An Informed Decision

Well, I walked down to my little neighborhood elementary school and did my civic duty, by casting my ballot for the one and only race in which I, as a registered Democrat, was qualified to vote in, a primary election between two Democratic candidates for the office of U.S. House of Representatives from the Fifth District of Kentucky.

Who did I vote for? Hell if I know, it was the first time I had ever heard of either damn one of these guys, neiter one of whom has a snowballs chance in hell of defeating theRepublican incumbent, Harold “Hal” Rogers. Yes, that is the folksy way he is usually listed on ballots, I guess to make you realize he’s a regular guy kind of person.

You see, theFifth District is overwhelmingly Republican, thanks in large part to my county, which is three to one Republican over Democrat. So, why do people vote for this guy. Well, because he is a Republican , of course, and one whop over tecourse of time has come to wield enough power and influence that he has managed to bring home his share of federal money to the area. He is now Chairman of the House Appropriations Sub-committee, so he has some clout. So much so, that the Fifth District of Kentucky is soon to become a new bastion in the War on Terror. In fact, it has been described as, potentially, the next Oak Ridge, Tennessee.

Evidently,that means money for the training of first responders to chemical and biological weapons attacks. Well, so now he has something to show to answer for all the money that has been hidden, I mean, that has gone to a number of organizations and charities with which he has been connected. Only one of these organizations is Operation Unite, of which I have previously ranted as the group of anti-drug warriors that somehow managed to overlook the sleaze bag that used to live across the street from me and who burned down her house, according to rumor, in order to acquire insurance money to payoff a drug debt.

This of course is probably just another boondoggle of similar quality, and I see no promise in it, just another means to funnel money from the good congressman as a patronage gimmick, with the potential for kickbacks to be redirected his way. Of course, there is the possibility it could draw further interest and investment to the area, I will be open minded enough to assess the potential for that, and I will be on the lookout for it. But for now, I have to conclude it is probably just another gimmick from the man whose supporters thought he was of sufficient character to rename the old Daniel Boone Parkway “Hal Rogers Way”.

I still can’t recall the name of the man I voted for in the Democratic primary to run against Rogers in the fall, though he did win by about a four to one margin against his opponent, probably because most of those who voted for him did so for the same reason I did. His was the first name. But I will still vote for him the the general election. You don’t have to kill bears with your bare hands to get my vote. But you do have to be genuine. Otherwise, at least pass some of the pork my way. I’m hungry. Most people that get it are just fat, and greedy.

Weah, Hello

Most of the time you see an artists rendition of the mythical Gorgon Medusa, you are looking more into the soul of the artist than you are at a realistic depiction of the face of sheer terror. Way too often, the depiction is lacking in horror. In fact, the woman will seem plain, if not outright feminine, possibly even attractive, at times even beautiful. Perhaps her face will exude an aura of menace, of evil, but just as often she might seem sad, morose, angry, or even herself fearful-sometimes she might appear comic. In full figured representations you find yourself gazing on the form of a beautiful model, who merely happens to have the unfortunate characteristic of snakes growing out of her head where there should instead be hair. As many times as not, even this seems to add to her attractiveness.

Now, thanks to the Greek artist Oekaki, I am able to present to you what I have always wanted to see, an actual legitimately artistic representation of everything Medusa should be. Sheer, unadulterated terror.

After all, in myth, this entity was born when, after the castration of Uranus by his son Cronus, the latter flung the severed genitals of his father into the ocean, which resulted in several drops of blood splatterred upon the ground. One of these splatters of blood upon the earth formed the wild winged horse Pegasus. From the other, Medusa was born. Yet, in later myth, Medusa was depicted as one of three of the Gorgons, and was described as the mortal one of the three, due possibly to her symbolic birth from the soil of the earth.

I think it was the poet Robert Graves who postulated that the myth of the Medusa was probably based on the use of prophylactic masks in certain goddess cults of Mychaenaean times, specifically singling out the cults of Athene and Hera, who may have used these masks to ward off evil and to frighten away the intruders and curious. This is possible, but I have as yet been made aware of no archaeological or otherwise recorded discoveries that attest to the truth of this. Until such time, we have no way of knowing whether Medusa predated the Hellenic peoples of Classical Greece among the Mychaenaeans, or, for that matter, whether she was adapted from them. Nor can we be sure whether or not she was previously seen in the same manner as she came to be seen by the latter day Greeks with whom we are much more familiar.

Whatever the case, the terrible aspect and ideal of Medusa represents a work of genius of the ancient imagination. She is the face of mortals’ most dreaded fears. To look into her face is to be confronted with, and paralyzed by, all of those fears, all of those that are both personal to the observer, and are unconscous and racial to all mankind. All of those of which we are conscously aware, and at the same time those which reside in the darkest recesses of the unconscous mind.

After all, she was born from the act of castration, itself an innate fear of all men, and so fitting that she should be represented as a female figure, by a culture who itself seems to have taken an untrustworthy view of the feminine sex. Yet, in addition, every snake which protrudes from the Medusas’ head can rightfully be seen as potentially an individual fear, a fear of something-

Poverty, disease, guilt, pain, sufferring, death, loneliness, isolation, humiliation, betrayal-all of those things which have plaqued mankind and turned us all into a global village of neurotic idiots.

