Back In The Blogger's Seat

Interesting the effect that jury duty and trying to replace lost billable hours will have on one's blog, should you in fact have a blog, as I do. I got two weeks "off" and to the powers that be, it looks like I took a two-week vacation but sitting in that courtroom for two weeks was far from it. Since my professional success and compensation are measured in large part by how many clients I have and how much I bill every year, being on jury duty has put a crimp -- no, let's call it a crAmp -- on my employment, the trickle down effect of which has also cramped my style when it comes to posting regularly.

So with that mea culpa out of the way and as I continue working on a longer piece that I hope to post this weekend, let me hit the reset button and throw a few random thoughts up in here.


I'm quickly realizing that I'm a much bigger Obama fan than I am a Democratic Party fan. He's only been in office two months, but I really like the way he's approaching things and the way he clearly explains his thinking and what he's trying to do. He's stuck between two poles: dealing with seriously P.O.'ed Americans whose pockets were, and are continuing to get picked by corporate greed; and recognizing that the only way out of this mess, is to allow more corporate pick-pocketing. The guy really can't win because he can't make everyone happy, but you wouldn't know it because he's as cool as they come. What sitting President does Leno? What sitting President laughs at these problems on 60 Minutes? As John McCain would say, "That one." I love it. His political enemies are so desperate to lower his approval rating that they've taken to criticizing small shit like his use of a teleprompter and the fact that he went on Leno. It's ridiculous. George Bush spent 40% of his Presidency on vacation; Obama's been in office two months and they're ripping him for doing a 20 minute spot on a late night talk show? Please. Is that all you've got?

He is the Black Ronald Reagan. Barring any kind of sex scandal or a crack-pot trying to take him out, he's a two-termer. He's just too smooth. Sure, he'll do something dumb out of hubris in the second term (the guy does like himself a little too much), but we'll get a good six years out of him or so.

As for the Democratic Party, what a bunch of pansy fuckups. They haven't played this stimulus bill out wisely. At all. With their inability to exercise discretion on the programs they're spending our money on and learn from the Republicans' mistakes, they should expect to be turned out in large numbers in 2010. I know it's early, but these fools don't seem to have learned anything from the Republicans' foibles the past six years. It's a bit like watching one of those grainy black and white movies where you see all these nutty people driving Model T's in the middle of a city with no traffic lights. Who the hell is in charge? Why do they think pork is acceptable at a time like this? Does anyone in Congress have a brain? Now I hear some of them are defecting on the spending package because they're up for re-election and don't want to be labeled as big spenders by their future opponents. Then you have dirty coal-state Democrats like Robert Byrd blocking Obama's efforts to improve our policies on global warming.

Let me tell you something that you should already know. There's no difference between the two political parties in this country when it comes to self-interest and perpetuating their own power. All they care about is getting re-elected, not doing well by this country. Obama would do well to chart his own course and show the Democratic Party the back side of his hand every once in awhile. He seems to be doing a bit more of that now, but I didn't like how he gave Pelosi et al. the steering wheel on the budget and this stimulus package. Not that The Party of NO! is any better. Top to bottom, they're pathetic and transparent. Jindal is a joke and Eric Cantor is the biggest douche-face I've seen since Tom Delay. The guy hasn't met a camera he didn't want to fellate and he sniffs out free publicity like Toucan Sam chasing Froot Loops.

So much to be done and so many ineptiks in power to perpetuate this mess.

Rarely have I appreciated my job more than right now. We all piss and moan about work and all the things wrong with our jobs and the people who make decisions about our fate, blah blah. But when the shit hits the Stop sign, I realize how dependent I am on my job for all my necessities, wants, pleasures, and the freedom that I enjoy. That's when I understand that my job is my lifeline. It's the fountain from which all happiness springs. You can't travel without a job to pay for it. You can't save for a car or a house or clothes or that lovely leather murse if you don't have a job to leverage your materialism. Of course, the merits of full employment are easily taken for granted when I'm mired in work and killing too many Saturdays in the office. But not right now. Now, I WANT to work more. Which makes me despise this recession even more. Damn you, Recession, for making me even more of a slave and happy about it! Damn you for binding me closer to the alienation of which Marx spake!

