Jay Leno Is Ruining People's Lives

And it just so happens that millions of television viewers are leaving NBC in droves, which is causing problems for local NBC affiliate news broadcasts. While NBC is saving money on the comedian and former king of late night talk, local NBC affiliated stations are plummeting in the ratings during the eleven o'clock time slot, which are making the owners, and the local news anchors, very unhappy.

And really, it's good enough for them. Seriously, who would even notice a difference? Local stations follow the same basic formula. You have the handsome and/or stately distinguished gentleman and the attractive female co-anchor, the jovial meteorologist, and the sports nut who is more of a cheerleader for the local teams than an actual sports journalist.

And of course, there's the bantering and gibes, designed to illicit the down home, kitchen table to living room atmosphere that oozes plastic sincerity. Is it any wonder most people don't bother to change the channel back to their regular local news broadcast? How are they supposed to notice any kind of difference?

Jeez, I've seen some of these clowns get all misty-eyed over an untimely death or a murder, and the next thing you know they're yucking it up over some trivial bullshit before they put on their serious face over some other tragedy, all in the space of two minutes.

Let's face it, most people only watch this shit for the weather, some for the sports. Jay Leno isn't their fucking problem. They are their fucking problem.

Checking In

Halloween, or Samhain, is coming up soon, so I have an idea. If anybody is interested, send me a link to a picture of a sexy ghoul, witch, zombie, etc., etc., and I'll pick a winner. If I choose your submission I'll plug your blog, though to be honest, it will probably be so far down on the days posts a lot of people that come here might not scroll down far enough to see it. Naturally, I'll include the submitted link as well.

I might be offline for a while until then, because I'm trying to catch up with a lot of housework, such as painting, some repairs, and some other projects that are going to take up loads of my time. But I'll still try to check in every now and then.

Until then, stay safe, and don't take candy from a stranger that isn't wrapped.

We Are Living In A Sick Fucking Society

And Richard Heene and his misanthropic family are the poster children for it. You are all aware of what an infection is, I'm sure. There are many different kinds, and they can come from a variety of sources. They can poison a person's entire system, and even kill the person. Heene is nothing so out of the ordinary as he appears at first glance. He's just the boil that erupts to the surface periodically, serving to inform you, if you are paying attention, that you have a serious problem. You have to lance the boil, but that's not the end of it. You have to take a series of antibiotics to make sure the disease is eradicated from your system.

Well, the Richard Heene boil has been spotted, and it will soon hopefully be lanced, but I doubt we will really learn anything from it. These jackals appear only because they perceive that there is a need they can fill. We as a society search these people out and encourage them, and then pontificate when they come along and give us what we ask for.

This is a man who has allowed his children to grow according to nature's inclinations, with minimal guidance, while subjecting them to the insanely obvious dangers of such things as storm chasing-and now this.

And for what? For no other reason than for "a show", according to little Falcon, who is the six year old boy at the center of the controversy. His family falsely reported his aerial descent in a makeshift "invention" of a helium balloon decked out to look like a UFO-or as the sheriff's department in their present Colorado community more aptly described it, a "contraption".

The problem was, the bizarre "invention" was it turns out incapable of lifting off with the boy, who was actually hidden in the rafters of a structure on the families property while his mother and father falsely reported that he was in the device as it buzzed through the atmosphere, setting off a flurry of emergency tracking and rescue efforts and commanding the attention of all the cable news channels for hours on end.

This bunch has a rather sordid history. The father of Falcon and his two brothers has appeared with his wife, the boys mother, on the "reality" television show "Wife Swap", has been in the process of pitching another reality tv show (with no success thus far), allows his children to behave like the little animals they are by nature, and insists that he heard alien voices speaking to him after an episode at a fast food restaurant where he got sick and passed out. He now insists that humans are descendants of intergalactic aliens and much of his life revolves around proving this rather unoriginal and improbable theory that, in the case of he and his family, would seem to be more suggestive of Planet Of The Apes than Battlestar Galactica.

Is it really a surprise that they left their rented home in California owing two thousand dollars after doing several thousand dollars damage to the property?

I have a great idea for a reality show. It involves three little boys going into the Colorado Family Services system, and from there to a foster home where they will be taught the respect and discipline and given the guidance and nurturing they need, while their mother gets intense psychological therapy while being taught not to be such a fucking doormat as to support and enable the childish fantasies of a man who never really grew up to be anything other than a third rate con man who unfortunately seems to believe his own delusions.

As for Richard Heene, his role in my proposed reality series would be that of an inmate in the Colorado, or maybe even the Federal, penal system. While there, perhaps he can invent a technique to shove his little UFO balloon up his ass, which he would soon enough have no problem doing, and where it might come in handy.

Ciao

CNN Jeopardy Fact Check-Wolf Blitzer Is A Stupid Dunce

I started to title this post A Sad Day For Journalism, but as soon as that idea popped into my head, another took its place-it's really par for the course. Here you have a CNN segment featuring a dissection, or a "fact-check", of, of all things, an SNL comedy sketch featuring Fred Armisson as President Obama.

Digest that if you can. A comedy show featuring comedians who by and large are supportive of Obama, eviscerate the President for failing to live up to his promises. Then, a 24 hour cable news network takes the comedy show to task for seeming to unfairly malign the President, pointing out in one instance that he actually did increase troop levels in Afghanistan by two brigades.

In other words, a bunch of left-leaning comedy performers try to hold Obama's feet to the fire for not delivering on his promises, after which CNN seemingly tries to prove their loyalty to Obama by playing the role of Pravda Lite.

And actually, they do this stuff all the time, albeit not to this obviously ridiculous extent. In any event, CNN is a network that has become less and less about investigative journalism, and more about establishing a facade of influence with elitist politicians and policy advocates, actually of both mainstream political parties, but they seem to be particularly enamored of the current administration.

There could be one understandable reason for that. When you experience buyer's remorse, the person you tend to be down on most is the seller. It just so happens to be second nature to snake oil salesmen to stand behind their product, but most of us can easily discern the desperation inherent in any such attempts to cover their asses.

Unfortunately for Wolf Blitzer and for CNN, this segment comes off actually funnier than the original SNL sketch, sickening though it is as well.

Who Wouldn't Pay To See That?

Just a quick observation about a movie I saw the other night on ION Television-The Departed. Watching this rather oddly edited film was quite confusing at first. The first thirty minutes or so seemed horribly rushed, with perhaps a few too many scenes left on the cutting room floor, and perhaps one or two left in the film that should have also been cut. All in all, however, it was a good film, with a compelling plot and story, reasonably believable dialogue and action, and excellent acting.

More to the point, however, it made me realize something about Hollywood actors and their public personas, and especially their stands on issues which seems designed to alienate half of their potential audience. Suddenly, I was gifted with a sudden flash of seeming insight. Maybe there's a hidden agenda to their irritating behavior.

If you get a chance to see The Departed, do so. I promise it will be money and time well spent. Let me put it this way. How often do you get a chance to see Jack Nicholson fall from multiple gun shot wounds, followed in fairly quick succession by Leonardo DeCaprio and Matt Damon getting their brains blown out.

As an extra special treat, you get to witness the satisfying spectacle of Martin Sheen plunging to his death from the top of a six story building to the pavement below. As if that were not enough, in a bit of unintentionally hilarious typecasting, DeCaprio actually bends down and checks his pulse.

Alec Baldwin somehow manages to survive the carnage. Rumor has it he was last seen during this particular period of time making his way for the Canadian border.

You Know, The Omelet Thing

Barak Obama, winner of this year's Nobel Prize. Why not? He deserves one every bit as much as Jimmy Carter. Or Al Gore. Or Yasser Arafat. Winning a Nobel Prize is meaningless anymore. Being nominated for a Nobel Prize has probably always been meaningless. Hell, you can nominate your Aunt Harriet on the grounds she broke up a fight between neighborhood kids once, cooked them brownies and convinced them to make up. All you need is a few people to sign the petition to the nominating committee. Actually winning the damn thing used to have some gravitas. It showed that you actually accomplished something substantial. Now it doesn't matter if what you accomplish is relatively substandard, as long as your heart's in the right place according to Nobel Committee criterion.

