President Obama recently paid a visit to the comedy division of his media empire, NBC, on the Tonight Show. It appears we no longer want a President; we want a buddy or celebrity to occupy 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Obama instinctively understood this as he mulled over his NCAA basketball brackets as Patton would an invasion.
Capitalism is holding on for dear life, rats are running through the halls of congress, and the only man qualified to run the Treasury, Tim Geithner, is clueless, yet, this President yucked it up with Jay Leno without regard to what’s falling down around him. The obvious explanation for this behavior is blind arrogance accompanied by a willing class of enablers or voters fans.
Presidents are supposed to be fodder for late night talk shows, not co-hosting the buffoonery. To make matters worse, Obama followed up his Leno appearance by launching into a bizarre giggle-fest on 60 Minutes with straight man, Steve Kroft. A pending depression is always a riot, anyone remember those fireside chats FDR gave at the Laugh Factory, what a hoot.
Now, word is leaking out about the Obama’s weekly Wednesday night cocktail parties at the White House. Apparently things have become so wild that furniture has been broken and ruckus guest are repeatedly warned to “tone it down.” I half expect to see a photo of the President, shirtless, downing a keg while portraits of George and Martha Washington hang in the background. Forget the economy dude; Pelosi is starting a conga line.
So while Rome burns the “Tao of Barack” (look cool, look smart, look at me) sweeps across the country. The “Buddy in Chief” can’t waste time on the small stuff, just grab some DVDs off the shelf for Gordon what’s his name and tell main man, Geithner, to take a chill pill, the recession isn’t going anywhere. Air Party One needs to be wheels-up by Miller Time, the “First Buddy” is in charge and living large.
It’s never cool to question your buddy’s agenda. If he spends 3 trillion, ahh who cares, besides Oprah is doing an exclusive on the President’s iPod. I hear Lil Wayne remixed “Hail to the Chief” for the occasion.
I’m so glad our President is hip, I’d hate to think what would have happened if old fuddy-duddy McCain were elected. The man doesn’t even know how to use a computer and he snubbed Letterman, the nerve. He’d be all high-and-mighty with his vetoes and responsible spending, and then, that whole prisoner of war thing, what a downer. By the way, did you know Barack sneaks smokes behind the Oval Office? Cool.
I think I read somewhere that North Korea has a nuclear thing-a-ma-jig or something. No worries pal, Obama just needs to friend Kim Jong Il on his Facebook, problem solved.
Yeah, there was something in the news about that pesky unemployment rate. I think it came from mean-old Sean Hannity and those party poopers over at Fox. Hey, did you see the swing-set Obama put in for his kids? He’s a great dad.
Look, in all seriousness, at some point, the full weight of this sideshow will implode. Electing a celebrity sounded fashionable, but so did polyester pants and white belts. Someone needs to tell Mr. Obama he won the election and a President doesn’t lead through pop-culture. A President should be a man of the people, yet still maintain a certain reverence or properness. Trivializing the office lends itself to be mocked.
We get it Mr. President, you’re cool, but a cool President isn’t too hip to fail, and there’s not much mileage left on the blame-Bush-bandwagon.
Neither party can claim immunity to this fiscal mess. The culprit was aggressive selfishness fueled by untouchable and always reelected politicians. However, what Mr. Obama inherited will be a minor footnote to our multi-trillion-dollar Obama-Pelosi-Reid shackles. We are the ancestors of record. The financial sins committed are breathtaking and should sicken the stomach at the casualness on display. The world’s economy hinges on the policy, language and tone that come from the White House. It’s time for Mr. Obama to put on his Presidential trousers and quit playing the goof on late night talk shows. Such behavior lowers us all.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Last Call to Hooterville…and bring Friday
If you’ve followed this blog lately I’m sure you’ve noticed all I’ve written about concerns our collision with socialism. There’s no getting around it—capitalism is on life support and socialism just went into labor. One dies and one is born, the cycle of politics I guess. Anyway, I need a respite from my, “We’re-all-gonna-die” rants and “They’ll remove the constitution from my cold dead fingers,” routine.
To battle this feeling of impending doom I take part in a nightly ritual that I’ve found relieves stress and centers me from this paradox we call life. Some may say it’s a guilty pleasure or perhaps a tool used to deny reality. Whatever the case, I record two shows during the day through the miracle of the digital video recorded, or as I like to call it, “the magic box.” Then at ten o’clock each evening I slip the bonds of anxiety and drift into tranquility. Think of it like Petula Clark when she goes “Downtown.” Who? Forget it, just play along.
When I settle in the first television show on the docket is “Dragnet.” You remember this show starring straight-laced button-down cop, Joe Friday. Sure there’s bad acting, stiff dialogue, and a lot on awkward nodding, but this show is my portal to a world we’ll never see again. Dragnet was filmed in a day when guys smoked inside and coffee was considered lunch. There’s not a cell phone to be found and computers took up whole rooms. In those day’s men weren’t afraid to be men while women loved them for it. Political-correctness didn’t exist when Joe Friday pinched a suspect. In fact, the criminals actually confessed after Sergeant Friday went off on a five minute monologue about long hair, God, and country. His deep two-pack-a-day voice hardly came up for air when dressing down a suspect or lecturing a rookie officer on what it takes to be a cop. To Friday everything is black and white; gray areas are for punks, winos, hippies, and every other nonconformist that litter the streets.