This, then, is the accurrate face of Medusa. Look well upon her visage, and thank the artist Oekaki for his vision, and perhaps also for having the kindness for not having her looking directly our way. That may have been too much for us. It may, in fact, have been too much for him. On the other hand, as FDR himself once said-

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself”. That, and maybe an angry woman with a sharp knife.

Sometimes It Just Don't Pay To Be A Bitch

Father John Robertson committed a crime which seems to have come straight from the pages of a Father Andrew Greeley novel. Using a sharp letter opener, he stabbed a nun multiple times, right inside the church, right at the altar, covering her with an altar cloth of some sort as he did so. The stab wounds, which he inflicted after strangling her into unconscous submission, formed the pattern which was reminiscent of the upside down cross. Additionally, he “annointed” her head with her own blood, an act which has ben theorized as being meant to add to the humiliation of the victim.

This was twenty years ago, and though Robinson was briefly investigated as the possible perpetrator, he was quickly absolved of the crime. He seemed to be unconcerned at the degree of suspicion that was cast his way. He performed the nuns funeral mass. After so long, the case was quickly forgotten.

Due to increased interest in solving formerly unsolved crimes due to advances in forensic technologies, the case was reopened, and this lead to Robinson apartment and offices being searched, which turned up the letter opener. As it turns out, the implement held a few trace, microscopic drops of blood, which contained enough of the nuns DNA to provide a positive match.

Robinson has now been found guilty of the crime, for which, unlike a good Andrew Greeley novel, there seems to be not much of a motive. Insofar as is currently known, the nun was a harsh taskmistress, a serious, no-nonsense disciplinarian who may have been something of a busybody. No word on whether there was the potential that she may have had knowledge of other unsavory activities her murderous colleague may have been indulging in.

What I find most incredile of all about this unbelievable story, is the sentence-five years to life.

Are they fucking kidding? That means of course that this priest might well get out of prison after serving a mere five years for this heinous, undoubtedly torturous and painfully cruel act. Of course, he probably will not. The chances are quite good that he will spend the rest of his life in prison. On the other hand, who knows for sure?

This is one of those crimes that call out for the death penaly, and why I am all for it, in general. If somebody like this has the potential of being released after only five years, in a state that has the death penalty, how much more lax will sentencing be if the death penalty ever is done away with. After all, prison rights reformers/activists, if the death penalty is ever sucessfully done away with, will need another issue to champion, right? So, we go back then to that tired old scenario where crimes are to be blamed more on the society that spawned the criminal than on the actual perpetrator, who should be shown some degree of compassion, and maybe given yet another chance to make amends, to contribute to society in positive ways. I see the handwriting on that wall all too well.

And that is definitely enough to make you want to kill somebody.

Somewhere Under A Sand Dune

A lot of times you can learn some interesting shit watching Jay Leno, shit you might not ever hear about anywhere else, which is the case with this story-at least I have as yet to hear it repeated anywhere else. It seems that a Saudi man received surgery which resulted in the successful reatachment of his penis, which had been cut off - by his maid.

Unfortunately, this report did not include the name of the Saudi individual in question, but I can only assume he must have been one of the wealthier citizens of the oil rich state. Most Saudis are actually quite poor, too poor to have maids, so he is one of the wealther ones, obviously. Additionally, he shares the dubious distinction with yet another ndividual, whose name as of now aggravatingly escapes me, who underwent a similar ordeal, in being the unluckiest, and at the same time luckiest, individual on the planet. In this latest case, of course, how lucky he is is tangential to the degree of success of the operation.

As for the maid, incidentally, unlike the man, I think I do know her name-

ONE DEAD BITCH!!

Tom Cruise Is A Fucking Jerk

Katie Holmes is one crazy, neurotic, beautiful bitch. Yeah, I put her right up there with Jolie and Zeta-Jones, only maybe even more so. There is something about selfishness, petulance, and silliness in females that I find perversely attractive. But I think it is just that fucking crazy look she has in her eyes, that slight hint of near insanity that gleems out at you. And of course she’s crazy, why the hell else would she marry a fucking nut like Tom Cruise-even if it is a sham, a fraud. A show marriage.

But what the hell is it for? And why the hell would I in my wildest imaginings go to see Mission Impossible Three, an act which would require me to drive twenty miles in a vehicle that is unfortunately a gas hog. Nope, not worth it. Nor would I see it if it is in walking distance, in fact I would probably agree to see it only under certain conditions, like for example, if I was forced to sit through it at gunpoint.

Why? Well, it really has nothing to do, at least not directly, with Cruses infatuation with the Scientology religion of which he has become such an insufferably sickening proponent. In fact, he has seemed to tap that tendency down, lately. Nor does it have to do with the fact that I think he is using Miss Holmes (and she him) for the sake of publicity, or to be blunt, appearrances. I do, however, fear that he is going to ruin her career, and maybe her life, ultimately. She may deserve it, or may have at one time, but now I think she has been taken past the point where she really has any thing like a free will.

But no, my objections to even the idea of patronizing this movie, even as good as it is said to be, goes right back to his obsession with Scientology. And from there, the Comedy Central network. And the little cartoon series, South Park. Because of Cruses objections, a segment which was run once, which poked fun at the religion of Scientology and of several of it’s celebrity adherents-including, notably, Cruse, of course-was not re-run. Cruse threatened not the network itself, but the parentn company, who also, it turns out, are the producers of Mission Impossible Three.