Former President and Nobel Peace laureate Theodore Roosevelt, the man who proclaimed the US should "speak softly but carry a big stick", the man who, as ex-President, lambasted then current President Wilson for failing up to that point to enter World War I, would probably not qualify by the standards of today's Nobel Committee. The fact that he mediated the peace talks that ended the Russo-Japanese War would be an incidental detail hardly worth an honorable mention. The man was an obvious war-monger at heart.

Now, Obama is going to face added pressure to not send those extra troops to Afghanistan, and to end the thing as soon as possible-or to neuter our troops to the extent that he might as well end it and get it over with. He certainly seems to be dragging his feet on making the decision to send more troops or not.

Aside from playing good cop to Jimmy "Killer Rabbit" Carter's bad cop over the matter of the supposed racism inherent in the opposition to his policies, and calling Kanye West a jackass for his disruptive behavior during the MTV Video Awards (in what was billed as an "off-the-record" candid remark that was obviously staged), I'm having a hard time coming up with a firm position the man has taken on anything that goes against his party line or his general base of support.

Isn't the Nobel Prize supposed to go to people that actually accomplish something that leads to peace? Since when does a few speeches read from a teleprompter qualify? And why is it that qualifications for winning the prize seem limited to supporting policies that always seem to insure that wars will drag on seemingly forever and with far greater long-term loss of life and destruction of property, and with no apparent end in sight?

I have to wonder if pacifists actually need these wars to drag on, just to have an on-going illustration to point to when they wax poetic about just how awful it all is, and how above it all they all supposedly are.

After all, if somebody actually put their foot down and ended the shit that goes on in the world, by any means necessary, sure it would be bloody and destructive for a while, but in the long term, it might actually bring peace, with less loss of life, less severe injuries, and less destruction of property and infrastructure, and at far less expense. There is a precedent for all that, actually. It's called World War II. Unless of course you honestly believe the world would have been better off had Hitler, Tojo, and Mussolini met with no real opposition. Personally, I don't buy that for a second, just like I don't buy for a second that the firm resolve shown by Reagan against the Soviet Union, which led at least in large part to that evil entities long-overdue collapse, was wrong-headed war-mongering.

History has shown, over and over again, that in the face of provocative actions from a determined and relentless foe, sometimes it becomes imperative to use deadly force, and more often than not, to continue until the enemy's will is broken, his resources are exhausted, and his country is subdued. An advancing and determined enemy never sues for peace, nor will he until he is finally broken and beaten.

But alas, too much of that, and it wouldn't be long before Aunt Harriet would be a top contender.

Not Such A Laughing Matter

Now there's word out that Stephanie Birkitt, a former Daivd Letterman staffer with whom the Late Night host has apparently been carrying on a fling for some time, has written a slew of saucy letters, as of now not yet sent, which might contain salacious details of the affair between her and her boss.

These, along with an alleged diary, might well be the letters alluded to in the blackmail plot by former CBS "award winning producer" Joe Haldermann, who demanded two million dollars in order that he keep secret his knowledge of this affair-and perhaps a good many others.

Haldermann has plead not guilty to the charge of attempted grand larceny. I can almost guess at his defense. "Hey, I just told him I could make three million off these things if I took them to the Enquirer, I was just being a nice guy by helping him and me out."

And, who knows? It might work. Of course, he's got one legal hurdle to cross. According to this report, Haldermann cared far more about hurting Letterman than he cared about the money. He was jealous of Letterman's relationship with Birkitt, which evidently was on-going well after she and Haldermann broke up. But, seeing as how Haldermann had his own slate of financial problems, I'm sure the money came in a close second, at least.

Haldermann, however you read him, may not be in as much trouble as Letterman, all things considered. This is all out in the open now. Or is it? There have been others besides Birkitt. A lot more. Most of them are younger women, and junior staffers on Letterman's program. He was their boss.

Thus, the man who skewered Bill Clinton, Elliot Spitzer, and Gary Hart for the same kind of behavior now at the very least looks like an unbounded hypocrite. But this is the least of his potential problems.

This could open up a veritable floodgate or sexual harassment charges, and even potentially rape. Although much less likely, it is possible that child molestation charges might be filed if any of the older women Dave had affairs with (there was at least one who was close to his age)had younger teenage daughters he might have had contact with.

Look for Stephanie Birkitt's letters to eventually find their way into the domain of the tabloid press, probably after the inevitable judicial gag rules have served their purpose.

It's going to be one embarassing mess after another. Look for some wag to come out with a "Letterman's Top Ten" list.

The man is sixty-one years old. Letterman can joke about this now, but the joke is going to leave a bad taste eventually, one that will never completely go away. Maybe it's time for him to just ride off into the sunset.

Dark And Bloody Grounds

I have been following with interest the recent charges leveled against former Kentucky Republican state legislator and failed candidate for Governor of Kentucky Steve Nunn, the son of Louie B. Nunn, the former Kentucky GOP Governor from 1968 to 1972.

It is perhaps the most unlikely political story of the century, a story in which politics is of almost a peripheral interest. For it is a story of violence and murder, with a real possibility of the apparent perpetrator, Nunn himself, receiving the death penalty due to the special circumstances involved in the case, in the increasingly probable event that he is ultimately convicted of the crime of the murder of Amanda Ross, his former fiancee.

Nunn was not some ill-fated, lackluster son whose accident of birth placed him in a family that held a social prominence for which he was ill-suited to inherit. He was a successful politician in his own right, occupying a seat in the Kentucky General Assembly for fifteen years.

Nor was he some mere backbencher holding down a seat by virtue of family position that should have gone to a more meritorious office-holder. No, Steve Nunn was, like his father before him, a uniquely qualified and seemingly dedicated public servant who earned the respect of both parties, a man able to work with both sides in order to achieve policy goals and enact legislation, a man to whom compromise and "reaching across the aisle" was indeed a kind of second nature.

This reality was aptly demonstrated when, after losing his bid for re-election to his seat in the General Assembly closely after losing a primary bid to run as the GOP candidate for Governor in 2007, he was appointed Deputy Secretary of the Cabinet For Health and Human Services by the ultimately victorious Democratic candidate, Steve Beshear.

Ironically, one of the things the Cabinet is responsible for is oversight of the investigations and prosecutions of domestic violence cases, a phenomenon for which Steve Nunn turned out to be uniquely qualified in an unfortunate way. His girlfriend, Amanda Ross, took out a restraining order on Nunn specifically on the grounds of domestic violence, claiming that Nunn struck her a number of times-four times, to be exact, a number which, as we shall see, will take on a somber significance. She also accused him of verbally abusing her, and physically assaulting even her property.

(Steve Nunn with Amanda Ross in a facade of seemingly happier times)

Following an investigation, Nunn was placed on administrative leave, later resigning his cabinet post. It was the beginning of the end of what might at one time have been a promising career. Some months later-specifically, of all days, on September 11th, 2009-Steve Nunn allegedly shot his former fiancee four times in a parking lot outside her home, and then fled the scene, leaving her to die of her wounds.

Several hours following the assault, Steve Nunn was apprehended at the Barron County grave site of his parents, the former Governor and his ex-wife Beulah, where, brandishing a gun, presumably the one used to kill Ross, he fired into the air at the approach of police, and then fell to the ground. Upon reaching him, the police discovered that Steve Nunn had slashed his wrists. He was taken into custody and, following a brief stay in the hospital where he recovered sufficiently from his self-inflicted wounds, he was charged with violating the terms of the protective order placed against him at the behest of Miss Ross. In due course, within a few short weeks, he was ultimately charged with her murder.