What I wouldn’t give to have Joe Friday address Congress. I can just imagine Friday throwing Barney Frank in a chair and then spin him around.
Friday would say something like this, “Now you listen to me mister and listen good. I don’t know how you get your kicks, son, but I’ve dealt with your kind before. You think that socialism stuff you’re pushing is pretty cute, huh? Using tax payer’s money to redistribute wealth might get you a membership down at club Pink-O, but it doesn’t work with me. You sell that jazz to the useful idiots you call constituents or the freaks so loaded up on goofballs they buy into your warped sense of government. You may fool them, buster, but I’m armed with something you’ll never understand… (Pause for effect)… The Constitution.” (Cue the musical zinger.)
Sorry, my mind started to drift into another socialism rant.
So back to Dragnet, the lameness of the show is its beauty. It’s really nothing more than a thirty minute promotional film for the Los Angeles Police Department, but the matter-of-fact narration by Joe Friday made this show a classic. The concept of Friday, a confirmed bachelor, is a hoot. He has the same no nonsense approach with his dates as he does with the potheads he collars. Barney Fife (or Frank) is more comfortable with women, but that’s another show for another day. Watch this clip for a great Friday speech.
The second show of my nightly double feature is “Green Acres.” You know the story, a big city lawyer, Oliver Wendell Douglas, moves to the country to become a farmer. (What could possibly go wrong?)
This show is absolutely brilliant. The wit and satire (if you get it) is better than any shallow-minded-predictable-sitcom today. The plot is pure genius. This isn’t some cornpone “Hee-Haw” grits and gravy humor. Its high-class comedy cleverly wrapped around uneatable hotcakes, a telephone on top of a pole, and a pig that watches Westerns.
The entire town of Hooterville with the exception of Oliver Douglas is insane. By contrast this makes Oliver the crazy person. Okay, Oliver does wear a three-piece suit when planting corn, but he does take his jacket off when plowing the fields.
The show is capitalism at its best. Sam Drucker’s general store is the Walmart of Hooterville. Sam has everything from pickles in a barrel to tractor parts. Of course there’s Mr. Haney who could sell light bulbs to Edison. He’s dishonest as a day is long, but he always manages to have something Oliver needs and usually Haney closes the deal.
County agent, Hank Kimball, is a piece of work. The man hasn’t a clue as to who he is or what he does. In other words, Kimball is the typical government worker. Hank Kimball is the best character on the show, well not the best character on the show, maybe the second best, no he’s not that either. Who’s not? Kimball. Oh him, who’s that?
Another tour de force is Arnold Ziffel, the son of Doris and Fred Ziffel. One problem, Arnold is a pig and Oliver is the only one who understands this and refuses to accept the pig as an equal. It doesn’t help that everyone, except Oliver, is pig-lingual and can communicate fluently with the Arnold. On a deeper scale it could be a commentary on our social and economical intolerance as it relates to farm animals and the injustices the white man has incorporated to gain fiscal superiority. Put simply, to Oliver the pig is nothing more than a dollars worth of bacon. (I may be over analyzing.)
Oliver’s famous speech about “planting little seeds in the rich soil,” was a running gag. It was always accompanied with a fife solo that played “Yankee Doodle” as Oliver rambled on. Oliver never heard the fife, but his wife would always comment and look for the source. This is called breaking the fourth wall and proof that Green Acres was ahead of its time. They used the same trick by letting the characters see and comment on the opening credits—now that’s comedy.
So the country can fall down around me, just give me a nightly dose of Joe Friday and Hooterville and for one brief hour all is right with the world.
To battle this feeling of impending doom I take part in a nightly ritual that I’ve found relieves stress and centers me from this paradox we call life. Some may say it’s a guilty pleasure or perhaps a tool used to deny reality. Whatever the case, I record two shows during the day through the miracle of the digital video recorded, or as I like to call it, “the magic box.” Then at ten o’clock each evening I slip the bonds of anxiety and drift into tranquility. Think of it like Petula Clark when she goes “Downtown.” Who? Forget it, just play along.
When I settle in the first television show on the docket is “Dragnet.” You remember this show starring straight-laced button-down cop, Joe Friday. Sure there’s bad acting, stiff dialogue, and a lot on awkward nodding, but this show is my portal to a world we’ll never see again. Dragnet was filmed in a day when guys smoked inside and coffee was considered lunch. There’s not a cell phone to be found and computers took up whole rooms. In those day’s men weren’t afraid to be men while women loved them for it. Political-correctness didn’t exist when Joe Friday pinched a suspect. In fact, the criminals actually confessed after Sergeant Friday went off on a five minute monologue about long hair, God, and country. His deep two-pack-a-day voice hardly came up for air when dressing down a suspect or lecturing a rookie officer on what it takes to be a cop. To Friday everything is black and white; gray areas are for punks, winos, hippies, and every other nonconformist that litter the streets.
What I wouldn’t give to have Joe Friday address Congress. I can just imagine Friday throwing Barney Frank in a chair and then spin him around.