So how exactly did Cruise threaten the company? Simply put, if they allowed the segment to be repeated, he would refuse to promote the movie. Thus, I would have been denied the pleasure of seeing him last night on Jay Leno, for those roughly first two seconds of his appearrance before I turned off the channel. This was just too much for the company to bear, and I honestly can’t fault them for making this obvious business driven decision. I think they could have forced Cruise to promote the movie, probably, under the terms of his contractural obligations. But what would that be worth?

“So Tom, tell us about your new movie?”

“Ah, it’s okay. I’ve done better.”

And so you have yet another example of a minority that demands the rights guaranteed to the minority, that turns right around and tries to deny the rights of everybody else when it seems to be in their best interests to do so. That’s why I wouldn’t go see this movie, and would hope to convince as many people as possible not to see it as well. After all, didn’t Cruise insult the Mafia when he filmed “The Firm?” To say nothing of corporate lawyers? That’s two despised minority groups right there he insulted. Well, the lawyers anyway. Didn’t he insult a good many Vietnam veterans when he filmed “Born On The Fourth Of July?” And what was all this fucking shit about “A Few Good Men”? Hell, he jumped on the anti Guantanamo bandwagon with that flick almost ten years ahead of time. But he can’t take a little criticism? Bullshit!!!

Cruise is just another spoiled Hollywood elitist actor, in my view, who doesn’t deserve anyones patronage. Like his misnamed infant daughter, a pickpocket who thinks he’s royalty.

Cinco De My Ass

A sure sign that a large segment of the Hispanic population of the United States, if not the majority of them, are more Pro-Latino Nationalist than they and a good many of their supporters would like you to believe, is their obsession with the relatively recent, to America, phenomenon of the celelbration of the Mexican holiday of Cinco de Mayo. The political impications are obvious to me, given the current national mood and controversial nature of the illegal immigrant issue.

This is more than just a Mexican version of the Irish Saint Patricks Day, which has become as much an all around American tradition, in this country, as it is an Irish one. Cinco de Mayo reeks of Mexican nationalism, in fact that is what it openly celebrates. Ordinarily, I would not begrudge them this, as they certainly have a right to the holiday and the celebration of it, however way you slice it. I just can’t help but feel that an Anglo whose loyalties are unknown would be looked upon with suspicion by the masses of Latino celebrants, should he find himself in the middle of one.

Actually, I wonder just what the hell it is they are celebrating. Are they perhaps actually looking toward the future in a more symbolic way than they would care to admit? I know that question may itself reek of a sense of paranoia, but the situation being what it now is, I can’t help but wonder. Maybe I am reading too much into it. After all, probably most of the Latino population celebrates the holiday in an appropriately festive way, with no underlying feelings of anarchistic or rebellious attitudes. All perfectly innocent. But there is that undercurrent. Okay, call me a worry wart. Maybe it is all perfectly innocent, and maybe I should just lighten up.

On the other hand, what the hell are they celebrating? Unless I am mistaken, Cinco de Mayo is supposed to be a celebration of the Mexican rebellion against and overthrow of the French, who attempted to impose themselves on the people of Mexico, which they desired as a colony. I guess this relates to the capture and execution of Maximillian, a puppet king of Mexico, and descendant, I think, of Napoleon, who was installed by the French-or was it the Austrian Hapsburghs? Or was it both? Does it really matter? The Mexicans won that one, God bless ‘em. While they are celebrating that victory, maybe they might want to look anew at the way things turned out in the aftermath. Not too well, I tend to assume.

In fact, Mexico from that point on didn’t so much begin a long downhill slide, it had already spent a good many years in that precarious predicament. But from this point on, it was a sudden drop straight down to the depths. You are looking here at a nation that has spent almost the entirety of it’s independent history as a feudal fiefdom divided pretty much among a relative handful of wealthy families who pretty much control the nations wealth and infrastructure, and civil services, and agriculture, and what industry there is to speak of, and have continued to do so with the grip of an iron hand. Thank God for tequilla and mezcal, I guess, if you’re going to celebrate, you need something to help you forget you really don’t have a damn thing to party about.

It just don’t make any fucking sense. Not to me, anyway. A generalized celebration of Mexican culture, now that would be something I could certainly understand, no mystery there. But Cinco de Mayo? That makes about as much fucking sense as celebrating the overthrow of the Alamo.

Blue Jacket

It would probably take a historian who is a specialist of the Ohio valley region to be familiar with the story of Blue Jacket, the Shawnee Chief who sided with the British against the colonial era settlers during the Revolutionary War, and who was a brutal and bloodthirsty enemy of the white settlers afterwards. But this same Blue Jacket has been the subjectof a yearly Pioneer Playhous type historical drama for some years to come. Unfortunately, this might soon become a thing of the past. Due to lack of funding, the current season might well be cancelled, unless the organizers of the yearly outdoor drama can mount a succesful drive for the solicitation of funds amounting to an estimated fifteen thousand dollars or more. It might be due to economic consdierations. These are not the best of times to engage in frivolous travel activities, is my guess. Or, it could be simply that the drama has just gotten old and might seem a little too tame by the standards of modern entertainment. Remember, this is a family drama. Or, it could simply have run it’s course, at long, long last. Hell, even Hello, Dolly, Oklahoma, and Showboat closed eventually. Nothing lasts forever.