Whither the Kindle? Do I need a Kindle? No. I can get by reading a normal book in my hand and buying the occasional newspaper. Neither will stop me from getting one, however. Raise your hand if you don't know what the fuck a Kindle is. Luddites.

Whither the Watchmen Movie? I went out and bought the graphic novel to see what the fuss was all about. Also, Time magazine had picked it as one of the 100 best all-time books. I really enjoyed it. Some weird-ass superheros though. A guy who dresses like an owl? Another who calls himself The Comedian? Who came up with this? Dr. Manhattan, well that's a cool name, I like that. I'm not sure how I missed it when it came out in 1988, but the story works and has stood the test of time. Now the question is, do I ruin it all by seeing the movie, which purists have sworn off, or do I leave it alone? I don't know. Maybe I'll ask Kindle and see what he thinks.

Total number of Palestinians killed in the recent Gaza conflict: 1400, including 900 civilians. Total Israelis killed: 13. Hmmmm. Disproportionate, much? New York-based Human Rights Watch is calling the Israelis' indiscriminate use of white phosphorus in densely populated areas a war crime. Who am I to disagree? Hamas is being pegged for its war crime of deliberately shooting rockets at civilian targets in Israel, this which precipitated the Israeli invasion, according to Israel. Me, I think it was more Obama's election that precipitated the Israeli invasion. They had to get their last licks in and try and decapitate Hamas before Obama came in and took away W's blank check, so-far-up-Israel's-ass-that-his-head-came-out-in-Tel-Aviv policy. Why can't anyone in this country criticize Israel without being villified? How is it in our national interest to go along with everything Israel does? Aren't there as many Israelis as Americans out there who think their country's foreign policy sucks a lot of the time? There have to be.

Disturbing environmental factoid of the week: Scientists are discovering with increasing regularity traces of prescription drugs in our water supply. Our rivers in particular are loaded with it. Scientists are also finding that due to their constant exposure to the water, many fish and frogs are loaded with all kinds of pharmaceuticals: bipolar medication, anti-depressants, high cholesterol drugs, high blood pressure and allergy medication, among others. Doesn't that sound great? Now we can all take Paxil and Zoloft just by eating sushi. Cut out the middle-man, that's what I say!

Don't look now, but Mexico is exploding. It's the new Colombia. While we cavort around and engage in an ill-advised military adventure a world away, Americans are being killed right next door, in our very own neighborhood, and it's barely making headlines. Mexico's political system is hopelessly corrupt. Politicians and cops on the take, pay-offs galore, and cartels who have their own armies. I don't see any end to it either because the DEMAND for the drugs that these entrepreneurs are selling is VERY HIGH here in these UNITED STATES. Americans like their Mary Juana and Coke-hyena. Kill the demand, you kill the industry.

All this wasted money on a "drug war" that is rotting from the inside out, swallowing itself. Mark my words: Mexico is on the verge of a civil war. There is too much poverty and corruption for things to continue too much longer without blowing up in a big way. Then we'll see what REAL illegal immigration is like. Except instead of calling them "refugees" like we would if they came from Cuba, we'll deport them as quickly as possible.

This just in: Octomom once worked as a stripper. Perfect! Octomom, I've got just the guy for you. Have you met A-Rod? A-Rod, Octomom. This'll be perfect. A-Rod, you've got the $$$ to take care of Octomom and her 14 kids, and Octomom, you're just nutty enough to make A-Rod look stable. Two great tastes that go great together. Mazel Tov!