There are some who claim that it was not a one-sided story, and Nunn's attorney even floated the idea that the relationship of Nunn to Ross, a woman many claim used her relationship with Nunn to further her own career, was a relationship that involved abuse perpetrated by and against both parties towards each other. This charge raised the ire of many feminists, who object to these charges on the grounds that Miss Ross is no longer here to defend herself from any further abuse, even if she does speak from beyond the grave concerning the matter of Nunn's past abuse.

(Amanda Ross)

Nunn is still here, but his defense, such as it is, grows more shallow than the unmarked grave he might well in hindsight wish he had dug for Miss Ross out in the wilds of Barron County. In fact, this is not the first time he has been accused of abusive actions towards those with whom he has had relationships, such as his two previous wives and children. Although these charges are, for the most part, anecdotal thus far, there is one bit of compelling evidence that might form yet another notch in the rope that hangs the hapless former politician, from the words of none other than Nunn's own father, the former Governor. For Louie B Nunn himself accused Steve Nunn, his son from whom he was at the time estranged, of abusive behavior towards him and his family.

“I am too old and disabled to fight with you physically, even if I desired to do so,” Louie Nunn wrote in his letter. “The mental anguish with you physically attacking me is more than I need. I do not want it on my conscience or my record of having to hurt my own son — physically or mentality (sic).

“Therefore, I respectfully request you never attack me physically again. Neither do I intend to take anymore verbal abuse from you.”

He threatened his son with criminal charges if he assaulted him again and added that “this will necessitate my bringing into court your sister, your children and your former wife, all of whom you have abused.”

The charge stems from an affidavit filed by Nunn during the course of his contentious divorce from his wife Beulah, Steve's mother.

Later on, Louie Nunn and son Steve were reconciled, and the former Governor even ran his son's unsuccessful primary contest for Governor of Kentucky. But that will be little help to Steve once the case goes to trial. There is much reason to believe that Louie Nunn was himself abusive towards his children, and even his wife Beulah, which in fact is said to be part of the reason for the divorce of the two.

Like father, like son. Only Louie Nunn never murdered anyone, so far as we know.

The special circumstances of this particular murder, particularly those involving Steve Nunn's violation of the protective order against him, might well bring about an eventual death sentence.

It is remarkable to ponder how much different things might have been, but for one fateful decision made during the Presidential election campaign of 1968, when GOP candidate Richard Nixon, desirous of a running mate from among the border state governors, asked recently elected Kentucky Governor Louie B. Nunn to be his running mate. Nunn declined, on the grounds that, as the first Republican Governor of the state of Kentucky since 1943, his friends in the Kentucky Republican Party would never forgive him were he to so abandon them. Nixon reluctantly chose instead another border state governor, Spiro Agnew of Maryland.

Had the scrupulously ethical (at least politically, by known comparison to Agnew) accepted the offer, he would have almost undoubtedly become President in 1974, assuming everything else proceeded as recorded by history. Had he chosen to run for the nomination in his own right, he might well have split the party, not having the influence of Gerald Ford at the national level, and even if he won the nomination (he probably would not have) Carter would have almost certainly won, as he won against Ford, and as he almost certainly would have won, in that despairing year, even against Ronald Reagan.

Would it have changed his life? Would it have changed the life of Steve Nunn, to be a member, if only briefly, of the nation's first family?

(Governor Louie B. Nunn at far right, with Dave Thomas(?), Colonel Harlan Sanders, and Senator John Sherman Cooper.)

I seriously doubt it, and that's the scariest part of this.

The Nunn family, both Louie and his brother-both lifelong friends of Nixon-as well as Steve, are a family which is almost the closest thing Kentucky has to a political dynasty. They built their political capital on the necessity of compromise, of reaching across the aisle, of finding common cause, of uniting for the "greater good"-they reek of the magic of bi-partisanship.

They are not dyed-in-the-wool conservative Republicans, they are moderates. They are called by a number of names, most of them derisive. They are RINOs. They are Country Club Republicans.

If Blue Dog Democrats are little better than fellow travelers of the Stalinist left of the controlling, liberal wing of the national Democratic Party, moderate Democrats like Steve Nunn, and his father Louie, are something even worse, something even arguably more malignant. They are, in fact, the useful idiots who make it possible to enact the ever-growing cancer of big government, secure in the knowledge that it's growth and entitlement will secure them a place at the conference table.

These then are the people who want power over us all. These then are the people to whom many of us would entrust our futures, and our hopes. No, they are not all killers. No, they are not all violent abusers. They are not all even thieves, arguably. Some of them are, we would hope, men and women of apparent honesty and integrity. They are all people, just like us, and they run the gamut from good, to bad, to abominable.

Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it-and then some.

The inauguration of Kentucky Governor Louie B. Nunn, 1968

The Night Chicago Died

Chicago's humiliating loss in the first round, coming in dead last of the four finalists-behind Tokyo, Madrid, and the eventual winner, Rio de Janiero-came as a shock to me, not being one who keeps up on the ins and outs of all the various political wrangling that goes on every four years with the Olympics. I figured, well, Michelle went to Copenhagen to lay on the charm and will spend her time softening the International Olympic Committee members up, so now it's up to Barak to make an appearance and seal the deal. That deal would have probably involved potentially hundreds of millions of dollars in contracts doled out to various construction and other companies, much of which would make it back into the pockets of some of Barak's various assorted Chicago political allies and cronies. I won't hazard a guess as to what he might have promised any of the individual members. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall, until I started making myself sick thinking about all the shit I would have ended up gorging on.

Then there's Obama. What would he have gotten out of it, other than an opportunity to add some by now much needed political capital such a success would entail, along with the chance to reward old friends and allies and endear himself to newer ones? I would almost bet they pressured him into making the trip and the sales pitch, frankly. But there is one more thing to consider.

It occurred to me that 2016, the year of the games in question, will be Obama's last year in office if he is re-elected. The games held in his home city, possibly with him giving a welcoming speech and possibly even appearing prominently throughout the games, might be an attractive prospect to him, a way for him to showcase what he imagines might be the new America that he has fostered and developed, and to appear as the new "founding father" of a fairer, more just nation, the new envy of an admiring world community.

Note how I am going out of my way to avoid comparing the prospect of Obama appearing at the Chicago games to Hitler appearing at the 1936 Berlin games in an attempt to showcase what he proclaimed the "master race" of which he was the implicit grand champion.

Well, no I didn't avoid it, did I? Shit.

Had Chicago been awarded the games, however, I have a strong idea there would have been no Jesse Owens moments to raise Obama's ire in the face of an unexpected upset and embarrassing defeat. To the contrary, Obama might have been conspicuous by his absence, depending on his state of denial by the time that year rolls around. The nation might have been spared a great deal of embarrassment at any rate. And of course we will all be spared the predictable montage of Olympic athletes in various Chicago settings with Sinatra's Chicago playing in the background.

All of these are good enough reasons feel some relief that the games will not be played here, but the question remains, why did Chicago miss out?

Some claim it is because of the violent nature of the city, and many point out the recent savage beating death of a young honor student by gang-bangers.

This is overlooking the fact that Rio, the victorious city, has a reputation as one of the most violent and crime-ridden cities in the world. From the report just two years ago-

It is no secret that Rio is crime-ridden and quite violent, and becoming more so: the heavily-armed gangs that control the hillside squatter slums known as favelas are growing increasingly bolder in their assaults and threats, even in the city’s most elite neighborhoods.

Perhaps a better explanation might be the antagonism that exists between the International Olympic Committee and its member American Olympic Committee. There has been bad blood between the two for years, for a variety of reasons, a great deal of which seems to involve disputes over media coverage and advertising revenue.

The report linked above, in fact, suggests that, due to this, Chicago never really had a shot to begin with.

There might be a more important and compelling reason that this, however. It seems that, according to one Chicago group who actually traveled to Copenhagen to lobby for the games to NOT be in Chicago-the majority of people there did not want the games. In fact, the numbers cited is something like 84% of the city's population who either did not want the games at all, under any circumstances, or who did not want public, taxpayer funds to be spent on the Olympics.

