chipstah!

2003-06-18T14:34:00.000-05:00

Nothing is wrong with your monitor.

The site has moved. The new address is:
chipstah.com

2003-06-16T21:20:00.000-05:00

The Matrix has you?

Reloaded fans, the post you probably came here to see with the translation of the Merovinginan's cursing (Nom de Dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard d'enculé de ta mère) can be found here.

2003-06-13T18:25:00.000-05:00

D O N E !

My journey to the dark side is now complete. The evil twin is now in control.

In other words, please go here for new posts.

And there are even new posts there!

2003-06-11T04:37:00.000-05:00

Almost done. On Thursday, my journey to the dark side will be complete!

2003-06-09T13:52:00.000-05:00

Evil twin getting evil

Cut, paste, edit, resize, publish, cut, paste, edit, resize, publish... been hard at work getting the evil twin (the new site) ready for battle, coming real soon now. It's becoming a monster job. It wasn't supposed to be, but I wanted to put my old posts up on the new place, started fiddling and tweaking with the posts, the code and especially the pictures. I didn't know HTML from BBDO when I started this thing and wanted to get it right on the new site. Especially since you'll be able to search all the articles. Sort of like George Lucas when he came out with those "Special Edition" versions of the original Star Wars Trilogy a while back, but with more pictures of Laurie Dhue and no Ewoks.

Here's a sneak preview, using the lovely ladies of Fox News as the example. Here's the original version, if the page loads at all and the oversize images don't choke your Internet connection. Here's the evil twin version, at the new place, which loads quickly and looks great. I'll let you know when I make the for-real switch and start officially blogging at the new place, so for now, but not much longer, main posting will be here. A few design tweaks still need to be done and lots of posts need to be moved.

This is a very long-winded way of saying thanks for your patience, which appears to be almost limitless. A couple more days, and we're golden.

2003-06-09T13:49:00.000-05:00

Thank you, Madonna

Not Madonna.

I still don't know exactly how this came about, but I ended up watching ABBA videos over at a friend's house for part of Sunday afternoon. And I laughed my head off.

OK, let's give the Volvo-driving foursome a little credit for doing videos years before everyone else, and I know I'm writing this after twenty years of Ridley Scott, MTV, and the Wachowski brothers redefining our visual vocabulary, but come on. The ridiculous outfits, the soft-core porn gauzy filters on the lenses, the goofy poses (what was the deal with them always looking up?), the Eurovision Contest vibe, the men with better-looking female hairdos than the actual women, the IKEA-like earnest cheerfulness, the incredibly cheesy special effects... so bad, so horribly, dorkily, un-self-consciously awful, it's funny.

Then it hit me. Years from now, when explaining politics to my children and they look at me all weird and think I'm just running off at the mouth about Stalin, Hillary Clinton, Pol Pot and all that, all I will have to do is find this DVD, play it, and I will tell them:

This is what Socialism did to rock and roll.

And that will be that.

And I also have to thank Madonna. Sure, I loathe her pretentious, ill-thought out, America-slandering, Bush-hating hypocritical tendency to spout off. Sure, I will never understand what the deal was with the pointy cone things she wore on her chest. Sure, some of the things she did after she abandoned her Britney-for-us-Reagan-kids persona are truly bizarre.

No matter what she has done or will do, though, at least she spared us from 10 more years of ABBA. That matters.

2003-06-09T13:45:00.000-05:00

Bears in the woods

Now that noted recluse and non-resident of EASTERN North Carolina Eric "the Terrorist Reindeer" Rudolph has been captured, he won't shut up. When talking with the authorities about his time on the lam, he helpfully noted that he hadn't been with a woman in so long that, in his words, "the bears started looking good".

Thanks, Eric. You killed people and brought terrorism to the South. You made Atlanta look bad when the eyes of the world were upon us in '96, and even made Juan Antonio Samaranch make frowny faces at us and not say that the Atlanta Games were "the best games ever". No, now, you have to also go and confirm certain stereotypes about people who live in the Appalachians. Cute.

Rudolph's lawyers are arguing that Rudolph's seven years of hiding are not a sign of guilt:

There are all kinds of reasons why people get scared and run and hide. I don’t know what I would do if I was the subject of a nationwide manhunt.

Well, if I was innocent, I might get in touch with somebody to clear the whole thing up to avoid seven years of salamander sushi and bear-bopping. Sounds crazy, but it just might work!

But if Rudolph is innocent as his lawyers maintain (and the legal system insists until he is proven guilty in court), why did he run up into the hills in the mid-90s without ever intending to come back if he was innocent? Possibly...

* Scary Spice was just too scary

* He got fed up with busy signals trying to log onto that newfangled AOL thing and just lost it

* He thought the "Terminator" movies were true, that the world would end in 1997, and was preparing to help John Connor in his war against the machines

* One too many letters from Ed McMahon telling him that he may have already won 10 MILLION DOLLARS!!!!!!

* Couldn't handle it when Ellen DeGeneres came out of the closet

* Accurately forecast the decline of UNC athletics once Dick Baddour took over as Athletic Director, and didn't want to be around to watch

* Got tired of seeing Judge Ito on TV and wanted to make absolutely sure he'd never see him again

* The Atlanta suburbs were oozing just a little bit too far north, and he took the only step he could

* Delta's '96 Olympics ad campaign with the "Chariots of Fire" guy flying around the world sent him around the bend

* Wanted to remember Bill Clinton as a slick, somewhat sleazy politician you only suspected of cheating on his wife

* Wanted to remember Anna Nicole Smith when she was just a curvy blonde in magazine pictures

* Knew something the rest of us didn't about all those Starbucks that started popping up out of nowhere

If Rudolph defies all logic and probability and is found innocent, he probably has a career in advertising awaiting him:

"There's nothing better than a half-eaten taco."

Or he could just sue Taco Bell for what he said already. It's already worked for some people.

2003-06-09T13:38:00.000-05:00

Keep them doggies rollin'...

Kevin over at Wizbang is saying some nice things about me: "too good for Blogspot". Wow. Gracias! Kevin just passed the 10,000 visitor mark, and he's celebrating. Well deserved.

Kelley is saying nice things too. So cool, and even has a pic of Robert E. Lee as well.

Maripat won her linkage contest with Jay, woohoo! Kate celebrated her birthday in true venomous style (you can ask her how old she is; I'm brave, but I'm not that brave). Geoffrey has been asked to marque el dos para español one too many times.

Finally, Merde In France reports that the transport strikes have subsided, but the politician bandits continue their evil ways, slanted reporting and America-bashing continue to run rampant in the French media, and terrorists are running amok in the Sarcelles burbs.

In other words, everything's back to normal:

As usual the French are flattering themselves. They do not root for the weak, they simply try to get their kicks the cheapest way possible, as do all embittered losers. The reality is that French induhviduals are ready to root for Al-Qaeda terrorists against the office workers of the Twin Towers or root for bloodthirsty animalistic bomb belted Palestinians against Israeli civilians. There are few places as overtly anti-American on Earth as France right now. Americans should get used to the fact that they are hated here. Period.

La vie en rose...

2003-06-05T15:28:00.000-05:00

Seduced by the dark side...

Sorry blogging is light/slow today (and probably will be tomorrow as well). I've been working on chipstah!'s evil twin (the new site), so the free moments I usually spend blogging have been spent trying to master the intricacies of MoveableType, Javascript, and CSS stylesheets. Happy, happy, joy, joy.

The site should go live early next week, and you should be happy with the results: pages that load in real time instead of geologic time (if at all), the return of comments, and permalinks that actually work.

If you have a free moment, please go visit my blogfather and my blogmother, who've done the real heavy lifting with the upcoming switch. I'm very grateful, of course, and you should be too -- they're readers like you who like my stuff, but hated the balky wait... and decided to do something about it. Their blogs are pretty darn good, too.

2003-06-05T15:26:00.000-05:00

Infernal affairs

W over at Merde In France is quite astonished that my sources were able to pinpoint his location during this week's public-transit strikes in Paris. He's even threatening to call in "Internal Affairs" on me. W writes that the French slang for IA is boeuf-carrottes au cul, having to do with roasting bad guys slowly until they talk, sort of like a stew.

I'm glad W explained this, because my literal high-school translation of "boeuf-carrottes au cul" led me me to think of the problems French ad agencies are having with media placement:

sent in by FootballBatJim

And don't worry about my spies, Dooble-Vay. They're just doing their job. To paraphrase James Bond's "M", "Unlike the CIA, we prefer not to get our news from CNN."

2003-06-05T15:20:00.000-05:00

Gotcha!

In other news from the nation of fromage (cheese, but snootier), French authorities have ~~awarded a medal to~~ arrested a Moroccan wanted in connection with the 9/11 attacks.

Somewhat strange, as many Frenchmen believe George Bush, Jews, Norwegians, and possibly the Klingons were to blame for 9/11, not al-Qaeda. But then, I never can quite identify with the French tendency toward existentialism and deconstruction as literary motifs.

2003-06-05T15:19:00.000-05:00

Rollin', rollin', rollin'...

DF over at Sketches of Strain is saying some very nice things about this here blog, even resorting to quoting Confucius:

The truly wise are of cheerful demeanor

DF also wonders how I can wear a black turtleneck and still survive Texas summers. That's easy. Covered parking, air conditioning, and Shiner Bock. Lots of Shiner Bock.

2003-06-05T15:17:00.000-05:00

New York state of mind

I got bored with Andrew Sullivan's jihad against the New York Times a months ago (thought he was stating the obvious), but thankfully he stuck with it, because he was right. The victorious Mr. Sullivan also alerts us to the wider threat to our culture and our nation:

mercurial, power-crazy Southern liberals

Howell Raines isn't the only one. I can think of one or two, and I'm sure you can as well.

2003-06-05T15:16:00.000-05:00

Insider trading, perhaps, but always tastefully done

Martha, Martha, Martha. When your brand's essence partly rests on setting a level of anal-retentive perfection that makes every other woman in America feel like a complete failure, the trip downhill can be very quick.

2003-06-04T05:14:00.001-05:00

You da man

Geoffrey Allen, blogfather (birth expected in 5-7 days)

2003-06-04T05:14:00.000-05:00

HILLARY GOP DEFECTION SHOCK!

Startling evidence out today from multiple sources that Hillary Rodham Clinton is switching sides and joining the Republican Party. On the floor of the U.S. Senate, she is arguing, even screaming, that the President's tax cuts don't go far enough:

"We need to fix this and fix it fast... basically, it's devaluing their children and their life."

And in her new book out this week, she reveals what she really thought about her husband's two terms as President:

I could hardly breathe. Gulping for air, I started crying and yelling at him, 'What do you mean? What are you saying? Why did you lie to me?'

I was dumbfounded, heartbroken and outraged that I'd believed him at all... nothing but profound sadness, disappointment and unresolved anger. I could barely speak to Bill, and when I did, it was a tirade.

Some Hillary critics remain angry with Senator Clinton in spite of her joining the vast right-wing conspiracy, including real-world Terminatrix of the right Ann Coulter:

We can hope that she has protected at least some American women from Bill Clinton's rapine sexuality.

and the academic world's answer to Xena: Warrior Princess, Camille Paglia:

I don't care about her sado-masochistic marriage. Anyone who stays married to an infantile, drooling, serial groper deserves what she gets.

Janeane Garofalo, blissfully unaware of historical reality as ever, remains loyal to the junior Senator from New York in spite of her switch of allegiance:

That's her business. It's not our concern.... It's the type of thing that changes the subject from Hillary's achievements... she could absolutely be president if she so desires.

More on this story as it develops.

2003-06-04T05:13:00.000-05:00

Say what?

Updating the list of interesting search queries that have led some folks here. Starting with the understandable:

Villepin poetry
Matrix cursing
Porn star guru

The baffling:

Topless gymnasts bouncing

The title of either an animé DVD or Frank J's next opus:

Primal force baboon

And the intriguing:

Kiran Chetry smoking

Several hits from this one. Evidently there is a rumor going around the web that Fox News anchor Kiran Chetry is a fairly intense smoker. I couldn't find any corroboration for this, just rumors, so I don't have the answer or a link.

I do, however, know that Kiran Chetry was separated at birth from Alyssa Milano.

from left: Kiran, Alyssa, Celebrity (not Kiran or Alyssa) smoking.

2003-06-04T03:51:00.000-05:00

Circulation: French for traffic

As always, President Bush finds a way to confound his critics. While some G8 leaders criticized him for leaving the summit early, it turns out that Dubya was simply avoiding snarled traffic.

No word yet as to whether suspected Frenchman and capitalist tool "W" of Merde In France is speeding down Paris' now-deserted bus lanes, lighting big cigars with 20-Euro notes, and laughing like hell at the strikers.

No word, either, on how this national crisis impacts the French government's post-G8 round of state-sponsored cocaine-fueled hooker-staffed S&M orgies commissioned by leading anti-pornography crusaders (and you thought Bill Bennett was having a tough time of it).

2003-06-04T03:41:00.000-05:00

Akira Kurosawa on diplomacy

Hopefully "W" from Merde In France is reading this, because something is getting lost in the translation from Français to English with these comments. Canadian PM Jean "John" Chretien, on healing transatlantic wounds at the G8 summit:

The fact that we met to chit chat and discuss is very useful," he said. "The past is the past, is the motto. Let's look at the future."

French Président and confirmed Weasel Jacques "Strap" Chirac, on the same gathering:

"We haven't changed our view. The Security Council mostly followed us because it did not give a green light to the American action," he said, describing the war as `'illegitimate and illegal."

