OK, maybe 'sane' is a stretch, but by my count there were exactly three Republicans who came off looking like they actually gave a damn about finding a solution during the health care summit: Paul Ryan, Jon Kyl and Tom Coburn. That's it.
The rest were a bunch of grandstanding buffoons. Boehner in particular seemed like the biggest shmuck on the planet. The petulant hangdog expression on his face after Pelosi tore him a new one on abortion funding at the end of the day was priceless.
Which is not to say there wasn't plenty of grandstanding and buffoonery from the Dem side of the table (my particular favorite was Dodd saying he was going to be brief so Patty Murray could use some of his time... jump cut to ten minutes later, as Dodd is still going full throttle about, err, something or other...) but it wasn't an epidemic the way it was among the Pubs.
Right Up To Your Face And Diss You
I've been trying to watch the health care summit on CNN, but their inane sports commentary drives me nuts. They keep cutting away to the studio so Wolf Blitzer can ask Candy Crowley or John King who's scoring the most points. It's like a seminar on what killed American political journalism. Hell, they're even calling the lunch break half time, and wondering if Coach Obama is going to change the game plan in the locker room. I want to strangle the lot of them.
Except Roland Martin. Goddess bless you, Roland. Wolf turned to him for some half time analysis, asked him how he'd score the action so far, and Martin's response was essentially: I wouldn't. It's stupid. A big part of the problem is that voters are sick of seeing politicians try and "score points" on this issue, and want to see an actual discussion and actual results.
Wolf quickly went and talked to someone else, and I'm not sure Martin appeared on camera again the rest of the day.
Except Roland Martin. Goddess bless you, Roland. Wolf turned to him for some half time analysis, asked him how he'd score the action so far, and Martin's response was essentially: I wouldn't. It's stupid. A big part of the problem is that voters are sick of seeing politicians try and "score points" on this issue, and want to see an actual discussion and actual results.
Wolf quickly went and talked to someone else, and I'm not sure Martin appeared on camera again the rest of the day.
The Norwalk Virus Is Not Fun
Don't believe all the ads claiming you won't be cool if you don't have it; it really, really sucks.
Anne Hathaway Is Made of Teflon-Coated Adamantium
It's taken me a few days to really recover from the ordeal that was Valentine's Day.
The film takes the concept of dreadful to new depths. It's an abomination, a safe, sterile, cynical mess that is more concerned with making sure all possible audience demographics are pandered to than it is in saying anything. Wait, I take that back; that would imply the committee who spawned this horror were in any way concerned with saying something. Calling the movie Valentine's Day must have been some kind of sick joke on their part. It's an unromantic anticomedy that will almost assuredly result in far more children being killed (as their mothers, in a desperate act of mercy, try to spare them the knowledge that they were born into a universe that could allow such a hollow, soul-withering, cancerous dung heap to exist) than conceived in its unholy wake.
Watching Valentine's Day is like staring into the dripping, newly risen, sanity-blasting visage of Cthulhu, if Cthulhu were played by Ashton Kutcher and dressed in pink.
And with that said, Anne Hathaway is impossible not to like in the movie.
I'm now convinced she could do anything, and still come across as cute and lovable. "Hey, look, Anne Hathaway starred in a remake of Salo. Aww, look, she's being forced to eat shit and mechanically fuck the guy she kind of has a crush on in front of witnesses. How adorable!"
It's uncanny. Here she is, trapped in the kind of vacuous hellscape that only Garry Marshall could vomit up, and she ends up being the only remotely human, remotely likable character in the whole damned thing. She's forced to do terrible Russian dominatrix and Southern belle voices (because, silly, she moonlights as a phone sex operator and Valentine's Day is the busiest day of the year! Even though she has a date with Topher Grace! Wacky hijinx must surely ensue!) and even the fact that she's doing truly abominable accents just makes her seem all the more charming and quirky and sweet.
I've got no desire to see the inevitable train wreck that will be Tim Burton's Alice in BeatingMyStalePseudogothyVisualShtickIntoTheGroundLand, but I'm sure Hathaway will emerge from that one unscathed too.
By the way, I'm not sure if this came across or not, but Valentine's Day isn't actually very good.
The film takes the concept of dreadful to new depths. It's an abomination, a safe, sterile, cynical mess that is more concerned with making sure all possible audience demographics are pandered to than it is in saying anything. Wait, I take that back; that would imply the committee who spawned this horror were in any way concerned with saying something. Calling the movie Valentine's Day must have been some kind of sick joke on their part. It's an unromantic anticomedy that will almost assuredly result in far more children being killed (as their mothers, in a desperate act of mercy, try to spare them the knowledge that they were born into a universe that could allow such a hollow, soul-withering, cancerous dung heap to exist) than conceived in its unholy wake.
Watching Valentine's Day is like staring into the dripping, newly risen, sanity-blasting visage of Cthulhu, if Cthulhu were played by Ashton Kutcher and dressed in pink.
