the rest of us. I can't even picture Dick with a kid on his knee, so I'm completely in the dark about what he might be like with all restraints lifted.

Dick may go quietly or he may decide to take the rest of us down with him. Nothing is out of the question where Dick is concerned. He has the disposition and cunning of a wolf. Even if I can't see what's inside that angry head, I can see he's still as dangerous as a rabid dog - and just as unpredictable. I just wish I could see what it's like to be Dick Cheney, but one thing's for sure...

I won't like the view.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics humor omnipotent+poobah

A Computer Named Earline

2007-04-28T16:24:00.000-07:00

On the rare occasion when my computer turns hours of work into eMulch, my free association isn't "oh shit", but "I never used to have this problem with a pencil and a piece of paper". I'm no Luddite - although I often sympathize with them - but I'm no leading edge technology adapter either. My technology lag has nothing to do with my adaptability to technology, I just don't really see the need for much of it. I've learned to use dozens of applications, worked as a technical writer for hi-tech devices, and can troubleshoot the Omnipotent Dad's frequent computer issues over the phone with 98% success.

Perhaps there's an opening for me in Bangalore.

A Computer Named Earline

My first experience with computers predated the PC revolution by more than a decade. It was a typesetting machine - quaintly named Earline - that stood five feet tall and three feet wide. It read paper tape punched by a separate keyboard, offered no editing capabilities, and produced text on photographic paper that had to be developed, dried, and cut into the desired segments before pasting it to a paper galley with hot beeswax. Earline had less computing power than your average digital watch and a brain comprised of 37 printed circuit boards. I attended an intense month-long school on how to operate, troubleshoot and repair the temperamental bitch.

Today, that sounds like an arcane way to do something a modern word processor can do better in substantially less time. However, it was a quantum leap over the behemoth Linotype that represented a mechanical update to hand set type little unchanged since Gutenberg. Clunky as it was by today's standards, it, at least, served a useful purpose.

Today's technology often isn't.

iPod? No Thanks

I only reluctantly bought a cell phone years after they became fashionable and still only use it when absolutely necessary. My first VCR came years after everyone else had them, my DVD is only two years old, and I have no iPod. There is no TiVo in our house and we also do quite well without an entertainment center or HD television. I still own a turntable and hundreds of albums on old-fashioned plastic rather than on fast-disappearing disks.

Early hi-tech pioneers envisioned a world where computing would benevolently advance civilization beyond comprehension. Of course, such pipe dreams have come and gone before. I'm old enough to remember how chemicals and noo-ku-lar power were to transform the world into an ultra-clean utopia with robot maids and Jetson cars. Instead, computer technology primarily exists to create believable online porn and more efficient ways to blow one another up.

Somewhere along the line, technologists stopped writing software to take mankind to the moon and started creating applications that cause clear-cutting the rain forest to make paper for paperless offices. Today, we can easily access more information that our grandparents could glean in a lifetime. Unfortunately, our ability to use all the data is another problem entirely.

Perhaps the Luddites Were Right

There's no doubt computers have changed our world. Sometimes our self-imposed slavery to them creates good things, other times...not so much. We see computers do amazing things and seem alarmingly willing to forget they're stupid boxes that can't think. We transfer more and more of our world to their control, creating an environment where no one is really expert at anything. The useless data piles up and the development goes on so rapidly it has outstripped mortals' ability to cope with it. Soon, the dumb boxes will think and our evolution truly will be intelligently designed by a human God creating machines in his image. They'll eventually will self-perpetuate without regard to biological life. Perhaps the Luddites were right.

We never used to have these problems with a pencil and piece of paper.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: technology luddites omnipotent+poobah

Four Inch Squares of Underwear

2007-04-27T16:31:00.000-07:00

Thirty years ago today, I reported to the Armed Forces Processing Center in Richmond, VA. I spent the day with several hundred others being poked, prodded, analyzed, weighed, and measured. It was done en masse, impersonally, and followed an assembly line model of efficiency. I raised my right hand and swore to defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign or domestic. By virtue of being an old man of 21, I was given "command" of twelve 17 and 18-year olds. I was to make sure these young men - none of whom had ever traveled more than 100 miles from home - made it to Lackland AFB, TX.

It was like herding cats.

Get the Hell Off This M*ther Fu*kin' Bus Pronto!

We arrived at Lackland that night and were herded off our bus - none too gently - by a squad of fire-breathing drill sergeants. We spent the night standing for hours in formation or lying down in our beds only to be rudely roused every few minutes by a series of fire drills that continued until all 50 of us vacated our barracks in less than 30 seconds. Finally, our first 24-hour day ended and we slept...for four hours.

The next day we began the mystical transformation from civilians to airmen. Each of us surrendered all personal items - clothing, jewelry, books - and went to a room for identical buzz cuts. When we finished our 30-second stylings, we walked across great mounds of shorn hair and joined an assembly line.

The place smelled heavily of mothballs.

Stop One: Strip bare. Stop Two: Don an ill-fitting, unmarked uniform. Stop Three: Put on ill-fitting boots. Stop four: Link arms in pairs and walk together through a gauntlet of medics pounding shots into arms with air-powered inoculators. Flinched at the vital moment, and you received not a tiny pinhole, but a small slash. Regardless of the type of hole, they all bled. If your partner passed out, you carried him through the rest of the line.

Trabants Off the Assembly Line

We rolled off the assembly line like identical Trabants from an East German auto factory. Identical hair cuts. Identical uniforms sans name or insignia. Identical hats, folded identically whenever removed. After a 15 minute trip down the assembly line we became, not a gaggle of undisciplined and individual civilians, but a homogeneous organism composed of 50 identical and interchangeable airmen.

For the next six weeks, we acted as one. If one misperformed, we all suffered the consequences. If one couldn't hack the pre-dawn, pre-breakfast 1.5 mile run, those on either side linked arms and carried him - something I did every morning for those six weeks. If one flunked a test, everyone retook it until we all passed. Only when our entire flight suitably impressed the sergeants did we all receive the first coveted perk of individualism - our last name sewn onto a blue and white name tag.

I learned many things over the six weeks. Did you know Right Guard spray deodorant removes shoe scuffs from linoleum without ruining the shine? Or, that a bad sunburn is a violation of Article 108 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice (destruction of government property). Prell shampoo leaves no soap scum and I can still fold my underwear in perfect 4 inch wide rectangles, make a bed that can bounce a quarter, and produce a damn good "spit shine".

Hint: It doesn't involve spit, but it does involve flaming shoe polish and nylon hosiery.

Building the Better Airman

Many civilians see these dehumanizing actions as insulting and inane. They see the revocation of all individualism as a bad thing, rather than necessary preparation for the day you might be asked to sacrifice yourself. They quite often miss the point that an undisciplined, individually-focused group would run rather than stand their ground in the service of something greater than themselves without being stripped bare and rebuilt in the military's image.

I was a Cold Warrior. I never went to awful places where people plotted to end my life before I ended theirs, though I got uncomfortably close several times. I never entered combat, but was close enough to those who did and privy to enough hyper-realistic practice warfare that I know something of their sacrifice. I was simply lucky - lucky in more ways than the obvious.

My experience made me the person I am today. I still fold my underwear in 4 inch rectangles and make my bed with hospital corners. I even walk differently - with a measured 18 inch step and perfect click of my heels. But, I also know the value of something larger than myself and see the great strength of individualism supported by homogeneity. Those six weeks taught me more about handling adversity than the many years I spent surviving a chaotic home life. They taught me that sometimes subordinating oneself to a larger goal is a powerful virtue, but also taught me that molding an unfair and chaotic world to my own needs is more powerful still. Those six weeks really did make me who I am today.

And, I wouldn't change a moment of it if I could.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: military air+force memoir omnipotent+poobah

The Elvis Conspiracy

2007-04-26T05:19:00.000-07:00

I'm not generally much of a conspiracy theorist. I don't believe Elvis is in Wisconsin working at McDonald's, or the moon landings were staged in a NASA studio, or that somehow the September 11 tragedies were purposely staged by the government. I am, by nature, a skeptic. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt and try as hard as possible to base my decisions on fact.

However, I have a low tolerance for liars and charlatans once I do satisfy myself of their guilt. Nothing chaps me more than someone who tells a lie and then defends it by saying it's to my advantage that they told the lie. I'm also inflamed by the notion that if said liar or charlatan is caught red-handed, telling the lie is somehow my fault. Someone telling a lie doesn't make me a traitor, terrorist, or maniacal morale squasher.

It does, however, make them a liar.

Give Them Enough Rope...

I used to give the Bush administration plenty of leeway. If someone accused them of a lie, I generally countered there was no proof. I tended to explain each mishap as just blundering by a crew of incompetents. Of course, I also believed that no matter the reason we ended up in the soup, it was still inexcusably bad and Bush was still at the helm. I believed the cause of the blundering didn't matter much. Whether you're a ninny or a liar, bad stuff is still bad stuff.

Finally, the house of cards began to collapse. It became more and more difficult to look beyond the daily revelations of arrogant, dishonest behavior. With each oily drip, any benefit I was willing to offer found itself simply a doubt. Information conflicting with the party line was invariably blamed on lower level functionaries, the person who leaked, or the victim of the leaks. Everyone in the administration became overnight Alzheimer's victims. Executive privilege came to mean, "I dare you to come and get the information." The President came to look like a tin pot dictator protected by a squad of political suicide bombers. Eventually, the pretense of honesty or legitimate mistakes was abandoned along with the truth. The administration had gone to the well of distraction far too many times and the public came to trust them about nothing.

See that blue sky? If they said it was blue, at least 2/3 of the American public would consider it a hoax.

Blue Sky? What Blue Sky?

I don't like living in a country where I question whether the sky is blue. I don't like living in a country where every explanation from the administration is bound to cause a scandal within the week. I don't hate America. I detest what it has become through dishonesty and incompetence. I also don't like living in a country where I can't give my elected officials the benefit of the doubt.

I'm surprised to find that I - the prototypical skeptic - now find myself constructing conspiracy theories of my own.

I look at the deepening cesspool of scandal and avarice and begin to consider the unthinkable. I see top-down rust throughout my government. From the inner circle to the lowest-level cronies, I see a tower so thoroughly weakened by corrosive bad behavior that I don't see how it continues to stand. My government no longer serves me. A rabble of hubris-bloated hobnobbers have hijacked it for their own gain. Our national prestige and considerable treasure have leaked as readily as the levies in New Orleans and those leaks have eroded my natural resistance against conspiracies. Checks and balances have become a thing of the past. Our government is stacked and every switch and lever is off, allowing the administration and their supporters to stride like giants across the land.

A Real October Surprise

Looking at the facts, I can only conclude the wholesale rejiggering of my government will eventually lead to one thing - a real October surprise. Our next election may be outrageously stolen, or simply just called off. Once, such a thought would have been the worst of the worst conspiracy theories. Now, it seems to take on the patina of truth.

I sincerely hope my conspiracy theory is wrong, but if it isn't, I may find myself heading to Wisconsin in search of Elvis.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics omnipotent+poobah

Intelligently Designed Randomness

2007-04-21T14:57:00.000-07:00

Another Cell Phone Scourge - Hang up the damn cell phone and fly the plane!

Anal Retentive Workers - There's kissing up and then there's kissing up in a BIG way.

Self-Propelled Rocky - Rocket J. Squirrel goes low-tech on self-propulsion.

She Needs to Get Out More - She be woikin' them feminine ways.