"I did not approve and I still don't, and I said this yesterday to President Bush"

8 participants, 8 interpretations, 8 different stories, leaving the viewer to decide who is right and wrong in a masterpiece of Japanese storytelling...

No wonder Dubya got the heck out of Dodge a day early.

2003-06-04T03:33:00.000-05:00

When the cat's away, the mice will play

On Monday, with President Bush at the meeting, the G8 leaders called on North Korea and Iran to end their nuclear programs, with the threat of "if necessary, other means" than diplomacy and sanctions if the dastardly duo ignore the civilized world.

"Plan on track, bad guys warned, problem solved. That's the way we do things in Texas. Gotta run take care of this Palestinian thing. See ya, Jacques, wouldn't want to be ya."

But on Tuesday, with Dubya long gone, Chirac reverted to type:

This interpretation seems extraordinary daring. There was never a question of using force against anyone in any way.

Warmly familiar in a bad way, sort of like finding an old pair of running shoes in the back of the closet that still smell like an old pair of running shoes.

Which brings to mind the question: if military action is not the "if necessary, other means", then what is a suitably fearsome "big stick" in the French mind to accompany the "soft walk" of diplomacy? Some possibilities:

* Locking the mullahs and Kim Jong Elvis in a room while Dominique "Wilkins" de Villepin reads them his entire 800-page book of poetry and philosophy

* Telling them to go away, or we shall taunt them a second time

* Signing lucrative business deals with the dictators involved; that'll teach 'em a lesson they won't soon forget

* Dispatching crack squads of French city dwellers to parachute into their capital cities with their dogs, thereby effectively carpet-bombing them with doggy-doo, making no distinction between military and civilian targets... just like Paris!

* Hiring Woody Allen to go on TV and lecture them about why they're wrong

* Fetchez la vache!

* Playing screechy Edith Piaf albums really loud (hey, it works for the 3rd ID)

* Inviting them to one of those Dominique Baudis parties, but acting like you didn't invite them when they show up at the door, so that the bouncer is forced to push them around a bit and maybe even call the cops

* Smoking lots of cigarettes, even between courses of meals, and don't really care where you blow the smoke

* Using advanced EU space technology to jam their TV broadcasts to play nothing but French TV (you know, Jerry Lewis and Madonna movie marathons)

* Acting all superior and stuff

Of course, Japan was also in on this little switcheroo, so there might have been some other "alternate means" in mind to back up the strong words:

* Air-dropping millions of "Hello Kitty" and "Winnie the Pooh" "female massagers" randomly across the country to corrupt their women

* Using advanced Sony technology to jam their televisions so that they show nothing but cartoons involving weird robots, irritatingly shrill children and big-eyed adult women clad in schoolgirl outfits for no apparent reason

* Cutting off their supply of white Toyota pickup trucks (the jihadi version of OJ's Bronco)

* Shaming them

* Blockading their borders and cooking supplies, thereby forcing them to eat nothing but seaweed and raw fish out of tiny lacquer boxes

Oh, wait, strike that last one, those are my lunch plans for Friday for Amy's birthday.

If none of that works, maybe the French should consider sending over an elite squad of mutant pirate cyborg monkey zombies. While certainly evil, they still fall into a grey area of international law. The Geneva convention expressly forbids elite mutant pirate cyborg monkeys, but remains very quiet on the subject of their undead zombie counterparts.

2003-06-04T03:32:00.000-05:00

Cowboy up

From Australia, somewhere west of El Paso, Tim Blair warns us that London's Guardian newspaper "has dared to mess with Texas":

Mr Chirac cannot expect to be invited to the Texas ranch any time soon, as Mr Putin was. This may be seen as a blessing in disguise. Texan cuisine is robust, rather than haute. And its red wine is still in the early stages of development.

Rather ironic, being chided about cuisine from a country that refers to something called "spotted dick" as a national dish, as opposed to a very urgent reason to visit a urologist.

Don't mess with Texas, pardner. We may not have your Merlot around these here parts, but we do happen to have more armed pickup trucks than the armed forces of the entire European Union combined.

2003-06-04T03:31:00.001-05:00

Mental note

Remember to cuddle.

2003-06-04T03:31:00.000-05:00

New epidemic: idiocy

It's probably not a good idea to tie one on at Hooters while you've got custody of your three-month-old for the weekend.

Kate has evidence that the virus is spreading beyond the Democratic Party.

2003-06-04T03:25:00.000-05:00

In a recession, you've gotta sell!!!

No gold prizes at this year's D&AD International Advertising Awards in London.

You mean to tell me that this didn't win a D&AD?

Some Europeans must still be bitter about the war, I guess.

2003-06-04T03:21:00.001-05:00

Gone to (East) Carolina in my mind

While blogfather Geoffrey may enjoy my site, my #1 fan*, FootballBat Jim, wrote in today to express his disappointment that my only post about the Eric Rudolph saga was a link to Kelley's story about living in Atlanta while the bombs were going off. After all, FootballBatJim notes, there is a North Carolina connection in all this, too, and North Carolina is our homeland.

When the rest of you think of North Carolina, you probably think of two things: Mayberry and basketball. The basketball part, with great universities and office parks, and Mayberry, with Sherriff Andy, Deputy Fife, and folks who tend to keep voting Jesse Helms back into office just because it's fun to scare the hell out of the Yankees.

Jim and I grew up in Mayberry. This Eric Rudolph thing has me worried that you might think that's us. It isn't. Yes, Murphy, where Rudolph the Lizard-Eating Terrorist was nabbed, is in small-town North Carolina. And there were rednecks there who put signs in their windows, Forrest Gump-like, encouraging the evil man to "Run, Rudolph, Run" (as opposed to the Chuck Berry Christmas song, "Run, Run, Rudolph").

But that wasn't where we grew up. You see, the "basketball" part is in the middle of North Carolina, and the "Mayberry" parts are located east and west of those larger cities named after cigarette brands. So there are two Mayberrys (or is it Mayberries): the charming sun-kissed pastoral coast, and the dark, forbidding, evil mountains, where Eric Rudolph hid for years.

Jim and I are from the East.

To help the rest of you understand, here's a brief guide to telling the difference between the two rural thirds of North Carolina:

Famous fugitives from justice
Eastern NC: Blackbeard the Pirate
Western NC: Eric "Grizzly" Rudolph

Barbecue sauce
Eastern NC: Vinegar-based, with spices, as nature intended
Western NC: Some sort of heathen mixture based on Heinz 57

Local sporting legends
Eastern NC: Michael Jordan
Western NC: Richard Petty

Evil drug produced locally
Eastern NC: Tobacco
Western NC: Moonshine

Funky bohemian subculture
Eastern NC: Surfers on Hatteras and Wrightsville Beach
Western NC: Asheville artist communes

Rendezvous with greatness
Eastern NC: Wright brothers' first flight, 1903
Western NC: Dirty Dancing filmed there, 1987

Evening fun
Eastern NC: Beach music, margaritas, maybe even an oyster roast or a pig-pickin', depending on the season
Western NC: Squealing like a pig

* And why is FootballBatJim is my number one fan? Well, he reads my blog every day. He sends me cool pictures and stories that I can write about when I don't have a clue. He tells stories better than I can. Most importantly, he's a lifelong friend and a fun drinking buddy from my wilder youth. Heck, FootballBatJim's name comes from some of those escapades: "How f***ed up do you think things will get on this trip, Jim?" "More f***ed up than a football bat, Chipstah!" And so we did. Good times, great friend.

** Two words for you ladies who may want to replace FootballBatJim as my #1 fan: topless photos. I'm sure he'd understand.

2003-06-04T03:21:00.000-05:00

Orange alert

David at Sketches of Strain has warned me that he will be quoting me sometime soon. Remain vigilant.

2003-06-03T19:45:00.000-05:00

THE BLOGFATHER

Geoffrey Allen is one of the nicest people out there. We've traded e-mails and links since we started blogging a couple of months back, and now he's helping me get my own website away from this place so that he (and the rest of you) don't have to wait so long for the page to load (plus working permalinks, comments and all the other bells and whistles that I've heard folks mumbling about). The kindness of strangers has always amazed me, but today is one of the most amazing of those days.

Great guy. And a pretty great blog, too. Thanks again!

2003-06-03T02:04:00.000-05:00

Welcome, IMAO readers! Who needs linkage from certain "Tennessee-based puppy-blending, devil-worshipping, hobo-murdering, robot-dancing Communist tools" when you've got Frank! The "link of the day" post is here, and the movie post is here. And if the permalinks don't work, just scroll down. Yeah, I'm a Mac guy; yeah, I'm STILL on Blog*Spot; we can't all work in sexy fields like electrical engineering like Frank. Some of us have to toil in the boring, mundane, humdrum spice mines of the advertising world.

2003-06-03T02:01:00.000-05:00

To boldly go where Hans Blix says it's OK to go

The EU launched a Mars probe today. Interesting. Europe has a space program? Sure, they've got that Ariane rocket thingy we sometimes rent to loft HBO satellites into orbit when NASA's dance card is full, but a real program? To other planets and stuff?

Come on. I mean, this is the land of Blix, de Villepin, Schroeder, et al.; if they don't have the cojones to deal with evil a few hundred miles away (or even right next door in Bosnia), how in the heck are they going to explore the universe?

The countdown is on hold at T-minus-30 seconds, and will remain on hold until Monsieur Blix returns with another interim report in six weeks. And even then, we probably will still remain on hold until the final report is issued, debated and revised, the revisions are debated and approved and published, as according to the rules of international law, unlike certain English-speaking Jethro-oriented countries we could mention.

That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for TotalFinaElf.

Marseilles, we have a problem. Problem? Well, that is your problem, Monsieur, with your legacy of hegemony and capitalism. We live in a multi-polar world now, and while you think you may need help, there is a majority of people around the world who do not agree with you. Oh, wait, attendez un moment, you're a European spacecraft, very sorry. We will refer your suggestion to Brussels, where a blue-ribbon commission will be formed to study it at a top-level summit in Cannes next summer. Quoi? You have three days of oxygen left? Well, you should have thought to have brought more, I think, and you have just missed an excellent opportunity to shut up and learn from your betters.

Mars? Who cares about that sh**ty little planet except for Americans and Jews?

Klingons off the port bow, Captain. Raise shields and arm photon torpedoes? No, let's think about this... how can we be sure they are Klingons? And if they are, wouldn't defending ourselves merely reinforce the cycle of violence and prolong the imperialist legacy others have created? Klingon ship is arming phasers, sir, preparing to fire. And what of the totally legitimate dilithium contract TotalFinaElf has signed with the Klingons? Klingon ship is firing sir. Yes, but would those contracts not give us the leverage to exert a positive, more subtle and nuanced... boom.

Europeans in space? If this is the same crowd who gave us the "Force de Frappucino" and whose aircraft carrier can't go more than 20 miles from port without the propeller falling off, I'll believe it when I see it.

U P D A T E
According to Kelley, this thing is for real, and she even has a link to the webcast.

2003-06-03T01:59:00.000-05:00

Political branding

Quick! Right now, without looking anywhere else, try to name the Democratic presidential candidates in 30 seconds. Hint: Dominique "Wilkins" de Villepin and Janeane Garofalo are not candidates. Neither are Susan Sarandon or Barbara Streisand. Bonus hint: there are nine of them. Extra bonus hint: Hillary Clinton isn't, at least not yet. No, really. Yes, it's a fact, you can look it up.

OK, go!

No cheating!

Here's how I did, in the order they came to mind: Al Sharpton, John Kerry, Dick Gephardt, Joe Lieberman, Howard Dean, Dennis Kucinich, John Edwards, Carol Mosely-Braun, and, um, um, that Florida guy. OK, the ex-Senator Graham, who was kind of for the war. I keep wanting to say Lindsey, but he's the Senator from South Carolina who took Strom's place in the Senate. Let's just call him "Biff". Pretty good, but not perfect.

It's June, 2003, you say? Too early to know, you say? Poppycock. They've been out there raising money and nattering away on the talk shows, so we should have a clue about them by now. Only took four months from Clinton's announcement to us learning way more about him than we wanted to know, so we're even cutting them some slack.

Since I'm into branding, here's my take on the brands created so far for the nine candidates to date. And just to make it as true to the way most Democrats think, I'm going to do this by falling back on solely what I think about them already without any research, based on the random bits and pieces that have registered in my mind via the media:

Al Sharpton: Two words: Tawana Brawley. At least he's no longer wearing the track suits and Mr. T bling-bling, You get the feeling that if he ever won the presidency, he'd turn to someone and ask, "Holy s***! What do we do now?" If this country were really serious about boycotting France, we'd just co-opt Al to head it up. All we'd have to do is tell him what the French are actually doing in Africa.

John Kerry: Ketchup money, Boston, Vietnam, regime change, asshat, the nominee, looks like a very well-preserved mummy just before they wrap it. At least he's almost lifelike, which is a big improvement from Al "Night of the Living Dead (In Cinemascope, with EARTH TONES!)" Gore.

Dick Gephardt: "The beings on my home planet are very similar to you Earthlings, but we evolved beyond the need for eyebrows thousands of years ago." Rust Belt. Union flack. Trade war. Depression of '06.

Joe Lieberman: Wake up, WAKE UP!!!!!!!! Sleepy the dwarf. Droopy dog. Nyquil. Sominex. Only candidate who appears to live his faith.

Howard Dean: Ben and Jerry's. Granola. Make that whole wheat toast, since he said we needed to be nicer to creepy foreigners because we might not have the strongest military in the world one day. Not while Bush is president. Or living. Or in my lifetime, for that matter.

