Free Lunch Conservatives

I like that term. I'm starting a list: Free Lunch Conservatives; Cheap Grace; inflated salvation.
More later.

Celebrity Watching


I watched Diane Sawyer interview Jennifer Anniston last night. Yawn. On both counts. Diane Sawyer's pablum serving delivery did nothing to warm Miss Iceberg up. Nothing she could ask made Ms. Anniston sound interesting or engaged. I watched as long as I could, flipping back and forth between something on PBS that was much more interesting. Towards the end of the interview, Ms. Sawyer asks Ms. Anniston to say something about her five co-stars that they probably don't know about themselves. Ah, shucks, Diane, that's powerful stuff. And wow, what an answer Ms. Anniston gives: Why, the tin man doesn't need a heart with all that love! And scarecrow, you're the smartest person here. You just need a degree. Or in the case of Courtney Cox, why Courtney, you're absolutely beautiful with an inner beauty! Oh please, dear Jesus. What drek.

We did learn that Jennifer got mad at her mother for a book her mother wrote that Diane tells us Jennifer felt was exploitive of her fame. Jennifer didn't have to say anything, and as inarticulate as she came across, it's a good thing. I hope both she and her mother live long enough for her to get over herself and beg her mother for forgiveness. The question she should be asking, is not whether her mother made any mistakes, but whether she did the best she could given the circumstances. Ms. Anniston is now old enough to interact with her mother as an adult, and the standard of expectation is different for adults than it is for young girls whose mothers drive off their daddys.

Thanks, Diane, for an evening of vapidity, yours and hers. (houston)

Mars, my Ass

Listening to NPR this morning, I heard that Bush is going to announce a new space exploration mission this week. Why? Did they hear that there was oil there and the locals were hiding terrorists? That's about the only reason I can think of that might warrant how this administration actually spends our money. They sure don't spend it on education where they said they would. This is actually an example of how much power the White House has in setting the agenda in an election. For the next week, reporters will be asking the Democrat presidential candidates what they think of the President's plan, not what they think of space exploration. Why? Because we're all for space exploration. It's like motherhood. Who's against it? That isn't the issue. The President's vacuous, attention getting "plan" is the issue. It's not going to fly. The President knows it won't fly. Everybody for it knows it won't fly. Everybody against it knows it won't fly. So why are we even saying the word "fly"? It's just bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit! I'm sick and tired of bullshit.

We need to be talking about what's going on. There's no reason talking about where we're going if we don't know where we are. (raven)

Happy New Year!

I'm back from the holidays. If you're curious, this is what I've been up to.


Well, Britney's back in the news. Is there any better example of how marriage has been trivialized by heterosexuals? I am not a proponent of Gay marriage. I am adamant about equal treatment of Gays and Lesbians, but I have never thought we should emulate a failed institution.

The Britney Spears Phenomenon

I don't get Britney Spears. She's the one we watched grow up on videos, right? She started out as a little girl on one of the star search shows. She's done well since then. I heard she heads a $200 million empire with dozens of employees. I watched her the other night as she was interviewed by Diane Sawyer. She came across as vacuous, sensitive, nice, trailer park White version of Michael Jackson except maybe not as perverted--yet.

Yeah, but can she sing? I'm not sure that's a requirement. Consider Bob Dylan. She's interesting though. I watched for 30 minutes before my mind wandered on to more important things. After 30 minutes I didn't know any more about her music than I did when I started watching. I know that she's rich, pretty, well known and widely recognized. If she lived next door I'd like her. So, enough about me and my lack of relationship with Britney.

One of the blogs on my list to the right is Toby. He reviewed Britney's new album for his college newspaper. It's very insightful. I never realized. Toby, you are so in the zone!

A Letter from West Virginia

Not exactly a letter, but my blog cousin, Sara, over at Hillbilly Sophisticate, is my single source for commentary about Jessica Lynch, our reluctant heroine. I agree with Sara. I thought Jessica was very composed, and surprisingly well spoken for someone not used to being in the public eye and speaking a lot. Diane Sawyer has always reeked of empathy, so she would have been my choice of all of the news models with whom we are familiar.

Have we learned anything from this entire episode? Probably not, but it is a cautionary tale.

Prayers placed gently upon the wind

A long time ago when my life was in a period of extreme turmoil, I was touched by an angel. Out of nowhere, I ran into a wall of calm. It was a profound experience. I never forgot the name of the person in the center of all that calm. I've always wondered what became of him. Last week I asked the gods of Google if they knew. They did.