Thanks for Nothing

I'm sitting in a car dealership in southern New Hampshire, waiting for my replacement all-weather tires, so I can drive in bad weather without worrying about a repeat of this experience. Thanksgiving was okay this year, nothing out of the ordinary, but any joy I could take at having a few days off and spending time with family was tempered by the sickening news out of Mumbai, which reminded me, once again, of the sad and dangerous world we're living in. When I was a kid, nuclear war was the thing we worried about, news of ICBMs launched from the Soviet Union and landing in Omaha, Boston and Houston, and wiping whole populations in a flash of light and fire. The disturbingly real t.v. movie The Day After, which depicted the aftermath of a nuclear strike on a Midwestern town brought it home by showing people vaporized in an instant, their skeleton shadows cast against concrete buildings. I had nightmares for a week. I couldn't get the image of Jason Robards out of my head, him stumbling around, delirious from radiation, waving a rifle at hungry, hair-depleted scavengers who were threatening to loot his house for food.

When the Cold War ended, I thought my fear of falling victim to an indiscriminate violent death was in the past. I should have known that's not how human history works. There's a horrific, karmic symmetry to the way human beings keep repeating their mistakes and, in some ways, making them worse. Napoleon invades Russia in winter and ultimately loses the war. Hitler does the same. The Roman Empire over-extends and bankrupts itself. The British Empire does the same. And the American Empire is doing it again right now. An oppressive wall finally goes down in Berlin, signaling freedom and the removal of ideological separation. Two decades later, two walls go up in Israel and the southern United States, signaling separation and failure. The United States funds and supports Islamic fundamentalists to help defeat the Soviet Union in Afghanistan. Two decades later, the same Islamists attack New York and Washington D.C. and kill 2700 Americans. We drop two nuclear bombs on Japan and... well, let's leave that one alone for now.

Living in New York, it's perfectly fair, indeed realistic, to assume that in my lifetime, perhaps sooner than I'd like to believe, we'll see another Mumbai or Madrid-style attack, possibly on the very subway and building (Grand Central) I travel to each day for work. It's scary to think about, but let's be real, for determined psychopaths with access to deadly ammunition, a massacre is impossible to stop without turning this country into a police state and bringing transportation to a standstill. The stories out of Mumbai were excruciating to watch, the blood in the hotel lobby, the beautiful Taj hotel going up in flames, the remorseless killing of women and children, purely for the body count. Each lifeless body is a tiny notch on the terrorist hatebelt. It makes me wonder, is there any honor among terrorists? Was there ever one? Sound like stupid questions, yes, but at one point, didn't terrorists have rules about who they killed and why?

If they ever had rules, they're gone now. In this age of the devaluing of human life, of Grand Theft Auto, planes flying into buildings, of Virginia Tech and Columbine, AK-47s and bunkerbusters, Daisy Cutters and serial killers, human trafficking, Saw IV, Hostel II, and torture porn, and smart bombs and Predator drones, the headlines go to the biggest, flashiest, and bloodiest massacres. The more audacious the attack, the bigger and more diverse the body count, the larger and more dramatic the stage, the more the world pays attention. The longer the world pays attention, the greater the glory of the perpetrators of these acts. They want something, they always do, but now, their political goals seem far less important than their egotistical narcissism, their deep-seated desire to do in death what they couldn't do in life: Be important. Make a headline. Just for a day. These nobodies have a political ideology, but it's their goal to BE SOMEBODY that takes precedence, that leads them into death themselves. Their own lives are expendable. Glory and bringing "honor" to their name is all that matters. It's damaged egos run amok. It's Virginia Tech and Columbine on a much larger scale. There are no rules. There is no mercy. There's just blood on the floor.

It's hard to feel good, living in a world like this. I drive around New Hampshire, which is small and peaceful and clean, and I can't shake the feeling that places like this aren't living in the real world. They're removed from things and the bad stuff they see on television is happening somewhere else (it is). By contrast, people living in cities like New York and Tokyo and Mumbai and London and Tel Aviv and Madrid and Beirut and Kabul are fighting a quiet, personal war each day: a war against fear. A war against the desire to run away, to move, to get out, to withdraw, to go somewhere safe. A war against statistics and probabilities. I work in place X, I take Y train, it's a Tuesday before a holiday, it's the 11th or the 7th or the 15th, it's 8:30 a.m., the military guys in green fatigues and holding machine guns are not paying attention, they're flirting with cute tourists. Is this the day? What will I hear first? Will I see something or hear something first? Will it take me out for good, will I just see black, or will I be maimed or burned horribly for the rest of my life? Will I be in my office, or on the ground floor going up the escalator? Will I run? Will there be a stampede, or will people just stand there like blinded deer?