Dennis Kucinich: Wanna-be Dean. Wanna-be Paul Wellstone. Ohio. What the hell is a "Buckeye", anyway? The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland was pretty cool. Springer was a mayor there somewhere. Drew Carey. Oh, Kucinich? Why is it that I can spell this man's name correctly without checking?

John Edwards: From North Carolina, so he can't be all bad. But he is. Biggest fund-raiser. Trial lawyer. Can't watch him without that picture of a 16-year-old Clinton shaking JFK's hand popping into my head. The 16-year-old boy, not the President.

Carol Mosely-Braun: African-American. Woman. Not Sharpton. African-American. Woman. Not Sharpton. African-American. Woman. Not Sharpton. Senator. Jesse Helms used to hum the song "Dixie" whenever the two shared an elevator.

"Biff" Graham: For the war, and not in a wuss-like way like the rest of the candidates, either. Senator. Florida. Vice Presidential candidate, just to make sure Florida doesn't repeat itself this time around. STILL can't remember his first name. Howard? Bill? Jeff? Skippy? Orlando? Ramón? Yoshihiro? Heinrich? Giuseppe? Scooter? Boutros-Boutros? Jean-Luc? Obi-Wan?

Not good at all. And just to make it clear how desperate the Dems' prospects really are, at this point in 1999, we already knew about Dubya's record, policy positions, and even the alleged running around in his youth.

Analysis: in 2004, the DNC won't be clamoring for a recount, they'll be yelling for a do-over.

2003-06-03T01:58:00.000-05:00

Daily deadline

Silly me. I've been writing about and linking to the Pamela Anderson "Pillow Fight" sequel to the "Catfight" ad for two months now, and it is only hitting the actual airwaves now. No, not on Fox News, silly; try ESPN SportsCenter. Remember, one third of "Democracy! Whiskey! Sexy!" is SEXY!

2003-06-03T01:57:00.000-05:00

Cleveland nerve pinch

Separated at birth: Dennis Kucinich and Mr. Spock! Sad that only one of them got the logic gene, though.

2003-06-03T01:56:00.000-05:00

Cinema verité

Remember my post last week about Woody Allen as the spokesperson for French tourism in America? (Well, then, click here or just scroll down to the post titled "Publicité", featuring a picture of a carrot and a woman on two adjacent billboards, you'll know it when you see it)

It's for real. Details and a wickedly funny fisking of it over at Misha's place.

Big angry dogs, deadly slithering serpents. Makes me wonder -- if we on the right tend to name our blogs after vicious beasts, then do leftie bloggers name theirs after cuddly teddy bears, unicorns, and other sickeningly sweet animals by way of contrast? Just musing.

2003-06-03T01:45:00.000-05:00

Blogrolling really works!

I had heard about this Carnival of the Vanities thing, but never looked at it for some reason (no, I don't know why, momentary brain freeze, perhaps) until the crew over at Common Sense and Wonder blogrolled me. The Carnival... what a great idea for highlighting interesting blogs! Pretty good blog producing it, too. Have to love any site that features a P.J. O'Rourke quote up on the masthead:

"Whatever it is that government does, sensible Americans would prefer that the government do it to someone else. This is the idea behind foreign policy."

And a timely one as well.

Longtime (in 'net time) correspondent D.F. now has a new blog out as well. Smart guy, and he's in Athens, Georgia, so you know he's got to be up on the music thing. Athens is Chapel Hill, but with better football and worse basketball. Can't have it all.

2003-06-03T01:31:00.001-05:00

WWF Smackdown in Watertown postgame

Lots of stories about the summit, here, here, here and here.

Unfortunately, none of them has any news about the President putting Jacques "Le Mad Weasel" Chirac in a full Nelson or doing the piledriver off the ropes with him. Pity.

Even more of a pity that Dubya was too cool to make frowny faces at our "allies" in public. Frowning duty fell to Tony Blair:

There's a reason why he's the only Socialist most of us will ever admire.

The French did not neglect their duties as gracious hosts, though, and did provide us with a little red meat. Not a lot, and certainly not enough to fill a bowl (just checking to see if any of the Dallas crew from Saturday night were reading this), unfortunately, but an FDA-approved portion of red meat nonetheless:

"I have no doubt whatsoever that the multipolar vision of the world that I've discussed many times is supported by a large majority of countries in the world."

Jackie, we know the dictators like you. You don't have to keep bringing it up. It isn't helping.

Chirac hugged or embraced many other participants, including U.N. chief Kofi Annan and leaders of a dozen developing nations he had invited to give the "rich men's club" an alternative view of the planet's economic development needs.

Only an embrace? Rather chaste, considering what your buddy Dominique "Wilkins" de Villepin was doing under the table four months ago.

With the U.S. fighting for free trade and actually doing something about AIDS in Africa, what, pray tell, is the "alternative view"? Even more kickbacks to Third World despots from TotalFinaElf? What IS their slogan, again? TotalFinaElf: Chaque Fois, Un Reach-Around?

Chirac said that he nevertheless "met with President Bush in a very positive manner, looking at possible solutions to the problems we've encountered."

As long as those solutions don't involve anything actually being done or anything that might conceivably benefit the United States, of course, because, hey, it's a multipolar vision of le monde.

Bench-warmer stuff, really, though. I expected more from the French. Something like not giving Bush a chair to sit in until he demonstrates where the WMD are right now, letting Michael Moore sit in Bush's chair after Bush left early, or not serving Dubya in the buffet line until he refers to les frites as FRENCH fries, but no dice on any of it. Freakin' diplomats. No fun.

At least it wasn't on pay-per-view; then I would have really felt ripped off.

2003-06-03T01:31:00.000-05:00

To protect and serve

Now that the Slutpublican party has faded away, the venomous (but strangely warm-blooded) Kate has tapped me to serve as Presidential Image Guru/Strategist of the rival Slutertarian Party. I asked her to change my title to Secretary of Public Exposure, but I haven't heard back yet. Something about vodka and #$%&! RSS feeds and OPML files, whatever the heck they are.

2003-06-03T01:30:00.001-05:00

A world of laughter, a world of tears

Turns out that Kelley and I lived about a mile apart in Atlanta a few years ago.

Which means we were both there for all the bombings. She has a great post on what it felt like to be in an American city touched by terror years before 9/11. So great, in fact, that I can't think of much that I would add.

I also agree that Eric Rudolph should fry. Terrorists are terrorists. Muslim, Christian, fundamentalist, whatever, evil is evil, and should be dispatched quickly and publicly. Pour encourager les autres.

2003-06-03T01:30:00.000-05:00

Two-fisted PETA action

One man's stand for grocery store free-range lobsters.

The logic flaw in this argument is quite obvious, since the lobsters' next destination is a pot of boiling water. But the prospect of suburban shoppers being forced to battle giant clawed crustaceans in the meat section of Tom Thumb is rather amusing.

2003-06-03T01:28:00.000-05:00

The Condi Strikes Back

Episode II of IMAO's epic saga In My World: Black Project Insano is out. Lintuvia is no more (there goes my trip to Hawai'i), Empress Condi reveals her plans, Buck the Marine finds himself on another world, Laura Bush does the laundry, Michael Moore gets eaten (a definite change of pace for him), and the Fox Reporter puts her clothes back on, sadly. Choice quotes:

"I hear ya, Buck. This is the president of the United States, George Dubya, but, as long as we're using the radio, refer to me by my CB handle: Porn Star."

"Empress Condoleezza! All shall love me and despair!" She then paused for a second. "I mean, all worlds will be united under the protection of the U.S.A.," she said meekly, sitting back down.

"That... that is the craziest thing I've ever heard. Who, by the way, told you such a crazy thing, because I would like to meet that person and say, 'Hey, you're one silly person.'"

"Has France the technology to appease evil dictators in alternate dimensions?"

"Greetings, alien creatures," Buck responded, "I am Buck the Marine from the planet America. I come in peace, but, as you see, I am well armed in case non-peace breaks out."

Great stuff. Read the whole thing.

U P D A T E
If we're turning the column into a movie, then we've gotta have a video game (I'm partial to PS2, but Frank loves his Gamecube, so we'll go there first). And I think we've found the right guys to write it.

U P D A T E
Alert readers have suggested that Frank over at IMAO may have lifted the term "cyborg ninja monkey zombies" from a post I did last week about Al-Qaeda threats to the US involving squads of "elite mutant ninja cyborg pirate commando monkeys" that even linked to IMAO.

Well, I know Frank has read this blog at least once, but in these days of real screwiness in the major media (click here for extreme detail), I prefer to think of this as coincidence at best, "inspiration" at worst.

U P D A T E
As Frank would probably tell you himself if he ever answered his e-mail, there is also a tremendous difference between his "cyborg ninja monkey zombies" and my "elite mutant ninja cyborg pirate commando monkeys".

Sure, both are cyborg monkeys, and mistaking one for the other is a common mistake. But Frank's creatures are zombies, the very definition of the walking dead, while mine are alive. Mine are elite mutants, while Frank's are just your run of the mill average everyday cyborg ninja monkey zombies, not special forces types.

The "ninja" descriptor is a bit misleading. As readers of The Official Ninja Webpage are already aware, ninjas are the ultimate paradox. On the one hand, they don't give a crap, but on the other, ninjas are very careful and precise. But I digress.

Ninja cognoscenti are also aware that ninjas and pirates are also sworn enemies, even if (perhaps especially if) the pirate has lasers and everything. So two of the descriptors of my evil monkeys, ninja and pirate, cancel each other out.

Which begs the deeper philosophical issue: in a fight, who would win? Frank's cyborg ninja monkey zombies or my my elite mutant cyborg commando monkeys? Look for the answer on an upcoming very special episode of PBS' "Nova", brought to you by a grant from the Mobil Corporation, the Chubb Group, and the financial support of viewers like you who respond to free totebag offers like Pavlov's dog.

U P D A T E
The meds are kicking in nicely; thanks for asking!

2003-06-03T01:02:00.000-05:00

Embrace the suck

Sounds like Monica Lewinsky has another job lined up after "Mr. Personality" ends.

2003-06-02T15:25:00.000-05:00

Acid reflux

If you don't blog, you probably don't care about this, but I felt the need to comment. "Acidman" is quitting blogging. Bitterness serves no one and corrodes everything it touches, so good riddance to "Acidman"'s mean-spirited, unthinking, foul-mouthed rubbish (details here and here). This is supposed to be fun, and life is just too darn short to be as consumed by hate and envy as Acidman seems to be. Kate has proven herself to be a good person and a friend, and she rocks. The end.

2003-05-31T05:19:00.000-05:00

IMAO: The Motion Picture

WOW. Frank at IMAO IS a brilliant creative mind, and I've worked with some darn good ones, at least in the ad world. I have a little idea like using Jenna Jameson as the Fox Reporter in Frank's latest opus, In My World: Black Project Insano, and he turns it into an idea for a whole movie. THAT, my friends, is a creative leap. I. Am. Not. Worthy.

Two parts have already been cast, Jenna Jameson as the Fox Reporter, and Frank's choice, Patrick "Puddy" Warburton, as Buck the Marine.

So what about the rest of the film?

President Bush: Owen Wilson

My first thought was Will Farrell from SNL, but some folks in our core target market might be alienated by his portrayal of Dubya as, well, a little bit slow.

Besides, you really need a Texan in the role to get the accent right. Tommy Lee Jones would be great, but he's a bit old, and besides, he was Al Gore's roommate at Harvard. Matthew McConaughey is younger and is Texan, but he puts off a bit too much of a chick-flick vibe.

Owen Wilson is Texan, he has the star power for the role, and most importantly, he has the right blend of action hero (Starsky & Hutch, I Spy) and comic goofiness (Zoolander) to pull off the role perfectly.

Donald Rumsfeld: Robert De Niro

De Niro knows how to play Washington from Wag The Dog, and is the ultimate movie dark killer/quipster, from Taxi Driver to The Godfather Part II to Goodfellas: "You talkin' to ME, Reporter? You talkin' to ME?!?!?!?! RAWWRRRRR!!!"

We considered Jason from the Friday the 13th movies and Robert Englund of "Freddy Krueger" fame, but this role does require speaking. Occasionally.

Condoleeza Rice: Halle Berry

The role calls for a Terminatrix-style character, and who better than the T-X herself, Kristanna Loken? Unfortunately, she's just too darn blonde to pull it off. We also considered Jada Pinkett Smith from the Matrix movies: an actual African-American, kicks butt, and looks darn good in that leather and latex, but we need her to finish the Matrix series.

Halle can play tough, she's seductive as well, and she has the Oscar. No question, really.

Dick Cheney: Earl Hindman

Wilson, from the "Home Improvement" TV show. Who better to play the man whose face you never see anyway?

We also considered Bruce Willis since he does top the list of right-wing celebrities at Right We Are!, but he has a history of getting out of tight spaces, and we can't have that.

Speaking of right-wingers, we considered former Senator Fred Thompson as well: gravitas, certainly right wing, not as ambulatory as Bruce, and sure to get us a good review from Glenn Reynolds, but Frank's low opinion of Glenn as a "a puppy-blending, Satan-worshipping, hobo-murdering, robot-dancing Communist spy" kind of rules that out. Plus, Fred's got a great accent, and it would be a shame to make him change it.

And if we do need to actually show Cheney, then we go to James Gandolfini, since he's pretty much killing time instead of working on The Sopranos like he should be doing, darn it.