And with that said, Anne Hathaway is impossible not to like in the movie.
I'm now convinced she could do anything, and still come across as cute and lovable. "Hey, look, Anne Hathaway starred in a remake of Salo. Aww, look, she's being forced to eat shit and mechanically fuck the guy she kind of has a crush on in front of witnesses. How adorable!"
It's uncanny. Here she is, trapped in the kind of vacuous hellscape that only Garry Marshall could vomit up, and she ends up being the only remotely human, remotely likable character in the whole damned thing. She's forced to do terrible Russian dominatrix and Southern belle voices (because, silly, she moonlights as a phone sex operator and Valentine's Day is the busiest day of the year! Even though she has a date with Topher Grace! Wacky hijinx must surely ensue!) and even the fact that she's doing truly abominable accents just makes her seem all the more charming and quirky and sweet.
I've got no desire to see the inevitable train wreck that will be Tim Burton's Alice in BeatingMyStalePseudogothyVisualShtickIntoTheGroundLand, but I'm sure Hathaway will emerge from that one unscathed too.
By the way, I'm not sure if this came across or not, but Valentine's Day isn't actually very good.
Cheney's Tar Baby
I think Scott Horton is right -- Dick Cheney does want to be prosecuted.
I'm not implying that, in some forgotten cul-de-sac of his twisted soul, Cheney realizes the evil that he's done and wants to be punished for it. I'm suggesting that Cheney a) believes he'll be found not guilty in a trial, and b) knows that a torture trial of the former vice president will completely consume Obama's presidency.
Obama, for his part, almost certainly doesn't consider going after Cheney to be his biggest priority right now.
Me? I believe Cheney has to be tried if the country is ever going to erase that black mark on its soul. And I believe that he will be found guilty if he does go to trial. Which leaves me right back where I started... wondering if there's anything I can do to accelerate the process.
But what about cases in which an instigator openly and notoriously brags about his role in torture? Cheney told Jonathan Karl that he used his position within the National Security Council to advocate for the use of waterboarding and other torture techniques. Former CIA agent John Kiriakou and others have confirmed that when waterboarding was administered, it was only after receiving NSC clearance. Hence, Cheney was not speaking hypothetically but admitting his involvement in the process that led to decisions to waterboard in at least three cases.
What prosecutor can look away when a perpetrator mocks the law itself and revels in his role in violating it? Such cases cry out for prosecution. Dick Cheney wants to be prosecuted. And prosecutors should give him what he wants.
I'm not implying that, in some forgotten cul-de-sac of his twisted soul, Cheney realizes the evil that he's done and wants to be punished for it. I'm suggesting that Cheney a) believes he'll be found not guilty in a trial, and b) knows that a torture trial of the former vice president will completely consume Obama's presidency.
Obama, for his part, almost certainly doesn't consider going after Cheney to be his biggest priority right now.
Me? I believe Cheney has to be tried if the country is ever going to erase that black mark on its soul. And I believe that he will be found guilty if he does go to trial. Which leaves me right back where I started... wondering if there's anything I can do to accelerate the process.
I'm Sure the Germans Have a Word For This
I'm on the board in my Facebook Death Pool.
I was the only person in the pool who picked him so yay, 43 points for me. I'm sure that Heaven, or your afterlifal equivalent of choice, has a place in it for purveyors of awesome power pop. The Knack really deserved to be more than two-hit wonders.
For posterity, here's my rest of my Death Pool roster. (There was no draft, everyone just submitted a list of 25 names). Some are there based on research, some on wishful thinking, and one in the believe that there really is such a thing as justice in this universe:
Muhammed Ali
Ruth Bader Ginsburg
Jean Beliveau
Pat Burns
Fidel Castro
Dick Cheney
Noam Chomsky
Dick Clark
Gary Coleman
Jeff Conaway
Ronnie James Dio
Kirk Douglas
Roger Ebert
Bobby Heenan
Dennis Hopper
Etta James
Steve Jobs
BB King
Gene Kiniski
Artie Lange
Abdelbaset al-Megrahi
Merlin Olsen
Nancy Reagan
Mickey Rooney
Doug Fieger, lead singer of rock group the Knack, died at 57 after a battle with cancer, his brother Geoffrey confirmed today. “I’ve had 10 great lives,” Fieger told the Detroit News in a January interview. “And I expect to have some more. I don’t feel cheated in any way, shape or form.”
I was the only person in the pool who picked him so yay, 43 points for me. I'm sure that Heaven, or your afterlifal equivalent of choice, has a place in it for purveyors of awesome power pop. The Knack really deserved to be more than two-hit wonders.