Friday would say something like this, “Now you listen to me mister and listen good. I don’t know how you get your kicks, son, but I’ve dealt with your kind before. You think that socialism stuff you’re pushing is pretty cute, huh? Using tax payer’s money to redistribute wealth might get you a membership down at club Pink-O, but it doesn’t work with me. You sell that jazz to the useful idiots you call constituents or the freaks so loaded up on goofballs they buy into your warped sense of government. You may fool them, buster, but I’m armed with something you’ll never understand… (Pause for effect)… The Constitution.” (Cue the musical zinger.)
Sorry, my mind started to drift into another socialism rant.
So back to Dragnet, the lameness of the show is its beauty. It’s really nothing more than a thirty minute promotional film for the Los Angeles Police Department, but the matter-of-fact narration by Joe Friday made this show a classic. The concept of Friday, a confirmed bachelor, is a hoot. He has the same no nonsense approach with his dates as he does with the potheads he collars. Barney Fife (or Frank) is more comfortable with women, but that’s another show for another day. Watch this clip for a great Friday speech.
The second show of my nightly double feature is “Green Acres.” You know the story, a big city lawyer, Oliver Wendell Douglas, moves to the country to become a farmer. (What could possibly go wrong?)
This show is absolutely brilliant. The wit and satire (if you get it) is better than any shallow-minded-predictable-sitcom today. The plot is pure genius. This isn’t some cornpone “Hee-Haw” grits and gravy humor. Its high-class comedy cleverly wrapped around uneatable hotcakes, a telephone on top of a pole, and a pig that watches Westerns.
The entire town of Hooterville with the exception of Oliver Douglas is insane. By contrast this makes Oliver the crazy person. Okay, Oliver does wear a three-piece suit when planting corn, but he does take his jacket off when plowing the fields.
The show is capitalism at its best. Sam Drucker’s general store is the Walmart of Hooterville. Sam has everything from pickles in a barrel to tractor parts. Of course there’s Mr. Haney who could sell light bulbs to Edison. He’s dishonest as a day is long, but he always manages to have something Oliver needs and usually Haney closes the deal.
County agent, Hank Kimball, is a piece of work. The man hasn’t a clue as to who he is or what he does. In other words, Kimball is the typical government worker. Hank Kimball is the best character on the show, well not the best character on the show, maybe the second best, no he’s not that either. Who’s not? Kimball. Oh him, who’s that?
Another tour de force is Arnold Ziffel, the son of Doris and Fred Ziffel. One problem, Arnold is a pig and Oliver is the only one who understands this and refuses to accept the pig as an equal. It doesn’t help that everyone, except Oliver, is pig-lingual and can communicate fluently with the Arnold. On a deeper scale it could be a commentary on our social and economical intolerance as it relates to farm animals and the injustices the white man has incorporated to gain fiscal superiority. Put simply, to Oliver the pig is nothing more than a dollars worth of bacon. (I may be over analyzing.)
Oliver’s famous speech about “planting little seeds in the rich soil,” was a running gag. It was always accompanied with a fife solo that played “Yankee Doodle” as Oliver rambled on. Oliver never heard the fife, but his wife would always comment and look for the source. This is called breaking the fourth wall and proof that Green Acres was ahead of its time. They used the same trick by letting the characters see and comment on the opening credits—now that’s comedy.
So the country can fall down around me, just give me a nightly dose of Joe Friday and Hooterville and for one brief hour all is right with the world.
Monday, February 16, 2009
You can't spell sociaist without the CIA
Perhaps you’ve seen this email floating around. I found nothing in my search to discredit the quote of Norman Mattoon Thomas, so here is the email.
Norman Mattoon Thomas (November 20, 1884 - December 19, 1968 and some of us are old enough to remember him running for President) was a leading American socialist, pacifist, and six-time presidential candidate for the Socialist Party of America.
Norman Thomas said this in a 1944 speech:
"The American people will never knowingly adopt socialism. But, under the name of "liberalism," they will adopt every fragment of the socialist program, until one day America will be a socialist nation, without knowing how it happened." He went on to say: "I no longer need to run as a Presidential Candidate for the Socialist Party. The Democratic Party has adopted our platform."
During the Eisenhower administration Russian leader Nikita Khrushchev said this to US Agriculture Secretary Ezra Taft Benson.
“You Americans are so gullible. No, you won’t accept communism outright, but we’ll keep feeding you small doses of socialism until you’ll finally wake up and find you already have communism. We won’t have to fight you. We’ll so weaken your economy until you’ll fall like overripe fruit into our hands."
The drips and drabs of socialism have been leaking out for years. Now I’m afraid this latest stimulus program will open the floodgate to the United Socialist States of America. Without a shot fired we’ve surrendered. This is not President Obama’s fault; this is the government he and apparently all who voted for him wanted.
George Bush never vetoed a big spending bill so I’ll throw him under the bus and take my pound of flesh. Why Bush wasn’t the liberals golden boy, I’ll never know. The last conservative to live at the White House was Ronald Reagan. Since the Gipper, every President has taken up where FDR left off by adopting one socialist program after another. The fear, I guess, is that someone might actually fail in this land of opportunity. Well, guess what, it’s okay to fail. Failure is our compass, which directs us to success. Failure allows us to dream, failure ignites creativity, and most importantly failure teaches us lessons like humility and redemption. This is something the pinheads in Washington will never understand.
The more the government intervenes, the less we feel responsible for ourselves. The byproduct from this takes away our incentive, hard work, and reward.