Colin Powell: Paul Winfield

Most of you were thinking of James Earl Jones, but Vader-voice has a bit too much presence for the role. In countless movies, including the original Terminator and Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan, Winfield always seems to play the semi-liberal bureaucratic government functionary who seeks to preserve the status quo in defiance of all logic. The status quo falls apart anyway, leaving our heroes to clean up the mess during the rest of the film, while Winfield sputters in grief, then smiles at the end when he realizes that he was wrong to hold back early on and is grateful for the heroes kicking ass (and saving his). Heck, he even played this role as an Ambassador in a Middle East country in the Fred Dryer vehicle (yes, "Hunter" actually made a movie) Death Before Dishonor (one of those Golan/Globus B-level action movies from the mid-80s that always had a nice thing or two to say about the Mossad for some reason).

Besides, Colin Powell is a supporting role, and we probably couldn't get James Earl Jones to come on for that. Better to save him for the "prequel" series of films, such as Gulf War I: The Phantom Victory, when the Powell role will require a more commanding presence.

Laura Bush: Patricia Heaton

I know we'd all like to see a babe, but this role calls for a mom. And Patricia is more than just the most popular mom on TV: she's a Republican, AND a devout Christian. She is Laura!

And since Patricia plays a Long Island housewife on "Raymond", we'll probably get some coverage from Michele as an added bonus.

Ari Fleischer: Keanu Reeves

Has experience with action movies, even more experience playing the "dude", and even worked bald in the first Matrix film. The Wachowski brothers don't really need him for the third Matrix anymore, anyhow, now that computer technology can produce a better Keanu as an actor than the real Keanu.

Tom Daschle: Joe Pesci

If De Niro's playing Rumsfeld, we've gotta get Pesci in here somewhere. Also a good fit with Daschle's loud, stupid voice and general impotence. Remember the Lethal Weapon movies? Pesci would be perfect as Daschle: "They f**k you with the tax cut. Every time I try to do something, they f**k you with the tax cut."

If we need a more menacing presence for the Senate Minority Leader, someone whose very smile "scares small children", I suggest Christopher Walken. He is that kind of scary. Of course, if his politics don't permit him to participate, James Woods can also project that evil when needed to, and his politics are solid. Heck, he was reporting the 9/11 terrorists to the FBI when they were doing their practice runs!

Helen Thomas: Yoda

We can't reproduce Helen Thomas' mix of short, grizzled, gnarly fleshiness in nature, so we're going to have to go to Frank Oz and the boys at Industrial Light and Magic. Something like a Yoda-Jabba The Hutt mix, with Tammy Faye makeup. Maybe E.T., if Spielberg comes down on the price.

Since this is a feature film, we may need to add a few supporting characters to flesh out some of the scenes. This isn't Air Force One or the Hunt for Red October, after all.

Tony Blair: Kenneth Branagh

All we need him to do is reprise his role from Henry V, and we're there.

If Kenny's a bit too much a Labourite for the role, then Ewan McGregor. Impeccable credentials as a Ranger in Black Hawk Down and as a Jedi. Plus, his Trainspotting experience gives him insight into the kind of shady younger days you'd like to forget that should help him bond with the Bush character.

Dictator of Lintuvia: Mike Myers

This role is still ill-defined, so why not get the real Dr. Evil?

I'm sure he'd be happy to help just for comedy tips from Frank. And he'd also good for casting the ~~monkey~~ animal scenes. If they aren't mutant and ill-tempered, they don't make it onto the set.

If Mike doesn't quite scream EEEEEE-vil on screen, then who better to play a dictator on film than an evil film director? We'll be filming in wide-screen letterbox, so Michael Moore is do-able. And if the budget's tight, we just kidnap Oliver Stone for a couple of days. He'll be so whacked out that he won't even remember the shoot, anyway.

By the way, where will we be shooting the Lintuvia scenes, anyway? I say Hawaii (or Haw'aii, Hawai'i, or whatever the PC term is). Still in America, they also shoot Baywatch there, and if you're going to film on location, I say go somewhere nice that doesn't speak that weird froggy language. Plus, Kate would probably be happy to do location scouting for us. We can't sleep on her couch, though, because she just finished spring cleaning and boys would just track dirt all over the place.

If Kate gets too venomous, there's also Australia, stalwart ally, home of the Matrix, land of kangaroos and beer in really large cans. Tim Blair says film companies are ditching Arab countries in favor of the land down under left and right, and we'd be returning the favor our Aussie friends showed us during the war by accelerating the trend.

The dictator-to-be-named-later's cohorts in the combined Axis of Evil Weasels:

Jacques Chirac: Steve Buscemi

Short, usually slicks back his hair, and you instantly know he's scheming about something.

Plus, he was in Fargo, which should guarantee some kind of coverage from Lileks. I mean, the guy devotes a huge chunk of his site to thirty-year-old Midwestern matchbook covers; how could he ignore this?

Dominique "Wilkins" de Villepin: Lambert Wilson

"The Merovingian" from the Matrix sequel. I know, I've argued sometimes that the real French Foreign Minister is actually Agent Smith, but this is the movies, and we need someone who conveys de Villepin's essential French cultural smugness in a nanosecond. Who better than the guy who gave us the immortal line, "Cursing in French is like wiping your a** with silk"?

W at Merde In France can help out with the French bad words.

Osama and Saddam: Zombie extras

Go for realism, I say. "Brains, must feed on brains, we're dead and we have no braaaaaaiiiiins..."

Kim Jong Il: Yoshi Suzuki

The Asian Elvis. Switch out the jumpsuit for a Members Only jacket, get him to make meaningless random threats, and we're there. For added realism, we could picture him always noshing on the national dish of North Korea, bark chimichangas.

We'll also need some extras for the crowd scenes, especially in the press room. I say we go with Heather Graham as Jennifer Eccleston, and Jeri Ryan as Laurie Dhue (they have the same lips), Farrah Fawcett as E.D. Hill (the hair), Jolene Blalock as token Fox brunette Catherine Herridge, exiled somewhere in Canada covering the SARS epidemic, and Anna Nicole Smith as Rita Cosby.

Other backup Fox reporters in the crowd? Charlize Theron, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Kristanna Loken, Cameron Diaz, Pamela Anderson, Tory Mussett (the Matrix "cake girl"), and if that isn't enough, call in the fembots from the Austin Powers movies. If we've got Mike reprising Dr. Evil here, getting the 'bots should be a snap.

Should Fox decide to greenlight the movie, we'd probably be able to use the real anchors and save a boatload of money.

We will need a bit of balance in the "press corps", though, and with the way MSNBC seems to be dumping shrink-wrapped blondes for prettier brunettes ever since the war started, we'll need to find some of our own, perhaps Denise Richards, J-Lo, Gina Gershon, Monica Bellucci, Lucy Liu, and Kelly Hu.

To direct, I'd love to get the Wachowski Brothers, but they have to finish the Matrix series, and I think we all agree that they should not be distracted or disturbed while they finish their myth-making for our generation. Besides, we need a little bit of humor in this, so maybe Ben Stiller is our guy. He seems like he'd probably be a lot of fun to hang out with, and that's important when you're spending months on the set. In between takes, he could tell us jokes about how big an asshat Janeane Garofalo really is.

Of course, if Mike Myers is playing Dr. Evil, then we could just go with him.

We should try to get some blogosphere help on the set, too. Say, Andrew Sullivan for fact-checking and continuity, Mark Steyn for music consulting, Bill Whittle to adapt the two-hour movie into a mass-market paperback (we'll hire Tom Clancy to help him keep it under a thousand pages), and Jay Solo as unit publicist.

Finally, we have to come up with a "code name" for the script and the movie while it's in production, or else some chubby fanboy dude down in Austin will spill the beans before we're done and put the script on the web. All the cool movies, especially the Wachowski brothers' films, have secret names; The Matrix: Reloaded was called "Burly Brawl" on the script and around the set, and "Bound" was referred to during filming as "Jennifer Tilly and Gina Gershon Get It On". If it's good enough for the Wachowskis, it's good enough for us. My suggestion?

"Monkey Love"

Everyone knows how much Frank loathes monkeys, so nobody will ever connect it with IMAO. And the "love" will make people think it's some kind of sappy romance film, not a action-pumping, bullet-ridden epic adventure humor thrill ride like In My World: Black Project Insano will certainly be.

If there are leaks, we change the code name to "SpongeBob Scrappleface". Frank may go a bit crazy at first, but nobody will suspect a thing.

Let's do lunch, babe. I'll have my people call your people.

U P D A T E
Kelley suggests Dennis Hopper for the Rummy role. Hopper does look more like the SecDef, and he definitely can play the unhinged menacing presence. Don't count De Niro out because of appearance, though; the man is a pro and knows how to work it. Tough call.

I'm still trying to get my comments feature to play nice with Blog*Spot, so if you have thoughts and suggestions, please feel free to e-mail me or comment on Frank's board.

2003-05-31T05:18:00.000-05:00

4th sign of the apocalypse

First comes the Hello Kitty "female personal massager", and now there's a Winnie the Pooh model.

I will not make a tasteless crack about Winnie and the honeypot, I will not make a tasteless crack about Winnie and his honeypot, I will not make a tasteless crack about Winnie and his honeypot, I will not... but then I did. Just too good to pass up. Sorry.

U P D A T E
This is why we fight. The glorious dynamism of Western culture and all the unexpected forms it takes. You never hear stories about female "marital aids" patterned after cartoon characters out of, say, Iran or Saudi Arabia, now, do you? Are they forbidden in the Koran alongside barbecue? Come to think of it, you never hear much about cartoons, or sex, or toys, or women, or culture, or dynamism out that part of the world on their own, much less put together. No wonder the Baghdadis were dancing in the streets. Democracy! Whiskey! Sexy!

U P D A T E
Someone (OK, me) just reminded me of a great P.J. O'Rourke quote on this from Gulf War 1:

"It's Valentine's Day, time for romance... We've been trying to figure out what Saudi Arabian sex toys would be -- edible veils? Inflatable plastic airline tickets to Europe? But in a country where a man may have as many as four wives, the most popular marital aid is probably ear plugs."

Give War a Chance: Eyewitness Accounts of Mankind's Struggle Against Tyranny, Injustice and Alcohol-Free Beer, 1992

2003-05-31T05:16:00.000-05:00

It's my blog and I'll write what I want to

Quit beating around the bush and tell us what you really think, Kate! Personally, I rather enjoy the refreshingly direct cool crisp taste of the bite, but that's just me. Don't like it, then don't read it. All part of what we're fighting for.

2003-05-31T05:01:00.000-05:00

Correction

From somewhere in the South, Mike writes in to inform us that "In The Heat Of The Night" (Mom's favorite show, go figure) in this post about the superiority of Dallas-based TV detectives, is set in Sparta, Mississippi, not Sparta, Alabama. Sorry, Mike, I am ashamed to call myself a Southerner; I will be turning in my Jeff Foxworthy tapes and Moon Pies at the earliest possible convenience.

But just to make sure the rest of you know that I'm not some sort of Jayson Blair or something, I actually have been to both Alabama AND Mississippi. OK, driven through, on my way to Virginia from Dallas for the holidays. Twice. Mainly because I found that Tennessee, while pretty, is an extremely l o n g state to drive through. And with IMAO's fatwa on Glenn Reynolds, I wanted to stay as far away from Knoxville as I could.

Not too much difference between Alabama and Mississippi along I-20 that I could see, though. Both states have pine trees. Both states have Cracker Barrels. Both states have lots of billboards for casinos. I did like Alabama more; they had a Mercedes factory, while Mississippi had lots of highway patrolmen hiding behind bushes with radar guns. Maybe that's what made me forget; speed traps have a way of giving you tunnel vision.

2003-05-30T18:48:00.000-05:00

Prudence pays off

Back to yellow. Thanks for your vigilance!

U P D A T E
And now Homeland Security has time to clear up this mess. There are a lot of jokes that end with "...then the terrorists have won", but if we don't have fireworks on the 4th, it doesn't look good for us. You're supposed to be at war, guys; quit being bureaucrats.

2003-05-30T18:43:00.000-05:00

IronyFest™ preseason continues

If this keeps up, France may have a fight on its hands if it wants to repeat as world champions. The Dems are showing surprising strength, even from bench-warmers like the Bush-whacked Janet Reno! Janet's drive to the first string began today when she compared the GOP to the Third Reich in vision-impaired Palm Beach:

One part of Reno's speech, which touched upon issues such as classroom sizes, health care and the criminal justice system, seemed to speak directly to Goldfarb. Reno spoke about visiting the Dachau concentration camp in Germany as a child and learning what had happened.

"I went back and asked my adult German friends, 'How could you let that happen?' " Reno said. "They said, 'We just stood by.' "

She looked right into the the audience and told them that's why she was there. She had no intention of just standing by. "And don't you just stand by," Reno said.

First, there's the obvious liberal overkill, equating Medicare, the death penalty, and local school funding to the deliberate extermination of 12 million people (6 million Jews). Stupid, but no different from Indymedia or anything we've heard on the streets of San Francisco, but not All-Star material by itself.

No, for this to qualify, you have to consider the source: Janet Reno, who did what she had to do at Waco, sure, but sending in troops and tanks to burn a religious group's place to the ground is a lot closer to Kristallnacht than any kind of philosophical disagreement over how old people should pay for their medication.

Now, consider the source again, and remember the screams from Calle Ocho in Míamí: "ELIAN! EEEELLLLIIIIANNNN!!!" Based on what horsey-woman said and did in the Elian case, you could easily see her doing the same thing with a Jewish child from Poland back in 1941:

"Well, they might be a bad regime, and we don't support some of the things Chancellor Hitler might be doing, but those are the internal affairs of the German government and the German people, a boy belongs with his dad, even if he is in the SS, and who are we to judge or interfere, anyway, so we had to send in the Delta Force to get him out of his bedroom."

An asshat, sure, but a great dancer, from what we hear, and truly IronyFest™ Prime-Time-Player material. Reno for Veep in '04!