I think the year was 1969, maybe 70, and Ben Torrey was about 18, maybe 19, fresh from Korea where he had been living with his parents at a primitive Christian community in the mountains of central Korea. It was called Jesus Abbey. This boy man radiated empathy and calm, as yet unspoiled by the American common culture. I think I was struck dumb. I've never forgotten him nor the impact I felt from just meeting him.

It was like getting a postcard from God telling me "oh by the way, you remember that nice young man you're always praying for? Well, he's doing pretty good. Just thought you'd like to know." Of course I wrote to him in an expression of my joy at having the opportunity to know that he was doing well.

Thanks, God. Ya' know, God, he's one of your better efforts.

The Right Christians

This is my favorite new blog this week. I'll tell more when I know more about them.

Obscure Bible Passage of the Day: Jeremiah 12:1-3

You will be in the right, O Lord, when I lay charges against you; but let me put my case to you. Why does the way of the guilty prosper? Why do all who are treacherous thrive? You plant them, and they take root; they grow and bring forth fruit; you are near in their mouths yet far from their hearts. But you, O Lord, know me; You see me and test me—my heart is with you. Pull them out like sheep for the slaughter, and set them apart for the day of slaughter.(NRSV)

Comment
Jeremiah wonders whether justice will ever come.

The Week-end

The fund raiser came off without a hitch and was enjoyed by all. My gumbo was fabulous, even if I say so myself. The boudin balls were a delightful surprise to my little group of California foodies. Ain't nothing like discovering a new food to make them go nuts. The weakest link in the dinner was the crab cocktails, but no one sticks their nose up at a generous serving of crab. I made Helen Corbitt's cocktail sauce which was a nice touch. Dessert was a freezer version of keylime pie.

Friday night, however, my car died. My poor old cadillac. I was cruising down Oak Street in San Francisco and suddenly every light on the dash came on, and there are a lot of them. I was warned that the engine was overheating, my electrical system was failing and then my power steering went out. I was sure the car was doomed.

Okay, when the car died Friday night, I parked it and walked away from it. I gave the s.o.b. to the universe. I refused to go near it on Saturday (NOT that I had time, but I didn't anyway). On Sunday I went into San Francisco and checked on it. It was fine. No parking tickets, depsite the fact that it was in a location that warned that street cleaning occurred daily. I did notice that there was a lack of signs of extreme motor duress. So, I blessed it again and promised I'd be back.

On Monday morning, I checked in with it again and still no tickets. At that point in time, if the rules had been followed, I could have had as many as a dozen parking tickets. Is that a sign from God or what? I called Triple A and had it towed to a garage recommended by the tow truck driver. It was close by. They took it in, diagnosed the problem, called me within an hour with an estimate, and by 4 o'clock, had my car ready. Bear in mind, I was ready to walk away from it as a hopeless and expensive cause. I did not blow the engine, I only lost a waterpump. So, once again, I have a car. I am so happy.

Well, not entirely. Do you ever do computer dating? I'm registered with several: Yahoo Singles, Chicago Singles, Planet Out (or some such shit), and occasionally I run ads on Craigs List. I'm not always sure I'm looking for someone, but as long as I'm single, I dutifully put bait on the hook and cast the line. About the only ads I never answer are the ones who are looking for a hairy chested alpha male. I am defintely not that, and besides, that's what I'm looking for. But I love to meet people. It's like an old fisherman who talks to everyone he sees. Since we're all looking for fish, we do have something in common and something to talk about.

So I answered an ad of this real cute guy who, by his own admission likes my stories, enjoys my writing, blah, blah, blah, but feels it necessary to write to me and tell me that our "chemistry" is not right. Excuse me? What chemistry? We haven't met yet. How can one determine "chemistry"? I think he wasn't honest in his ad, and that annoys me. A lot of guys won't say that they're only interested in White men, so they write an ad that is inclusive and then they just don't respond to Blacks. Same with HIV, same with age. Oh, well. Next?

Enlightenment

Sounds kind of pretentious to say it, but it means different things to different people. How about, I had an epiphany? Well, walking to work the other morning, suddenly, a light went off in my head. Oh. And I can couch it it buddhist terms, christian terms, California-new-age-let's-all-feel-good terms, but in the language of my people, I figgered something out. I figured out how to let go of some of the struggle. A weight was lifted off of my shoulders. A close friend dismissed it by saying it was just my drugs kicking in, but that's not true. It is true that I had a third cup of coffee that morning, but it was more than that.