I won't pretend to know just how much of a factor the groups lobbying efforts against their own city was, but it is at least an attempt at democracy in action. I do have to wonder if it might ever occur to Obama, or to anybody, just how out of touch he is with such a large majority of the people in his own home city.

I seriously doubt that he is that clueless-he just doesn't care, or perhaps more to the point he has other concerns-other, let us say, obligations. If he's not careful, by the time 2016 rolls around, that might well be not the fringe perception of him, but the all too common one. And it just might become his political epitaph.

Dark And Bloody Ground

There is certainly no lack of conspiracy theories concerning the apparent (read-obvious) murder of US Census employee William Sparkman in Clay County Kentucky. Many folks on the "right" are blaming ACORN supporters for the death of Sparkman, while those on the "left" are blaming conservative talk radio and the tea party movement.

I almost definitely think we can discount any connections to ACORN (I mean, come on-really-this is rural southeastern Kentucky were talking about here), and as for the seemingly boundless authority granted by liberals to folks such as Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck over the actions of disgruntled southern conservatives, I think we can pretty safely discount their impact as well.

Lost in all the speculation and the finger pointing going on amidst the fringe elements and activists is the fact that Clay County, Kentucky, where the murder occurred, is not so much a hotbed of conservative political activism as it is a seeming haven for marijuana growers and methamphetamine production. Furthermore, the most obvious political connotations to Clay County these days isn't how people feel about Barak Obama and the Democratic Party so much as which public officials have been charged, or investigated, for public corruption. At last count, eight public officials have been charged with vote-buying, and/or vote rigging, following a federal probe.

Due to all of these factors, Clay County might not be the best place for one hapless census worker to go sojourning about the sparsely populated area of the Daniel Boone National Forrest with ID identifying him as a US census worker asking what might be considered nosy questions about who lives where and what they do for a living.

When Sparkman's naked body was found hanged from a tree in the forest, the only clue left that it was not a suicide was the word "FED" scrawled across his chest. It was obviously a murder, and not a suicide or, as the Kentucky State Police laughably proposed, an "accident". What then was it?

It would seem at first glance to be the work of more than one perpetrator, as Sparkman seems to have never put up a fight, so far as has been ascertained thus far.

One would think that somebody involved in the drug trade would not be so stupid as to risk the wrath of the Federal government swarming through the area and turning it upside down for clues. One would be hard-pressed to think that any of the more corrupt county officials would likewise be so inclined, especially since they would have been aware of Sparkman's position with the government and therefore that he was no real threat to anyone.

So what exactly is going on here?

My own feeling, although I can't prove it, is that this is a Ku Klux Klan related murder. On the other hand, it might be something wholly unconnected to Sparkman's position. It might even be connected to Sparkman's position as a school teacher, or a Boy Scout leader. The word "Fed" might have been an intentional diversion.

The true nature of the crime, depending on who committed it and why, may never be fully ascertained. But it would behoove all of either political affiliation to resist the urge to look at everything with the tunnel vision that results from looking through the political prisms that seem to encompass the entirety of their existence.

UPDATE: I have recently been informed by Lemuel Calhoun, who owns the blog Hillbilly White Trash, and who as a licensed private investigator has connections with various law enforcement agencies, about the true nature of the Kentucky State Police assertion that Sparkman's death might have been an accident. It seems that there may be a slight possibility that Sparkman's demise came about due to the phenomenon of "erotic asphyxiation".

This in fact makes the KSP statement comprehensible, and even provides a possible example of my statement that the word "Fed" written on his naked chest might have been an intentional diversion. The KSP unfortunately neglected to enlighten the public with this explanation in the face of what seemed on the face of it like a ridiculously ludicrous suggestion, but this is possibly a well-meaning attempt to avoid embarrassing Sparkman's family if at all possible. It might also be a way to avoid giving out too much information during the course of the on-going investigation.

It also makes me wonder whether or not Sparkman might have been lured to the area and intentionally murdered precisely by way of this method. After all, he was naked, and in point of fact, although I was previously unaware of it, his feet were on the ground when his corpse was discovered, despite the fact he was apparently hung from a tree. Could this hanging have even been a postmortem attempt to cover up the true nature of the murder-or accidental death-and the reasons for it?

Also lost or seemingly overlooked is whether or not Sparkman was actually working during the time of his death. His murder was discovered after co-workers expressed concern over his failure to report for work for a couple of days. It would seem apparent that a census worker would report to the office at the end of the day. Did no one notice his absence then? Was Sparkman even working during the time of his death?

Sparkman was a Scout Leader, and a part-time teacher aiming for a full-time position. This makes me wonder whether his murder came about due to other activities involving these aspects of his life, perhaps of a sexual nature.

Lem also pointed out to me, in response to my statement that a drug ring would be wary of the risks involved in the murder of a federal employee, that they might have felt they had nothing to lose. He also pointed out that the Ku Klux Klan has been known in some instances to engage in drug trafficking to finance its operations.

I was of course aware of this, nor do I take very seriously the statements of the various Klan chapters to be law-abiding Christians who do not engage in such activities. There are in fact more than one "Ku Klux Klan" in our modern era. If one of them was involved, it would remain to ferret out the group responsible for the crime, if any was.

Until such time, it is all rank speculation, of course, but it is something that does need to be carefully considered. There are of course more than one Klan group operating in Kentucky. There are at least three, chief among them probably being the Imperial Klans Of America, a group which has recently been sued by the Southern Poverty Law Center on behalf of a young boy beaten by some of the groups adherents at a music festival here in Kentucky.

Whatever the case, whether or not any Klan or any other hate group was involved, I find it highly unlikely to have been drug related, unless Sparkman just happened upon something he should not have seen.

Why I Believe MacKenzie Phillips

MacKenzie Phillip's public confessions of a ten year affair with her father, John Phillips of the sixties rock vocal group The Mamas And The Papas, while it makes for a compelling story, is nowhere near as interesting as the public reaction to it. Naturally, a good many people seem to insist that it is nothing but a way to promote her auto-biography High On Arrival at the expense of her father, now dead and unable to defend himself. A good many others say she is a deluded addict, and even if the story is partially true, she should just shut up about it.

Interestingly, I have an idea that many people among the latter category would be the first people clamoring to sue anybody that might be remotely viewed as a potential collaborator or enabler of Phillips abuse, were he not a founding member of a much-loved, celebrated, seminal musical group and a pop culture icon from the sixties.

Michelle Phillips, for her part, along with John Phillips third wife, insist that John Phillips, while a drug addict and a bad father, would never stoop so low, and so they lead the chorus of those who insist that MacKenzie Phillips is either lying or deeply disturbed.

Of course, there is a lot on the line here, as many people might be led to wonder just what and how much Michelle knew about certain events during her marriage to John. She also plainly wants to protect her image, and the image of her old group.

Yet, the facts of the lives of the people involved don't just suggest, they scream that this was a highly dysfunctional group of people. During the groups heyday, John Phillips was a notorious drug addict, oftentimes stoned to the gills while making public appearances. In the meantime, Michelle herself engaged in an adulterous relationship with the groups lead singer, Dennis Doherty, which got her briefly fired from the band. Interesting, Doherty was not fired. Michelle was brought back later into the group, which even recorded a song on the groups fourth album chronicling the affair, while Doherty himself continued in a hopeless infatuation for Michelle.

Before long, the group disbanded for good, after releasing a final fifth album for their recording company, Dunhill, which Michelle later stated "sounded like what it was-an attempt by four people to avoid a lawsuit."

So what does this all have to do with an alleged incestuous affair that supposedly happened some six years or so after the group disbanded? Well, nothing, except for the one continuous thread which rears it's ugly head throughout every second of the groups history-John Phillips addiction to hard drugs, which seems to have been the catalyst for every one of the events listed above.

Frankly, knowing everything I have learned about the man, I would be surprised if it did not happen, but even that is almost beside the point.