2003-05-30T17:59:00.000-05:00

So true, so true...

Darn it, I just like these quiz things. Who needs a shrink or a focus group?

You are The Twins, from "The Matrix."
Bad, but with a sexy streak- surprisingly
refreshing. You know what you want, when you
want it.
What Matrix Persona Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
via our linky lady right-wing conspirator friends

2003-05-30T16:43:00.000-05:00

OBVIOUSLY A MAJOR MALFUNCTION

Mystery solved; the comments feature was mucking up the system. Sounds like a fun weekend project; hopefully comments will return by Monday.

2003-05-30T15:22:00.000-05:00

Yin and yang, you decide

I've been a longtime fan of IMAO's "In My World" columns/fantasies about what's really going on at the White House, and this week's column, "Black Project Insano", is a classic. Made me wonder what the heck Frank is doing as an engineer in real life; he could make a ton of money in Hollywood or as an advertising copywriter.

Anyway, the column has everything you could ask for. Prank calling Chirac. Rumsfeld off his leash. World Domination. Helen Thomas-taunting. The return of Buck the Marine, accompanied by cogent commentary on tax policy.

Best of all, he finally matches the Fox Reporter character's bloodthirstiness with the sexiness we've all come to love from our newsreaders on the Fair and Balanced network:

"Now you're just being mean," Ari said angrily, "and... and... are you wearing a bikini?"

"Producer's idea; these press conferences don't get very good ratings." She then listened to something coming in from her earpiece. "No I'm not going to jump up and down when I ask questions!"

No wonder the column is so brilliant. The yin (the bloodthirsty neocon warmongering I share) and the yang (the beauty of Laurie Dhue and her pals that I adore). The universe is in alignment.

Also brought to mind a possible "actress" to play the character, since, hey, Jenna needs a job and Frank says he's single:

We've been talking about our Fox friends for quite some time right here, of course, so let's review a few of the different memes our Fox friends connect with for you new readers:

OK, you got me, I just wanted to get a picture of Laurie Dhue back up here. So shoot me.

2003-05-30T15:21:00.000-05:00

WWF Smackdown in Watertown!

The Évian summit. Bush and Chirac, in the same room at the same time... this is gonna be fun.

The ever-helpful Frank over at IMAO has some great tips for the President as he goes into what must be a very sensitive negotiation. A couple of my favorites:

* Start by working the body. You'll want to start slow, which means a series of punches to his gut.

* Make sure to build up some momentum before smashing his head into the wall. You'll need some good momentum to leave a nice impression in the drywall.

* This isn't boxing; all blows are legal. Some may say it's unsporting to go for the groin, but I say it makes a nice finale after you've thoroughly beaten him through other means.

President Bush will likely be hearing the French National anthem, la Marseillaise, quite a bit the nest couple of days. As Dubya is a righteous Texas cowboy who prefers Spanish as his second language since he can actually use it out on the range, I thought I'd translate it into English for him:

Allons enfants de la Patrie/Arise, children of the fatherland
Le jour de gloire est arrivé!/The day of glory has arrived!
Contre nous de la tyrannie/Against us tyranny's
L'étendard sanglant est levé/Bloody standard is raised

Who knew the French were such big fans of Victor Davis Hanson?

Entendez-vous dans nos campagnes/Listen to the sound in the fields
Mugir ces féroces soldats?/The howling of these ferocious soldiers?
Ils viennent jusque dans vos bras./They are coming into our midst
Égorger vos fils, vos compagnes!/To slit the throats of your sons and consorts!

The jihadis in the Sarcelles 'hood calling for shari'a Islamic law in the Paris suburbs are a few hundred miles away, so you'll have to listen pretty closely when the music stops.

Aux armes citoyens/To arms, citizens!
Formez vos bataillons/Form your battalions
Marchons, marchons.../Let's march, let's march...
Qu'un sang impur/Until their impure blood
Abreuve nos sillons/Fertilizes our fields

Sounds more like Buck the Marine than anything representative of France, its goverment, or 92% of its people. This would be much a more appropriate tune for Président Chirac. And if that doesn't work, maybe they can translate John Lennon's "Imagine".

2003-05-30T15:18:00.000-05:00

Buffy the Aussie Cockpit Slayer

Life imitates Monty Python:

Sgt.: Right. Now,self-defence. Tonight I shall be carrying on from where we got to last week when I was showing you how to defend yourselves against anyone who attacks you with armed with a piece of fresh fruit...
Sgt.: What's wrong with fruit? You think you know it all, eh?
Palin: Can't we do something else?
Idle: Like, er, someone who attacks you with a pointed stick?
Sgt.: Pointed stick? Oh, oh, oh. We want to learn how to defend ourselves against pointed sticks, do we? Getting all high and mighty, eh? Fresh fruit not good enough for you eh? Well I'll tell you something my lad. When you're walking home tonight and some great homicidal maniac comes after you with a bunch of loganberries, don't come crying to me! Now, the passion fruit. When your assailant lunges at you with a passion fruit...

I agree with Instapundit's take on this: "You can't hijack a plane anymore, because the passengers won't allow it."

This is why American must now upgrade me on every flight. I'm not just Executive Platinum, I'm now Junior Deputy Sky Marshal Chipstah, and I don't care about the free drinks -- I need that seat because I'm on patrol, protecting you and your beverage cart, Miss Passive-Aggressive Ashleigh Banfield/Chris Jansing Clone!

2003-05-30T15:15:00.001-05:00

Blogworld update

As readers of the comments know by now, blog sista Kate does have a sister, who even lives in Texas. But we're told that this sister does not share the Venom Queen's brilliant political philosophy, the sister in question just got got off her meds, and she's 13 years older than I am. Can't win 'em all.

And if anyone outside this competition even cares, Maripat is ahead of Jay. You go, girl.

2003-05-30T15:15:00.000-05:00

Vanguard of the proletariat smackdown

Lileks gives us the most succinct indictment of Communism and (by implication) its leftist handmaidens, Socialism, liberalism, and political correctness, that I've seen in a long time:

The execution of the children was the event that established the character of the regime. Yes, yes, regicide was often accompanied by such atrocities, but this was the 20th century. Why, this was the birth of Scientific Socialism. There is nothing so powerful as an idea has time has come!

But just in case it’s not that powerful yet, let’s shoot the little girls.

Brilliant. (hat tip: Instapundit, as if he needs it)

2003-05-29T20:18:00.000-05:00

Feedback loop

Regular readers may have noticed the little "yo" links underneath the posts today. These are comments, a way for you to comment about my thing here without having to go to all the difficulty of moving your mouse three inches to the left and clicking my e-mail link. It should be fun, so enjoy, but be nice. OK, semi-nice. OK, at least witty and charming when you rank me out, or I will start spewing venom with little regard for the innocent.

Big thanks to Maripat and Lori for bugging me to do this for at least a month, and even bigger thanks to Jay, who was nice enough to help me make the thing actually work.

Why haven't I been posting today? Enetation said getting up and running would take three minutes. Three minutes, using the same time scale as Gilligan Island's "three hour tour" until it actually worked correctly. Now it's done, so enjoy. I'm going to have a beer.

2003-05-29T20:16:00.000-05:00

Never-ending curtain call

Bill Clinton, ticking me off yet again:

I think since people are living much longer ... the 22nd Amendment should probably be modified to say two consecutive terms instead of two terms for a lifetime.

No, two terms isn't enough, is it, and neither is your wife in the Senate, I guess, nor is her possible presidential run; you still want more. I bet Bill even asked Ted Kennedy if he was going to eat all his french fries at that Kennedy Center dinner, too.

The former president said such a change probably wouldn't apply to him but would benefit future generations.

Typical. Just like the man said he wore briefs, but liked boxers. Smoked pot, but didn't inhale. Didn't have sexual relations with "that woman", but the other kind of hummer didn't count. Didn't do anything with that Whitewater investment, but it isn't worth looking at, because he lost money anyway. Didn't fire those travel office people, just got rid of a few Bush people. Etc., etc., etc.

There may come a time when we elect a president at age 45 or 50, and then 20 years later the country comes up against the same kind of problems the president faced before," he said. "People would like to bring that man or woman back but they would have no way to do so.

Don't worry so much. When all external threats to this country have been extinguished and we're entering an economic recovery and we've had over a decade of one party in the White House and we need somebody to stand around, schmooze, and take credit for not really doing anything, we're sure the Secret Service has your number. Don't call us, we'll call you.

Monica's ex-boyfriend also let us in on his personal life:

Because of my upbringing, I had a particular tolerance for it that made it easier for me to survive,

Growing up in Hot Springs when it was controlled by the Mob in the '50s and '60s will do that to a fella.

Boy Wonder also parceled out love tips for those contemplating spontaneous romantic gestures while at the office:

How you're supposed to keep sort of centered in an almost Zen-like state, no matter what the incoming fire is, so that you can do first every day for the eight years... That's the one thing I think is almost impossible to capture for an outsider, just the way it all happens at once.

For somebody who supposedly reviles greed, the ex-President sure does show a lot of it. 8 years of power is enough for any normal man to be happy with, even extraordinary men like Washington, Jefferson, and Reagan. As for you, Bill,

You have sat too long for any good you have been doing. Depart, I say, and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go!

-- Leo Amery, 1940

2003-05-29T20:08:00.000-05:00

A river in Egypt near where many of the terrorists grew up

Sure, we're hearing a lot from al-Qaeda lately. Bombings in their home country, not ours, two weeks ago, threats on Norway last week, threats to our water supply this week.

We're on orange alert, but I think the baddies are on the run, and all this is demonstrating how impotent they are now that we're turning over the rocks these bugs have been hiding under. The more we pursue them, the more shrill and silly their threats will become.

The Onion wrote about al-Qaeda turning to telemarketing a while back, which got me to thinking about a few other things that al-Qaeda will be threatening as the noose draws ever tighter:

Inflitrating America's fast food restaurants so that no drive-thru attendant will speak English, thereby frustrating the Crusaders in their evil drive for world domination and chicken nuggets

Sending over a crack squad of trained drivers to America to drive really slow in the fast lane, jamming the gears of American commerce

And then having them always park their cars at malls and office buildings so that they take up two spaces instead of one, reminding us of who's the boss while wasting more fuel searching for an open space, binding our destiny ever-tighter to the will of degenerate ex-Bedouin tribesmen

And have them install expensive stereos in those cars so they can play them really loud so that everyone feels the bass beat of Snoop Dogg's latest oeuvre, interrupting our planning of conquest while idling at traffic lights

Begging people to repeatedly link you in order to drive your "influence ranking" higher on some website, tying up the web and making the words of the imperialist Rumsfeld even harder to find

Getting jobs as bartenders and then ignoring people unless they whip out the cash or (if female) show a little cleavage, teaching the degenerate drunkards and non-burka-wearing hussies a lesson as they wait for their vile alcohol and filthy bacon-topped potato skins

Sending a squad of elite mutant ninja cyborg pirate commando monkeys to attack the homes of certain engineers in the Greater Melbourne, Florida area (the elite squad, too, not just some ordinary grouping of mutant ninja cyborg pirate commando monkeys)

Get telephones with numbers that don't show up on Caller ID, call people, and then never leave a message, thereby using the imperialist pig-dogs' own communications systems to sow the seeds of mistrust and righteous indignation

Buy lots of French wine and cheese at US supermarkets, leading the French to think we like them, thereby encouraging the French to go on p***ing us off without a second thought

Anyway, I'm open to suggestions. This is an orange alert! Be vigilant!

2003-05-29T19:55:00.000-05:00

Death before disrespect

Robert Prather sent us this link about political correctness infecting even the Army Rangers, which threatens to turn the tough troopers of "Black Hawk Down" into Norwegians. And regular readers know how far that once-proud nation has slipped: al-Qaeda mistaking you for Denmark, big poopy dogs, brain snatchers stalking the streets at will, and Swedish bullying about the perceived charisma of IKEA wall systems. Just barely better than Canada.

When I first got Robert's mail, I mistakenly thought that he was referring to the TEXAS Rangers. Then I remembered that no matter what happens in the rest of the country, we are on guard against that kind of crap happening here. Also made me think of another reason why I love Dallas:

The star of our city's semi-cheesy one-hour TV detective drama can kick the star of your city's semi-cheesy one-hour TV detective drama's butt.
Los Angeles? Erik Estrada.
Miami? Don Johnson.
San Francisco? Cheech Marin. And Mr. Ex-Melanie Griffith, again.
New York? Dennis Franz.
Atlanta? Andy Griffith.
Las Vegas? David Caruso.
Honolulu? Tom Selleck. (probably packing heat, though, so be careful)
Chicago? Can't even think of a cop, just doctors.
Mayberry? Andy Griffith. (small town, so only a half-hour).
Sparta, MISSISSIPPI? Carroll O'Connor.
Houston? Nobody sets TV shows in Houston, come on.
Dallas? Chuck Norris.

I rest my case.

2003-05-29T19:53:00.000-05:00

Arriviste

Merde in France breaks the shocking news: the "de" honorific title in French Foreign Minister Dominique "Wilkins" de Villepin's name is not real, but was simply bought by his family! That's right, Dominique de Villepin and his family are no better than those instant small-town Texas oil millionaires who went around buying up European titles during the '70s oil boom. Next thing you know, we'll find out he's from Paris, Texas!

Since titles and honor don't mean much to Dom to begin with, let's give him another one, a really bad one, to add to his formal title: Dominique "Wilkins" de Villepin de Fort Worth de Sarcelles de Vichy de Cul. Comment dit-on "asshat" en français, anyway?