Not every day. I don't calculate the probabilities every day. But at least once a week it runs through my head. And not in any freaked out kind of way, either. It's more like a rational, clear, dispassionate kind of analysis What if? It's like trying to decide which highway to take, or which cereal to buy. Deep down you convince yourself that by thinking about it, it won't happen, that you're inoculating bad luck with your paranoid thoughts. The reality is, it could happen if you live in the wrong place (I do), and happen to cross karmic paths with the wrong people on the wrong day.

Someone asked me the other day if I'd ever thought of leaving New York, if I ever get tired of the threats and warnings, like the one we got last week about the subways and trains being targets. Sure I have. Most people who live in New York have at least thought about leaving, especially after 9/11. There's a bullseye on this city and it's going to get hit again, it's just a matter of time. New York symbolizes the best and worst of the United States. That's why it's a target. That and there are a lot of people here. So why the hell stay and live in a danger zone? For me, it's pretty simple. I love it here, and I don't want to leave. Why the fuck should I? Apart from the fact that I love the city, turning tail and altering my life path based on fear is not the way I want to approach whatever days I have left. I just couldn't do it. If I ever do leave, it'll be for reasons that I choose (a family, more space), not because fear and a bunch of cowardly and sad fanatics forced me out. Either that, or I'll go down with whatever may be coming here. Of course I hope it doesn't happen, or that I'm somewhere safe if it does, but if it does happen, then it was meant to happen, and if I were living somewhere else, somewhere safe, I probably would have choked to death on a Ritz cracker that day. You can't worry about these things, you just have to live your life. Some things are worth dying for, and the freedom to live where I choose and experience this place each day is one of them.

So... it wasn't a great Thanksgiving this time. The human race, which is capable of great things when it operates for good, just showed us, once again, what it can do when it dedicates itself to the opposite, to death and destruction. We're amazingly good at the latter. Too good for our own good. It's now up to the world to swing the pendulum back the other way and keep it there for awhile. Then we'll have something to be thankful for.

FF - Obama Girl

Well, if there's three things I'm passionate about, it's politics, parody, and pulchritudinous women. This week's FF f'n brings it with all three.

As you may recall, a few days ago, we saw a big upset in the New Hampshire Primary. The much-maligned, once-political-juggernaut Hillary Clinton was down and almost out. In last Saturday's debate, she took more punches than a Mike Tyson speedbag. First, from the dashing trial lawyer turned populist John Edwards, then from Mr. Change himself, Barack Obama. But miraculously, Hillary came back from a double-digit deficit to beat Obama by 3 percentage points.

What happens now??? Was Obama just a flash in the pan, the 2008 version of Howard Dean? Did he peak too soon? Does he have the huevos to compete in South Carolina, Nevada, and Michigan?

Oh yes he does. You probably didn't know, but Mr. Obama's been hiding a secret weapon, his version of the Kerry Swift Boat. She's young, she's sexy, she's sassy, and they call her Obama Girl. Here she is, in all her strumpety glory:



Bitch ain't scared of anything. Here she is, taking on Guiliani Girl:



Watch out, Hillary! Obama Girl's comin' to getya!

(Uh... does Michelle Obama know about this?)

Axis of Evil: 3 - U.S.: 0

Welcome to the Nuclear Club, Kim Jong Il!