From what I have learned thus far, it seems to have nothing to do with protests from politically correct Native American Rights activists and their allies. So, I have, alas, nothing there to bitch about. But I will be fucking damned if I will let that stop me.

Blue Jacket was, from all accounts, a bloodthirsty monster who stands among the top of the heap as being a main reason for the disintegration of relations between colonial white Americans and American Indians. Colonial white settlers were brutal and barbaric, as well, of that I have no doubt, and they bear their share of the burden (please note-they, not we, bore their share of the burden), but Blue Jacket, and others, were equally savage, possibly more so.

They sided with the French in the French and Indian War. Then, they sided with the British in the Revolutionary War. Then, they sided with the British yet again, in the War of 1812. On all these occassions, and times in between, they exhibited a predilection and a lust fo rbutchery that was remarkable in it’s bloodthirstiness. This period of time, in fact, from roughly 1753 until the closing of the War of 1812, would be the period that would mark and forever color the relations between American and Indian.

This is not meant to excuse the brutality and the excesses of the Americans in the following decades, but to explain it. Just the other side of the coin you are hardly if ever presented with. Unfortunately, if the outdoor drama Blue Jacket can not somehow be salvaged, it will be further clouded in mist. If for no other reason than this one alone, I hope the play continues.

The Great American Smoke Out

Some fucking idiotic genius in Vermont has decided that the prison system of the state, probably filled to the brim and possibly overflowing with cocksuckers and other assorted rapists, theives, murderers, and similarly oriented lowlifes- that shall we say are by their natures not wrapped the tightest, either mentally or emotionally- should be smoke free. Bad for their health you see, especially those who are non-smokers, those whom modern scientists have declared in it’s infinite wisdom to be at greater risk of smoking related diseases due to second hand smoke. Oh, you know who they are, they are called targets.

Vermont, in other words, has accomplished the impossible. They will have, in short order, created a breed of prisoner that will soon rank lower in the social prison order than child molesters-the non-smoker. One prisoner has already been assaulted, in the middle of a card game. It can only get worse from here. And despite what you might think, it will not get better with time, despite the offering of smoking cessation classes, and the opportunity for pisoners to “taper off gradually”.

Maybe the new pill that has recently been announced as an anti-smoking aid will help. Supposedly, it targets the area of the brain that is affcted by smoke, and decreases the degree of satisfaction to be gained from cigarrettes. So, you now have to smoke three or four cigarrettes to get the satisfaction normally afforded by one. Sweet.

If the Democratic Party wins the coming election, look for this program to be expanded in other facilities throughout the country. Oh, yes, that’s right,.prisons were not the first. And, no, they will not be the last.

Robespierre, the bastille awaits.

Bill Clinton Feels Our Pangs

I’m starting to wonder if maybe Bill Clinton is as depraved as his detractors say he is. I mean, what the hell is he thinking? Here is a man who has devoted enormous sums of time and energy, while recovering from triple bypass heart surgery (and don’t forget the followup surgery to relieve post operative fluid buildup) globetrotted the world, championing various causes. He has been a proponent of business development in India, a tireless advocate for AIDS research in Africa and China, he has travelled alongside the former President Gorge H. W. Bush in order to amass funds for relief efforts ranging from the Indonesian tsunami disaster to the US Gulf Huricane Katrina and Rita tragedies.

Then, just when you think he must have finally decided to relax somehwere with a nice cigar and blow job, up he pops with an announcement that he has brokered a deal whereby American schools will no longer carry soft drinks. That is to say, no carbonated beverages, though the schools in the affected areas will still carry diet soft drinks, but only the high schools. There is still yet some question about the safety of artifical sweteners, enough so to exclude even this option from elementary and middle schools.

Instead, the schools will offer bottled water and fruit juices, which, incidentally, carry as many or more calories typically than your average carbonated cola beverage. I point this out because the main point of this so-called breakthrough in childrens health is that it is meant to combat the scourge of childhood obesity.

Okay, I don’t really mean to undermine it, childhood obesity and all it’s attendant illnesses is indeed a serious problem, and seems to be getting worse every year. The increase of juvenile diabetes is especially troubling, but the long range effects are consdierable as well, not the least of which is the potential for heart disease. So yes, it’s a problem, and yes, it is worthy of the efforts of a former President.

But shit now, talk about treating a bullet wound with a band aid, but this is some really piddling shit here. To be fair, there is also an emphass on recommendations for exercise, but why this even greater emphasis on carbonated cola drinks? I mean, is this leading up to something?

It would seem to me that, in addition to the need for exercise, the main emphasis over and above everything else would be, or should be, insuring healthy, well balanced meals. One that would include water and fruit juices as a required cafeteria serving with a healthy but not overfilling portion of lean meat (preferably baked or broiled) or fish, along with a serving of two vegetables (preferably steamed or served fresh) and one of fresh fruit, and a slice or two of good whole wheat bread. Hell, add a slice of pie and cake for dessert, at least once a week, what the fuck. Remember, balance and exercise, that’s the key.

But this? No, something just isn’t right here. I see a lead up to yet another series of class action lawsuits, to be frank, and I don’t like the smell of it.