In other MIF news, W has added me to his very limited blogroll. I am honored, sir! Merci beaucoup! Chouette! Je kiffe un max! Kick a**!

2003-05-29T19:45:00.000-05:00

Publicité

Billboard headline: "Here's the fastest carrot in the world"

In other news of French promotion and self-promotion, we learn that the French do not pay as much attention to the details of media placement as we do in the English-speaking world. (via FootballBatJim)

In other news of French advertising silliness, word comes via the O'Reilly Factor (can't find story linked, but I saw it) last night that France is considering hiring Woody Allen as their spokesperson for an upcoming campaign to lure angry Americans back to France this summer

I can understand why the French selected him. Concepting in a Paris conference room over a glass of wine, Woody Allen would seem to be the perfect marketing vehicle in their minds:

infamous, oui?

holding S&M parties complete with hookers rented out for the occasion inside your chambers as a federal judge

It's still a bad idea, even if understandable. Don't they know about Q Scores in France? Q scores are a ratio of how well-known celebrities are and how likeable people find them. Every ad agency here in the States uses them; they're cheap at the price, reliable (50,000 households), and exhaustive (they rank about 3,000 entertainment and sports stars). Woody would be at the bottom. Well-known, yes, but not well-liked.

The French failure is even more basic than that. Ask any American outside Manhattan, and he'll tell you. If you see Woody Allen's face on TV, your mind instantly says, New York. Or Soon Yi, then New York. Cognitive dissonance, tens of millions in media and production down the tubes.

Not that I mind watching the French government fall on its derrière.

2003-05-29T19:43:00.000-05:00

Celebrity beat

Mike Tyson has applied for a copywriting job at Hallmark. (via Venom)

2003-05-29T19:41:00.001-05:00

Soul sista

Lots of good e-mail about sloshing vodka from happy warrior Kate, but still no word about whether or not she has a single sister on the mainland. Day 3 and counting.

2003-05-29T19:41:00.000-05:00

Evolution of a bad idea

Fun family tree of liberalism over at Samizdata, and very useful for educating the asshats. Only thing missing? The Democrats, but, hey, Samizdata is European. Ooooo.

2003-05-29T19:40:00.000-05:00

TV Guide

After a tough night of doing my part for the economy, I sat down to do a little channel-surfing on my favorite TV tool, the on-screen program guide:

PRIMAL FORCE (1999)
8-10 PM
SciFi Channel
A troubled jungle guide (Ron Perlman) is recruited to lead rescuers through an isolated Mexican island where survivors of a plane crash are being hunted by mutant baboons.

Mexican mutant baboons... somehow I don't think the words "brooding" or "introspective" ever came up in reviews of this film.

Definitely thought-provoking, though, in the 15 seconds I looked at the on-screen description before clicking. If Mexican mutant baboons are that much of a danger, shouldn't the airline warn you about the danger of mutant baboons during the pre-flight stewardess announcements? They make a point of going over what to do in case of a water landing, even when flying from Dallas to Las Vegas, where a water landing would require going more than a thousand miles off course.

Perhaps the mutant baboon coverup is an airline conspiracy. The airlines aren't doing well at all these days, and maybe they're just trying to avoid scaring Frank.

Back to trying to make the comments thing for the blog work, then another TV break around bedtime:

BEST SEX EVER
11:35-Midnight
Cinemax East
A radio talk-show host encourages callers to describe their erotic experiences.

This should be interesting... people talking about sex, in their own words. Might be good for a laugh, sort of like that Oxygen show with the 70-year-old Canadian Dr. Ruth who looks like the polar opposite of sex, if such a thing existed. And "best sex ever"? Not normally into watching this kind of thing, but that's a tall claim worth investigating, and I will make that sacrifice for my readers if I have to.

Disappointment. Not a whole lot of talking, just a whole lot of people actually having sex. And "best sex ever"? Only if your definition of "best sex ever" involves highly contrived situations with slightly-used b-movie rejects from the Valley whose range of emotional expression almost matches those found in sleepy iguanas.

U P D A T E
How good a governor was George W. Bush? I moved to Texas in 1999, when Primal Force was released, and W was guv'nah, and I never have had a moment's worry about the mutant baboon threat lurking on our doorstep. Al-Qaeda, Mexican mutant baboons, all in a day's work for W.

2003-05-29T12:40:00.000-05:00

test

2003-05-28T14:45:00.000-05:00

Cana-JAH?

Canada Tourism/Tourisme Canada comes up with a very novel approach to attracting tourists in the wake of the SARS epidemic. Extreme times, extreme measures, I guess. I can see the ad copy now:

Vancouver
Better scenery and sushi than Amsterdam
Better skiing than Jamaica

And getting hash browns at Tim Horton's will take on a whole new meaning.

2003-05-28T14:44:00.000-05:00

Shooting the messenger
Our friends in the Protest™ movement are starting to come out from that rock they crawled under when we started finding Saddam's mass graves and Iraqi citizens started welcoming our troops with open arms, flowers, and dancing in the streets. Since they can't retroactively stop the war, they're now going after the folks who brought them the bad news that America was won and was right, Fox News.

Adweek reports that Moveon.org is targeting News Corporation ahead of the FCC's decision on media ownership and its DIRECTV purchase:

On June 2nd, the Republicans on the FCC plan to get rid of an important regulation so that Rupert Murdoch can buy more TV stations, radio stations and newspapers, giving him control over much of the news you hear.

Funny how we never heard anything three years ago when megalomaniac/potential Bond Villain/Jane Fonda's ex-husband/Christian-mocker/extreme liberal Ted Turner was part of a much more sinister plot.

Of course people on the left will fight to the death for your freedom to speak your mind... as long as you agree with every word they say. Asshats.

2003-05-28T14:40:00.000-05:00

Account action, hot account action, steamy, throbbing accounts in review

Crispin Porter Bogusky just won the Pony shoes account. Sounds like a good move:

-- Crispin is doing some great stuff (Mini, IKEA, Virgin, FX, etc.)
-- I thought thought about Pony or seen anyone wearing their shoes since the late '70s
-- Renowned "actress" Jenna Jameson has been their spokesperson for at least a year and I never heard about it?!?!?!

Not that there's anything wrong with hiring porn stars as spokespeople; unlike the left, I actually believe in the marketplace of ideas, and I would have fought to have been on the shoot if I were at the previous agency.

But the previous agency's work with Jenna is just bad. Crude, prurient, and without an ounce of creativity or real humor. Heck, I'm a planner and I do sexual innuendo better on this blog. I've marketed to 18-24s, and I understand the need to reposition Pony as "young, edgy, and dangerous in a rules-breaking way", but this work feels more like a disgruntled agency team trying to see what they could get past the client than any kind of serious or (or even playful) brand-building.

The campaign is worse than tasteless: it's lazy, and it's lame. Crispin should have an easy time doing better.

2003-05-28T14:38:00.000-05:00

Zoom, zoom, zoom

And since I'm in an ad-blogging mood today, I just would like to note that Crispin is doing the best car advertsing in the country today, for the Mini. Brilliant stuff.

Deutsch/LA's work for Mitsubishi comes in second. Sure, you might say, just music, cars, and a line or two, but compelling, right for the target, and draws you into their message and the brand strategy completely without you ever thinking that you're being marketed to. Susceptibility must precede response.

Hummer's ads? They're selling a lot of H2s (10 year wait for a model mortals could afford), and the ads are OK, but I expected a bit more. The brand has such powerful and fun associations in people's minds, and the creative team at their new agency is the same group of folks who gave you all those wonderful VW ads in the late '90s.

But then, I'm biased.

2003-05-28T14:37:00.000-05:00

The not-so-friendly skies

More news on past clients today: Delta Air Lines is switching agencies for the third time in six years. Sad that it happened to a lot of good people at Burnett, who've been through this before. Kirshenbaum (smart guys) picks up Song, and Brighthouse will pick up branding. Delta to Chiat/Day in 6 months, you heard it here first.

2003-05-28T14:34:00.000-05:00

Physician, heal thyself

A bit of my own branding, or at least, a button/bug logo for the site:
Download it! Post it on your site! Save it! Collect it! Trade it with your friends! Lots of people liked the gun idea (blowing things up is always fun), but the design was just a bit too complicated. Simplicity is power, especially in small spaces. Thanks to everyone who wrote in with an opinion, even if I seem to have ignored it. Hey, it's my blog, my decision, and I get to be the client for once here.

2003-05-28T14:32:00.001-05:00

Outing

Mom was right; no matter that I played football in high school, wear tons of black, know all the good sushi places in Dallas, and am familiar with the opposite sex, I am a closet geek. Even Lileks (Lileks! who raves about Star Trek, his Mac, and obsesses about ugly 1960s Midwestern pop culture) is dissing The Matrix: Reloaded, while I still think it's brilliant.

AND I scored a 24.26036% on this geek test, enough to qualify me as a geek (but at least not a total or extreme geek, thankfully).

I found out about the test via Kelley at Suburban Blight, where she blogs from somewhere up 400 in the leafy 'burbs of Atlanta.

I live in Dallas and I've lived in Atlanta, and there isn't much difference between the two cities. A constantly traffic-clogged ring road around the places, Southern boosterism run wild, lots of northern suburbs, and a city close to the west with a bit of a redneck reputation that hates being lumped in with its bigger, more urbane sister.

You can even switch neighborhoods: Park Cities = Buckhead, Lakewood = Virginia Highlands, Alpharetta = Plano, Tollway = 400.

The differences are minor: Atlanta has hills, trees and humidity, while Dallas has flat prairie and breast implants.

2003-05-28T14:32:00.000-05:00

Economic stimulus

Forget the tax cut, forget the free drugs (including crack) for seniors plan or whatever ill-conceived but overly-focus-grouped class-warfare appeal the Dems are hawking this week.

If you want to save the economy, get rid of your state quarters right this second.

2003-05-28T14:31:00.000-05:00

Waking up and smelling the coffee

A bit late, but self-awareness is always good in the long run. Peter Arnett was unavailable for comment.

2003-05-28T14:30:00.000-05:00

Linky love

As I said yesterday, Kate is venomous, caustic, happy fun. And today, we learn she's extremely classy as well.

I'm just grateful she wrote before the vodka started kicking in.

And still no word if she has an unattached sister back on the mainland.

2003-05-28T14:28:00.000-05:00

Linky loopiness

Once again, non-bloggers should just ignore this and move on. Maripat, Maripat, Maripat, Maripat. Jay, Jay, Jay, Jay. More for Maripat because she's been linking and helping for a lot longer.

2003-05-28T04:31:00.000-05:00

Google-eyed

An unexpected pleasure of writing a web journal is seeing where the people who visit you are coming from. If you clicked on a link on a web page, that is. Don't worry: I don't know who any of you are unless you write me, create a link on another site, or sign the guest map. And if you typed my address or used a bookmark to get here, I have no way of knowing if you were perusing porn (via Kelley), reading Star Trek fan fiction, comparing viagra prices, following a Houston-area sports franchise, or anything else that others might find weird and/or unseemly.

Some of the Google searches people have made and found my blog with are what you might expect if you've been reading this for a while:

Laurie Dhue
Laurie Dhue nude
Texas Democrats Beverly Hillbillies
Laurie Dhue hottie
Kiran Chetry nude
Jennifer Eccleston nude
Dominique de Villepin's image
Bianca Solorzano nude
Natalie Morales MSNBC butt
Sexual harassment knee-high boots
Chris Jansing legs
Juliet Huddy nude
Tatu nude
Roy Williams Carolina basketball

Some search terms baffle me:

Alexander Haig photo
Laurie Dhue feminist

Others border on scary:

Hitler Eva Braun suicide pictures
healthy female genitalia pictures

... and some have no basis in reality:

Dominique Villepin suave
Dominique Villepin smart
Dominique Villepin sexy

These last three searches come on an almost daily basis from Google's French site, google.fr, which suggests that the French Foreign Minister has a lot of time on his hands now that the war is over and his poetry book has hit the stores.

The greatest number of hits, though, has been related to the French "Merovingian" character in the recent Matrix sequel. Some people are looking for the recipe to the Merovingian's delicious-looking cake, so delicious that it makes Meg Ryan's sandwich scene from When Harry Met Sally look chaste.

Most of my Matrix hits have come from people looking for the text of the cursing/swearing dialogue in French from the movie, which I found at Glazblog:

I have sampled every language, but french is my favorite. Fantastic language, especially to curse with: nom de dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard d'enculé de ta mère. It's like wiping your ass with silk.

So there you go, Googlers. "Wiping with silk"... a potential all-time classic movie quote. And a very foul stream of French, so vile that W of Merde In France says, "Whoah! I thought I was somewhere at Strasbourg Saint-Denis in the red light district or something. I wish I'd have written that!"

You may be asking yourself (as I did in the theater), what does this stream of very foul French mean? Literally, the words translate as

In the name of G*d of a whore of a whorehouse of s**t of a b**ch of a c*** of a cornholed of your mother.

While technically correct, it just didn't sound right, sort of like the scene in the 1985 movie Gotcha! where a young (pre-Goose, even) Anthony Edwards tells a Paris waiter to go to hell by using the French he learned in school:

Mon crayon est grand et jaune!
My pencil is big and yellow!

The crack cultural insult translation team at Merde In France was kind enough to help out, and we came up with this translation of what it would mean if you were swearing in English:

G** damn it, what a mother****ing f***ked-up bitch of a s***ty mess, you mother****ing wanker, and yo' mama, too.

Thanks, W. Any errors in the cultural translation are mine.

The greatest unexpected pleasure, though, comes from the folks who've helped me and linked to me when I was just a li'l puppy in the blog pound. People like W, Maripat, Geoffrey, and Kate. Still amazed that anyone at all reads this, and very thankful.