One of the main criticisms of MacKenzie is that she waited until years after Phillips death to come out with the story, therefore this is nothing but a sordid way to make money promoting her book.

Which, I guess that would be a point, but how does that explain her accusations of Mick Jagger seducing her at a party when she was fourteen (according to some stories, according to other accounts I've since read, she was eighteen) and claiming he had been waiting for the opportunity since she was ten years old?

Apparently, John had taken MacKenzie to a party at an apartment complex, where Mick invited them up to his apartment, claiming he wanted a tuna sandwich. He then noted how he was out of mayonnaise, and requested John go back downstairs and retrieve some, which Phillips obligingly did, thus leaving Jagger and MacKenzie alone for a "few minutes". When John returned, the door was locked.

Or so goes the story, a story which, thus far, has been met with a deafening silence from "Sir Mick Jagger", with not so much as a public statement released through his publicity firm.

The fact that she states that the relationship with her father became consensual, and went on for ten years (until she became pregnant and feared the child might have belonged to her father) seems to have put off more people than the story of the night of the rape, which occurred on her wedding night when, at the age of nineteen, she claims to have awoke from a drug induced blackout to discover her father having sex with her.

Almost lost in all of this mess is the outrage over her assertion that John Phillips began shooting her up with cocaine when she was ten years old. As far as I'm concerned, that incident, if true, was the pivotal moment of MacKenzie Phillips life, the moment when she was taken into a dark place from which, for most, there would be no hope of return. Everything else that followed, as bad, as disgusting, as heinous, as it all was and is-was nothing but a macabre window dressing into a view of a shattered, nightmarish life of living hell.

Sure, she's trying to sell a book. Does that mean she's lying, or greatly exaggerating? Only to those who think there can only be one reason for anything a person does.

Michelle Phillips should take heart. By the time this is all over with, despite all the howls of disgust from the public, I have an idea the Mommas And The Poppas will displace Michael Jackson at the top of the charts.

Like Jim Morrison once said-people are strange.

MacKenzie And John Phillips-New Mamas And Poppas

That's where you want to go to get away from it all.

Roman Polanski-Wanted And Detained

Roman Polanski, the Polsih film director responsible for such movies as The Pianist, Rosemary's Baby, MacBeth, and The China Syndrome, and who was himself the subject of a recent documentary, Wanted And Desired, has been arrested on an old US warrant-in Switzerland, of all places. Polanski was due to appear at the Zurich Film Festival to attend a retrospective of his work and receive a Lifetime Achievement Award. Instead, he had no sooner crossed the border when he was detained by the Swiss authorities.

This is bad-I mean real bad. I've been hearing for months about how Obama's supporters have tried to create a cult of personality around our current President, and they've even encouraged US schoolchildren to sing his praises. But who among even his most vociferous detractors would have ever dreamed that he would be elevated to the status of Pope?

It's even worse than that, though. At least the Swiss Guards are not, so far as I know, an official arm of the Swiss government. Now, it would seem that the most admirably independent nation of Europe is just another European nation. But it's not even that good. Hell, so far as I know, no other country, including France, where Polanski has lived for decades, has ever lifted a hand to honor the US warrant. Now, Switzerland, the one country that has for centuries maintained a fierce stance of political non-alignment in the affairs of foreign nations, does this?

The festival itself is in somewhat of an uproar over this, but has maintained that it will continue with the scheduled retrospective of Polanski's work.

As for Polanski himself, I have mixed feelings. The man broke the law, and then fled before his sentence was imposed following what he alleged was a plea deal which he claims the judge reneged on. He has unsuccessfully appealed to have his conviction overturned on those grounds. All things considered, it looks like he might well now spend the rest of his life behind bars. Remember, he now faces time on two charges-for the initial statutory rape of a thirteen year old girl with whom he alegedly seduced at the home of actor Jack Nicholson, and now an evident slam dunk case of fleeing the US to avoid sentencing.

He probably deserves what he's got coming on both charges, and I'm sure he'll get the max. There will probably be a round of appeals of course, bolstered by some in the Hollywood community and others who will lobby on his behalf, but it looks pretty grim for the Polish born director. Obama would not dare commute his sentence, unless it was as a good fuck you to the conservative movement in the event he is defeated for re-election in 2012. By 2016, in the event Obama wins re-election, Polanski, if still alive, will be too old, and feeble, to care, if he even by then knows who, or where, he is.

It would be really ironic were he to end up in the same prison as Charles Manson.

Mabon Music Video-Creature From The Black Leather Lagoon by The Cramps

Happy Mabon

Persephone

First off, I'd like to thank Rufus for turning me on to the Cramps, which led me to the video I posted above as the opening video for this Mabon. It fits-somewhat-in the context of the above picture, which is of the Greek Goddess Persephone, who is now departing for her tenure in the Underworld as the coerced bride of Hades, who abducted her as a young maiden and tricked her into bonding with him by causing her to drink from the waters of the Underworld. Or at least I think we can all agree that the Autumn Equinox, which marks the time when the days start getting progressively shorter than the nights, is the time when she begins preparing for that journey, accompanied by the God Hermes, who will likewise go to retrieve her from the Underworld at the Vernal Equinox, in what was a desperate kind of compromised arrived at between Zeus and Hades in order to prevent Persephone's mother Demeter from sending the entire earth into a state of permanent famine and despair.

The myth was an agricultural one, but it very cleverly and powerfully makes use of a very common phenomenon of ancient times, that of young children-babies, adolescents, and teenagers-dying well before their parents. One would be hard pressed to find a family which did not experience at least one such death.

This myth, I believe, gave some degree of meaning and comfort to these families, and even, possibly, gave them hope, and helped them pull together as a part of a larger community-a family who pulled together.

Seen in the larger context of the "death" of fertility, it made it easier to find such hope in the symbolic imagery of a return to life in the spring, and to take comfort in what remains.

The Magical Fire Cairn

Okay, granted, this isn't exactly a burning cairn, it is actually-well, supposedly-a bonfire. I chose this to illustrate this post not because it's the best picture I could find to represent the subject of this post, but for no other reason than it has, if you will notice, a vaguely human figure.

Since Hermes is the god most often associated with cairns, I decided to include this little magical ritual quite on the spur of the moment. Cairns of course are not fire, they are semi-permanent structures made basically of stone. They were evidently meant to mark a passage, as a landmark. Some insist they are meant to grant fertility to the land on which they are placed. No one really knows for sure, or for that matter whether they were originally associated with Hermes, although cairns, and "Hermes Areias" (Lord Hermes) date back to the Mycenaean era.

Here is a more or less modern version-



The object of the ritual is a simple one, although of course it requires you to live in an area where it is acceptable to engage in outdoor burning. You will need a large wire or some type of mesh basket in order to achieve the effect you need, and of course-paper, and boxes, etc., and lots of it.

The idea is to visualize the magical goal, and raise sufficient energy to transfer to the materials. You then release the energy by ritually burning them. The wire basket should contain everything within a confined parameter, but you need to stay close by just in case a sudden wind blows. It shouldn't be a problem really unless you have your magical cairn sitting too close to a flammable object-such as a house, for example. Caution is advised.

As you watch the burning, continue visualizing your magical goal. In my case, I burned an old book I started writing years ago on notebook paper by hand, and visualized a fresh, new start, with no more wasted effort and energy. Once released into the elements, the energy should return to me and give me a new outlook, a refreshed sense of purpose and vigor. Well, here's hoping.

On The Road Again

This music video by Canned Heat (or a couple of others), was originally going to be the opening music video of this Sabbat series before I settled on the one you may have viewed above this one-or will view, depending on what time you come here. I included this one anyway, as it fits somewhat with the aspect of Hermes as a god of messengers and travelers. The particular brand of traveler has more than sight-seeing in mind. This is a restless spirit, looking for meaning in life, and engaged in an odyssey of hope and self-discovery.