Curse Of The Hillary Beast

Evidently, somebody forgot to tell the people of Lexington Kentucky that the Repubican Party is on it’s way out, because even if this much is true, it would appear that at least in the Bluegrass, Republican politics is alive and well-strong, in fact. All you have to do to realize this is to watch the local Lexington tv stations on which, at any given time of the day, you are likely to see a television ad on behalf of Lexington mayoral candidate Bill Farmer, a self styled conservative. Yet, more than talking about his own self, and ideas, Farmers ads seem to be more centrally focused on attacks on one of his primary opponnents, Jim Newburrey.

Newburey is, accorrding to the Famer ads, a liberal after the manner of Hillary Clinton-whose smiling face is prominently featured in some of the ads. Farmer accusses Newburey of wanting to implement a Hillary style medical program which, Farmer warns, might well threaten to run doctors out of the Bluegrass State. No explanantion as of yet as to how a mere, lowly mayor of Lexington would accomplish such a milestone achievement, which makes the ad all the more remarkable. Farmers campaign staff evidently has good reason to believe these negative ads are effective. And, so it would seem they are. Newburrey has called on Farmer to remove the ads-a sure sign they have caused him some degree of alarm.

Who do I support for Mayor of Lexington? Anybody but Theresa Issaacs.

Uncle Ernie Fiddles About

Governor Ernie Fletcher has been indicted, just today in fact, for violating state laws regarding state hiring. According to the indictment of the Grand Jury, he went about setting up a special panel to get around these laws, managing to base his hiring of state employees based on not merit, but political patronage. Governor Fletcher might be in some deep shit. Of course, he could reneg on his earlier promise not to pardon himself if indicted, as he did indeed pardon all the others who were faced with that eventuality, ahead of the charges.

Maybe he thought that vow would not be seen as politcal grandstanding, but would provide him with cover from what he asserts is mere politcal grandstanding by State Attorney General Stumbo, a likely gubernatorial candidate for the Democratic Party in 2007. He still, yet today, made that assertion. Speaking in Ashland in response to news of the charges, the Governor insisted the entire investigation was a politcal sham.

Well, sorry Governor, but the people of Kentucky aren’t buying it. According to the latest state wide polls, 57% think the Governor shoud resign from office. A mere 38% think he should remain. 5% are uncertain. Not good news, either for Fletcher himself, or for the recently much bloodied and batterred Repulican Party. The culture of corruption, it seems, like all politics, is local as well.

But this should really come as no surprise anyway, as Kentucky has always been a corrupt state. What the hell else can you assume anyway from a state that passes a law that gives a governor the power to pardon himself? What is eally shameful is that, when it passed, no one noticed, or objected, or, if they did, it was quickly forgotten.

My Avataress

Yes, it is finally time to reveal my new Avatar, and for this one you can thank Rufus, over at GradStudentMadness, whose blog I definitely encourage you to check out, and for which I have supplied a link in the title of this post pending my eventual establishment of a Blogroll. Yes, I am a procrastinator par excellance, and can always find reasons. They are valid ones though.. I don’t want to have too many links on a blogroll, much preferable to have a few standouts. Here are the qualifications.

1. Regularly updated. This is a must. By regular updates, I mean at least once a week on average.
2. Originality. There will be a limited number of politically oriented blogs, and they will be of the highest quality. I do not have to be in agreement with your political philosophy, I just have to appreciate your blogging and wrting style. However, I emphasize, they will be limited. Therefore, know right off that rants against the Booooooooooooooosh Administration, and the “Repugnantcons”, or against the “Demoncraps”, are limiting your chances of being included.
3. Easy on the fucking pictures. They take forever to load, in most cases, when you have an abundance of them, which is why when I update my blog I usually have only one, if any. Today is an exception, one unlikely to be repeated.
4. Political correctness is out of the question. Unless, of course, you can convince me you are merely making fun of it. I can tell the difference. And that goes for conservative style political correctness as well as the more oftenly bashed liberal variety.
5. If you do not allow comments on your Blog, you will not be included. I do not give a rats ass if you are famous. If Craig Crawford can do it on his blog, which will be a likely inclusion, then so can you, Andrew Sullivan and Prussian Blue.
6. You have to join me in a night of group ritual sex.
7. As I stated that you do not have to agree with my points of view, understand as well that I do not have to agree with yours. I know that seems to be a distinction without a difference, but in some cases, depending on the subject matter and person, you would be surprised how often those differences raise their ugly heads.
8. If I have pissed you off in the past, and you have taken me off your blogroll because of it, or have acted like a bitch, don’t come crawling back now for forgiveness. I am not a Christian and I do not believe in it.
9. I am thinking of calling my Blogroll “Pantheon of Blogs”. If you are on it, then, that puts you on the level of a deity, and so you are permitted to act like one-crazy.
10. I was joking about number six.

Well, that’s it for now. Thanks again, Rufus, for the picture, which is evidently an ancient Minoan Goddess, possibly Potnoe Atenoi (Lady Athene), judging by the serpents she holds in her hands. Yes, it is the same goddess as the Hellenic Athene, though she underwent somwhat of a change under Hellenic influence. Though some might refer to perpetual virginity as more of a drastic change, I suppose. At any rate, whichever of the goddesses it is, she is indeed beautiful, and any of my regular readers owe Rufus a true debt of gratitude. I say that beause of what I was originally intending to put on my Blog as my avatar.

You haven’t seen her yet. Oh, but you will-you will.