Speaking of reward, this is another load of crap politicians like to spew. They’ve managed to make profit a dirty word. You hear President Obama separate the classes with great skill. He rips the rich by blaming them for your misfortune. It’s not your fault; it’s the CEO with his private jet and chauffeured driven limousine. (Daschle? Huh) It’s just not fair that the boss makes more money than you.
Failure and class envy are the two components, which breeds socialism. Throw in a willing congress and President who cut his teeth on leftist ideology what did you expect to happen?
Predictions from the past are here. We’ve slowly and deliberately squeezed our founding fathers principles into socialism and just like toothpaste it cannot be put back into the tube.
Norman Mattoon Thomas (November 20, 1884 - December 19, 1968 and some of us are old enough to remember him running for President) was a leading American socialist, pacifist, and six-time presidential candidate for the Socialist Party of America.
Norman Thomas said this in a 1944 speech:
"The American people will never knowingly adopt socialism. But, under the name of "liberalism," they will adopt every fragment of the socialist program, until one day America will be a socialist nation, without knowing how it happened." He went on to say: "I no longer need to run as a Presidential Candidate for the Socialist Party. The Democratic Party has adopted our platform."
During the Eisenhower administration Russian leader Nikita Khrushchev said this to US Agriculture Secretary Ezra Taft Benson.
“You Americans are so gullible. No, you won’t accept communism outright, but we’ll keep feeding you small doses of socialism until you’ll finally wake up and find you already have communism. We won’t have to fight you. We’ll so weaken your economy until you’ll fall like overripe fruit into our hands."
The drips and drabs of socialism have been leaking out for years. Now I’m afraid this latest stimulus program will open the floodgate to the United Socialist States of America. Without a shot fired we’ve surrendered. This is not President Obama’s fault; this is the government he and apparently all who voted for him wanted.
George Bush never vetoed a big spending bill so I’ll throw him under the bus and take my pound of flesh. Why Bush wasn’t the liberals golden boy, I’ll never know. The last conservative to live at the White House was Ronald Reagan. Since the Gipper, every President has taken up where FDR left off by adopting one socialist program after another. The fear, I guess, is that someone might actually fail in this land of opportunity. Well, guess what, it’s okay to fail. Failure is our compass, which directs us to success. Failure allows us to dream, failure ignites creativity, and most importantly failure teaches us lessons like humility and redemption. This is something the pinheads in Washington will never understand.
The more the government intervenes, the less we feel responsible for ourselves. The byproduct from this takes away our incentive, hard work, and reward.
Speaking of reward, this is another load of crap politicians like to spew. They’ve managed to make profit a dirty word. You hear President Obama separate the classes with great skill. He rips the rich by blaming them for your misfortune. It’s not your fault; it’s the CEO with his private jet and chauffeured driven limousine. (Daschle? Huh) It’s just not fair that the boss makes more money than you.
Failure and class envy are the two components, which breeds socialism. Throw in a willing congress and President who cut his teeth on leftist ideology what did you expect to happen?
Predictions from the past are here. We’ve slowly and deliberately squeezed our founding fathers principles into socialism and just like toothpaste it cannot be put back into the tube.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Meet the new greed, same as the old greed
We’ve all heard of “corporate greed” and its sidekick “Wall Street greed.” But perhaps the greediest of all greed goes unnoticed or at least unchallenged when talking about fat cats who profit from back room shenanigans. If the phase hasn’t been coined yet, then let me be the first to call it “Public Service Greed.”
Our poor economy was begat from public service greed. Congress, by abuse of power, called the shots to risky loans, which collapsed the housing market. Chris Dodd and Barney Frank were the ringleaders in this den of thieves. But it goes further and deeper than a couple of bozos that constantly get elected for no apparent reason
I’m talking about politicians putting their needs, wants, and desires ahead of the people they took an oath to serve. Which is worse, an oil executive making profits legally in a capitalist market, or an elected official selling favors to the highest bidder? Not only should an elected official be held to our standards, they should be a cut above without stagger or wobble. But we’ve come to accept public service greed with just a shrug of the shoulder while proclaiming Walmart is evil and corporate America is the diagnosis to every ill. Winning an election doesn’t mean you won the lottery. All too often that’s what happens when greedy politicians find loopholes through flimsy rules, or manage to forget about paying their taxes.
Tom Daschle is the poster boy for public service greed. He makes (earn is suspect) eighty-six thousand a month consulting. Most likely consulting is a code word for keeping an ex-senator in your back pocket for future use. Daschle feels the rules don’t apply to him; taxes are what the peasants pay. Who knows what would have gone on if Daschle were confirmed as secretary of health and human services? His wife is a well-known lobbyist—what could have possibly gone wrong? I pick on Daschle because he looks like a smarmy worm, but public service greed comes in all colors both Democrat and Republican alike.
Public service greed rips at the fiber that holds this country together. And somehow we must find a way to stitch righteousness back into our house before it’s too late. As citizens of this great country we are held accountable for our actions. Nothing states this clearer than paying taxes. However, Washington is full of tax cheats and inside corruption on the highest order. It bellows out of Capital Hill like a Chernobyl meltdown and infiltrates into the consciousness of the common man until we’re all mired in the muck of apathy.