Screeeeeeeeeeeam! - Somehow pedaling takes some of the thrill away.

Hey Karl, You Need One of These - Karl Rove needs one of these. Destroy evidence and stay green. Kudos on reducing that carbon footprint Karl!

That Just Fries My Ass - Japanese crapper technology goes awry! Hundreds injured. Film at 11!

How the Mighty Have Fallen - Another exciting episode on the secret lives of retired Rolling Stones.

That She Blows! - I hate it when that happens.

Who Would Jesus Call - Hey catholics, time for confession? Just call it in.

Dick's Been Giving Shooting Lessons Again - The Gang Who Couldn't Shoot Straight is apparently being guarded by the G-Men Who Couldn't Shoot Straight.

Eye-Kea or E-Kay-Uh? - Somehow, the sale at Ikea when terribly awry.

Which Is Worse? - I don't know what's sadder, that he built it or that he plays it. R.I.P., Don Ho.

Unclear On the Concept - This seems a little counter-intuitive to me. Maybe that's why they discontinued it.

Strangely Compelling - Lay down a funky beat with those funky pits.

There He Goes Again! - And this interview is surprising, how?

A Prohetable Career - That Jesus! He was one damn good capitalist. (Tip of the omnipotent chapeau to Hiromi)

Just Go See - Some of the best photography I've seen in awhile...no joke...just go see it.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: randomness omnipotent+poobah

The Incompetent's Incompetent

2007-04-20T17:16:00.000-07:00

It's no secret the Bush administration prizes political patronage for "loyal Bushies" over anything else. All administrations dole out plum assignments, but Bush has stacked the entire government right down to the Assistant Postmaster in Hooterville, USA.

Bush's nominee vetting is inept. He selects his junior Turd Blossoms based on their belief in God or willingness to walk through fire to protect his craven ass. He has the uncanny ability to select people who don't have the faintest whiff of experience for their feather bed jobs. The result? They dig open pit mine-sized holes from which there is no escape save once again becoming lobbyists and CEOs.

At Least He's Our Turd

Congress, especially the Republicans, only compounds the problem. Their approval rationale goes, "I think he's a turd, but by God, he's our turd and that's good enough for me. Let's vote!"

The dysfunctional selection process guarantees appointees selectively bred for failure. A Presidential staff, who never met a donor they didn't like, submits nominees with no experience beyond the brownest nose and plushest lips ever to graze a Texas backside. Congress holds their nose and approves the nominee even when the nominee can't identify the three branches of government, much less run one. When the nominees stumble into trouble, the Bush/Cheney/Rove troika give them their full, unqualified support...while handing them a bar of pig iron as a floatation device.

With a process like this, it's amazing the country continues to stand. Every nook and cranny of our government is chock-a-block with people having the perception of a tree stump. They are so magnificently incompetent you might refer to them as incompetent's incompetents.

The Incompetent's Incompetent

Alberto Gonzales is the latest one. He, or whoever pulls his strings, stupidly decided to replace Federal prosecutors in a spectacularly ham-fisted way. He could've said, "It's legal, we can hire and fire at will" and shut his mouth. Instead, he started a long slide down the slippery slope of a self-made dung heap. First, he justified the firings by explaining the sacked lawyers were sub par performers - except for that one he canned because Karl's office boy in charge of BJs needed a job. When that didn't fly, he blamed it all on his sub-incompetent consigliari. Shockingly, they balked, resigned, and spilled the beans to a now very interested Congress. Each of their conflicting statements was another shovelful of dirt from Al's giant excavation. The fired prosecutors charged political interference with on-going investigations and records and notes contradicting Al's testimony fell like a blizzard. The White House was involved, and then it wasn't. He took full responsibility even though everyone except him and screwed something up. Al was living a hyped up through the looking glass existence.

Finally Al whimpered, "Hey boss, I need some help here." George replied, "He has my unqualified support...by the way, what was his name again?"

Dick said, "Frankly, he's an Al Qaeda agent and should be waterboarded."

Karl tried out the delete feature on his email and five million keystrokes later said, "Oops, my bad".

He's Passing Through the Earth's Crust

Meanwhile, Gonzo kept digging. He's miles past the Earth's crust now and well on his way to an inevitable meeting with the hot magma of truth.

People expect Bush's cronies to be incompetent, but they expect them to be incompetent in the Dick Cheney, shoot a guy in the face way. It takes real incompetence to rise above such a pathetic field. But Al has done it.

He's worse than Wolfowitz. Dumber than Rummy. Less stately than Condi and more incindiaryingly ill-fitting than John Bolton.

The Amnesiac Defense

Al has diminished himself with so many misleading statements, white lies, and giant whoppers he couldn't get Barney to follow him to a plate of Snausages. An angry mob is calling for his testicles, his own cronies have turned against him, and he's portrayed himself alternately as a liar and nitwit incapable of doing his job. His remaining defense is as an amnesiac.

"Mr. Gonzales, state your name for the record."

"I'm sorry Senator, but I don't remember my name. I'm afraid I wasn't present at that birth and never read the birth certificate in question."

Oh, if only I could get a case of amnesia. I don't know how much longer I can put up with the present.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics gonzales omnipotent+poobah

I'm Against Abortion

2007-04-19T00:39:00.000-07:00

I'm pro-life.

I don't think anyone could reasonably argue that abortions are good - not even the women who have them. They can be risky and sometimes women must deal with severe emotional and physical consequences. Whether you believe that life begins at conception or at any date along the gestation time line, abortions are procedures best avoided.

A Pound of Prevention...

Of course, there are many ways to prevent abortions.

There's the just say no approach. Proponents believe the less said about sex, the better. They rely on a numbing repetition of the "no" mantra, having kids sign pureness pledges, and not mentioning the delicate issue in public or private. If all else fails, cold showers will keep potential fornicators from being seduced by their filthy genetic urges. There's no way these kids will blow their wads in the den while watching Pat Robertson on television.

Proponents of the just say yes approach are the flip side of the just say no crowd. For them, sex is all about procreation. Their counseling centers tell women they can have their cake and eat it too. Have the kid, but place it for adoption. Good advice, unless you happen to be a crack-addicted minority kid or one of the lucky few who live in impoverished Third World countries frequently visited by Madonna or Angelina Jolie.

Some people support the rhythm method. They recognize the magnetic draw of human sexuality and admit just saying no to something that feels so good might not work. They reluctantly allow giving into the urge, but limit themselves to non-impregnating options like mutual masturbation, "pulling out" before the seed spills, or resorting to the quaint Monica Lewinsky method.

A small number frame abortion as a states' rights issue. They ask, "Who does the US Supreme Court think it is to tell (insert Red State name here) what to do?" They'd rather trust a state supreme court to make the decisions because state courts obviously possess critical information that's inaccessible and completely unintelligible to Justice Roberts, et al.

Not Everyone is an Angel

But not everyone is a pro-life angel.

Deadly abortionists believe solid sex education works best. They think people should know about their bodies and proactively prevent "mistakes" that sometimes occur during a little heavy breathing. They shockingly believe condoms help prevent STDs. Heck, some even condone free condoms for kids who fudge their pureness pledges with window-steaming action in the back of Mom's mini van.

Others believe in the power of medication. These folks see birth control pills as the panacea. Perhaps not as safe as condoms, but partial protection is better than no protection at all. Right? Worst of all, these drug pushers believe the morning after pill is an abomination if ever there was one. That's why so many pharmacists refuse to fill valid prescriptions for them.

Yet another group of morally-challenged baby-killers thinks the life of the mother has some bearing on the situation. They actually believe that taking a life that already exists is better than stopping a potential life that doesn't. Many believe this group supports growing babies and killing them for their stem cells.

Pro-Choice and Pro-Life

I'm against abortion, but I'm also for sex education, open communication, abstinence, birth control, adoption, federal standards, stem cell research, and considering the life of the mother (and the baby's if it goes to full term). In fact, I'm for anything that prevents an abortion, so long as it works.

To me, life is a baby with loving parents, enough financial security for shelter and food, safety from physical and emotional abuse, and a healthy Mom and baby at the end of the process. An existence absent any of these things is no life at all and sometimes an abortion is the only way to guarantee a life worth living.

So, I'm pro-life and pro-choice because there is no other sensible way to be.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: abortion politics omnipotent+poobah

Clap for the Wolfman...

2007-04-18T16:55:00.000-07:00

Since he took office, the Employer-in-Chief has found any number of jobs for cronies, political hangers on, and incompetent boobs. Brownie, John Bolton, and half the graduates of Pat Robertson's Regent University are just some of his spectacular hiring decisions. Apparently, George is setting himself up for a promising career with Monster.com after stepping down. This guy could put most placement services to shame - he works on commission too I hear. Very cost effective - if you are the hiree and not the hirer.

The success of his uberhires is on display again with another one of his placements under the gun - Paul Wolfowitz. After the neocon acolyte of Donald Rumsfeld showed the world his brilliant strategery for Iraq, the Recruiter-in-Chief found him a new gig as head of the World Bank. Paul spit-combed his hair, donned his best rat-chewed socks, and headed off for the Bank's executive suite.

Wolfie Laughs His Way to the Bank

Unlike many of Bush's appointments, Paul actually made some progress in his overhaul of the bank - proving that even idiots can do something useful once in awhile. He clamped down on the endemic Third World graft so common at the bank and made some inroads in improving morale at the bank. For a few moments it looked like this crony would actually steal victory from the jaws of defeat.

Flush with his dazzling and unexpected success, Paul found a girlfriend with whom he could share his good fortune. However, girlfriends are expensive (and presumably in this case, also blind). She'd need a little something to tide her over and buy a few knick knacks for the elicit love nest. A man with the pull to fund entire nations had the perfect solution - hire the little chippy.

Skimmin' His Career Away

It doesn't appear as though the girlfriend was solid World Bank material. Moderate raises came and went for others, but oddly, the girlfriend sleeping with the boss on his office hide-a-bed got bigger and better ones. She may not have showed much savvy for international finance, but she knew where to scratch Wolfie when he needed a lil' sumpin' sumpin' to keep him banging, er, banking along.

Like a bunch of those damned ungrateful Iraqis, the employees starting throwing bombs instead of flowers at the conquering Wolfie. Paul's response was to pronounce the nepotism no big deal. "Hey, we've got gazillions of dollars here. What's it going to hurt if I skim a little off for my best friend ever? Robert Mugabe does it."

Many of the shortchanged employees didn't buy it and pointed out that fighting corruption with corruption is a like fighting fire with fire. However, with his in-depth knowledge of the arsonary arts, Wolfie didn't buy what they were selling. As always, Wolfie knew best. There was a standoff - employees against boss and boss against employees. You might call it a civil war if not for George's Totally Abridged Civil War Dictionary.

There'll Always be Another Job

So here we sit, with Third World Countries to fund and Paul and Chippy comfortably ensconced in their hermetically-sealed, protective Glad bag. If you listen carefully, you can hear Paul screaming, "I'm Treasurer of the World! I can really stop corruption now that I've had some first had training. Much better training than that horse race fixing gig Brownie had too!"

But, the employees still aren't buying and the bank's board - along with quite a few finance ministers - are jumping on the "Dump Wolfie" bandwagon.

Eventually, Wolfie will grow short of air in his protective bag and he'll need a new job to leap to. I'm sure that as soon as he puts out the call, Bush Placement Services will find him a new job. Perhaps something in the Department of Justice.