Hermes as the guide of travelers is also charged with the task of accompanying the spirits of dead mortals to the underworld, and potentially, vice versa. Of course, as mentioned previously, he accompanies Persephone to and from her stay in said Underworld as the Queen of Lord Hades.

A Football Tragedy

I wanted to say something about a tragedy that occurred at a Kentucky high school football practice that resulted in the death of a young player from heat stroke. The coach was tried, and eventually acquitted, but something good did come out of the mess. New rules were instituted which required training for coaches to recognize potential problems before they get too out of hand.

Football is too great a sport to allow it to be tarnished with such wholly unnecessary tragedies. Hopefully, school officials at both the high school and college level will follow this up with a realization that a player's health has to take precedence over the prospect of winning and losing games. They are as much to fault as the coaches whom they put inordinate pressure on to produce a winning season.

Football is one of those games that, had the ancient Greeks known of it, they would have gone wild over it, though I doubt they would have bothered with all the protective gear worn today. Hermes would doubtless have been the patron deity of the sport, and it would have been considered his purview as to whether any died during the course of a game, or during practice. Many people might have died from the battering they received at the hands of other players, but one thing I can pretty much promise is, no one would have died from heat stroke.

Such things as that, in our modern era, are simply inexcusable, in the vast majority of cases.

I always liked this type of ancient Greek vase art, more so than the traditional classical sculptures.



This is Hermes at all of a day old stealing the cattle of Apollo in one of those don't do as I do, do as I say moments so typical of the Greek deities, even though Hermes came to be viewed as the patron of thieves. He was not celebrating the Equinox, I'm sure, though it can be seen as such. I thought it was appropriate to post this due to the nature of how he attempted to avoid detection-by walking backwards in what turned out to be a lame attempt to lure Apollo in the opposite direction. The only thing missing from the scenario was Hermes hiding under a blanket in the middle of the room and thinking there was no possible way Apollo could see him when he, in fact, found him pretty quickly. I would imagine the presence of the cattle might have settled it.

I mention this because, as Hermes was traditionally associated with the planet Mercury by many (the Roman god Mercury certainly was, but be advised that not all the Roman priest hierarchy agreed that Hermes and Mercury were identical), this might have been a myth intended to explain the purpose behind the frequent retrograde motions of the planet. This is especially noteworthy as there are four such retrograde periods this year-there is generally but three.

Could this signify an unusual type of financial or other reversal at the end of the year. We'll see.

The most enjoyable break from the housework over the last few days involved the premiere of the sixth season of House. Since I, maddeningly, could not find a decent YouTube clip from the debut episode which aired Monday night, I decided what better way to lighten the mood than with this brilliant parody from Mad TV. The only problem with it-where the fuck is Wilson?

Mabon Apple Pie

Since Mabon is traditionally seen as the time of the second harvest, what better way to celebrate than with that old popular all-American standby, apple pie? Of course, you don't have to have American blood to appreciate this classic dessert, so long as you have taste buds.



2 store-bought frozen pie shells, thawed.
6 Granny Smith Apples, washed, peeled, and sliced into roughly eight equal sized segments
6 heaping tablespoons granulated sugar
3 rounded tablespoons self-rising flour
cinnamon to taste (optional)

Mix ingredients in a large bowl and allow to sit for at least one hour, preferably two, in order to allow a thick syrup to form. Separate the pie shells, pouring the apple mixture into one, then using the other to form the covering, which you can do in strips as pictured above, or simply spread whole over the top. If you choose the latter, easier method (which is what I do) you will need to make slits in the top crust with a knife. You should also miniscule holes, using a fork, on the sides and bottom of the bottom crust.

Set on a baking pan in an oven pre-heated to 400 degrees. Ovens will vary, but it should be done in approximately 40-45 minutes. Well worth the little effort it takes.

Spin-Short Film For Mabon

Okay, it doesn't have much of anything at all to do with Mabon on the face of it, but seeing as to the nature of Mercury Retrograde which falls during this period, with an inferior conjunction of Mercury and the Sun practically falling exactly during the Autumn Equinox, it does seem to fit somewhat.

Makes for a pretty cool image concept for Hermes, too, even if that was obviously not the filmmaker's intention.

Mabon Astrological Aspects

The astrological aspects for Mabon are pretty intense. Seeing as how there is or was an inferior conjunction of the Sun to Mercury, this might not have been the best time to paint my bedroom. What a bitch. Worse than the living room. Oh well.

Retrograde Mercury is supposed to cause problems, particularly with transportation and communication, with machine malfunctions, etc., none of that happened-well, any more than usual.

In fact, during this period, I think I managed to work out the problems I've been having with my internet service, without actually calling and ranting and making a generally obnoxious ass of myself. I just figured out I need to wait until I turn my computer and monitor on, after I plug in the phone line, before I then plug in and if necessary reset the modem. Then I log on. So far, problems have been minimal.

Maybe Mercury Retrograde just has a bad rap. Maybe it's actually an opportune period to address problems such as that, not avoid them. Or, maybe it means nothing at all.

Otherwise, Saturn is still floating around Virgo in a near direct opposition to Uranus and Pisces, which is compounded further by the fact that Uranus is retrograde. This aspect might best be construed as a need for an extra bit of caution and patience, more so than usual to avoid even greater setbacks in the way of progress. I sure felt that over the last few days.

Neptune has been an assist, being in the off-centered trine to the Sun that it now is-it's retrograde motion though possibly serving to make me wonder if all this hard work is really going to be worth it in the long run. Jupiter retrograde in conjunction with Neptune might well serve to heighten that angst, while adding a little bit of spite into the mix, of the "By God I will get this done" variety. Or, that could be the Mars in Cancer trine to Uranus in Pisces ranting, which would be a considerable influence, especially today when the Moon forms a Grand Trine with the pair.

But ah, Pluto, where art thou? A good solid three signs away from the Sun, a square, which thus gives us the opportunity to concentrate on lessening all the negativities accumulated over the course of the year. It's not been easy though by any means.

Maybe the fact that Venus in the first degree of Virgo is trine Pluto, the combination with the aformentioned Sun square Pluto indicating a need and propensity for sexual release. It's times like this I'm glad this isn't a family oriuented blog, otherwise I wouldn't be able to tell you to go out and get fucked.

The Second Harvest

As a matter of course, the idea of attuning with your power animal is to take it's strength and power inside of you and make it your own-not the other way around.

Nine of Swords

WTF kind of thing is this to draw for a Sabbat? The Nine of Swords signifies an unreasoning fear, a feeling of dread, a sense of impending doom, agonizing over problems that might well be self-created in the first place, and exaggerated in the second. Sometimes I think these cards are more appropriate for my own personal use than they are for general reading on my blog, but I see where they can work both ways.

There are a lot of unreasoning fears out there in a general sense, some of which are certainly based on well-founded concerns, but might be nonetheless exaggerated.

Take Global Warming for instance. Note how when the trickster god of the North Wind started following Al Gore seemingly every place he went, it didn't take too long for people to say, "okay, now hold on here." Suddenly, you rarely hear the words Global Warming uttered. It's now "Global Climate Change."

And it is a real concern. The melting ice releases more moisture into the atmosphere, which in turn might influence the climate in a myriad of ways, depending on the individual locale. I get all that. The question remains, to what degree is manking responsible for this? What, regardless of the answer to that question, can we do about it? Finally, can we do anything about it. SHOULD we do anything about it?

Of course, that is just one of the many agonizing concerns afflicting mankind. There is poverty, health care, the overall state of the economy, global political instability and terrorism.

How much of these concerns are self-created? How many of them are exaggerated for political purposes? Will things eventually resolve themselves of their own accord, over time? Can we afford to wait that long? If we try to change them, what is the best way to go about that? Will we-are we-in many cases only making matters worse?

A good clue might be a study of history. It seems like one decades fears becomes almost a footnote two or three decades down the line. Most people don't spend a lot of time worrying about the Nazi or communist menace, while slavery and Jim Crow seem almost like something that happened on another dimensional plane of existence.