Here, slip on your new, black, silk robe. This signifies your acceptance into this unique group of nuclear nations. Don't be paranoid, Kim. Your robe IS authentic. See, it has the signature atom symbol on the back and the yellow skull and crossbones on the shoulders. It even has your name written in cursive on the front left lapel, see? We wouldn't trick you like that. Oh and we special ordered your robe in an XXXS, triple-extra-small so that it would fit a man of your stature. It was made in um... South Korea, I hope you don't mind.

Take a look to your left. See that stone eagle on the pedestal over there? If you pull its head and yank it down, that bookcase behind you will swivel around and..... There you go Kim! Now, follow me down this circular stone staircase -- watch your step, it's pretty steep. Yes, that's the entrance door there, solid steel. Let me work the door lock combination: "6-6-6," and... we're in!

Take a look around, my friend. Pretty posh, eh? Yeah, that candelabra is from the 14th century -- got it in Venice. Those antique chairs that President Hu and Ehud Olmert are sitting in are from Versailles -- Chirac brought them over himself. Yeah, that's Bushie sitting in the huge leather chair by the fireplace, smoking a doobie. Now, now, let's let bygones be bygones. Give him a friendly wave to make peace. Nicely done, Kim! Honestly, I wasn't sure you had it in you. Bushie can't attack you now that you're nuclear, can he? Ha, ha, ha... we're all friends in here! "Smiles everyone, smiles!"

Go have a seat on that plush red velvet sofa over there and relax. Yes, right between Pervez and Jacques -- there's a small space there with your name on it. Comfortable isn't it? I bet they don't make them like this in North Korea, do they? Oh man, lighten up. I wasn't casting aspersions, relax! Damn, you are sensitive.

Here, here's a cigar to celebrate your new status. Let me light it for you. You're right, it's Cuban. Castro's sick, so we're going to be sending in the EHMs and jackals pretty soon to take care of bidness. What's an EHM? Haven't you read "Confessions of an Economic Hitman"? No? You don't have any books in North Korea? No paper either? Well, here's a complimentary copy. After reading it, I think you might find that your famous paranoia about the United States was a tinkle justified. (Just don't tell Bushie I gave it to you, okay?)

Wait a second. Who is that short dude in the waiter's uniform? That guy with the thick, black beard and the beady little eyes who's serving Bushie a hot toddy. He sure looks familiar. Where have I seen him before? Oh oh, he and Bushie are having a little argument. Something about Lebanon and Syria. Really now, they're killing the mood in here! This is an exclusive club -- it says right on the door that arguing is not allowed. What kind of Neanderthal behavior is this?

Holy shit, that's not a waiter -- that's Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad!!! How the fuck did he get in here?! Kim, did you shut the door behind you when we came in? Why the hell are you smirking? This is NOT funny! Oh yeah, try and blame Pervez. I know it was you. Now we're fucked! We might get kicked out of here. Do you know what happens to members who break the rules? You don't want to know. This is not a good way to start things off, Kim. Not good at all! I am very disappointed in you.

Wait, now the members are taking a vote on what do do with Mahmoud. They are all in favor of keeping him in here except Bushie. I can't believe it, they're going to let him stay. Bushie is pee-ossed! He's completely red in the face, and he's looking over at Putin like he wants to take him outside for a spanking. Oh wait, they're smiling now. Whew - that didn't take long. Patting each other on the back, hugs all around. Bygones.

Bushie's on his cell now -- says he's calling his good buddy Koizumi. Looks like we may have another member joining us soon.

Funny how easy it is to make new friends once you join the Nuclear Club. Maybe "Mutually Assured Destruction" wasn't so bad after all. Do you remember M.A.D., Kim? M.A.D. was the doctrine that kept the U.S. and Soviet Union from destroying each other for nearly 30 years, right through the Cold War. Yeah, we had a couple of close calls with the Cuban Missile Crisis, and those periodic computer glitches over the years that nearly resulted in the annihilation of the entire planet, but it all worked out in the end, didn't it? I mean, look at us now, Kim! Look how well everyone is getting along in here!

Just do me a favor though, keep Mahmoud away from Olmert, or we're all fucked.