I hear there'll be an opening there pretty soon.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics wolfowitz world+bank omnipotent+poobah

The Hardest Thing I've Ever Done

2007-04-17T17:02:00.000-07:00

Each of us has our share of traumatic events. Some are life-altering, others merely stinging. I've had, perhaps, more than my share. Coping with three schizophrenics, several traumatic deaths, and the loss of our first baby before birth establish my bonafides in this regard. For most people, any one of these would be more than the normal lifetime allotment. For me, time has mostly worn them smooth. They are part of me. They form the background for the personal portrait of my life.

As I grow older - and live a more peaceful life - it becomes difficult for individual memories to clearly stand out, but a few still do. They are the ones that leap back when times are tough or subconscious thoughts trigger nightmares. These insidious ones are terrible enough to rip rationality and creating cuts that never heal. But, even amongst these traumatic events, one stands out as the hardest thing I've ever done.

The Evil Voices

My mother had been institutionalized twice before to drive the evil voices from her head. She'd been given powerful drugs and shock treatments. She palmed the pills and the shock treatments were ineffective. Her ability to appear normal, even in the throes of psychotic events, fooled even the professionals. Neither session lasted more than four months before she was classified as stable and released. And, each time she was released, the voices came out of hiding and she began to talk to the television or have long and tortured conversations with the imaginary people in her head.

My father longed for a more permanent solution. One that would bring the cheerful woman he married back to live in peace. It was time to formally commit Mom to a place where she'd stay until fully and truly stable. In those days, it was much harder to help the mentally ill. He had to shop for a sympathetic judge and hire lawyers to defend us and her. We hatched a plan to cajole Mom into the car for the trip to the hospital.

I was 14 when the day came.

The Ruse

We opened the garage and parked the car close. I lured her outside and grabbed her before she could slip away. I picked her up bodily and put her, screaming and kicking, into the car. Dad held the door closed until I could get in and hold the lock down. The forty mile drive was as long as a trip across the bleak outback. She finally stopped screaming, but began begging instead. She pleaded with me to release her. She tearfully explained she was fine. She mumbled assurances she'd never be "bad" again. In that moment, I had no reason to believe she wouldn't say or do anything to rejoin the voices in her head. I could only devoid myself of emotion and grimly hold the lock down. Forty miles, bent over with my arm painfully extended and turning a deaf ear to her anguish.

The law required she be inside the hospital before orderlies could take control. When we arrived, I pulled her from the car and gently picked her up again. She was strangely quiet and allowed me to hold her in an embrace that would have been a loving hug not so long ago. At the top of a wheelchair ramp I slowly handed her to a massive orderly. As soon as my hug stopped and his strong arms took over, she began screaming and kicking again. She knew what was behind the door - painful shock treatments, long and empty days filled with other psychotics, and an endless round of meds. This was a state of the art hospital of the time, but it was merely a nicer version of the medieval bedlam my grandmother lived in for most of her life.

Court Is In Session

Dad and I entered the hospital director's office. It was a windowless room bathed in dim light and holding dark leather couches. The judge sat at the director's desk and asked the orderly to bring Mom in.

Her restraints were off as she entered. She was disheveled and had the wild eyes of the newly imprisoned. She'd been through commitment hearings with her own mother and knew there would be no release this time.

The judge began taking testimony from Dad and the doctors. She fixed a malevolent stare on Dad. He was no longer the man she'd loved and married, but the font of her misfortune and target of hates.

Then, it was my turn.

How Could You Do This To Me?

As I began to speak, the begging began again. I was her last best hope. "How could you do this to me? You know I'm fine. Tell them I'm fine. I want to go home. I just want to love you. You're my son. You know I love you." She sniffled and cried in anguish.

But I spoke firmly over her protests, eyes focused on a small patch of the dim wall. I explained her behavior. I told of frightening incidents. I explained I had studied schizophrenia in school and offered my diagnosis - paranoid schizophrenia - more like a young intern than a 14 year old son.

He asked Mom for her testimony, but she remained silent and this time glaring at everyone - including me. She knew which way the judge would go. She knew she wasn't going home anytime soon.

The judge approved the commitment order and the orderly reached for Mom. She shrugged him off and drew her hands through her mussed hair. When satisfied with her appearance, she slowly rose and walked out the door with more offended dignity than I've seen before or since. I heard their footsteps retreat down the hall and ending with the clank of a heavy metal door. Mom was remanded to the custody of her inner demons, sentenced to the horrible things that had to happen before she could emerge with her mind cleansed.

The Hardest Thing I've Ever Done

I realized in a forcefully detached way that I helped put her there. I wasn't angry. I wasn't sad. I didn't blame myself nor did I visualize her recovery. I didn't see this as a step toward becoming what she used to be - a loving wife and mother full of life. My head was just filled to bursting with a single thought.

This was the hardest thing I'd ever done.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: memoir omnipotent+poobah

Talk...Talk...Talk

2007-04-16T16:14:00.000-07:00

As soon as the wrenching pain of Blacksburg settles into a dull ache, there'll be plenty of hand-wringing over the largest shooting spree in America's history. In a national expression of grief-stricken rubbernecking we'll discuss gun control, security procedures, and the effect of violence in our culture. There'll probably even be a television movie and book by May.

It's not that these discussions aren't important. They're a way to scrub away a bit of the muck splashed upon all of us as we realize humans - despite what we like to think - are a curious, deeply-flawed breed. Despite all our good intentions and attempts to balance the needs and rights of the few against those of the many, someone comes along who simply refuses to be, well, civilized.

Dangerously Unhinged

They might be dangerously psychotic or wound a bit too tight to cope with a marriage breakup or personal slight. Despite the fact I'm not a religious man, I'd say some are just pure evil. Shootings like the one at Virginia Tech are in a league of their own. The perpetrator wasn't some young, stupid punk who shot a clerk while holding up a Seven-Eleven. The perpetrators of shooting sprees are dangerously unhinged.

I've had plenty of experience dealing with the deeply psychotic and I have news for you - you can't stop them from doing what they're determined to do. Gun registration might slow a young punk down because he's not that determined anyway. If he was, he wouldn't be out robbing Seven-Elevens for $23 and a pack of Marlboro Lights. A waiting period might cool off a cuckolded spouse, but if he crosses the line from merely scorned spouse to psychotic killer, quick access to a gun matters little.

He's Not Just Your Bus Stop Raver

Psychotic people aren't always like the raving homeless guy at the bus stop. Sometimes, they're very difficult to detect. One moment they appear perfectly in control. The next, they're behind closed doors and alone with inner monsters who start making bloody plans and videotaping bizarre farewell speeches. Shooting spree psychotics are cunning and more determined than a Baghdad suicide bomber and that lethal combination makes them virtually unstoppable.

Strict gun control - even outright gun bans - won't slow them down. They can easily make bombs out of household chemicals or mow down people with their PT Cruiser. They're not choosy about method, only cunning about their opportunities. You can install metal detectors and they'll sneak in through a window. You can ban all violence on television, but they aren't swayed a bit by it. Their inner demons are calling the shots and it doesn't matter is the psychotic watches CSI or Sesame Street - the demons live by their rules alone.

Talk...Talk...Talk

Soon it'll be time for the pundits to crawl onto the talk shows, each convinced their idea is the end all, be all. There'll be more screaming than a Baghdad funeral, but the only change will be the hardening of us all as we try to escape the incessant 24x7 blather. There'll be little real change because there is little we can really do about it.

Except talk.

Or, be confused about why humans - however damaged - can do such things.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: current+events virgina+tech+shootings omnipotent+poobah

News in Review

2007-04-15T15:44:00.000-07:00

Rove Emails Deleted - According to the White House, nearly four years worth of emails sought by the Senate Judiciary Committee were accidentally deleted by President Bush's political advisor Karl Rove. White House spokesperson Dana Perino said, "The President believes the emails were deleted by Al Qaeda operatives. He is quite disturbed by this action and has vowed to get to the bottom of it."

"Anyone found guilty of this crime will be sentenced to a position as a federal prosecutor and summarily fired for never having graduated from law school," Bush is quoted as saying. "I believe it is important for the public to appreciate the high levels of trust and honesty continuously displayed by my administration."

When asked about the four year gap, Rove explained, "It was just a minor error. I leaned over to answer the phone and my foot hit the delete key," Rove said. "It could have happened to anyone. The keyboard was only 12 feet away in the next office. Those democrats are just a bunch of nappy-headed hoes bent on the politics of personal destruction"

Iraq Surge - In response to continued criticism of his Iraq policy, President Bush announced this week that he would withdraw all but 12 soldiers from Iraq. The National Guard members are expected to have their tours extended by at least six years to help stabilize the country.

At the same time, Bush requested Congress approve a three-fold increase in the pending emergency funding allocation. "I plan to show my continued support for the Iraqi government by issuing a no-bid contract to Halliburton for the construction of 16,000 cardboard cutouts of soldiers," Bush said. "These cutouts will stand as a proud testament to all the progress we've made in Iraq."

Unnamed sources said Bush also plans to revitalize Iraq's destroyed infrastructure by deploying 60 papier mache power plants, 160 miles of Christmas ribbon printed to look like superhighways, and thousands of hospitals and schools constructed of shoe boxes. Those sources say Bush's plan will ultimately succeed because the faux products are all made from recycled materials. "Let the dems and their global warming compadres suck on that one," one source said. "That Al Gore thinks he's just so smart. He's not the only one who can be a tree hugger you know."

Romney Adopts Pro NRA Stance - Presidential candidate Mitt Romney announced last week that he was a longtime hunter and had recently joined the National Rifle Association (NRA) for their low-cost, term life insurance plan.

"I've hunted my entire life, although mostly within the last two years when I participated in unlicensed bunny shoots," Romney said. "I'm no big game hunter. I shot the occasional squirrel, small varmint, or snofibgulos on the planet Bangdor."

After his prepared statement, Romney was asked, "Governor Romney are you on drugs or do you really believe you've visited Bangdor?"

Romney replied, "No, I'm not on drugs. I'm a Mormon dammit - we can't even drink coffee! Bangdor is a wonderful planet. I especially like the anal probes they offer there. Quite refreshing," Romney said while smiling vacantly.

Romney's campaign manager said of the comment, "Damn! He's done it again. The tricky bastard is off-message. Jenny, go hunt him down and get him back here. He needs the anal probe again."

Lieberman in Line for War Czar Job? - The President announced this week that his administration is hiring a special "czar" to lead the War on Terror. According to Senator Joe Lieberman, the czar would report directly to the President so that he is ensured, "clear and unambiguous advice not offered by the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Defense Secretary Robert Gates, or the National Director of Astrology. Clearly, the President can't mastermind the entire endeavor himself," Lieberman said.

After three rebuffed attempts to offer the job to retired generals, Lieberman put his own name in contention. "I think I can build on my abortive quest for the Vice Presidency and vast experience as a Senator from one of the smallest states in the Union, to lose the war more quickly, thereby ensuring victory," Lieberman said.

Vice President Dick Cheney, pausing during a snofibgulous hunt on the planet Bangdor, said he doesn't think Lieberman is the best choice at this time. "I'm the Decider around here. The War on Terror is the centerpiece of this administration and I'm the one running the show. Now excuse me while I return to the hunt. Festus, hand me a No. 3 Furlburfel Blaster. Those pesky snofibgulous are damn fast."

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: humor politics omnipotent+poobah

The Inevitable Imus Post

2007-04-11T19:36:00.000-07:00

Omnipotent Mea Culpa: There were some problems with the information I supplied in Sunday's post about energy policy. To get the lowdown and my apologies, stop by this post at Bring It On. Now, on to today's post.