In other words, nothing stays the same for very long. It's commendable to express concern and to work for positive change, but it might be counterproductive to get hysterical about it.

Mabon-What Mabon?

Well, another late series of posts for the Sabbats, but they do keep me hopping, and this one is no exception. Especially since I've taken it on myself to engage in a number of household chores that I've been putting off for far too long-like painting the house, among other things. Bedroom walls, check. Living room walls, check. Then I got the ceilings, doors, door frames, and baseboards to contend with. Then I can feel like I'm about half way done with everything I want to do.

The whole point being, I want this shit out of the way so I can have the time to devote to working on my novel. Make that novels. I have a different idea every day it seems. I still haven't gotten around to doing the rewrite for Radu, the first draft of which I published on this blog some time ago. What thought I give to it now is mainly concerning who will play the lead roles if it is ever made into a feature film of a Showtime or HBO miniseries.

I've settled so far on either Katie Holmes or Thora Birch to play the lead female role, but I'm stumped on the others.

But soon I shall face up to my coming long winter of discontent by actually getting around to hopefully finishing the damn thing first, once I can manage the time without having to worry about spring cleaning being such a bitch.

Anyway, Happy belated Mabon.

Brer Killer Rabbit And The Tar Baby

Once upon a time Brer Fox and Brer Bear went to build a likeness of Uncle Bama out of tar and turpentine, but they only had enough to make an image of a young black child.

"This might work even better," Brer Fox said. "Just wait till Brer Killer Rabbit sees this here tar baby. He'll just have to pick him up and hug him and cuddle him and fondle him and he'll get all stuck, and then we can laugh at him."

"We do that all the time anyway though", Brer Bear replied. "But okay, let's hide and wait. When we catch him can we eat him?"

Before Brer Fox could answer with disgust at the thought of eating something so loathsome, Brer Killer Rabbit came hopping along on his way to Uncle Bamas little White House where he planned to bow and kiss Uncle Bama's feet and ass. When he saw the little tar baby with the face of Uncle Bama he was delighted.

"You look like our beloved divine Uncle Bama" said Brer Killer Rabbit.

"You should not be out here by yourself, though," he suddenly added with mounting concern. "There are racists which abound throughout this land. Why, did you not know that almost every white person who does not love and honor Uncle Bama does so because they are racial bigots? You should come along with me and we will go see the great one, Uncle Bama. He will protect you and give you all kinds of good things from the pockets of selfish, greedy white racists."

But the tar baby just looked on and smiled, saying nothing. This angered Brer Killer Rabbit. How dare a simple little black boy ignore him and just smile foolishly at him? Did he not know who he was and what he had done throughout the years for his kind?

"Answer me, boy", Brer Killer Rabbit demanded. "Don't you know what I have done for you people?"

But Tar Baby just looked on in mute nonchalance, his idiot smile seeming to meld into his mouth under the glare of the hot summer sun.

"That does it, boy," Brer Killer Rabbit shouted and reached out and grabbed hold of the Tar Baby, whereupon he found himself stuck to the form of the Tar Baby, to the delighted laughter of Brer Fox and Brer Bear.

"That's the funniest thing I saw since Sistah Fannie and Brer Freddie bribed Uncle Bama," Brer Bear said.

"That's the funniest thing I saw since Brer Wilson shouted the truth about what a liar Uncle Bama is," Brer Fox added.

"You better not throw me in that thar briar patch," Brer Killer Rabbit said desperately.

Understanding full well that any hare, including killer rabbits, were always at home in a thicket, even one filled with briars, Brer Fox turned and walked away.

"You got yourself into this mess", he said with a laugh. "Get out the best you can."

"No, you can't do this to me," Brer Killer Rabbit screamed. "You can't leave me all alone like this and just forget about me."

Brer Fox and Brer Bear both knew knew full well he would never get out of the mess he had got himself into. They didn't care. Brer Killer Rabbit would never change his ways. But that was all right. Brer Killer Rabbit was not important enough to worry about.

There Are Some Things You Can Just Never Live Down

Is it possible that little punk Kanye West dissed Taylor Swift as a way of revving up interest in his appearance on the opening night of the new Jay Leno Show? The two events did seem to dovetail a little too neatly to be a mere coincidence. On the other hand, if that's why he did it, why when Leno questioned him about the matter did he seem so embarrassed, so ashamed of himself?

Could it possibly be because when it came time for his appearance, he realized what a dreadful mistake he had made?

No, I'm not talking about the mistake of his insulting Taylor Swift by grabbing the microphone out of her hands at the MTV Video Music Awards and declaring that Beyonce had a great video-implying that she, not Swift, deserved to win.

As you might have guessed by now, I am instead talking about the dreadful mistake he made by agreeing to appear on the first installment of Leno's new dog of a comedy/variety/talk show, which is scheduled to appear five nights a week, Monday through Friday at ten o'clock, on most of the various local NBC affiliates, which I have a strong idea many people are going to be avoiding in droves during said time period.

What the hell are they thinking? That's actually a rhetorical question, again in case you hadn't guessed. It's obvious what's going on here. People are starting, thankfully, to tire of the seemingly endless streams of reality and game shows, so NBC needs another way of attracting viewers-a way that is relatively inexpensive in comparison to creating, writing, producing, directing and casting a truly world class television series, for example.

Simply migrate Leno from his traditional late night spot to the ten pm prime time slot, they seem to have decided, and they should really have a winner. There is only one flaw in their "reasoning". The show is not worth sitting through a whole hour. I made that decision before the first thirty minutes were up on the first night, and didn't even bother to suffer through any more of it before Leno got to his patented "Headlines" routine-the one part of his late night show I use to enjoy somewhat.

Leno is one of those comedians who love to make lame political jokes. Maybe somebody forgot to clue him in to the fact that most people these days just don't have much of a sense of humor when it comes to politics. Granted, this is a problem that could very easily be solved. How? With jokes, of course. The unfortunate caveat to that is-they should be funny.

Yeah, Kanye West, you made a fucking worthless, low-class ass out of yourself, and you should really be ashamed-but take heart. Maybe, like me, most people changed the channel before your appearance on Leno's sorry excuse for a program.

I've been doing a lot of the household stuff most people usually put off until the spring, and one of those things is painting. So far I've painted the living room walls, but not the ceiling and the woodwork yet. I'll get to that later. I painted the walls white, and it looks damn good if I do say so myself. I'm eventually going to do the doors and at least some of the woodwork in turquoise, if I can find that color paint. If not, maybe green, to match my kitchen. Then comes the part I dread-the bedroom. That means a whole lot of moving and cleaning under things first. That's the hard part about painting. It's not the actual painting, it's all the preparation and incidental shit that goes with it that's a pain in the ass. Which is why I haven't posted much in the last few days. Hopefully I'll get caught up in time to do a series of posts for Mabon, and maybe a few things between now and then. But for now, back to the grind.

How Will We Ever Decide?

I listened to Obama tonight as he appeared before Congress and gave his speech about the need for health care reform, and I must say that, though I find myself in stark disagreement with much of what he said, he did make some good points.

I then listened to the Republican response, in the form of a Louisiana Republican member of the House of Representatives, who came from the perspective of a former heart surgeon. He too raised a lot of good points and did a good job of representing the Republican position on this important issue. At the same time, I found myself wary of a good many of his statements.

So, what should we do? How will we ever decide? Who really has the best answers? Who has the overall best interests of the country and the people at heart?

Obama and the Democratic Congress. The opposition Republican caucus.

How will we ever decide between these two suitors? If only we could listen to them in such a way that we could see clearly just what they both are all about.

Hey, I know-

Now the UN is going after airlines emissions in order to combat Global Climate Change, and are pushing an international treaty to keep jet emissions at 2005 levels in perpetuity. Otherwise, airline jet emissions are projected to amount to twenty percent of all carbon emissions by 2050, according to them.