We no longer care about honor or integrity; we want what’s in it for us. We vote for guys who promise us anything without understanding they’ll take everything. We buy into class envy by becoming outraged over executive’s salaries, but ignore the fact that congress cheats, steals, and lies their way to power, and power holds the key to everything.
I realize moral decline started when Adam bit the apple, but these clowns eat apples by the bushel without one sense of remorse. At least old Adam knew he was naked and felt ashamed, while the greed-mongers-of-Washington twist the shame on somebody else. And most of them can’t wait to get naked. (Hi Chris Dodd, how you doing?)
Power, greed, and corruption are not what our founding fathers had in mind when its citizens looked to their government. The toll taken on decency has finally bored a hole in our ship. She’s taking on water at breakneck speed and there’s not a bailout program to repair dignity or a stimulus package to overcome dishonesty. We’re led to believe that the answers lie in the same corrupt officials who placed this country in economic peril. We’re being sucked up in the ultimate shell game as the poundage of pork piles up at the trough. Public service greed-dwellers tell us we’ll spend our way out of this mess, they place fear in our heads in order to gain more power—it’s just that simple. This stimulus package is the first salvo in the battle for total government control. Soon we will have the odor of a third rate nation where individuals are beholden to a government that has no moral authority.
Nothing is more dangerous than a politician playing fast and loose with the constitution. But when you promise cradle to the grave protection from failure, that’s exactly what they’re doing. It’s funny, to a liberal the hardest thing to do is make it out of the womb. As a fetus you’re on your own partner, but that’s for another day.
How long before blogs like this disappear? You say it will never happen, well keep dreaming Mr. Kool-aid. We’re a “Fairness Doctrine” away from free speech and I know for a fact that the House of Representatives web browser has viewed this blog. I have a site meter that identifies traffic, and sure enough anytime I mention congressmen by name, boom, I get a hit from the House of Representatives. Coincidence? I think not. (Hello again Mr. Frank so glad you dropped by)
We reap what we sow.
Our poor economy was begat from public service greed. Congress, by abuse of power, called the shots to risky loans, which collapsed the housing market. Chris Dodd and Barney Frank were the ringleaders in this den of thieves. But it goes further and deeper than a couple of bozos that constantly get elected for no apparent reason
I’m talking about politicians putting their needs, wants, and desires ahead of the people they took an oath to serve. Which is worse, an oil executive making profits legally in a capitalist market, or an elected official selling favors to the highest bidder? Not only should an elected official be held to our standards, they should be a cut above without stagger or wobble. But we’ve come to accept public service greed with just a shrug of the shoulder while proclaiming Walmart is evil and corporate America is the diagnosis to every ill. Winning an election doesn’t mean you won the lottery. All too often that’s what happens when greedy politicians find loopholes through flimsy rules, or manage to forget about paying their taxes.
Tom Daschle is the poster boy for public service greed. He makes (earn is suspect) eighty-six thousand a month consulting. Most likely consulting is a code word for keeping an ex-senator in your back pocket for future use. Daschle feels the rules don’t apply to him; taxes are what the peasants pay. Who knows what would have gone on if Daschle were confirmed as secretary of health and human services? His wife is a well-known lobbyist—what could have possibly gone wrong? I pick on Daschle because he looks like a smarmy worm, but public service greed comes in all colors both Democrat and Republican alike.
Public service greed rips at the fiber that holds this country together. And somehow we must find a way to stitch righteousness back into our house before it’s too late. As citizens of this great country we are held accountable for our actions. Nothing states this clearer than paying taxes. However, Washington is full of tax cheats and inside corruption on the highest order. It bellows out of Capital Hill like a Chernobyl meltdown and infiltrates into the consciousness of the common man until we’re all mired in the muck of apathy.
We no longer care about honor or integrity; we want what’s in it for us. We vote for guys who promise us anything without understanding they’ll take everything. We buy into class envy by becoming outraged over executive’s salaries, but ignore the fact that congress cheats, steals, and lies their way to power, and power holds the key to everything.
I realize moral decline started when Adam bit the apple, but these clowns eat apples by the bushel without one sense of remorse. At least old Adam knew he was naked and felt ashamed, while the greed-mongers-of-Washington twist the shame on somebody else. And most of them can’t wait to get naked. (Hi Chris Dodd, how you doing?)
Power, greed, and corruption are not what our founding fathers had in mind when its citizens looked to their government. The toll taken on decency has finally bored a hole in our ship. She’s taking on water at breakneck speed and there’s not a bailout program to repair dignity or a stimulus package to overcome dishonesty. We’re led to believe that the answers lie in the same corrupt officials who placed this country in economic peril. We’re being sucked up in the ultimate shell game as the poundage of pork piles up at the trough. Public service greed-dwellers tell us we’ll spend our way out of this mess, they place fear in our heads in order to gain more power—it’s just that simple. This stimulus package is the first salvo in the battle for total government control. Soon we will have the odor of a third rate nation where individuals are beholden to a government that has no moral authority.
Nothing is more dangerous than a politician playing fast and loose with the constitution. But when you promise cradle to the grave protection from failure, that’s exactly what they’re doing. It’s funny, to a liberal the hardest thing to do is make it out of the womb. As a fetus you’re on your own partner, but that’s for another day.