Don Imus is another in a long line of knot headed celebrities who've put their own well-paid backsides in a sling. They exercised their First Amendment rights, while completely ignoring the accompanying responsibility to refrain from saying something terminally stupid.

Critics of the I-Man - where "I" apparently stands for "Idiot" - have every right to be incensed and call for his head. What he said was rude and boorish and there is no excuse for a national radio personality not to know that, especially when he's said similarly distasteful things before.

A Fit Punishment

Although he's apologized profusely, the offended haven't accepted. In response, MSNBC cast him adrift altogether and CBS radio suspended him for two weeks. Pressure on advertisers may soon cause CBS to revisit that decision and Imus might find himself back on his ranch without a place to hang his ridiculous cowboy hat (Bush reference not intended).

Does the punishment fit the crime?

That's a subjective call based on how offended you are, Imus's recidivism problems, and how you view race issues. There is no single "right" punishment, only one the protesters, his advertisers, and employers hash out in the national arena. If it's clear the market will shun him, CBS will make the hard call. At a certain level, it's like a racial dispute incident at any company. Only the stakes are higher. Do you fire a nimrod over their indiscretions or work out some sort of monitoring process to evaluate the sincerity of their apologies? At the end of the day the question is, "is it more expensive to give them another chance, or less expensive to cut them loose."

Al and Jesse Leading the Charge

Imus ultimately deserves what he gets. He was monumentally stupid and I can't fault those offended. However, I'd prefer that someone other than Al Sharpton and Jessie Jackson lead the charge.

Sharpton burst onto the national scene by vociferously calling for white heads over the claims of Tawana Brawley - a 15-year old black woman who charged she was raped by six white men. After months of framing it as a race issue, a Grand Jury found no evidence of the crime. In view of his current righteousness, Sharpton was conspicuously silent about the erroneous shit-storm he stirred up. His apology wasn't accepted, because he never offered one.

Sharpton and Jackson both jumped on the Duke lacrosse player bandwagon, convicting the accused white men in public before the court did it's job. Again, after months of jawing about racism, the case was dropped Wednesday after large holes appeared in the accuser's story. However, the Duke boys shouldn't expect a mea culpa from either of them any time soon.

Jesse had a moment of racial insensitivity too - one arguably worse than the one Imus brought on himself. In 1984, he referred to Jews as "hymies" and New York as "hymietown" - slurs every bit as repugnant as "nappy-headed hoes". He - like Imus - apologized profusely, but only after claiming it never happened, accusing Jews of being out to get him, and refusing to denounce his ally Louis Farrakhan after he threatened Jews with, "If you harm this brother [Jackson], it will be the last one you harm."

Imus Doesn't Deserve a Pass

To say Imus should get a pass because Sharpton and Jackson displayed similarly oafish behavior isn't right. It also isn't right that whites commit racially charged acts and try to prevaricate themselves free. Nor is it right that people of all colors look away sheepishly when events like these occur.

There will be no lasting progress in healing the country's racial wounds until those throwing the stones look at their own glass houses. Sharpton and Jackson should know that.

After all, they still have jobs preaching what they don't practice and I believe God might have a bone to pick on that score.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: racism imus sharpton, jackson, omnipotent+poobah

Randomness Wolfie Style

2007-04-09T19:56:00.000-07:00

Stinky Cheeseman Has a Girlfriend - Paul Wolfowitz is in deep doo doo over allegations he's been giving his girlfriend big pay raises. I know I'd need some payola to stay with a dude who wears holey socks, combs his hair with spit, picks his nose in public, and destroys entire countries by email. Obviously, that woman has a terminal case of low self-esteem.

Was It Good for You? - The Big Lie turned on it's head. Maybe they should use this service next time. Or, if it doesn't work out, this service. (NSFW and a tip of the omnipotent miter to Tits McGee)

But What About Ken? - Apparently Barbie is so much more than a astrophysicist brain surgeon with big boobs. She's quite the little plastic minx too.

How Much for a Lap Dance? - Hubba, hubba. (NSFW)

Horndogs-in-Chief - Clearly Dubya is not part of this crowd, but if they were doing the 10 Imbeciles-in-Chief survey, he'd be golden.

A Barack Obama for the Next Generation - Finally, a candidate I can really get behind. At the very least, she'll garner more votes than this guy. At least he didn't lose to a dead man like John Ashcroft. "Let the eeeeeeeagles soar..."

Run Ladies, Run! - Cap'n, run like the wind. The old geezer is after you and he really likes the ladies' ladies!

Would You Buy a Car From This Man? - Dubya must have been a car dealer in a previous life. The proof? It's here.

On the Catwalk - "I'm too commie for my shirt, so sexy it hurts." Those Ukrainians sure know how to make the fashion statement, eh? (NSFW)

Hair Today, Photoshopped Tomorrow - It's funny, but I always pictured them this way.

Wanna a Little Jesus With That? -First, you see images of the holy dude on toast, now he's in the peanut butter. Man, that guy is hella omniscient.

I Liked the Creme Filled Ones Myself - Yeah, but what do you dunk them in?

Angst Filled Fergie - Bumpin' to the humps with Alanis.

Get a Job! - Dad always told me to learn a good trade.

Barb Speaks the Truth - "Clinton lied. A man might forget where he parks or where he lives, but he never forgets oral sex, no matter how bad it is." - Babs Bush. Kinda like this.

From Microsoft Advanced R&D - Behold! The secret of Windows Vista.

Just Another Day at the Office - I'm suing these guys. They've obviously ripped off the idea for this game from my life at the office. Even if I don't win, I'll get back at them! Mwaahahahaha!

Yo Quiero Masterpiece - The talent some will show with their food, but can they make Mickey Mouse pancakes with chocolate chip eyes?

Made in Japan - They can invent a toilet that automatically blow dries your ass and yet they can't even master surfing for porn. Rank amateurs!

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: randomness humor omnipotent+poobah

Time for an Energy Thingamajig

2007-04-08T19:25:00.001-07:00

Over the past 30 years, administrations of both parties have squandered golden chances to forge a coherent energy policy. Though the problem had built for years, it reached a big juicy zit in 1973 when OPEC closed the taps and Americans started buying over-priced gasoline on odd or even days. As the sheiks ordered up another round of couscous, Americans got the rude awakening.

"Gee, maybe trusting the Middle Eastern despots isn't such a good idea."

Ya think?

Oil or Borax?

Reagan did little about energy independence. He was too busy trying to outgun the commies and do a little gun running on the side. He believed the US was the bee's knees and, 23-skidoo, he forgot the world's sole remaining superpower got around in a fleet of 2 gal. per mile Lincolns. Perhaps he couldn't tell the difference between borax and oil. After all, they both came out of the ground.

Although the Gulf War was nominally about Iraq invading Kuwait, it was also a prelude to what happens when the whole Middle East goes up in flames. Unlike his lunkhead son, 41 waged a popular war. He emerged with record high polls and had - again unlike his idiot child - real political capital to spend. With the despots beholden to him and the populace ready to do his bidding, it was the perfect time for a coherent policy. However, his dismal departing poll numbers and loss of the election tells the story of just how shallow the Ewing, er, Bush gene pool really is. Golden Opportunity No. 1 came - and went.

No "Oil" for the Blue Dress

Then, Slick Willy came to town. He talked a good game, but made no real progress. It was clear the old what's good for GM is good for the country maxim was alive and well and living in Little Rock. The only change on his watch was to loop the gas waster manufacturers and gas suppliers together to share the cost of lobbyists. Bill pissed away his golden chance for a BJ under the desk.

Damn, that little minx Monica must have been good. Too bad it wasn't oil that stained the infamous blue dress.

Smilin' George's Hummerland

Now comes George the Stupider. From atop the smoldering rubble he brought it to those dangerous, cave-dwelling, video-taping, Islamofacists. But, George's missing weekends with the National Guard didn't prepare him to wage war nearly as well as his Dad. Shrub, Rummy, and the Coalition of the Inept sat down at the 'ol campfire, pulled out their mess kits, and promptly shat in them - repeatedly. When those mess kits filled, they ordered up another 110,000 and ate more beans. Meanwhile, the oil gushed so fast it threatened to pucker up the entire Middle East as it flowed into Smilin' George's Hummerland dealership where the motto is, "I'd give 'em away, but my wife won't let me!"

Oil Can George turned his energy policy over to Big Dick Vader. Dick asked the oil lobby to write the policy while he got a change of batteries for his pacemaker. Then, he howled about ANWAR as if it was the last untapped field on the planet. He followed with an encore of propping up Ken Lay and telling the country, "There's no possible way you can conserve your way out of an oil crisis"...and Osama was too shacked up with Saddam you traitorous vermin!

Oil greases the US's skids. It ties into defense policy, environmental policy, and foreign policy. Almost nothing in this country is untouched by the availability of oil. We're in a race between holes burned into ozone layer by oil or an energy crisis of gigantic proportions.

The Perfect Metaphor

But, leave it to George. He took a vacation from the War of Error last week to unwittingly craft the perfect metaphor for his energy policy.

During a demonstration for a hybrid hydrogen/electric Ford, George raced to a live charging cord, picked it up, and promptly began to shove it into the hydrogen tank. Ford CEO, Alan Mulally - he of the four-month $39.1 million payoff - leapt into action and saved the leader of the free world from self-immolation, proving that what's good for GM must be good for Ford too.

About $39.1 million good for him. Not so much for the country.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics energy humor crapweasels omnipotent+poobah

Theocratic Street Gangs

2007-04-07T12:01:00.000-07:00

Today's post is in support of the Blogs Against Theocracy blogswarm. Let your voice be heard. Visit First Freedom First for more on this important topic.

One of the many reasons Europeans came to the New World was for freedom of religion. They fled a theocratic world for one that didn't clash with their own beliefs. Facing a dangerous new world, rather than succumb to another religion, was a brave statement and their example is a cautionary tale of what can happen when religion and government merge.

History is full of theocracies. In nearly all of them, a single sect emerged and consolidated their power to the exclusion of non-believers. This consolidation often resulted in decidedly undivine acts. Non-believers where often enslaved or killed. The luckiest were merely subsumed into a belief system they did not share - a familiar story to the pilgrims of the New World.

Theocracies as Perpetrators of Wrong

Theocracies perpetrated the wrongs and justified them as a divine right bestowed by their God whom they exalted above all others. For centuries, persecutors and the persecutees looked at this behavior as solely a religious divide. But, there's a sociological reason as well - people like belonging to a group. They may lack self-confidence and seek inner strength to help them navigate a cold world. They may join to avoid persecution at the hands of another group. Some seek group wisdom as a way to explain the vagaries of an unknowable universe. And some just have a vague feeling of wanting to belong - after all, everyone needs a little fellowship.

But, if we strip away the theological trappings for a moment, there is a modern-day parallel from an unlikely place - street gangs.

Bloods and Crips

Gangs offer protection from non-believers, the psychological comfort and inner strength of belonging, and a belief system that helps them deal with the vagaries of their often violent and capricious world. Gangs attack each other in the firm belief they have the right to kill or enslave others before others kill or enslave them. Like a religion, they work tirelessly to fatten up their membership - a sort of mid-growth power grab they hope leaves them the ultimate masters of their dysfunctional block of the universe.