And They're Off!

I used to know an Anastasia Noonchester who would now be the same age as the lady in the picture on the left. She was just a baby then, but-what the hell, Anastasia, if you Google your name and you come across this post, and if that is indeed you (or even if it is not) send me an e-mail.

And, again, for the lady in the picture, if you are the same person-or even if you are not-good luck on Derby Day. According to hte report in the Lexington Herald Leader, a pretty young stripper/dancer with the right moves might pull in as much as two or three thousand dollars on a single night, and, again acording to the report, dancers and strippers look forward to Derby Day the same way most of us look forward to tax refund day.

So have at it girls, I wish I could be there. Second only to the winnig horses and their owners, trainrs, and jockeys, this is your day and night to shine. What with this and all the other events going on in Louisville during Derby weekend, how can you go wrong? This in addition to all the other races, including the vaunted Oaks, leading up to the most exciting two minutes in sports, the Kentucky Derby itself. I can just see it. Hear it. Fell it. Taste it.

And they’re off. There’s Brother Derek out the starting gate. Side by side with Ron and Paul. Steppenwolfer is edging up by a nose but look out here comes AP Warrior-in front now by a length. Rounding the curve is Lawyer Ron, but up the backstretch comes Sinister Minister. Here comes the final stretch and it’- it’s

POINT DETERMINED!!!!

Prison Break

If I were writing a Mad Magazine parody of the hit Fox Network TV series Prison Break, I know just how it would end. By the time it was over, every single prisoner of Fox River Penitentiary would be in on the break out, with main character Michael bringing up the rear, when, looking behind him, he would see the main guard Bellick and all the other guards right on his tail.

“Are you guards trying to catch us?”, he would ask in typical cornball Mad magazine satire dialogue.

“Catch you?”, Bellick would reply. “Hell no, we’re trying to escape too, from this crazy, unrealistic, non-sensical plotline.”

And there is plenty about the show that requires suspension of belief. The inmates of Fox River penitentiary, for example, have access to phones in the prison yard, and can evidently call out anytime, to any number they wish to call-free of monitoring.

But at last we know now that at least some of the assembled gang that now numbers nine, will escape, at the end of this season, and as the series has been renewed for next season, they will spend the entirety of said next season avoiding capture, while Lincoln and Michael try to prove that Lincoln was framed for the murder of the female Vice-Presidents brother-who actually was not murdered, but faked his death, all in an effort to draw Lincolns father out of hiding. Don’t ask.

I will tell, though, my predictions for the up-and-coming series.

John the Mafia boss will turn out to be involved not only in a betrayal of Lincoln and Michael involving Lincolns former girlfriend in an effort to find the snitch Fibbonacci (whose tetimony put him in prison for life) but will end up having connections to the Vice-Presidents brother as well.

AJ, Lincolns son, will be sent to prison for the murder of his mother and step-father, and will be befriended by Haywire, who will eventually help him to escape, as they will form a bond based on the similarity of the reasons for their incarcerations-patricide. (this is assumming of course that Haywire does not end up joining in on the escape at the end of this season).

As the Vice-President has concerns over strains in her recent alliances, she will have the current President killed, whereby she will assume the office for which she will then run with the power of incumbency, in addition to the warchest that was stolen from her brothers company.

Philly also will end up at Fox River, and will form an alliance with Bellick, who will be his link to the outside in an effort to extract revenge on both Michael and John.

Bellick will also become the new warden of Fox River, after “The Pope” is done away with.

T-Bag will stumble upon the mass murder scene of a family against whom he had wanted revenge, and will be blamed for this murder, which will have been perpetrated by one of Johns Mafia stooges. He will barely avoid capture. Later, he will ass rape the punk ass Secret Service agent.

C-Note, one of those whom John originally planned on killing upon their escape, along with all the others except for two (probably Michael and Lincoln), will become Johns new muscle on the outside when the heat proves too much for him to re-establish contact.

John will find and kill Fibbonnacci.

Sucre’ will murder his cousin over the same woman for whom he stupidly caused himself to be sent to prison in the first place, a cunt I would find the ugly ass Vice-President preferable to.

No, I don’ treally believe most of this will happen, but that’s the good thing about this show, you find yourself trying to figure out just what is going to happen-the hallmark of a great show. And, despite all it’s flaws and shortcomings, it is truly that, an edge of your seat thriller that, once you get hooked, will keep you tuning in, week after week.

Neil Young Declares War

Here is a link for you that is probably getting more hits than a high class hooker on the backstreets of Peoria. Neil Young. Need I say more?

Neil Young is the kind of recording artist who has done it all, and no matter what he does he makes it unique. A true genius that once went slumming in a neighborhood far beneath him when he joined a trite little band called Crosby, Stills, and Nash, outclassing the second class Stills, and the third rate at best Crosby and Nash.

When Graham Nash, along with David Crosby, who laughingly refers to himself as a minstrel, sing protest songs, it can inspire at worst nausea, at best a feeling of either nostalgia or revulsion at the memory of the sixties, but most of the time just chuckles at their irrelevance. The same goes for most of the other 1960’s icons of their day, such as Joan Baez, to whom the current national mood is their one last chance to make the big time, in a way that speaks of more than just good luck and timing.