Their recommendation, according to the article, is to allow for a cap-and-trade regime for a brief time before phasing into a period of hard cuts in emissions growth. The plan is to keep reductions steady at 2005 levels, with no increase nor any reductions below this level, the latter of which is apparently an attempt to ensure people can continue to fly at current levels. This moratorium on further emissions growth, in combination with significant cuts in other sectors, will supposedly help to reverse the current climate change trends.

At the current rate of scientific advancement, I wouldn't be too surprised to look up toward the sky one of these days and see-



Of course, then they would be complaining about flying horse flatulence.

The Man With The Golden Arm

I just got through watching The Man With The Golden Arm on KET, or tried to. Whoever was responsible for playing the film apparently went out for pizza or spent most of the time on the phone, or jacking off or whatever, because it was a mess. But it was one hell of a mess.

This is a film that is crying, screaming, and begging to be remade. And this is coming from a person who hates remakes as a general rule.

Still, I can see this remade and set in modern times, with Frankie Machine not a jazz drummer, but maybe as a heavy metal drummer, or for that matter guitarist. Instead of a heroin addict, he is a meth addict. Of course, the film would more sex, violence, and foul language, though admittedly the original starring Frank Sinatra was far ahead of its time in approaching what was then considered the taboo subject of heroin addiction. It was very gritty and realistic, and the jazz score actually added to the film's complexity and charm, as opposed to being corny and distracting, as in the case of so many films where such attempts come across as a blatant attempt to be cool but end up falling flat.

It would be hard to imagine who would direct an updated version and come close to approaching the level of ingenuity achieved by Otto Preminger, and I won't speculate.

It would be interesting to see who would be cast to play the updated role of Frankie Machine. Anybody but that little punk Matt Damon, please.

I won't give a rundown of the film, but if you insist, the link I posted is from Wikipedia, but a word of caution-there is one flaw in the synopsis as given. Of course, I can't be really too damn sure of that, because like I said, the film was so distorted through such a large portion of the airing, its hard to remember everything just right.

Having said that, it's definitely worth watching, and I recommend it highly, so if you haven't seen it, do what I should have done-rent it.

Brian Jones

Now that the authorities in Britain may be on the verge of finally investigating the mysterious, suspicious death of Rolling Stones founder Brian Jones, I wonder if its a safe bet that an old conspiracy theory is about to be trotted out. Of course, I am referring to vague rumors to the effect that Jones was murdered at the behest of Stones lead singer Mick Jagger and/or lead guitarist Keith Richards.

Yet, the very set of circumstances that led to such suspicions might well be the very ones that should serve to put it to rest. Jagger and Richards took creative control of the group which Jones actually founded, and took it in directions in which he never wished it to go.

Jagger and Richards then fired Jones, for a number of reasons-

*He was the only member of the group with a drug conviction, thus could no longer tour the US with the group, which was a practical necessity.

*Jones was so far gone due to drug use he was no good to the group at any rate.

It is also accepted canon in Stones lore that Jones was an abusive figure who slapped his girlfriend around, until she left Jones for Richards.

So what really happened on the night, just one month after the Glimmer Twins fired Jones from the group, that Jones was found dead at the bottom of his swimming pool, the apparent victim of a drug overdose?

Well, according to some reports, Jones was murdered by a friend and contractor by the name of Frank Thorogood, who later allegedly made a deathbed confession to the crime. The reason for the murder of Jones by Thorogood is dependent on who you choose to believe. According to some, Thorogood was angry that Jones was stiffing him on money for services rendered. Another version states that Jones attempted to fire the man and his crew after figuring out he was draining his finances for work that was mostly unnecessary.

There seems to be no principals to the story left alive, other than one witness who claims the contractor, during the night of the party, dived into the pool and approached Jones, whereupon he "did something to Brian"-and then left the scene. But this was known by official investigators at the time, as is the truth of the drug charge. Jones had been drinking, but there was no other drugs in his system. At any rate, why dredge this up now, when there may be no way to prove it one way or another?

Jones could have easily blacked out, suffered a seizure, or hit his head. Jones seemed to be on the verge of making a comeback and attempted to turn his life around. Yet, it might have been all to no avail.His heart was said to be roughly equivalent in health to that of a man in his sixties. Years of self-abuse had certainly taken its toll. And who is to say that the deathbed confession in question actually happened?

Well, of course its also a way to sell papers, and possibly a book by the man most responsible for pushing the investigation, but otherwise, it is doubtful that an examination of a forty year old corpse would turn up anything.

But, even if it did, where then from there? Possibly to the Stones, especially to Jagger and Richards, who are said to "freak out" whenever Jones name is mentioned.

Well, I can think of several reasons for that. One explanation is quite simple-a pair of guilty consciences. Even though they may have felt and still feel that Jones actions and lifestyle left them no choice but to act in theirs and the bands best interests, it has to make them wonder if they could have possibly taken another approach that might have worked out better for all concerned.

Or, they might have felt that Jones death was indeed a murder, by some perpetrator who might have then intended to kill them all. Perhaps Brian Jones death was a portent, or even a warning of some sort.

For that matter, it could have been a reality smack to the Stones. Talent and success are no guarantees that your last breath is not just around the corner. Jones was easily the most talented of the band, by almost all accounts, in at least certain regards. He could play almost any instrument as soon as he picked it up. With just a little effort, he could do so expertly. It was his initial vision and effort that made the Stones a household name. He had the talent, the drive, and the determination to succeed, and not one month after being dumped from the band, was well on his way to rebuilding his life, according to most that knew him well.

Then, just like that-he was gone.

I think, however, that there might well be another reason for the attitude of unease at the mention of Jones. All of them-Mick, Keith, and Jones-were during the time in question involved to some extent not only with drug use, but also with the occult.

I can easily see Jagger, or Richards, or conceivably both of them, conducting a ritual that involved a curse on Jones. Nothing truly meant to be taken seriously, but more than likely conducted partly as a joke, and partly as a way of expelling his influence and all the bad feelings that had built up over the last couple of years. This might well have happened in the days either immediately preceding, or immediately following, Jones firing from the band by Jagger and Richards.

It would be easy to see how Jones death would then affect the men who might have conducted what amounted to an off-hand "Satanic ritual" aimed at their old band mate.

Of course, if this is true, then it would simply mean that Jagger and Richards are probably yet another pair of victims of one of the most pernicious an unfounded myths ever perpetrated on the human race, one intended to keep men mired in superstition and chained to a false belief that a man's fate is not necessarily always in his own hands but can be subverted by supernatural agents who must needs be appeased, a myth which states-there is no such thing as a coincidence.

Of course, the curse might have actually worked. Who can tell?

For any who might be interested, the full story of the life, career, and untimely death of Brian Jones (or at least one version of it) can be read here.

Or, for a truly bizarre yet utterly fascinating take on the tale of sex, drugs, rock and roll and the occult-check out this engaging "true" ghost story.

Hulk Mad! Hulk Smash! Hulk Need Pussy!

Disney buys Marvel Entertainment. Well, that's the plan anyway. All they have to do is sell it to the board of Marvel shareholders. Well, that and cross all t's and dot all i's in the way of getting around any anti-trust concerns, and we will probably be bombarded soon with a slew of Marvel based movies. Worse, this could portend a whole new slate of superhero television series on the ABC television network.

Gag. And just think, when I was a young lad of about seven and eight years old, that would have been a dream come true. As a young whippersnapper, I would spend some time reading my beloved Marvel comics, wondering what it would be like were there to be not merely cartoons, but actual live action adventures starring Spider-Man and the gang. I could envision this to the point that, at this young and tender age, I delighted and regaled family and friends with my own Marvel superhero movie plot and story ideas, just ripe for Hollywood. I think I might have talked just a little too much to a few too many people. Unfortunately,if that is the case, I have yet to receive a dime for all the hard work that went into my pre-pubescent imagination, and I doubt I ever will.

Okay, moving right along-