Many religious people in favor of theocracies will find this insulting. They cling tightly to their concept of right makes might because they believe in a supreme God. However, even that argument is on shaky ground. People choose to follow a belief system - even if they believe the "choice" emanates from their God. That's why there are so many competing religions. In this way, Christians and Muslims aren't much different than Bloods and Crips. One serves a particular God, while others worship at the gangsta rap altar of inner city violence.

I choose to be an atheist, but I have no interest in banishing religion. If I did, I'd favor a belief system just as dangerous as a theocracy. I believe in an openness that is anathema to the core values of a theocracy. I choose to view holy books as good literature with handy rules for living a good life. My belief system allows me to follow the moral principles of a Bible or a Koran without the slightest tinge of hypocrisy. My moral values are basically the same as the religious, I just believe they emanate from man rather than God. I don't need a theocracy to tell me which book to read and how I should feel about it.

Theocracies Run Amok Threaten Everyone

Theocracies are a human construct. At their most benevolent, they offer the chance for people of the same beliefs to harness their combined power and do the good will of their chosen God. But the dividing line between benevolent and evil is a fuzzy, subjective one. So fuzzy, in fact, that even devout practitioners can be blind to stepping over to the dark side. Left to their own devices, theocracies can easily spin out of control - as can unchecked atheism.

Humans are at the top of the food chain. We are smarter, more adaptable, and more powerful than any other species on the planet. However, we're all fallible. If there is a God, I believe that He/She/It would be against theocracy. If God did create the basic, shared tenets of most religions, I believe He'd prefer followers who chose to follow them rather than those compelled by a human construct to buckle under the weight of a monotheistic theocracy.

I'd advise theocratic proponents to give their God more credit. If He is as an all-seeing and knowing good guy, He should be able to create an organizing principle much more elegant and inclusive than a myopic theocracy led by a few people with pretensions to the divine and a thirst for banishing all those who disagree.

I think your God demands it.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: religion blog+against+theocracy omnipotent+poobah

Tea With the Despot of Damascus

2007-04-06T20:44:00.000-07:00

Congressional cat herder, Nancy Pelosi, visited the Middle East this week. Sporting a festive new do-rag, she visited Israel for a chit-chat with Prime Minister Ehud Olmert before going on to visit Syrian strongman, Bashir Assad.

The visit prompted calls to fire departments across the nation to peel conservatives off their ceilings. They believe La Nance has set up a shadow State Department. They see her trip as one branch of government unfairly meddling in the province of another - a little like Rummy's intramural plan to set up a shadow intelligence shop to replace inconvenient CIA reports. They do have a point, conducting foreign policy is a Presidential prerogative and in a normal situation, freelance Condies usually cause more harm than good.

However, times ain't normal.

Nancy Takes Tea

We have a President with a head made of finely polished mahogany and a Veep whose grasp on reality is like a single bruised finger holding a free climber to a Grand Canyon wall. To get either one off their thumb-in-ass merry-go-round takes desperate measures and in light of that, afternoon tea with Assad seems a pretty limp-wristed encouragement, regardless of whether you take one lump or two. There's nothing illegal about her visit. Freelance peacemakers are a cottage industry manned by officials and civilians alike. In fact, many administrations choose to outsource this sort of behind the scenes diplomacy. The only thing different about Pelosi's visit is that Blackwater and Halliburton didn't profit on the outsourcing contract.

Despite Big Dick's claims that her visit unravels his carefully laid plans for flower-choked Middle Eastern democracies - and word to Dick...that boat already sailed - the visit probably won't amount to much except a few conservatives visiting Walter Reed in the last throes of advanced hypertension. Nancy knows she has no fiat to make policy and Assad knows it too. That doesn't excuse grandstanding, but at the end of the day, can things be any worse on the diplomatic front? Whatever damage Pelosi could cause at this point pales by comparison to Shrub's tsunami of ineptitude.

Bipartisan Freelance Diplomacy

Shooter calling Nancy a "bad actor" - apparently confusing her with Fred Thompson - is more than a little disingenuous. He and the rest of the 101st Fightin' Keyboardists forget - like memory-challenged Gonzos in mid-testimony - one small fact. The visit was bipartisan. Five republicans accompanied the six democrats and presumably they were at the talks and equally unlicensed to operate diplomacy in a Middle Eastern zone. If not, perhaps they left Nancy to do the dirty work and went for a boondoggle to help Walnuts McCain shop for rugs in a cozy and safe Baghdad market. Lindsey Graham says there are some ass-kickin' deals over there.

The administration also conveniently forgets to besmirch loyal republicans and close friends who muck around in their foreign policy playpen. I'm sure defrocked Ambassador John Bolton poking his mustache into the US/Saudi alliance is as dangerous as Nancy having tea with the Despot from Damascus. Perhaps Bolton's audacity has merely struck the wingnuts speechless for a change - even ace bloviator Rush This is Your Brain on Drugs Limbaugh has nothing to say about that.

Knock, Knock

Yes, in a perfect world there would be no reason that others shouldn't stay off the President's foreign policy freeway. We should have a capable leader conduct foreign policy consistent with common sense and the will of the people . But, we don't.

"Knock, knock."

"Who's there?"

"I don't remember."

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics humor pelosi diplomacy crapweasels omnipotent+poobah

McCain: Cockroach-in-Chief?

2007-04-04T16:56:00.000-07:00

To hear some tell it, the vultures are circling John McCain's presidential bid. Crazed by the smell of blood in their beaks, they forget we've seen McCain flameouts before. They also forget he keeps bouncing back with the resiliency of Bill Clinton - or a cockroach.

Everyone knows about McCain's vacation at the Hanoi Hilton - his supporters never let's anyone forget it. In a war known more for its failures than its successes, McCain was a ray of heroic sunshine. He withstood the type of torture and abuse that Gitmo waterboarding only hints at and managed to come back in more or less one piece. But McCain's had other disasters.

Shot Down While on the Ground

In 1967, while waiting for takeoff aboard the USS Forrestal, another aircraft accidentally fired a missile straight into MacCain's jet. The resulting fireball singed young John's ass and almost sunk the ship. Many sailors died and the ship suffered such heavy damage it had to return for repairs.

He bounced back - albeit to be shot down later in the war.

The Cheating Keating 5

Parleying his hero status into an election to Congress, McCain suffered a much less heroic fate as a member of the Keating Five. Many thought the five were political toast, but McCain pulled on his cockroach costume again. In an unusual move, he embraced the implications of the scandal and slept with strange bedfellow and uber-liberal Russ Finegold to produce the McCain-Finegold campaign finance reform bill. McCain-Finegold remains one of the few serious efforts at stemming the tsunami of money from special interests, but it's success is a little cloudy. If dirty money keeps rolling in at its current exponential rate, the entire US economy will be based on campaign financing by 2008.

He's bounced back again, just look at the reformed loot spilling out of his cockroach costume.

The Forked Tongue Express

In 2000, McCain hopped aboard Straight Talk Express I and toured the country bashing George Bush and giving genuinely funny interviews to Jon Stewart. For awhile, he was the darling of the Republican crowd. Then, he entered a string of dubious foot-in-mouth moments followed by an embarrassing "I love you maaaan!" hug for arch enemy Bush at the convention.

Since then, he's been busy pandering to anyone who'll listen and rehabilitating himself in a way that would make Nixon apologists proud. Straight Talk II is on the road again and he's singing the Don't Cut and Run blues to a catchy flip-flop backbeat. Still, he's not getting much traction against Mormon Mitt and America's Mayor so the vultures are gathering.

A Kafkaesque Metamorphosis

However, Snake-Bit John may still pull off a Kafkaesque metamorphosis. Mormon Mitt is having trouble keeping his stories straight - he's no doubt been drinking the evil stimulant coffee again - and America's Mayor has the most dysfunctional family since the Clintons, Carters, or Kennedys. Dragging Capo Kerik and his mob connections along, he's cementing the reputation of the Republicans as the biggest campaign incompetents around.

If and when those two go down, Cockroach John will be standing by, ready to drive the Forked Tongue Express into the White House garage. So, word to the vultures...

You might want to roost for awhile. Johnny Comeback may still get his meat into the freezer before it becomes spoiled road kill.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics john+mccain crapweasels omnipotent+poobah

No Hoblay Espanolish

2007-04-03T16:54:00.000-07:00

The old saw goes, "you know a politician is lying if you see his lips moving." There's something else you'll know too, "you know a 'clarification' is coming if you see a politician making a speech."

Newt Richgrinch is the latest politician limping for cover with a foot full of self-inflicted buckshot. He went on Hannity and Colmes to "clarify" language he used at a weekend meeting of the National Federation of Republican Women. His speech advocated abolishing bilingual education so people wouldn't speak, "the language of living in the ghetto". That was an odd statement from a man whose only experience with ghettos is watching Huggy Bear on Starsky and Hutch reruns.

Strangely, Hispanic leaders were inexplicably miffed at the slight. Who knew?!

Watch Out, His Lips Are Moving!

With his furiously moving lips in a sling, Newter decided a little fence-mending was in order. However, he took an odd route to his attempted mea culpa. I "did not refer to Spanish," Newt said while moving his lips. "What I meant is very clearly, Alan (sic)," apparently speaking of the newly created language of Alanish.

Um, Newt? NOT!

Though he refused to say exactly which language he did mean, he went on to give a seriously convoluted clarification that would make the best obfuscating lawyer get all misty.

"Now, I’ll let you pick — frankly, ghetto, historically had referred as a Jewish reference originally," said Linguist-in-Chief Snoot (who apparently could use a few grammar lessons his own self). "I did not mention Hispanics, and I certainly do not want anybody who speaks Spanish to think I’m in any way less than respectful of Spanish or any other language spoken by people who come to the United States."

"No Hoblay Espanolish"

"No hoblay Espanolish there Paco. Comprende?"

So you don't want to offend Hispanics by implying they speak ghetto, but defend yourself by implying Jews do? Smooth move there Newty. Would you like to pin the ghetto-talk label on anyone else? Blacks? Norwegians? Insane crackers from Georgia perhaps?

All politicians fall into this absurdist clarification cycle from time to time. It's inevitable if you jaw like a crack-addict looking for a fix, but some must clarify more often than others. Our presidential grammarian is a master of these oopsy daisy slips of the tongue. He apparently has a cabinet-level secretary with a $6 trillion budget devoted to erasing his screw ups. Clearly the Secretary of Orwellispeak upholds the fine competency standards of the rest of the administration - $6 trillion and they still can't train the smirking chimp to say "noo-cle-ar".

While Newt may not be a world-class mush mouth yet, it would seem he's pushing hard to give up his amateur standing and join the pro circuit. Of course, these things have happened to Newt before. Remember his Contract With America - a corruption of the original Contract On America? I believe he excused that one by saying he was overcome by testosterone poisoning brought on by the torrid, extramarital affair he was having at the time.

Oops, let's clarify that...

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: humor politics gingrich crapweasels omnipotent+poobah

The Fat Lady Sings to Hank

2007-04-02T19:21:00.000-07:00

Many people have remarked on the similarities between Iraq and Vietnam. They're militarily very different, but there are strong political parallels. Both are examples of open-ended wars with no clearly defined vision of success. Through a combination of addlebrained policies and propping up corrupt and dangerous allies, both wars lost support and created suckholes nearly impossible to crawl out of. The Vietnam saga ended when the US declared peace and went home. As expected, the north overran the south in short order and the US went into a 30-year snit limiting contact with the newly unified country until recently.