How long before blogs like this disappear? You say it will never happen, well keep dreaming Mr. Kool-aid. We’re a “Fairness Doctrine” away from free speech and I know for a fact that the House of Representatives web browser has viewed this blog. I have a site meter that identifies traffic, and sure enough anytime I mention congressmen by name, boom, I get a hit from the House of Representatives. Coincidence? I think not. (Hello again Mr. Frank so glad you dropped by)
We reap what we sow.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Do you remember these?
Running a 10 miler this weekend and between mile 6 and 7 the old iPod spits out this tune. It’s a Statler Brothers song….yes I said Statler Brothers. Anyway, the song is called “Do You Remember These.”
It’s a bouncy tune and easy to run to, but my how times have changed. Give the lyrics a read or click here for a listen Do You Remember These…. By the way, this stuff was before my time.
Saturday morning serials chapters 1 through 15,
Fly paper, penny loafers, Lucky Strike Green.
Flat tops, sock hops, Studebaker, Pepsi Please,
Ahh, do you remember these?
Cigar Bands, on your hand, your daddy's socks rolled down.
Sticks, snow floats and aviator caps with flaps that button down.
Movie stars on Dixie Cup tops, and knickers to your knees,
Ahh, do you remember these?
The Hit Parade, grape Tru-Aid, The Sadie Hawkins Dance,
Pedal pushers, duck tail hair and peggin' your pants.
Howdie-Doodie, Tutti-Frutti, the seam up the back of her hose,
Ahh, do you remember those?
James Dean, he was keen, Sunday movies were taboo,
The Senior Prom, Judy's mom, Rock-n-Roll was new.
Cracker Jack prize, stars in your eyes, as Daddy tore the keys,
Ahh, do you remember these?
The boogey man, lemonade stands, takin' your tonsils out,
Hindenburg, -n- wait your turn, and 4 foul balls you're out.
Cigarette loads, -n- secret codes, -n- savin' lucky stars,
Can you remember back that far?
The boat neck shirts, and fender skirts and crinoline petticoats,
Mum's the word, and a dirty bird and a double root beer float.
Moon hub caps, and loud heel taps, and he's a real gone cat.
Ahh, do you remember that?
Dancin' close, little moron jokes, and cooties in her hair,
Captain Midnight, Ovaltine, and The Whip at the County Fair.
Charles Atlas Course, Roy Roger's Horse, and "only The Shadow knows"
Ahh, do you remember those?
Gable's charm, Frog in your arm, loud mufflers, pitchin' woo,
Going steady, Veronica and Betty, white bucks, and "Blue Suede Shoes"
Knock Knock jokes, and "Who's there?", Dewey, Dewey who?;
Do we, do we remember these? Yes, we do, Ahh do we do we remember these?
Monday, January 26, 2009
The show is over... get back to work.
The Obama Presidency will bring on a lot of things, but perhaps none more satisfying than returning Hollywood back to it normal and rightful state. Over the past eight years nut-jobs from the left coast have bellowed their political views out into the real word via blogs, talk shows, and countless award ceremonies, where in between patting themselves on the back they complained about evil America, George Bush in particular.
Their arrogance didn’t allow them to see how embarrassing they looked sucking up to dictators and organized groups who’d like to end our way of life, (which includes free speech and the film industry.)
Now that Tinseltown is in a drunken state of Obama-nation it’s time for the trained clowns to climb into their little cars and get back to the things they do best.
Sean Penn can go back to domestic assault and holding photographers out of ninth-floor balconies.
Ashton Kutcher can take a few acting classes and actually play a role that doesn’t make me cringe over his laughable thespian skill.
Tom Hanks can go back to his self-inflated ego and continue to believe he’s this generations Jimmy Stewart. However, Mr. Stewart actually wore this countries uniform while Hanks saved the fictional Private Ryan.
Steven Spielberg can go back to making movies about ”Hitler’s Holocaust” while continuing to ignore the holocaust most of the Middle East wants to inflict on Israel today.
Bruce Springsteen can get back to making albums nobody buys. Hey Bruce, a liberal President started the Vietnam War write a song about it.
Oprah can get back to her diet and having guest that talk to the dead, (or whatever house frau’s like to watch.)
Sean Penn can write an open letter to Fidel Castro praising his humanity towards the Cuban people.
George Carlin can rest in peace now that an elected governor doesn’t sit in the Oval Office.
Barbara Streisand can go back to singing and I can go back covering my ears.
Michael Moore can go back to making films about evil George Bush. (Come on, he’s a one-trick-pony)
Sean Penn can finally go to a socialized country without leaving the US. (Sean, you will need to turn your bank account over to the state. You know, the whole to each according to their needs thing.)
Oliver Stone, (see above Michael Moore.)
Demi Moore can pledge not to come up with goofy names for her children.
Bill Maher can go back to being funny. Hey wait a minute, he never was!
Matt Damon can go back to being a pompous actor instead of being a pompous lecturer on how the US misbehaves.
Tim Robbins can go back to making such acclaimed and dialogue driven masterpieces as “Howard the Duck.” Now the only “chill wind” Robbins should feel is from his dingbat wife, or girlfriend, or whatever she is.
Alec Baldwin can go back to telling his daughter how to live. I just hate it when “little pigs” disrespect their father.