For the past few months, I've been less energetic than usual. OH, hell, I was seriously depressed. Wasn't nothing wrong with me as far as I could tell. I was a year older and fatter, working at a dead-end job that I'm trying to milk out another half dozen years, have lost interest in a sexual relationship of any sort, what could I possibly have to be depressed about? On top of that, I felt like I was skiing down an expert slope and I'm a beginner. Everything was going a little too fast and I felt that I was in the last turn instead of the next. There was this layer of anxiety. I didn't feel like I could pull it off. I was losing control.

Control is an illusion, anyway, right? I have no control over anything. Never had. I surrendered that illusion Tuesday morning while walking to work. With that surrender came the most peaceful feeling. I'm three days into it, and maybe it won't last out the week and I'll go back to that steep slope, but I don't think so. But even if I do, I won't be quite as afraid as I was two or three weeks ago.

Tomorrow I'm cooking gumbo for 16 people I don't know. I donated a gumbo supper/cooking demonstration to my girlfriend's choral group, the San Francisco Choral Society. Usually we sell 4 slots for about $50 each. It's a total win-win situation. I get to have nice people come over for a smart party where I get to entertain in my best Louisiana or Texas accent, show off my china and silver, regale them with tales of my life on the bayous "back home." The choral society gets a $200 cash gift, the people get a lesson in making gumbo, and we have one fun afternoon. I play cajun music, ply them wine, and real good food. This year, a couple who bought tickets, asked if they could invite their cooking club along, adding 10 to the count. That's $800 to the chorus and oh, my god, I've got a crowd coming over to eat.

I've noticed that when one is depressed that their house cleaning skills seem to be one of the first things to go. I looked around my house and thought, oh my god, I can't let people see this mess. Then I remembered Tuesday's epiphany and thought, people aren't necessarily looking at the things you're pointing to. Sometimes they're just looking at you point. You know, I think my place is charming, just as it is. Is it a mess? No, I prefer to think it has a "lived in" feeling to it. Those people are coming to taste my gumbo, not to judge my housekeeping. (I will clean the cabinets, floors and bathrooms and put out flowers, but that's it! The tub doesn't need to be scrubbed--no one's going to be taking a bath, ya' know?)

I'm cooking chicken and sausage gumbo. The reason it takes a cooking lesson to cook gumbo right, is because you can't start with a recipe and do a traditional gumbo unless someone has showed you how. Why? Because you wouldn't know if you got it right or not. It's not because it's hard to do.

My families started arriving in Louisiana in the late 1780's, about 20 years behind the Cajuns, following them into the back bayous of southwestern Louisiana. It didn't take ten years to begin seeing our names marrying theirs. We immediately became part of Louisiana's fusion of culture. I'm pretty sure my people, the Ashworths and Perkins and Clarks and Drakes and Bunches and a dozen others, reflected the Scots-Irish culture of backcountry South Carolina. Cooking was at best primitive. Meat would probably be stewed or fried. Bread would be corn pone. It is doubtful that they even had sourdough. Next to the Cajuns we were primitives. We were also Baptist and they were Catholic, but still there was intermarriage. Abner and William Ashworth, the sons of Keziah Dial and James Ashworth, married Cajun women: Abner to Rosalie Gallier, and William to Deliede Gallier. Thank god for it, too, because the cooking in our family got good, quickly.

How Stupid is Stupid?

I gotta ask this question.

Here's the set-up: there's this guy who feels a connection to bears. He's an amateur, but he's had a modicum of success in marketing his connection. I don't imagine he's a bad guy, just a little obsessed to the point of lacking a certain ability to stay rooted in reality. I mean the potential has always been there. It always is when someone successfully markets an avocation.

Okay, this guy's name is Timothy Treadwell, and according the L.A. Times. I'm going to link to the Times story, but you have to register with them in order to read it, so don't be afraid. Anyway, this dude has a reputation with the Park Service up there as not having a realistic attitude about the bears, and in their opinion, he takes too many chances. Make that took too many chances, cause, he's daid now. He was eat by a bear.

But that's not why I'm writing about stupid. By cruel irony and coincidence, we have an audio recording of his last moments. ("Chomp, chomp, chomp.") I apologize to anyone who's sensibilities I offend with this.

"...the tape begins with sounds of Treadwell screaming that he is being attacked and calling for help to Huguenard [Treadwell's companion whom we are given to believe was his girlfriend], who was apparently still inside a tent.

"It's obvious that the attack was going on before the tape was turned on," said Wilkinson, who then repeated quotes from the tapes.

"Come out here; I'm being killed out here," Treadwell said.

"Play dead!" Huguenard yelled in reply.