Over the weekend, Henry "Peace is at Hand" Kissinger weighed in on the futility of further war in Iraq. In his view, the place has become a no win albatross around the nation's neck. While he believes - quite correctly - there will be a mess in the power vacuum of a withdrawal, he sees the US at another peace is at hand moment. In short, we can't go forward because the chance to do so is in the past.

Hank should know. He saw the "Yankee go home" graffiti on the walls of Vietnam. He also knows because he's been advising the current administration to forge on into the swamp just as he did in his war. Hank's thick, omnipresent glasses apparently don't correct his near-sightedness, so he relies on feeling the swamp muck rise up around his neck to tell him he's in too deep. The Bushies apparently mistook the hard lessons of Vietnam as a handbook for success rather than a warning to the wise.

That being the case, God help us if George, Dick, and Rummy become the next generation of paladins advising future Presidents on losing wars. We're already seeing a poorly made Vietnam sequel in which George plays Nixon, Rummy is Robert McNamara, Condi does a mean turn as Hank Kissinger, and a cast of thousands plays the war dead.

The Kisser may be very good at many very bad things, but he does know one thing for sure - the story must end when the fat lady sings.

I think I hear her warming up right now.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics iraq bush kissinger crapweasels omnipotent+poobah

High Atop Corcovado

2007-04-01T10:02:00.000-07:00

There they are, the spews du jour. Another Gonzo acolyte will plead the fifth. Turd Blossom gouged the taxpayer for political purposes. The Idiot King's 2004 campaign manager expresses a true "well, duh!" moment.

It's Sunday morning and my patience with these crapweasels is short. I must think about something else or I'll go mad. And, the thing I've decided to think about is, "wow, just WOW!" That's Peacechick Mary's comment about Friday's post, Tea and Cookies in Turkey.

Mary's comment took me by surprise.

Cookies is a typical memoir post for me. They allow me to escape the unrelenting vicious political screeds and humdrum boredom of life. I can wander through more pleasant times and vicariously live a little via memories.

Chocolate Memories

The memoirs are the chocolates that wipe the foul taste of a bad meal from my mouth.

Oddly, the exotic times don't seem like WOWs to me. Rather, they're an extension of my present - a quiet and vanilla life filled with everyday pleasures and annoyances. Over the years, I've burnished my memories through constant use. In hindsight, they shine in the sun, lustrous and illuminating.

But, they weren't always like that.

The Everyday Exotic

At the time, they seemed much less romantic and more like everyday experiences - because they were. For a time, my everyday life was filled with hundreds of events like Cookies. Before I turned 30, I'd survived a childhood in daily contact with two schizophrenics, interviewed Daniel Elsberg, and traveled to every US state and Canadian province. I'd visited 25 countries on every continent save Australia and Antarctica - from Yokohama to Tehran, Point Barrow to Punta Arenas. I'd already had a career as a writer and photographer and moved along to aviation - a career that lasted more than another 10 years in various capacities.

Someday, I may tell you about standing atop Corcovado looking at the beauty of nighttime Rio. If I do, I'm sure the breathtaking beauty will come through because that's the way I like to remember it.

But at the time, it was different.

I'd been traveling non-stop for nearly four years. That night came during a 16-day swing through South America. My life was over-full with exotic places and experiences, and quite frankly, I'd begun to take them for granted.

In real life, that night was beautiful, but also telling.

Atop Corcovado

I stood there with a good college friend who lived in Rio. Although she'd seen this view dozens of times, she was captivated. We stood hand-in-hand in the star-filled night with the shining Christ statue at our backs and she said, "Isn't that the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"

And I replied, "Yeah, it's OK."

It was incredibly beautiful and I saw that, even at the time. But by that night, my eyes had already seen so much I expected excitement as my due. I was jaded. I saw the beauty, but didn't feel it. It's only now, 30 years on, that I have the luxury of distance and the maturity to appreciate the life I led.

The stories I tell really happened. I lived them. The details are all true. My only edits are exorcising the boring parts and presenting the shiny remainders so the stories conform to my idealized memory.

Comments like Mary's are frequent. Some say they envy my life and wish they'd lived even a small portion of it. I'm flattered by those comments, but they make me think about stories like Cookies.

All in a Day's Work

Walking the airplane back up that hot, dusty runway was simply my work. There was always a tomorrow when I could dip my toes into the Black Sea or see a remote place few people ever visit. I surely enjoyed the tea and cookies, but I'd broken bread in many exotic locales and accepted the kindness of people like the Turkish man and his grandson many times before.

It makes me realize that someone else's life always seems more exciting than your own. Their experiences are unique and that makes them fresh and exciting. With the benefit of hindsight, I also realize something else. I've lived my life as you see it. Looking back from afar and savoring it as you sometimes do. I wish I could step back into the past and relive those stories - this time, smarter and wiser - but I can't.

In the end, I only have the stories and they will have to do.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: memoir travel omnipotent+poobah

Tea and Cookies in Turkey

2007-03-30T16:58:00.000-07:00

"You ever go in here?" the pilot said to his co-pilot.

"Yeah, it scared the shit out of me. It's waaaaay short and that downslope's wicked," the co-pilot answered. "High pucker factor for sure."

I had to agree. After hundreds of hours of flight time, I'd never been to a loose gravel runway with an upper end on the downslope of a Turkish mountain, the other end wetted by the Black Sea, and so short it was barely long enough to land our airplane. To say the flying was challenging was an understatement. To say it was frightening was too.

Was Food Really Necessary?

The Cold War was on and the Russians were not so far away on their own side of the Black Sea. The Turkish shore sported dozens of listening posts and radar sites and all those listeners and watchers needed food, mail, equipment, and all the other things a modern army needs to wage a tense, non-shooting war. I checked the tie-downs for a few tons of the stuff and wondered whether food really was all that essential.

I finished the checks and climbed up to the flight deck. It was bright and the sun reflected through our greenhouse windows, off the Black Sea. Straight ahead a huge mountain blocked our path. There was a tiny brown slash along the shoreline and I felt a familiar pucker feeling in my butt.

A High Pucker Factor

It really did invoke a high pucker factor.

We began our approach flying up the slope of the mountain and past the runway. The uphill flight produced a slight sense of vertigo as the ground rose to meet us and we climbed to keep it away. Our sense of distance felt odd too. Contrary to the normal physics of sight, the runway seemed smaller as we neared. About a mile past the runway, we made a long, climbing turn and aligned ourselves with the strip.

"OK, just as soon as we touch, we're going to stand on the brakes and go full reverse," the pilot said. "Crew, I want everyone strapped in. It's going to be rough as hell."

The ground that previously rose up to greet us now fell away more like a takeoff than a landing. To my stomach and inner ear, we had entered a climbing descent. That couldn't be right, could it? Was I feeling negative Gs or positive? Only the altimeter and accelerometer could tell for sure.

The pilot flared for his landing before we even reached the runway. His goal was to use every last inch of the loose gravel. Our nose seemed frighteningly high as the loose rocks rained against our belly like buckshot at close range.

"REVERSE! BRAKES!," the pilot yelled.

A Near Dip in the Black Sea

The reversing engines screamed. The airplane bucked and wobbled crazily as gravity threw us into our straps like a devil pushing us toward the lip of a yawning maw. Although the runway was short, it seemed like the noise and tumult went on forever. The Black Sea roared toward us, opening itself for a possibly fatal embrace. Through a side window, I saw a pickup flash by at breakneck speed.

"Shit, that water's coming up fast. Too fast," I thought.

Oddly, there was little sense of slowing. We seemed to go straight from a screaming tear down the runway to a full stop. When the pilot pulled the engines out of reverse, the airplane became shockingly quiet and an unnaturally still. The Black Sea lapped placidly a few feet away from our nose, certainly too close to see the line where land met sea.

"OK," the pilot said, "Let's get this puppy turned around. Chief, hop out here and walk me around. This is a tight fit."

A Very Good Day

I let the door down - only a few feet away from the supersonic propeller tips - and hopped out. Taking up a position on the left wing, I began using hand signals to direct the pilot through a turnaround. It was a tight fit, not unlike parallel parking a 175,000 pound car in a tiny Manhattan parking slot. We had to pull forward and then back up several times. I constantly jockeyed away from the screaming propellers so I wouldn't be blown into an unplanned Black Sea swim.

Once turned, I led the airplane back upslope - like a pooch on a long leash - looking for brush or obstacles the airplane might encounter. With a break to shoo a few lounging goats away, the walk was uneventful. A Navy Commander in civilian clothes met us at the end of the runway. As he and his men loaded their goodies into the pickup truck, an ancient Turkish man and his grandson served the crew sweet Turkish tea and delicate almond cookies. I thought, what a day. The amusement park ride of my life and fine dining - al fresco - on the shores of the Black Sea.

It was a very good day indeed.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: memoir flying omnipotent+poobah

A Bible Story

2007-03-29T18:20:00.000-07:00

A recent Time magazine cover story raised some interesting questions about the role of the Bible in public education. Although the article wasn't nearly as skeptical as I would have liked, the premise was interesting - the Bible might be a valuable teaching tool offering valuable insight into why our society is the way it is and why understanding those issues is worthwhile for budding adults.

Although teaching the Bible has been adopted by several public school boards across the country, the story largely focuses on an evangelical Oklahoma religion teacher. Comments from the teacher and her students - including some non-Christians - indicate she is relatively neutral, presenting the Bible as a starting point for discussion and open to other points of view, even those she doesn't personally agree with. While I applaud the teacher for her intellectual honesty, using the Bible as an educational tool is still bothersome. Many committed atheists - including me - agree that fostering understanding between the religious and irreligious isn't a bad thing. But, there are many problems with no easy answers.

What About Everyone Else?

While teaching the Bible may indeed foster more discussion and better communications between Christians and non-Christians, it does so in a particularly limited way. The singular focus on Christianity tends to exclude other points of view - Judeo, Islamic, atheistic - no one is presenting their take on the world. If Christianity has much to offer, the same is true for other belief systems. The Bible is a rich work of literature and includes many common sense recommendations for daily living, but so do other religious and irreligious belief systems. The question becomes, what makes the Bible the chosen text?

Many Christians argue that American culture flowed directly from the Christian cultures in Europe. Many of our national trappings - from the Constitution to our money - contain explicit and implicit Christian references and some believe this is what makes the Bible "special". The country didn't start from a base of Jews, Muslims, or Buddhists, but from Christian sects - primarily protestant - that fled Europe to escape persecution. That much is true, but that argument doesn't address the rich native American religions already here, nor the diversification of religion since. We may still be a "Christian" nation, but that's a rapidly changing condition that suggests the Bible may not be the universal religious text needed for the job of fostering religious understanding.

Trust Is An Issue

Quite frankly, there is an issue of trust too. Over the past decade, evangelical Christians have become more vocal in evangelizing the public square. From bogus Wars on Christmas to hanging the Ten Commandments in every courthouse, they believe the country is literally going to hell in a handbasket and God has chosen them to save us all. In the process, they trample the religious views of those who don't believe in hell as well as those who picture a God that happens to be different than theirs. This work isn't done in the spirit of understanding, but as a different - although no less virulent - strain of religious persecution their forefathers fled centuries ago. However, denigrating religion as the universal province of the weak and stupid is every bit as wrong as imposing a personal religious belief system on others and that doesn't help.