For posterity, here's my rest of my Death Pool roster. (There was no draft, everyone just submitted a list of 25 names). Some are there based on research, some on wishful thinking, and one in the believe that there really is such a thing as justice in this universe:
Muhammed Ali
Ruth Bader Ginsburg
Jean Beliveau
Pat Burns
Fidel Castro
Dick Cheney
Noam Chomsky
Dick Clark
Gary Coleman
Jeff Conaway
Ronnie James Dio
Kirk Douglas
Roger Ebert
Bobby Heenan
Dennis Hopper
Etta James
Steve Jobs
BB King
Gene Kiniski
Artie Lange
Abdelbaset al-Megrahi
Merlin Olsen
Nancy Reagan
Mickey Rooney
We Surround Them
Saw this on Sully, but it deserves as wide an audience as possible:
Those who have succumbed to hate are loud, and obnoxious, and get disproportionate attention in our Network-ized media because they are loud and obnoxious.
But they are a minority, by far. The Tea Baggers who cheered Tancredo's race-baiting, or gave a standing ovation to Birther idiocy, are not representative of the people of Nashville:
Even within the 20-25% block of Beck-watching, Red State reactionaries, the driving emotion is fear, not hate. And fear can be neutralized, with patience and empathy and even just with the passage of time. The unreachable ones, the ones who can only hate, they are but a sliver of a fraction.
They do not speak for America.
On a cold and windy February night, a man who gave only his first name walked up to the Al-Farooq Islamic Center in south Nashville and handed a gallon of stain-blocker paint and a bag of brushes, rollers and rags to a Somali man standing in the parking lot.
Tim, an East Nashville resident, said he did the first thing he could think of when he drove by the center Wednesday and saw the words “Muslims Go home” and a crusade-style cross spray-painted in red across the front of the center, which doubles as a mosque.
“When I saw it, I just broke down crying,” the self-described unemployed truck driver said. “I went straight to Home Depot and bought a gallon of paint.”
As he handed over the paint he said, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I hope you know that [this act] doesn’t represent my city. Again, I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
Those who have succumbed to hate are loud, and obnoxious, and get disproportionate attention in our Network-ized media because they are loud and obnoxious.
But they are a minority, by far. The Tea Baggers who cheered Tancredo's race-baiting, or gave a standing ovation to Birther idiocy, are not representative of the people of Nashville:
Salaad Nur, one of nine board members at Al-Farooq, said the congregation has received great community support since the incident and since a WTVF-Channel 5 news report about an alleged private Muslim community some are calling an Islamic terrorist training camp.
“We take it as a really strong symbol that the larger Nashville community is with us,” Nur said. “Especially in the face of inciting news against us. It’s reassuring that people are not shaken by what they hear over the airwaves.”
Even within the 20-25% block of Beck-watching, Red State reactionaries, the driving emotion is fear, not hate. And fear can be neutralized, with patience and empathy and even just with the passage of time. The unreachable ones, the ones who can only hate, they are but a sliver of a fraction.
They do not speak for America.
Don't Mourn, Organize
I have to agree with the readers comments to EA. The Iranian opposition, based on what has leaked out about the day's events, lacks on-the-ground leadership. The smartest thing they could do is head right back out onto the streets tomorrow, when the government isn't expecting mass demonstrations, but I'm not sure they have the organizational capacity right now to pull it off. To that extent, the large volume of arrests seems to have paid off for Ahmadi's administration.
The attack on Moussavi's wife Zahra has massive blowback potential though. As with Neda's martyrdom, that's the kind of thing that could provoke an emotional reaction in people who might not otherwise participate in a protest.
It's still a long road ahead.
The attack on Moussavi's wife Zahra has massive blowback potential though. As with Neda's martyrdom, that's the kind of thing that could provoke an emotional reaction in people who might not otherwise participate in a protest.
It's still a long road ahead.
It's Painful 'Cause It's True
JC sums up the modern American political/media landscape in one brutally epic rant.
912 And Counting
Last night, en route to a win over the 76ers that was probably closer that it needed to be, the Raptors sank at least one three-pointer for the 912th consecutive game.
Obviously that's an NBA record. I'm not sure there's any team record in any sport that's comparable to it - I'm sure no baseball team has gone that many consecutive games with an extra-base hit, for instance. I only bring it up because, assuming they keep it going, the Raptors will reach 1000 games in about a year, sometime just before next season's All-Star break.
If the game happens to be in Toronto, I'll be there. Hell, if I can afford it, I might just go no matter where they're playing. It's a small, odd, bit of history I'd like to witness.
Obviously that's an NBA record. I'm not sure there's any team record in any sport that's comparable to it - I'm sure no baseball team has gone that many consecutive games with an extra-base hit, for instance. I only bring it up because, assuming they keep it going, the Raptors will reach 1000 games in about a year, sometime just before next season's All-Star break.
If the game happens to be in Toronto, I'll be there. Hell, if I can afford it, I might just go no matter where they're playing. It's a small, odd, bit of history I'd like to witness.
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