In fact, I have a theory that David Crosby’s most significant contribution to rock music was the beatles song “And Your Bird Can Sing”. Yeah, I know that was a Beatles song, a Lennon and MacCartney number. Lennon wrote it after he fucked Crosby’s wife.

Be that as it may, Young is a true artistic genius, and when an artist of his calibe devotes an entire album to a protest of the Iraqi War and the Bush MisAdministration, the Christian Far Right and the Neo-Cons have reason to be concerned. They can be excused if they see no occasion to chuckle in derision.

This is definitely worth a listen, if you can find the time. Send the link far and wide. Smoke a doobie while you’re at it. Remember, it’s better to burn out than to fade away.

Napster

Napster may have just earned a permanent home on my Links section. Cehck it out. Five songs, for free. No, no, you can’t download them. You can however listen to them. Okay, clarification. There are more than two million songs in Napsters archives. Each one of those songs-yes, each and every one of them-you can listen to, for free, a total of five times each.

Yes, five times each. After that, if you want to listen to it again, yes, you have to pay, and I guess you pay even more for downloading. So what? If you like a song so much that you just have to listen to it more tan five times,. isn’t it worth it to dowmload it?

If not, hell, listen to it five times, then listen to something else five times. Shit, there are, like I said, two million plus of them, and more and more will doubtless be added in time.

Plus, there’s a forums section. I guess that’s been there for awhile, I don’t know. What I do know is, Napster seems to have hit on a winning formula and has pulled out of it’s legal troubles in a way which is compatile to it’s own interests, evidently, as well as to the interests of the recording artists.

I for one intend to check out some of the newest offerrings from Pink, who is these days attracting notice as something of a socially conscous performer and critic of the Bush Administration inher own right. I am of the hopes that she is better than your average troubadour, I know for a fact she is cuter.

You Can't Hide Balls The Size of Colberts

Okay, I know I don’t usually jump on bandwagons, but desptie the fact that you hav already heard about the performance of Steven Colbert at the Washington Correspondents Dinner a zillionth time, I feel compelled to make it a zillionth and one. Colbert accomplsihed something few true journalists, even of the reputation of Bob Woodward, have the balls to do, which is to criticize George Buish to his face, and in the presence of his wife at that.

More than that, he criticized the mainstream press for not really doing it’s job, for the most part. While you can point to individual examples of exceptions, such as Helen Thomas and David Gregory, in addition to NBC’s Brian Williams first rate coverage of the Hurricanes Katrina and Rita disasters, most of the press seems to have been cowed. Even Chris mattews, once ferocous as any bulldog in his coverage on Hardball of the Scooter Libby/Joseph Wilson/Valerie Plame/Patrick Fitzgerald, et al., controversy, now seems to have been strangely neutered.

One of the most telling moments of the evening came when Colbert advised the press to go home, spend some time with their families, write that book they’ve always wanted to write, about that fearless reporter standing up to the powerful and corrupt politicans. “You know-,” he said in mock encouragment, “fiction”.

Very few people laughed that evening, including Bush and Laura-or most members of the press. Nor should they have.

I have provided a link in the title, courtesy of “Pissed Off Patricia” of the blog “Morning Martini” (a good politically oriented blog, by the way), in which you can write a word of thanks to Mr. Colbert. My note is, if I remember correctly, number 17,006. I have don’t yet know how many other notes have been written since mine, but by all means, please add to the number.

What We The People Need

It looks like Mexico President Vincente’ Fox has decided to nullify any law passed that would legalize possession within his country of small amounts of marijuana, which, had it come to fruition, would have been an obvious ploy designed to pay off campaign debts to drug lords and at the same time increase Mexican tourism, at a time when it is desperately needed. As someone who would like to see marijuana legalized-and regulated-here in this country, I personally had no problem with the proposed law. Yet, it was quickly squashed, and I have no doubt that objections from the Bush Administration, and especially the Justice Deparments and State Departments, played more than a minor role, and in fact may have been the crucial factor in Fox’s change of heart.

This is very telling, and what it tells me is American diplomacy, if capable of overruling the significant and powerful interests of drug lords and tourist resort operators, can accomplish much more. So, if this is the case, why can’t they induce more cooperation with Fox on the issue of illegal immigration? They might try to suggest that the imigration situation is precisely why the U.S. has this influence over Fox, but I ain’t buying it. Instead, it seems to me that the US and it’s politicians, of both parties, are determined to deny the wishes of the American people to bring the chaotic immigration situation under control, to put an end to illegal immigration, to secure the borders, and not reward those who flout our laws by coming here illegally by letting them profit by becoming American citizens ahead of, and at the expense of, those who come here legally.

The wishes of the majority of Americans are clear on the matter, but we are being denied our voice. Oh, we are being heard, believe that. But we are being defied, and will continue to be defied. We are every day inching closer to becoming a full fledged capitalistic feudal society with pretensions of democracy in the form of bread and circuses, a mere colony of a corporatist elitist commecial empire. The peoples wishes are adhered to only so long as this furthers the agendas of the politicians and their corporatist elites and a handful of political actions committees, many of whom are ostensibly the opponents of the elite, but in reality are merely a diverse variety of dog and pony shows that seek no more than enough contributions to justify the obscenely high salaries of their chairpersons, and influence over the workings of the opposition party.