The core issue - as is usually true - is not whether the Bible contains useful knowledge or fosters open discussion (it obviously does), it's about people believing their way is the only way and being too pigheaded to back down. If our society was as truly inclusive as we like to think, bringing a Bible into class for a rational, sociological discussion would be a no-brainer. So would a discussion on the merits of Islam. So would enlightening others on the benefits of atheism. But, we don't live in that society. We live in one where distrust, anger, and stubborn pride rules. In many ways, it's no more advanced than in the days Christians believed Jesus walked the earth. All religions - and atheists too - have much to learn and change. As things stand now, using the Bible as a teaching tool has some promise, but until these thorny problems are addressed, it's just promise, not reality. Regardless of what you believe, we're just not ready yet.

Unfortunately, that's part of what makes us human.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: religion politics education omnipotent+poobah

The Ponytail

2007-03-29T05:43:00.000-07:00

There are many mysteries in life. Large and small, they appear to us all the time, misty dawns of recognition that our experience is tilted a degree or two out of true. Some of us are lucky enough to unravel a few, but most of us travel to our grave with a heaping portion that we never figured out.

I often ponder the big ones. What's my purpose in life? Why are some people so cruel? What does it feel like to take your last breath? Who reads this blog, and more puzzling, why do they? However, the most intriguing mysteries are the small, inexplicable things. I like the ones beginning with a queer observation and leading to the luscious meat of a story - unknowable, yet pregnant with possibilities. The suddenness of these mysteries are delicious and the answers not nearly as important as the mental journeys that breath life into them.

The Weirdness Begins

One very early morning I stopped at an ATM. It was drizzling and the streets reflected tail lights and street lights with their asphalt sheen. The windshield wipers tapped a womblike heartbeat and I could just make out my breath in the cool, moist air. My mind was on other things.

I navigated the ATM's boops and beeps of technology and the robot inside spit some cash into my hand. I began to wonder about the money machine. What did it look like inside? How much cash did it hold? What did its ever-vigilant camera see each day?

I stuffed the cash into my wallet and returned to my car. Along the way, I looked down and saw something straight out of the Twilight Zone. A short, 12-foot walk gave my stock of mysteries a new one I still remember, with pleasure, to this day.

On the sidewalk, next to a deco-urban tree, lay a long, brunette pony tail with a red rubber band still attached. Next to the hair was a gleaming fresh pair of scissors alongside its torn packaging.

I don't know about you, but this seemed a rather odd occurrence. The discovery slipped my moorings to the mundane mysteries and made me wonder.

What's Up With That?

The stuff lay directly in the ATM camera's view. Did someone routinely view the tape and discover the explanation for the emergency barbering? Had it been a robber slicing off his hair as a quick identity change after a bank heist? Perhaps a girlfriend on her way home from the close-by bar, was infuriated with a boyfriend who'd always loved the pony tail - maybe a little too much? Maybe the answer was a Britneyesque breakdown just one step short of a fully shaved head.

My mind struggled to grasp the possible explanations. I thought about the find for several more days, playing out each plot line and thinking to myself that a ponytail laid out on the sidewalk would make a great start for a novel or short story, even if the story went no farther than the ponytail itself.

Taking It to the Grave

So, it remains one of those mysteries I'll take to my grave. I suppose it's possible the find had a plausible and reasonable explanation, though I could never think of one. But the oddest thing about the Day of the Ponytail is that I've never told it to anyone until now.

I didn't hide it, at least not in the way people hide UFO reports for fear of ridicule. I just decided to keep it to myself and pull it out occasionally to play with like an old, familiar toy. I've often thought about a short story centering on it, but I've never written one. It has remained just a personal mystery for nearly 12 years, a landmark on the road to my last breath. I find myself wondering if it will come to me in that split second before I depart this earth, but knowing that even if it does, it'll remain a mystery I will never have the pleasure of solving.

So, I bequeath this mystery to you. Use it wisely. Take it out in moments of boredom and think of all the possibilities.

Personally, I think it's a mystery worth knowing, but not ripe for solving.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: memoir omnipotent+poobah

Did Katie Bar the Civility?

2007-03-27T17:20:00.000-07:00

Until she was anointed America's first solo female network news anchor (how's that for a string of qualifiers), Katie Couric was mostly known for her freakish 10,000 watt smile and hosting cooking sessions on the Today show. CBS executives changed all that when they chose her to replace the disgraced Dan Rather. In hindsight, that wasn't such a good move, not because a woman is incapable of filling Dan's wingtips, but because Couric is a bad fit for the job. The result? CBS currently dwells in the dank basement of TV news ratings - an appropriate punishment for the "crime".

Earlier this week, Katie interviewed John and Elizabeth Edwards about Liz's reconstituted cancer. By most accounts, America overwhelmingly backs the Edwardses' decision to keep running, so the interview forecast called for a light-weight interview designed to trade on the Edwardses' courageous decision. Instead, things went awry and instantly, sweet little Katie became known as a snarling tiger of an interviewer with the morals of Matt Drudge.

"Some People Say..."

Smilin' Kate made the mistake of questioning the Edwardses' judgment to continue their White House run, frequently beginning questions with, "some people say...". Detractors lit up like a Christmas tree (no offense to those who are differently religioned) and accused Katie of moral hypocrisy, especially since she hadn't quit her job during her late husband's terminal fight against cancer.

The detractors' central argument seemed to be that Katie's questions were out of bounds and needlessly invasive to the Edwardses' privacy and scruples. To them, "some people say..." was code for, "you contemptible publicity hounds...". To many talking heads, Couric's use of the vague "some people..." was a cop out that imposed her own moral criteria.

One could reasonably argue the questions were poorly phrased. One could also reasonably argue there may have been too many of them. One could even argue that using the vague "some people" attribution was not as proper as citing actual names. But, none of those shortcomings make the questions inappropriate.

Reporters Ask, You Decide

Reporters ask questions about events of interest. Sometimes the questions are not pretty or are invasive, but those in the public eye voluntarily put themselves in a different category than Joe Schmo - rightly or wrongly. When a reporter asks a question, it's a proxy for Joe Schmo, who doesn't have the opportunity to ask for himself. Clearly, there's interest in this case - as evidenced by the Edwardses' calling a press conference to announce it - and also clearly, "some people" are asking if it was the right decision, even if only privately.

"Most people" supported the Edwardses' decision. They saw it as courageous and didn't take kindly to questions they perceived as antagonistic. In fact, that's a bit of a double standard. In this case, most people applauded the Edwardses', but what about the questions the Big Dick routinely fields about his serious bouts with heart disease. That behavior is acceptable because Cheney has a generally reviled face, unlike the sympathetic one of Elizabeth Edwards. People don't mind joking about Dick's health because he's - the charitable word here - "unsympathetic" in general. The diseases both carry a death sentence eventually, both Edwardses and Cheney are integral players in public life, and both have to deal with the trauma on the public and private levels. Both also had an opportunity to reinforce their courage or shoot themselves in the foot with it. The Edwardses truthfully seem better at it just as Dick seems to suck at it.

Rubbed the Wrong Way

Katie's questions weren't out of bounds, they rubbed people the wrong way. The proof lies in the classy approach the Edwardses took when the dustup unfolded. They thanked Couric for the opportunity to get their story out, not only keep John's bid on track, but also to allow some of that sympathy to rub off on the millions of other Joe and Josephine Schmos who battle cancer anonymously. The Edwardses are courageous to battle towards the White House for dozens of perfectly valid reasons and a few questions from an unskilled interviewer won't change that. They embrace the hand life deals them - both the good and the bad - and cope with it in the way their public and private lives require. Katie didn't take one shred of that dignity away. She asked legitimate questions and the Edwardses answered them.

And, that is how it should be.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags:politics media couric edwards omnipotent+poobah

I Just Don't Get It

2007-03-26T16:36:00.000-07:00

I'm honest. I'll cop to sometimes not being the sharpest tool in the shed. I'm sure some wing nut will chirp in here and back me up on that - and come to think of it, probably a moon bat or two as well. On a good day I have trouble finding my ass with a Klieg light and compass, but I'm still ahead of the chuckleheads who apparently never have a good day.

They constantly amaze me with their overwhelming blindness to their own words. They often defend themselves with the perfect counter-argument without a pinch of irony. They prattle on as if the physics of the real world is nothing more than a cruel joke they've decided to ignore - "sticks and stones may break my bones, but reality always evades me".

Some cases in point:

Gonzo's Big Adventure

Does anyone find it strange the Barrister-in-Chief doesn't want his minions testifying before Congress because he fears the precedent will deprive him of the best advice available? I mean come on! If the advice he's been getting for the past six years is the good advice, what the hell is the bad stuff like?

I'm also a little fuzzy on why it's a bad precedent for the Dubya-serfs to talk without a transcript, but it's OK to drop by for a little informal chit-chat that isn't written down. Does he really think that not writing down what they say is going to stop committee members from telling the media herd, "Gonzo said it was all Harriet's fault!"?

Oh, and Tony, Congress does have oversight. Oversight just like the executive has for the Justice department. You know, those guys you keep telling everyone to go talk to as if you didn't have control over them. Although strangely, you keep reminding everyone they serve at the pleasure of your boss.

Fighting Them Over There

Despite repeated bludgeonings with proof that there were no terrorists in Iraq (at least before we created some) Mr. Bush still says, "we need to fight them over there so we don't have to fight them over here."

Respectfully Mr. President, I'd say that tens of thousands of casualties coming back over here in gurneys and body bags constitutes having the war "over here".

And I don't understand the Vice-Idiot-Savant either. He may be the only man in the known universe more out of touch with reality than his boss. He doesn't seem to understand that cackling like the Penguin, denying the situation as it beats him about the head and neck, and pissing off every country from Britain to Botswana doesn't constitute sound foreign policy. He prefers to characterize anyone who disagrees with him as a traitorous vermin hell-bent on, "not supporting the troops".

Excuse me Dick, but other than drawing fire into Bagram during your recent jaunt to Afghanistan, what have you done to support the troops? I believe you best showed your support when you answered your first media question about what the bombing was like by replying, "Actually, breakfast was quite good."

You're doin' a heckuva job Dickie. So's Halliburton.

And All the Rest

I didn't understand why Bill Clinton was stupid enough to get a BJ in the Oval Office. I didn't understand how completely he and Hillary botched health care reform and gays in the military. I didn't understand how Carter could have been such a bump on a log, Johnson could have been such an utter failure in Vietnam, or how Kennedy could be so stupid as to launch the Bay of Pigs.

I also don't understand how a man who ran on a platform of "uniting, not dividing", a loathing of nation-building, and as compassionate conservative can keep a straight face with all those lies blinking in his rear view mirror. I don't understand how a man with soldiers and wounded vets shadowing every photo op can accuse others of politicizing the war. I don't understand how he can praise cabinet members and underlings as they turn entire countries into pockmarked crapholes. However, the biggest thing I don't understand is how he can stand at the podium for each scandal du jour or each incompetent accomplishment and say, "Trust me, I'm your President."

I guess I'm just a fool.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics bush cheney iraq gonzales crapweasels omnipotent+poobah

Randomness Homo Devil Machine Style

2007-03-25T18:00:00.000-07:00

Piratical Plunderin' - "See what happens when swashbuckling pirates crash Beach Blanket Bingo." (Any interest there Cap'n?)

Just Call Him Yahoo-Fed - He's out on his own now and it's tough out there for a pimp. A dude gotta be makin' some cash any which way he can. Yo!

Eeeeew! - Now this is just gross and so is this.

Where's the Beef? ® - "That stung like a Banshee Bitchslap." Huh?

Hmmmm - "It goes down good."