And hopefully that will clear the karmic air after having tossing around "motherf*****" so many times in one post. The language, the cigarettes... I am becoming an upscale Texas version of Denis Leary, which would seem to violate the laws of nature.

2003-05-27T06:15:00.000-05:00

Thank you

Thanks to all of you who've written over the last few days. Especially for all the kind words about Friday's post about my mother. She touched so many lives, and it was nice to hear that the remembrance even touched some of you who'd never met her.

Thanks go out as well to those of you who have signed my guest map and/or written in to comment about the ad buttons. Even more thanks to the bloggers who link me, especially the frequent ones, whether they live in Paris, Hawaii, Boston, or Colorado.

And a special thank you to Kate over at Electric Venom, for the linkage, the correspondence, and the insight on the relationship between flattery and linkage. The more and more I read about her, the more intrigued I become. Caustic! Funny! Nicotine-addicted! Knows her vodka! Smart! Curses! Pretty! Happily rude! Resorts to intelligent innuendo quite often in her posts! Right-wing conspiracist! Lives on the beach! Writes in her blog that she has a great pair of breasts! Democracy! Whiskey! Sexy!

Sounds almost like the perfect woman from my point of view, but I think I'd better stick to pondering if she has an unmarried sister back on the mainland. Not only does she say she hates it when men mistake her being nice as an invitation for a come-on, but she also has a gun. And, why, yes, she does know how to use it. And she is married. And he is in the Army. And scariest of all, she used to be a lawyer.

Ahhhh... back to normal now.

2003-05-27T06:11:00.000-05:00

Poetry corner

Definitely back. Lewd remarks? Check, see above. France-bashing? See here. And, as an added bonus, not just media criticism, but poetry criticism! NOW how much would you pay?

OK, there's nothing wrong with writing poetry per se, even if it does give off a slight Columbine-goth-loner vibe. No, what gets me riled is when people act pretentious about it. Especially if they're French. And extra-special-with-a-cherry-on-top especially if they're French Foreign Minister and Agent Smith clone Dominique "Wilkins" de Villepin.

Dom has just published his fourth book of poetry, Tribute to the Fire Eaters. I'm sure this has some cosmic cultural meaning in French, but it makes me think of circus freaks. Quite appropriate, actually. Here's a sample:

(My book) listens to the seed of the terrible voice which cleaves our consciences and feeds our imagination. It affirms its confidence in words, which force open the doors of mystery and give it movement and brightness.

Diminished conscience, terrible voice, impenetrably vague... yep, that's de Villepin, all right.

De Villepin cites as his ideal hero-poet Arthur Rimbaud - the patron saint of misunderstood adolescents in bed-sits around the world. His potted biography gives the general flavour - drugs, drink, doomed homosexual passion, gun-running in Africa, early death from syphilis. Villepin also names Franois Villon, mediaeval murderer on the run. And speaks highly of Gerard de Nerval, the proto-Surrealist and founder member of the Club des Hachichins, who hanged himself from a windowgrating in drug-addled despair at the condition of the world.

Heroes? Heck, these guys could be members of Chirac's Cabinet! Exactly how many hookers did French FCC Commissioner Dominique Baudis invite to that party? And why weren't we (or at least our French friends at Merde In France) invited?

Villepin also admires the certified madman Antonin Artaud, whose late work, characterised by delusions, hallucinations, glossolalia and violent anti-American tantrums, has been described as "a heretic's scatalogical tirade at the extreme of the linguistic lunatic fringe".

Definitely de Villepin.

They were not mad, but prophets. They saw what others did not see, their cries were luminous.

At least until the nurse came by with the Thorazine. Hopefully W will bring along a few months' worth of doses as a gift for Monsieur at the Evian Summit.

If there is no indignation behind the State, it doesn't work.

Spoken like a true Socialist... or a Democrat. There is a Socialist Party in France, but the scary thing is, neither de Villepin or Chirac belong to it.

As a means of explaining de Villepin and French foreign policy to le monde, the book sounds pretty good. But at 800 pages, it might be a little bit too long for those of us not working on a doctoral dissertation or in Bill Whittle mode to sift through. So I've taken the liberty of condensing the book into a poem, a haiku to be precise:

Pretentious asshat
Enough with the delusions
Humanity's zit

17 syllables. Count 'em.

2003-05-27T06:10:00.001-05:00

European Idol

In other news involving Russians and "marital aids", Tatu lost the contest to a Turkish singer, which led to my favorite headline of the week:

Turkey licks Tatu in Eurovision

No word yet on how this will affect the duo's plans to wed and move into a brothel.

Norway did not escape the Abba-sounding Eurovision contest unscathed. Already suffering from brain snatching. mutating crapping dogs and being mistaken for Denmark by al-Qaeda, the blond land of weirdness is now in a diplomatic flap with Sweden after the Norwegian commentator, possibly channelling Simon Cowell, referred to the Swedish group Fame as "less charismatic than an IKEA bookcase."

Good one, Jostein. The Swedes struck back, in true Volvo fashion:

If the commentator mocks a country and is positive to others, that is wrong. A commentator shall not insult countries.

You go, Kjell!

And finally in the Eurovision roundup, England's group did not receive any points at all. This was debated at length on the Sunday political talk shows, with some claiming that the vote (or lack thereof) was retaliation for England's stance on Iraq, and others claiming that the band, well, sucked.

2003-05-27T06:10:00.000-05:00

How do you say "long, smooth shaft" in Russian?

How the mighty have fallen: from SS-20 missiles to "marital aids". The Russian military, still crazy after all these years. Via IMAO. No, not really. Via Kate.

2003-05-27T06:09:00.000-05:00

Zen master and President for Life

If two planes crash into two towers and 3,000 Zionists, crusaders and their running dog apostate lackeys die, does it make a sound in Damascus?

I think Syrian President Bashar Assad has watched the Matrix sequel a few too many times already. That's the only explanation for this weirdness over the weekend:

Is there really an entity called al-Qaida? Was it in Afghanistan? Does it exist now?

To answer: 9/11, they're dead now, and yes, yes, and yes again.

Maybe Assad OD'd on this weekend's Star Trek marathon on the SciFi Channel:

Bin Laden cannot talk on the phone or use the Internet, but he can direct communications to the four corners of the world? This is illogical.

Damn it, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a diplomat, but somebodyneeds to tell Bashar al-Spock over there that not speaking on the phone or using the 'net is plenty logical if you have the CIA, NSA, FBI, U.S. Dept. of Defense, MI6, and the rest of the Anglo world's combined intelligence and military assets gunning for you. Damn Vulcans, where's my bourbon...

America is happy with Syria and the Arab countries when Israel is happy with them.

No, America is happy with you all when you aren't killing people in the name of Allah and get your priests to cut it out with the 72 virgins-for-the-corpses-of-Zionists-and-crusaders exchange program. Double for Israel.

The Matrix definitely has you, Bashar. And there are 300,000 Neos on your doorstep.

2003-05-27T06:08:00.001-05:00

World news rounded up

OK, enough of the world news. Comments about Amurrrrrrican events, politics, the ad business, and Fox Blondes return tomorrow.

2003-05-27T06:08:00.000-05:00

Canadian bacon

Canada, the Norway of North America, has a lot on its plate right now. There's mad cow disease, SARS, a mentally challenged Prime Minister, a high level of sexual attraction to children, and Wayne Gretzky still in America.

Today brings the final straw: the Canadian military believe their new logo looks like it was designed for sissies. Insert your own caustic comment about Canada's participation in the war here.

2003-05-27T06:05:00.000-05:00

Blogworld weirdness

If you don't write your own blog, just ignore this. Some people seem quite concerned about their position on those ecosystem boards, so I'm doing my part as the ladies at RightWeAre! have asked. Kate's bought into it too, so it can't be all wrong. If you do have a blog, return the favor or something, lol.

2003-05-23T17:23:00.000-05:00

Editor's note: For those of you who did not know my mother or don't want a heavy dose of sentimentality, scroll past this post for the usual mix of sarcasm, political ranting, France-bashing, Fox-gawking, and ironically detached media criticism.

Mom, 1946-2002

The darkest day of my life was one year ago today, the Friday of Memorial Day weekend 2002, when I got the call that my mother died.

She had come out of cancer surgery a day and a half earlier, and we thought the worst of it was behind us. When I talked with her through her nurse in the ICU a few hours earlier the night before, she was smiling, making jokes, being sarcastic, and trying to laugh, being herself, even though she was hooked up to a ventilator.

The next morning, my aunt called me with the horrible news that she had had a fatal stroke in the middle of the night, dying in her sleep. I remember that moment, that stab of pain, so vividly. It felt like the world had ended. Even though I was surrounded by people in a very crowded Admiral's Club at LAX, I could not stop myself from howling in pain or collapsing onto the floor (why was I even in LA on business? I already had a ticket to fly in for the weekend, and Mom didn't want me to come home earlier; if you knew my Mom, you'd understand).

Mom meant so much to so many people. Since I am an only child and my parents had separated, she pretty much was my family: mother, father, brother, sister, often best friend, always there, always giving, always there for me, to laugh, soothe, or even rage against the asshats with me when I needed to.

To my friends, she was the cool mom, the one who MADE us kids stay up late on Saturday nights during the late 1970s just so that we would see and know who John Belushi, Dan Ackroyd, and Bill Murray were. To her French students, she was the cool teacher (and the secret about her actually doing backflips will remain safe with me). To her friends, she could always be counted on to be loyal as well as wickedly funny.

So many of the good things about who I am come from her: my looks, my passionate loyalty, my intelligence, my ability with languages, my sense of humor, my fascination with (and ironic detachment from) popular culture, my sense of honor, my independence, my patriotism, my happy élitism, and the small bit of grace that I have.

A few of the bad things, too, especially being too darn loud and a chronic inability to suffer fools gladly in any shape or form.

She always knew the right things to say, to help me find the strength, faith, and courage to move forward. She even did this from beyond the grave. At her viewing the day after she died, her best friend, who was with her the weekend before, came up to me and we hugged. After the initial tears and both of us moaning, "this sucks, this sucks, this sucks," Mom's friend grabbed me, fixed me with a piercing gaze, and said,

"I don't know why I am telling you this right now, but I feel like I have to. I was with your mom all last weekend, and all she could talk about were two things.

First of all, how much she loves you and how proud she was of the man you've become, and

How you are doing the right thing with ~~XXXXX~~" (my ex, who I was going through a divorce-like breakup with at the time).

Even then, in that dark hour, with Mom in a coffin on the other side of the room, Mom knew what to say to help me survive by answering the only two questions I would have asked at that moment.

I already knew all the other answers. Unlike some people, there wasn't a lot that was unsaid or unresolved between us. As the line in the book When Parents Die says, "We shared what we had the sense to share. And it was a lot. And it was good."

I still love her and miss her terribly, especially on Sunday nights when she would invariably call in the middle of the Sopranos, the one hour during the week when I was not to be disturbed. Unlike the divorce situation that Mom told me would leave a "permanent hole in my heart", though, the hole created when Mom died has been filled. By the rest of my family, especially her sister, my friends here in Dallas who have become my family, Mom's spirit, and a renewed faith in God. Which is probably the best testimony Mom could have to the great job she did as a parent: I survived her death, and I will always remember her, but I have grown since then, too.

One moment Mom always used to remember and laugh about came when I was twelve, and my class went to visit the town mental health center on a field trip. When the trip was over and I got into the car with Mom, I was visibly shaken--freaked out, actually. Mom asked me why, and I told her: "the woman at the mental health place didn't just say goodbye, she told me she would 'see me again soon'! Am I insane?" Mom carried that piece of pat psychiatric diagnosis with her the rest of her life, telling me about it whenever I got unduly exercised about the opinions of those supposedly in authority.

So, Mom, if you're reading this in Heaven, I'll see you again soon. But not just yet.

2003-05-23T17:21:00.000-05:00

Mom on blog

I even think she would have enjoyed this weblog. The comment over the phone would have gone something like this:

It's nice, dear. But don't be so damn wordy--no one's going to read all that, get some sleep, quit writing at such odd hours, quit watching so much Fox News or you'll go blind doing that, lose some weight, stop smoking (I can smell it), ask out that nice girl I met at that dinner party the last time I was out there in Texas, and whatever you do, please, please, PLEASE, don't write some sad mushy tribute thing to me, damn it! I know how you feel, but I hate hearing that kind of treacly sincere crap, nobody ever really reads it, no matter what they tell you to your face, and the only person it does anything for is yourself, and you should be getting on with your own life and quit worrying about me.

And since you have this web thing, why don't you put your margarita recipe on there? I hate having to call you when I'm trying to make one here in Richmond. And while I've got you on the phone, how do I get the DVD player to record "In the Heat of the Night"? What? It doesn't record? Then why did you get it for me if it doesn't record? Why would you spend that amount of money if it can't even do what the old thing did? I'm your mother, but I swear, I don't share your technology/gadget fetish... OK, Tell me how to hook the old VCR back up to the TV, wait, hold on, I'm getting on the cordless..."

Either that, or:

"Well, I tried to get on, but it didn't come up after a couple of seconds, so I thought it was broken and went back to EBay."

Gotta love your Mom, the good, the bad, and the rest of it. If your mom is still around, give her a call or, better yet, give her a hug. It matters.

And put on a sweater. Your Mom feels cold.

2003-05-23T04:57:00.000-05:00

Save a fish, sign the guest map...

2003-05-23T04:20:00.000-05:00

For the children, for your country, drink like hell

Mark your calendars: Wednesday, May 28 is Drunkards for Economic Growth Night. Because we need a bit of irrational exuberance right now.