Sean Penn can go back to Venezuela and celebrate Obama’s election with Hugo Chavez. Maybe old Hugo will let Penn film “Fast Times at Ridgemont High Two.” I can just imagine Jeff Spicoli (Penn) wandering down the streets of Venezuela shouting, “Hey bud, let’s party.”
Like water, Hollywood seeks its own level when forces of an election sway in their favor. Celebrate America; duct tape is securely over the mouths of elite “do as I say, not as I do” left coast lunatics who tend to spout off about their importance to the world. We have at least four years of bliss thanks to my President, yes my President Obama.
Although I didn’t vote for President Obama, unlike Hollywood when things don’t go my way, I’m able to respect our President no matter how much I disagree with his policies.
Don’t get me wrong; celebrities have every right to speak their minds. It’s not, repeat not un-American to have imperious views. Freedom has big shoulders and can easily carry the load of criticism heaped its way. That’s what separates us from Penn loving countries. Censorship is a bad thing, however my choice not to buy what they’re selling is protected under the same rights.
Now that the Obama administration is up and running, the only reason any member of the Screen Actors Guild should open their mouth is-- if there’s a script in front of it. And doesn’t that make us all winners?
Their arrogance didn’t allow them to see how embarrassing they looked sucking up to dictators and organized groups who’d like to end our way of life, (which includes free speech and the film industry.)
Now that Tinseltown is in a drunken state of Obama-nation it’s time for the trained clowns to climb into their little cars and get back to the things they do best.
Sean Penn can go back to domestic assault and holding photographers out of ninth-floor balconies.
Ashton Kutcher can take a few acting classes and actually play a role that doesn’t make me cringe over his laughable thespian skill.
Tom Hanks can go back to his self-inflated ego and continue to believe he’s this generations Jimmy Stewart. However, Mr. Stewart actually wore this countries uniform while Hanks saved the fictional Private Ryan.
Steven Spielberg can go back to making movies about ”Hitler’s Holocaust” while continuing to ignore the holocaust most of the Middle East wants to inflict on Israel today.
Bruce Springsteen can get back to making albums nobody buys. Hey Bruce, a liberal President started the Vietnam War write a song about it.
Oprah can get back to her diet and having guest that talk to the dead, (or whatever house frau’s like to watch.)
Sean Penn can write an open letter to Fidel Castro praising his humanity towards the Cuban people.
George Carlin can rest in peace now that an elected governor doesn’t sit in the Oval Office.
Barbara Streisand can go back to singing and I can go back covering my ears.
Michael Moore can go back to making films about evil George Bush. (Come on, he’s a one-trick-pony)
Sean Penn can finally go to a socialized country without leaving the US. (Sean, you will need to turn your bank account over to the state. You know, the whole to each according to their needs thing.)
Oliver Stone, (see above Michael Moore.)
Demi Moore can pledge not to come up with goofy names for her children.
Bill Maher can go back to being funny. Hey wait a minute, he never was!
Matt Damon can go back to being a pompous actor instead of being a pompous lecturer on how the US misbehaves.
Tim Robbins can go back to making such acclaimed and dialogue driven masterpieces as “Howard the Duck.” Now the only “chill wind” Robbins should feel is from his dingbat wife, or girlfriend, or whatever she is.
Alec Baldwin can go back to telling his daughter how to live. I just hate it when “little pigs” disrespect their father.
Sean Penn can go back to Venezuela and celebrate Obama’s election with Hugo Chavez. Maybe old Hugo will let Penn film “Fast Times at Ridgemont High Two.” I can just imagine Jeff Spicoli (Penn) wandering down the streets of Venezuela shouting, “Hey bud, let’s party.”
Like water, Hollywood seeks its own level when forces of an election sway in their favor. Celebrate America; duct tape is securely over the mouths of elite “do as I say, not as I do” left coast lunatics who tend to spout off about their importance to the world. We have at least four years of bliss thanks to my President, yes my President Obama.
Although I didn’t vote for President Obama, unlike Hollywood when things don’t go my way, I’m able to respect our President no matter how much I disagree with his policies.
Don’t get me wrong; celebrities have every right to speak their minds. It’s not, repeat not un-American to have imperious views. Freedom has big shoulders and can easily carry the load of criticism heaped its way. That’s what separates us from Penn loving countries. Censorship is a bad thing, however my choice not to buy what they’re selling is protected under the same rights.
Now that the Obama administration is up and running, the only reason any member of the Screen Actors Guild should open their mouth is-- if there’s a script in front of it. And doesn’t that make us all winners?
Monday, January 19, 2009
Sign, sign, everywhere a sign.
Obama Nation is barely off the ground, but why does it seem like he’s been President for years? By the sounds, impressions, and euphoria over this man I get the sense of Germany circa 1930, or perhaps Castro descending from the mountains claiming his version of “change.”
As a country our symbols have always been the flag, the constitution, and the freedom to speak our minds. Propping up photos of leaders was something insecure countries did to show their loyalty to a man, not an idea.
If you ever looked at political rallies in other countries, no doubt, you saw photo-lined-streets of whatever dictator of the day. China, Korea, Cuba and so on, all have a creepy brained washed tone when citizens gather paying homage to their king. This blind cult-like worship seemed so foreign to me, and dare I say it, “Un-American?”