How Embarrassing - To pee or not to pee, that is the urination.

And In Other Urination News... - I wonder what Madonna would think of this or this. (Tip o'The Omnipotent Birdcage to Peacechick)

Everyone Needs a Hobby - Folding paper for fun and profit (NSFW).

Mahalo Maui Rose - And now we break for a little taste of the island life.

Those Crazy Rooskies! - They say Russia has a big drinking problem. Here's PROOF! (NSFW) (Tip o'The Omnipotent Chapeau to Grad Student Madness)

Shake, Rattle, & Roll - I love this thing. Grab hold, spin it all around, and give those billionaires in first class the scare of their lives.

Imagine the Frats on Saturday Night - The secret alma mater of George W. Bush.

Average American Voter - With voters like this, who needs elections?

Go Daddy Shatters Mirrored Ceiling - You have to hand it to Go Daddy. They're a progressive bunch who really want to elevate a woman's place in society. BTW, could someone tell me who wins?

Beauty is Only Bowel Deep - Clean the windshield, slap some lipstick and mascara on her, and lube up her innards while you're at it. Oh, and check on that pollution control gear too.

MY EYES! MY EYES! OMIGOD! - Can Spongebob Cruise Lines be far behind?

Advertising on the Go - This gives a whole new meaning to the term, "double parked".

Fashion Advice for the Ruling Class - Who's gonna tell Commander Codpiece that his "piece" is so last year?

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: randomness humor omnipotent+poobah

Ma Barker's Apple Pie

2007-03-22T16:46:00.000-07:00

When Democrats won new congressional seats in the midterms, they did it with promises to break the culture of corruption. It was a powerful message, resonating with voters impatient with a long string of convictions, indictments, and suspicious deals that didn't pass the smell test. As expected, aggressive oversight is uncovering additional details and whiffs of new scandals are seeping like methane to the surface.

The Circle is Unbroken

The circle, apparently, remains unbroken.

Anyone, other than the most vehement party dittohead, sees the culture of corruption as an equal opportunity Graftapalooza. It has plenty of room for charlatans and cheats of any stripe. Democrat stacks of cash in freezers are every bit as egregious as Republican yachts furnished with expensive antiques. In a political culture greased by money, it's no wonder so many politicians line up at the lard bucket for a good slathering.

However, the Democrats are falling far short on their campaign promises. A depressing tidbit on NPR's Marketplace shows one reason why - Nancy Pelosi charges $28,500 per couple for a private howdy-do. It's distressing that lobbyists apparently travel in couples, but even more distressing that 28-large is a new record for political papal payola. Other Democratic leaders are following suit. It's true the open-pocketed Dems claim nobody is buying special favors with the 28K rubber chicken dinners, but that was lame when Denny Hastert and Tom Delay said it and lame when Bubba Bill used to sell "no special favor sleepovers" in the Lincoln Bedroom too.

All Bull, No Pulpit

Both sides complain about the need for lobbyist money to run campaigns. Okay, they have a valid point. Three years of endless primary campaigns, an endless sting of attack ads, and Straight Talk Express bus rentals ain't cheap. The days of a poli-loon standing on a free soap box preaching his screed in the public square is long gone. It might be a good thing if the bully pulpit was equipped with an actual bull. The speeches would be shorter, producing a much more attractive cost/benefit ratio for all.

Clearly, we're all locked into the same vicious cycle. The lobbyists lay out the cash ("But heavens, only through the goodness of my heart. I'd never ask a favor of you Congressman"). The pols gladly accept the palm-greasing and a golf trip to St. Andrews for listening to the lobbyist so patiently ("Policy wonks are soooo boring! My head kept pitching into the caviar"). And the electorate decries the shakedowns inevitably funded by their tax money ("Damn crapweasel politicians!). The lobbyists never seem to consider just proposing good ideas that don't require graft for enactment. The pols never seem to grasp that attack ads and rock-star tour buses aren't really essential parts of the democratic process. And the electorate? They figure it's someone else's responsibility to take back their recalcitrant parties and force the crapweasels' feet to the fire of campaign finance reform.

It's the American Way

Our way of voting simply reflects the values of our country. As capitalists, we believe in the power of money, especially when we get a little sumpn', sumpn' for ourselves. Our political process simply shows the power of an unfettered, unregulated market. The market trickles the graft at the top down to the lower levels of society in the form of higher orders for business jets and titanium golf clubs that generate jobs which a consultant will propose outsourcing to India, which pays more graft to keep the whole shebang humming along smoothly.

It's a system as American as apple-pie and motherhood....provided your mother was Ma Barker.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics campaign+finance+reform crapweasels omnipotent+poobah

The Perfect Metaphor for Peace

2007-03-20T17:46:00.000-07:00

There's a question that arises in nearly all marriages or long-term relationships. The answer to that question has caused divorces, violence - and occasionally - murder. Clearly, it's a subject that arouses passionate responses.

On the surface, it's a simple question. A cursory look suggests the answer lies in an either/or response - either voluntarily perform one action or its opposite. The response is so simple it can be accomplished in less than a second. It's a trifling question that, absent the emotion it carries, shouldn't rise any higher than the most minor of annoyances in the pecking order of mundane travail.

However, the question often marks the boundaries of a relationship and since it does, takes on an importance far beyond it's simple exterior. It's a magnet that attracts all manner of slights - real and imagined. It touches on issues of respect, fairness, and sacrifice. It not only defines who you are, but also how you demand that others be.

A Trait to Which Humans are Ill-Adapted

Unfortunately, a successful resolution requires the ability to view the same situation from both sides - a trait humans are ill-adapted to. It requires you let go of a trivial argument for the sake of peace and harmony. To answer the question you must resist the impulse to pump it up beyond recognition by making it about far more than the simple, original issue. It requires the ability to see your own actions as critically as the person you oppose in order to stop internecine warfare before it begins. It requires one of the combatants to offer the tiniest olive branch for the sake of something far larger than the question.

The question is all of these things - simple, amazingly complex, easy, and difficult - all at the same time. But it also represents one more thing that carries civilization-altering importance - it is a perfect metaphor for why the world is the way it is. One simple act. One simple demonstration of respect. One tiny inch of ground given. One easy resolution offered. Any of these address the root cause of so much of the tumult in our relationships and our world - and yet mankind invariably overlooks the solution exactly because of its simplicity. It's an attitude that prizes the complex over the simplistic and becomes much the worse for all of us.

Plumbing for Peace

What is this question that is so simple and universal all at once?

If the prevailing view is that a man should lower the toilet seat, why is there no room for the premise that a woman should leave it up?

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: politics peace omnipotent+poobah

Dumber Than Dumbya?

2007-03-19T20:18:00.000-07:00

Alberto "Gonzo" Gonzales
Possibly the Only Man on Planet Earth
Who's Dumber Than George Bush

Tech Tags: politics gonzales bush crapweasels omnipotent+poobah

In the Beginning...

2007-03-18T08:14:00.000-07:00

"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth"...and then quarrelsome humans created religion. Death and pestilence then did descend upon the earth.

-- Omnipotent Poobah

The briefest of CNN glimpses or shortest of WaPo articles shows the awesome power of religion. Even before the Romans tried to ethnically cleanse the Jews, religious wars had already riven mankind for centuries. Today, the deeply religious continue that inglorious tradition as Shia fight Sunni or a hundred other pairings pit religion against religion or sect against sect.

Oddly, many of these wars aren't even about who's God is most divine, but about who's mortal prophet preached the most charismatic dogma. So strong is the urge to fight that even progressive religions bog down under the crowns of thorns and heavy crosses of Wars on Christmas or whether "faggots" should be stoned.

The Meek and the Zealous

One could rightfully argue that religions have bestowed much compassion and comfort throughout history. Even amongst the wars wrought by their fellow sectarians, most rise above the hate and show the true light of their beliefs. There are many more adherents to these tenets than the tenets of their violent brethren, but the violent are better armed and infinitely and bloodily more persistent than the meek. It may be true that the meek shall inherit the earth, but that inheritance is a long time in coming and coupled with a horrific cost.

I consider these arguments this morning because my daughter - the child of an atheist and an agnostic - is going to church. We've always treated her with respect in matters of religion. From a very young age, we've answered her religious questions as truthfully as we could, absent as much bias as we could manage. Our parental belief is that she should chose her own path, armed with the best knowledge we can provide.

Off to Church

So, she's off this morning to the neighborhood mega-church accompanied by several friends. It's the cool church, the one with a band and gleeful singing and a minimum of sermonizing and prayer - light on the fire and brimstone, heavy on the fun. It's where many of her suburban friends go - a safe place where they socialize and escape their tumultuous teenage years for a few hours in relative comfort.

Despite her recent interest in religion, I suspect it's more curiosity than a religious awakening. She asks intelligent questions and weighs the responses with a maturity far beyond her 17 years. In the end, I'm not sure she'll be convinced of God or absorbed into a religion, but if she is, that's OK with me. She's a young adult and free to make her own choices - just as I did after spending years in the church before embracing atheism.

My only hope is that whatever path she chooses, she'll retain the calm rationality we've tried to teach. It serves no one if she falls into the trap of warring over theocratic technicalities. If she does, I'll feel as though I've lost the war. I'll still love her. I'll still support her. But, I'll feel like any parent sending a child off to war - anxious and worried for her safety. It doesn't much matter to me if she's in the military or becomes a militant. What will matter is how I failed to enlist her in one of the types of wars I can readily get behind - the war of rationality over ignorance and tolerance over intolerance.

And, that's just too important a war to lose.

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: religion politics war crapweasels omnipotent+poobah

Pre-Written Randomness

2007-03-16T16:14:00.000-07:00

The Omnipotent One has been sick for the past few days, so I leave you with this pre-written post for today:

Grinning and Bearing the Teddy Bear - They're so innocuous. How scary can they be? Well apparently, pretty damn scary sometimes.

In Other Cute Costume News - Support the Pooches!

I'm Pressing Charges - The nerve of this guy trying to cash a bogus check against MY account!

The Age Old Question - Just say, "no dear" and move along. Nothing to see here, really, nothing.

Squirelly - And now under the Big Top...rodents on a rampage!

Because You Can Never Keep Too Much Around - Special order for Miss Hiromi! Austin is once again safe!

That's Gotta Hurt - Hell hath no fury like an arsonist scorned. (Tip of the flaming baton to Tits McGee)

That's Gotta Be Messy - Coffee, tea, or UUUUUUUH!

Damn You Kim Jong Il! - You can't trust those commie bastards alone for a minute!

Jenna Makes Call To Action - And that call would be...end AIDS research!

Desperate House Husbands - Now this is just gross.

George Gets Jiggy Wid It - George W. Bush, just keeping it mad phresh for democracy.

Vomit Rocket Launched - ...and on tonight's episode of Futureweapons!

Coitus Rejectus - Which was laid first, the chicken or the virgin? A lay of the omnipotent egg to AAG)

Zoolicious - You just gotta love an elephant playing the harmonica and dancing.

Trend Alert! - Will they stop at nothing in the pursuit of glossy perfection?

Rock the Fed! - Alan Greenspan, eat your heart out.

Because It's There - Sir Edmund Shortypants to tackle Everest. Film at 11.

Stick 'Em Up, Hand 'Em Down - It seems Darby O'Gill and the Little Latex Bustier People are on the prowl. (Tip of the Omnipotent Shamrock to Coyote).

The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!

Tech Tags: randomness air+combat+usa omnipotent+poobah