Hat tip: the lovely, vodka-swilling, sinuous, dangerously dressed, island diva Venomous Kate, who has been slithering in my landlocked neck of the woods recently in a quest for firepower.

2003-05-23T04:19:00.000-05:00

Sherbet alert, day 4

Still vigilant? Good. Frank at IMAO weighs in with a few helpful tips on keeping that vigilance honed to razor sharpness, at least when you're not out drinking to help the economy:

I see a stranger outside.
*Green: Maybe he could give your kids a ride to school.
*Blue: He might be lost; ask him what he's doing here.
*Yellow: Stay in your house and avoid him. Strangers bad.
*Orange: Run outside and pistol-whip him while questioning his involvement with terrorism.
*Red: Kill him; no questions asked.

Read the whole thing; it rocks!

2003-05-23T04:18:00.001-05:00

Paging Dr. Blix, the gods must be crazy

Pygmies in Congo (the nation formerly known as Zaire) are begging the U.N. to investigate incidents of cannibalism among soldiers and rebels fighting them.

Horrible, yes. But the U.N.? Do they really want twelve years of hand-wringing? Twelve years of questioning and lecturing from the French, the Belgians, and whoever else in the E.U. has contracts with the current Congo regime for the fava beans and Chianti concession about how we shouldn't rush in like imperialists to impose our value system on this indigenous culture? Twelve years of trying to understand the "root causes" of cannibalism? Twelve years of... oh, screw it. This is just bad. Another reason for "Drunkards for Growth." Call George, guys, and save yourselves now.

U P D A T E
By the way, isn't there a more politically correct name for these guys? "Pygmy" sounds so, well, colonial. Aren't they now referred to as Bushmen or Bushpeople? Er, probably not the best choice for the PC crew, either, but we just don't use those clicking sounds in our language...

2003-05-23T04:18:00.000-05:00

Norway, land of intrigue

Ever since the Vikings quit marauding in the 10th Century, most of us in the English-speaking world outside Minnesota haven't really had to worry too much about goings-on in Oslo. They don't even make boxy cars that break down far too often like their Swedish neighbors, or cool cellphones and soothing saunas like the Finns. Just fish, oil, and cute fjords for cruise ships to sail around.

Until this week. In the space of a couple of days, this placid, happy, blonde land has transformed into the weirdest community since Twin Peaks. Brain snatchers. Giant mutating dogs with strange bowel movements. Dire threats from al-Qaeda.

The brain-snatching and canine gigantism remain unsolved, but the Norwegian government feels like they've solved this al-Qaeda thing and nipped it in the bud:

1. They're promising to "take the matter seriously."
2. They're claiming that the terrorists have them confused with Denmark, an easy mistake, because, hey, we all look alike.

Sounds like Norway has already joined the European Union.

2003-05-23T04:10:00.001-05:00

There is no word in English for "rapprochement"

Agent Smith, I mean, French Foreign Minister Dominique "Wilkins" de Villepin de Sarcelles de Vichy de Cul, failed to assimilate Colin "Morpheus" Powell yesterday. It had to have been tough, but Secretary Powell is still representing humanity:

You are not forgiven...

"Let's not paper it over. Let's not pretend it didn't happen". Asked if he continued to believe that France should be punished for opposing the United States, he said it was "appropriate to draw conclusions and consequences follow"

In diplo-speak, I think that's what is called a b***h-slap. The French keep thinking that we'll just let bygones be bygones, just like Clinton did, to their ultimate misfortune. They just can't get it into their têtes petites that W, like Reagan, says what he means and means what he says. Heck, they keep forgetting the signal trait of the Bush family politicians, helpfully written down about Bush 41 by Bob Woodward ten years ago:

Bush remembers and you have to be careful.

Sure, they voted our way at the UN (gosh, merci) yesterday and expect all to be made well, but we tend to look at what they do, not just what they say:

The emerging European superstate is seen by France as a rival to the US, not an ally. The euro is seen less as a facilitator of intra-EU trade than as a rival to the dollar. And the new European Defence Force is clearly aimed by France at becoming a substitute for, rather than the supplement to, NATO that Tony Blair hoped it would be.

M Chirac has been busy wooing leaders of the anti-capitalist movement who want to turn the Evian summit into a jamboree of protest.

Over the past two days, M Chirac and M de Villepin have again set out the French view that the world needs a "multi-polar" system, code for the idea that American power must be balanced by that of Europe, China and other centres.

Unforgiven, damn skippy. When addressing the G8 Summit in France, I suggest the President take his inspiration from Frank over at IMAO:

Well, Carrie, you understand that batteries are a great scientific accomplishment and they cost lots of money. You also understand that to play around and stick them in your mouth is wrong, so that tingle you feel is your conscience.

No, wait, that's not it. The President should really try this tack:

It's much easier for everyone to hate us rather than dwell on their own incompetence, but don't think we're going to go out of our way to be liked. We'll give foreign aid as always, because, well, we're just too nice of guys to just watch everyone starve. And you people can spout off all your hatred of America while you eat the food we donated to you, and we'll still be back to feed you again. There is just one thing you have to keep in mind, though: if you ever act on that hatred and try to harm us, your worst visions of hell will pale in comparison to vengeance we will wreak upon you.

And if that doesn't work, there's always Rummy.

U P D A T E
FYI, French people, you think I'm bad? I'm one of your friends. I've visited your country several times, and when your leaders aren't acting like connards, I usually prefer Pouilly Fuissé wine and Veuve Cliquot champagne to their California counterparts, think Kronenbourg 1664 is an extremely tasty beer, wear tons of black, even in the Texas summer, smoke, brunch at La Madeleine, and speak your language because maman was a French teacher who taught me to love your language and your country from infancy onwards.

And if I'm this ticked off, imagine what my pickup-driving neighbors here in the Lone Star State, even the ones who have a ranch 90 miles south of here in Crawford, must be thinking.

Don't mess with Texas, or America, anymore, Jacques. You have been warned.

2003-05-23T04:10:00.000-05:00

Taking back the Net

As Cartman would say, kick a**. That, plus the fact that I don't need your viagra or genital-lengthening devices, thank you very much.

2003-05-23T04:06:00.000-05:00

Aiding and abetting

Of course the Washington Democrats were helping out the AWOL Texas legislators. No one from Texas ever goes to Oklahoma on vacation. Heck, we even play the OU-Texas game in Dallas.

2003-05-23T01:49:00.000-05:00

If the night falls and the bomb falls, will anybody see the dawn?

Just got done reading a couple of great pieces that really made me think, by Misha, the "anti-idiotarian rottweiler" (and Dallas guy who hasn't returned my e-mail) and here. The subject? The fact that our children (and, heck, most folks under age 30) will never really know the fear of the apocalypse that we lived with on a daily basis from 1945 until the late 1980s. And the fact that we have Ronald Reagan to thank for it.

I was in junior high and high school for the first half of the 1980s and in college for the second half, and the first half was scary. The Soviets (and almost everybody else) still thought they were going to rule the world. Reagan was standing tough, but everyone in the media (3 networks, CNN, Time, and Newsweek, no web, no blogs, just those guys) were telling us that Reagan was going to push the Soviets over the edge. One false slip from "Bedtime for Bonzo" boy like the one he made, say, just the other day, by golly (remember that "we begin bombing in 5 minutes" joke"?), and 30 minutes later, civilization, and maybe humanity itself, vanishes from the face of the earth.

Somehow, the quick death was easier to comprehend and live with. A flash of light, and you're an X-Ray, hello, Saint Peter. Living down the road from NATO Atlantic Command in Norfolk, Virginia and up the road from the B-52s at Seymour-Johnson AFB, we all thought we wouldn't be around very long. FYI, kids, B-52s back then didn't mean precision surgical bombing on 18-hour missions. They were sitting on the runway around the clock, engines on, ready to take off with 25-megaton H-bombs to hit what the missiles missed. But that was death, and while uncertain, it would be quick, and there wasn't much you could do about it anyway.

Shoulder pads, hair gel, Tina Turner albums for the survival kit
Most of the pop culture about the bomb was often silly and hard to believe. The Day After? Please. For all the hype and the special effects, not that scary. Sure, there was Jason Robards, so you knew you were supposed to look frowny-faced. But there was also John Lithgow as a scientist, and you just knew that given another 30 minutes or so in the film, he would have hacked something together to fix everything and make it right. And then there was Steve Guttenberg, whom we were supposed to feel sorry for because he was dying of radiation sickness, but you could never get it out of your head that he was the Police Academy guy. Even the missiles taking off right behind the football stadium was hard to believe. Maybe they were right there in Kansas, but a full stadium? Watching a football game like that while we were in a shooting war in Germany? Come on.

You also had Mel Gibson's Mad Max movies and the hordes of copycats, which seemed to suggest that the best course of action in the event of Armageddon would be to run to a sporting goods store to stock up on football shoulder pads and hockey masks, even if you lived in the Australian outback.

The desert of the realistic
The horror for me was the possibility of surviving the insta-war in a world where civilization, law and economics reverted to the Dark Ages, best made clear in the BBC's version of The Day After, Threads. The Day After took you out about a couple of weeks; Threads took you out a couple of decades, to show the horrible synergies when all the threads of civilization were unraveled. Darn those depressing Brits.

That was the real horror. Not mutants or Tina Turner in a very different post-Ike comeback mode, but more prosaic fear, want, and squalor, with no hope of relief. Food riots. Hiding in a basement shelter, fearing death from radiation or the sudden footsteps of looters above. Tennis courts turned into concentration camps by the police. Forced labor for all as serfs, using our Nike gym bags to gather wheat. Soldiers turning into bands of gangsters to survive and dominate. Future generations not knowing or caring about language, culture, or democracy, only "work" and "eat".

Still freaks me out to think back. Day in, day out, 30 minutes from now, any day, any time, fast-rewind from the Macintosh to Medieval Times, only you're the busboy, with no breaks for you or your family. Ever.

Scrambling eggs
And we lived with it for years, some lived with it for decades. And then, in the mid-80s, it changed. Sure, you had Gorby. But we all knew (or should know) that he didn't come around by accident. He was the first sign we all could see of Humpty-Dumpty being pushed. '85, '86, '87, '88, you could see him slipping. In '89, the wall fell. and in '91, Humpty hit the ground and broke to pieces, with the final act on Christmas Day, no less, as the hammer and sickle went down for good at the Kremlin.

Who pushed Humpty-Dumpty off the wall? Ronald Reagan, who stood tough, with a smile and a faith in America's inner strength that never wavered. Margaret Thatcher, same thing with the English. Pope John Paul II, bringing God into the fight on our side. All those men and women who served in the armed forces for 50 years, and all those who died, from Korea to Vietnam to El Salvador.

And there was also another factor, which all of the folks listed above believed in: Western Civilization and the dynamic culture it has created. As P.J. O'Rourke said when the Wall fell in '89 (kids, that graffiti thing in the museum that used to stand near the Reichstag in Berlin, where either the Mercedes building or the Sony Center), 70 years of Communist indoctrination were drowned out by a three ounce Sony Walkman. The horrible, soul-crushing brutality and oppression of the Soviet regimes could no longer stand because nobody east of the Elbe wanted to wear Bulgarian shoes any more.

Happy meals trump "holy" war
When I think about 9/11, the terror alerts, the duct tape and stocking up on bottled water, I think about those darker days, when you had more to fear than a few crazies on an airliner taking down a few city blocks. And if war with Afghanistan, or Iraq, or some other rogue terrorist state now is what it takes to keep the danger and subtext of dread of those darker days from returning to haunt my offspring, then it is worth it. The sooner the better, in fact.

I remember how we won that Cold War and ended those dark days the last time around: with conviction in our inner strength and the universal right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, by being true to who we are and what we say, and by the power of our culture, that already brings people in from all corners of the globe and gives them a better life (go see Bend It Like Beckham, if you haven't already, or just think about Baywatch, even more beloved in the Middle East than here in America).

We beat back Nazism and Communism, evil ideas armed with the ability to take us back to the Stone Age in a matter of minutes. Today we face an equally evil threat from Islamic Fascism, which does not have the same technology but shares the same desire to take us back to those days in the name of their twisted vision of Allah.

With men like George Bush and Tony Blair standing firm as they lead us, and men like MarineTad fighting the battles, we will win through, with the help of God, a few U.S. Marines, and the indomitable spirit of our happy culture. We did it before, and we'll do it again. Thanks, guys.

2003-05-22T16:54:00.000-05:00

Shave and a haircut, two bits

Geoffrey got his hair cut. And he's grumpy about it. Almost curmudgeonly.

2003-05-22T16:40:00.000-05:00

Fox and friends

What is the deal with Fox News morning host E.D. Hill's new and extremely retro 'do? Is Fox n' Friends doing a cross-promotion with the upcoming Charlie's Angels sequel? Apparently so, and it looks like the promotion goes both ways:

2003-05-22T10:10:00.001-05:00

Orange Alert, Day 3

Everybody vigilant? Good. The Department of Homeland Security is on the case, and so, it seems, is J. Crew.

2003-05-22T10:10:00.000-05:00

Update

Thanks to all who have signed my guest map and commented on my logo buttons. Interesting people and places, and "SRG" from somewhere up in Wyoming/Idaho/Montana felt the need to warn me that all the women in Plano are actually fembots.

No need to fear the Plano fembots, SRG; they're another reason I love Dallas. I personally believe the way to overcome your fear is to embrace it. Several times on Saturday night and Sunday morning, if necessary.

And if you haven't signed my guest map yet, please do so. The fish are still in danger.