I believe we should support our President whether we voted for him or not. However, what I’m seeing goes beyond that. Photos of Obama are beginning to take on that creepy tone. First, they are everywhere. Have you seen the bumper stickers with the odd silhouette of Obama? The pose and design reminds me of the Che Guevara signs used in the 60’s. This frenzy is past amusing and slipping into dangerous. I’m hearing some want him on Mt. Rushmore, the dollar bill, and the 22nd Amendment repealed. One city wants an “Obama Day” (George Washington doesn’t even get that). And a town in Florida has named a street after him.
Airport newsstands look more like a shrine to the king in waiting than an outlet for unbiased information. The inauguration has taken on a life of its own. Several non-traditional news media are covering the event, ESPN, Nickelodeon, QVC, and HBO, just to name a few. President Bush even declared a state of emergency so more tax dollars could be pumped into an already inflated ego-fest.
NBC, which stands for the National Broadcasting Company, has an online store. For $24.00 you can buy an Obama T-shirt with that same creepy silhouette and the slogan reads, “Yes we did,” (objective journalism, huh?) Am I the only one to find this troubling? NBC is humping and making a profit from “Team Obama” merchandise. I get the feeling we’re one goose step away from raising our right arm and shouting,”Heil Obama.”
Obama has already been compared to Lincoln, Kennedy, and FDR. Maybe I’m old-school, but great Presidents earn the title and lived in the White House for at least a day. And truly great Presidents blaze their own trail and are compared to no one.
Who will mind the store so our rights won’t disappear off the shelves? Yeah, yeah, I know Bush was evil and all that, but he’s left the classroom and Obama isn’t just a substitute teacher. The man will have to go to work and his plan for this country needs a watchful eye, not a rubber stamp.
Regardless of what you hear, see, or think, Obama does not walk on water. Chances are he puts his pants on one leg at a time and he’s sat on a toilet or two. He’s not too big to fail and the color of his skin has nothing to do with his Presidential success.
Although Obama won, it doesn’t mean everyone voted for him. His policies reflect one of FDR and I wouldn’t have voted for him either, so don’t assume only a racist wanted Obama to lose.
Whatever hype put him here should be tempered with sobering issues. Of course to get sober, one must have a hangover. Let’s hope the Kool-Aid wears off soon.
Click on the Obama train below and take a ride.
Che Guevara pose
NBC store
Obama on Mt. Rushmore
Obama stamp
Obama money
As a country our symbols have always been the flag, the constitution, and the freedom to speak our minds. Propping up photos of leaders was something insecure countries did to show their loyalty to a man, not an idea.
If you ever looked at political rallies in other countries, no doubt, you saw photo-lined-streets of whatever dictator of the day. China, Korea, Cuba and so on, all have a creepy brained washed tone when citizens gather paying homage to their king. This blind cult-like worship seemed so foreign to me, and dare I say it, “Un-American?”
I believe we should support our President whether we voted for him or not. However, what I’m seeing goes beyond that. Photos of Obama are beginning to take on that creepy tone. First, they are everywhere. Have you seen the bumper stickers with the odd silhouette of Obama? The pose and design reminds me of the Che Guevara signs used in the 60’s. This frenzy is past amusing and slipping into dangerous. I’m hearing some want him on Mt. Rushmore, the dollar bill, and the 22nd Amendment repealed. One city wants an “Obama Day” (George Washington doesn’t even get that). And a town in Florida has named a street after him.
Airport newsstands look more like a shrine to the king in waiting than an outlet for unbiased information. The inauguration has taken on a life of its own. Several non-traditional news media are covering the event, ESPN, Nickelodeon, QVC, and HBO, just to name a few. President Bush even declared a state of emergency so more tax dollars could be pumped into an already inflated ego-fest.
NBC, which stands for the National Broadcasting Company, has an online store. For $24.00 you can buy an Obama T-shirt with that same creepy silhouette and the slogan reads, “Yes we did,” (objective journalism, huh?) Am I the only one to find this troubling? NBC is humping and making a profit from “Team Obama” merchandise. I get the feeling we’re one goose step away from raising our right arm and shouting,”Heil Obama.”
Obama has already been compared to Lincoln, Kennedy, and FDR. Maybe I’m old-school, but great Presidents earn the title and lived in the White House for at least a day. And truly great Presidents blaze their own trail and are compared to no one.
Who will mind the store so our rights won’t disappear off the shelves? Yeah, yeah, I know Bush was evil and all that, but he’s left the classroom and Obama isn’t just a substitute teacher. The man will have to go to work and his plan for this country needs a watchful eye, not a rubber stamp.
Regardless of what you hear, see, or think, Obama does not walk on water. Chances are he puts his pants on one leg at a time and he’s sat on a toilet or two. He’s not too big to fail and the color of his skin has nothing to do with his Presidential success.
Although Obama won, it doesn’t mean everyone voted for him. His policies reflect one of FDR and I wouldn’t have voted for him either, so don’t assume only a racist wanted Obama to lose.
Whatever hype put him here should be tempered with sobering issues. Of course to get sober, one must have a hangover. Let’s hope the Kool-Aid wears off soon.
Click on the Obama train below and take a ride.
Che Guevara pose
NBC store
Obama on Mt. Rushmore
Obama stamp
Obama money
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