The majority of American people themselves would like to see marijuana legalized and regulated, or at least the largest plurality do, while a signficant pecrentage of the others do not care, but for the most part even they can not justify the excessive amount of tax dollars wasted on the drug war, at least not so far as marijuana goes. Certianly the majority are in favor of medical marijuana, but this too is a wish denied the people by those leaders who are their elected representatives.

So it should come as no surprise that, as long as business owners can reap huge profits by employing illegal aliens at low wages for nasty and in some cases back breaking and dangerous work, and as long as politicians are influenced by these corportists and by dizzy dreams of hundreds of thousands, in some cases, of new and grateful voters, they don’t care what you or I think or say. They are going to do what is best for them. If the country goes to hell, they don’t care. Remember, they probably have the money to go anywhere and live quite well.

With each passign day, I am becoming more and more a fan of Robespierre.

We're All Sick And Fucking Tired

Bay Buchanan, conservative talk show guest and pundit, and sister of former conservative Preisdential aspirant Patrick Buchanan, has an interesting take on the Gulf Coast disasters of last year. We are all sick of hearing about it.

I agree with Ms. Buchananan. I am sick of hearing how the federal government failed to appropriate the money needed to shore up the levee system, and how what money was appropriated to New Orleans in paritcular was wasted to such a large degree by the stae of Louisiana and city of New Orleans, that the end result was not only the failure of the levees, but the simultaneous failue of the pumps that could have otherwise pumped the water out of the New Orleans flooded areas reatively quickly.

I am sick of hearing about how Bush and his Administration denied the scope of the disaster in public, while every day the mainstream media conveyed images of the horror and disasters.

I’m sick of hearing Republican apologists constantly defend the incompetence of the Bush Administration. I am sick of hearing so many people engage in blaming the victims for not getting out of the area, even though many of them had no place to go, and no way to leave if they had a place. I am sick of hearing them being accussed of purposely staying behind for purposes of looting, or out of hopes of filing lawsuits. I am sick with the knowledge, that, in reality, most of them had no way out.

I’m sick of heaing how Federal bureaucratic red tape held up rescue efforts resulting in needless deaths and countless numbers of homelessness and suffering among the people of new Orleans, as well as Mississippi and Alabama. I am sick of how this bureacratic bungling resulting in drowning, starvation, dehydration, and myriads of other disasters visited on the poverty stricken, the elderly, the infirm, the children, the animals.

I’m sick of hearing of how Bush and other politicians have promised New Orleans will be rebuildt, yet the reality seems to be no money is being made availiable for this effort, and how still yet the homeless former residents of New Orleans are denied so much as a temporary trailor in which to live, while in the meantime they are constantly threatened with eviction by the same Federal agencies that should have prevented or at the least greatly alleviated this sufferring to begin with, yet failed to do so.

I’m sick of thinking about how evidently this is just another excuse to justify yet more no-bid contracts to companies that hire nonunion workers, and illegal immigrants, while the city of New Orleans seems to be earmarked for development at the expense of it’s former residents, the heart and soul of the city.

I am sick of hearing that it is just another two months or slightly less now before the onset of the next hurricane season. I am sick of hearing about how, in all probability, neither New Orleans or theGulf Coast is ready yet to handle another storm of the scope and magnitude of hurricanes Katrina and Rita.

I am sick of so much it is hard to keep track of all of it. But the thing I am most sick of, Bay Buchanan, is people like yourself.

Smoking In The Boys Room

The May 16^th primary is soon approaching, and I have one thing to say to the voters of Lexington Kentucky. That is, if you vote for Theresa Isaacs, or are planning to do so, I have one thing to say to you. If you all had one neck, I would hack it. No, that is not original, that is a quote from the histories of the Roman historian Tacitus, which he attributed to Gaius “Caligula” Caesar.

The last time the former Lexington City Council member ran for mayor, I defended her against charges that she was unfit, based on the fact that she had lost her children and was behind on her child support payments. It was said that this was a sign of a deceptive person, a person of bad character.

In her case, at least, the charges were correct. As soo as Issaacs won the election for mayor, for which she is now running as incumbent, she lost no time in pushing through a law that would ban cigarrette smoking in all bars and restaurants and all other public buildings. Not even a small smokers section was allowed. Funny, I don’t recall her campaigning on this issue. But so it goes. This is a perfect example of the philosophy of the American politician. Sometimes you have to make a clear cut decision, one way or another. Sometimes you either have to uphold the wishes of the majority, or you have to defend the rights of the minority. In many cases, there is no middle ground, suppossedly anyway. So, what to do in these cases?

The wishes of the majority-uphold them if it furthers your agenda

The rightsof the minoriy-defend them if it furthers your agenda.

Get the picture? I do, I think it’s called the old bait and switch. Whichever position is most convenient for you at an given time, you have a ready made excuse to fall back on. And so it goes in this case. Only here, the issue is, well, shrouded in smoke, as it is incresingly unclear who is the majority and who is the minority.

Oh well, who cares? Restaurant and bar owners, perhaps? Sure, they will make it, I guess, the better financed and established ones will anyway, the ones who can afford to adapt, the ones who can cut corners to make up loss profits. The higher class restaurants for the most part, of course, will still do fine. Perhaps more will come to take up the slack, I don’t know. Lexington does have some first class places, but there is always room for more. Perhaps a nice French restaurant. Humm, what should we call it?

Hey, I know- Robespierres.