"That strategy is commonly used to pacify angry bears in an attack. But Treadwell told Huguenard the strategy wasn't working and she then urged him to "fight back."

"Treadwell, who never carried weapons [emphasis mine], then asked her to get a pan and to hit the bear, police said.

"At that point, the tape stops. Much of it is fuzzy or inaudible . . . .

We are left assuming that she grabbed a frying pan and went after a thousand pound grizzily. More probably? I don't know. Did she try playing dead in the tent only to have the bear rip it apart to get to her? What do you think she did? What would you have done?

But do you understand my question? How stupid is stupid?

What Do Conservatives Want for Us?

In a op-ed piece in the Wall Street Journal today, Andrew Sullivan asks If it's not a crime to be gay, why can't we get married? I don't know, Andrew, they're your friends. Be sure to tell us what the answer is.

Meanwhile, back in Texas, a Republican state senator says to one of the Democrats, "If you're going to act like Mexicans, then you're going to be treated like them." (via Eric Alterman)

Now let's talk about California's recall. So long, Gray, hello Arnold. Eric Alterman sums it up well for me. Quoting Eric, "This is a lesson to Democrats everywhere. Don’t think you can win if you ignore your base. They will ignore you back. . . . If Arnold makes politics fun and interesting again, well then, I’m all for it. And if he screws up the state horribly, well then, tough luck. You people [we] voted for him."

Maybe Robert Rosencrantz can get a break now. The Governor-elect understands that people sometimes deserve a second chance. That seems to be something that Davis never understood.

The Collapse of the Enron Presidency

Josh Marshall uses a business metaphor to examine the Bush Presidency.

The Debate

What a bunch of crap. The moderator should have been given a switch enabling him to turn off microphones. I tuned out after about ten minutes, screaming at the tv for all of them to "shut the fuck up!" Ms. Huffington both impressed me with her dogged determedness and annoyed me with her lack of manners. She didn't get my vote, though. I'm not sure what the purpose of her being there was. I think she was there because she can afford to be. She's promoting Ariana, and she's doing it well.

Big winner: Arnold Schwartzenegger. He didn't look any more stupid than everyone else there. Second place was Ariana Huffington who was offered a part in Terminator IV.

Big loser: well, there were two. Tom McClintock, who looked almost like a senior statesman in the first debate, was invisible next to Arnold. All of his common sense was drowned out by the fireworks between Arianna and Arnold. Second big loser: Ariana Huffington who came across so caustic that she won no converts and made Peter Camajo look like a reasonable candidate.

I would like Peter Camajo if he were running as a Democrat. Unfortunately for him, he is running as a Green, and I am having to take medicene on a daily basis because George W. Bush is President of these United fucking States. If Ralph Nader hadn't been such an ass, we would be living in a different world. As for the Greens, they're a sad joke of would-be hippies who fart, think it's righteous, and call it singing. I am simply not interested. The whole country is being FUCKED right now because of their Bobo self-righteousness. Screw them. Peter Camajo might sound normal were it not for his association with those people.

Okay, today's prediction. The recall fails. What a bunch of clowns we witnessed tonight. Gray Davis looked down right reasonable in comparison. Tomorrow his numbers will go up. I'm still voting no on recall and I'm voting for Garrett Greuner, just in case. If it ain't Davis, give me someone who hasn't been tainted by this shit fest.

Living with Depression

You know you're depressed when your co-workers send you a get well card that says "by a vote of 10 to 5, we wish you a speedy recovery."

My hmo has a book they give you to help you figure out what's wrong with you so you can have the answers to the questions they're going to ask you when you call them to find out what's wrong with you. Anyways, I looked up depression in their book, and after checking five on a list of eight, I shut the book saying to myself, "what the fuck do they know."

Yeah, well maybe I'm not alone in this. How can any liberal not be depressed these days? Our common sense tells us that no one in this country is going to vote for a party made up of depressed people. Ain't going to happen. And liberals know that. So, fuck yeah, I'm depressed.

Still, retiring to a quaint and picturesque monastery where you can just grow roses and meditate isn't really an option, what with reality demanding attention and all. We all have to maintain. It ain't easy. For some of us, it's more difficult that it should be. My depression is beginning to debilitate me. I am less able to keep my opinion to myself than I need to be. I just want to be left alone. The problem with that is that I work in a service position, and if my services aren't utilized, then my labor needs to be refocused, i.e., reassigned.

The problem with that is that I'm a house servant, and the master will put me out in the field picking cotton if I don't straighten up and get along with the missus and the kids. You see, I'm a secretary to fifteen attorneys, most of whom respect me, several of whom like me, a couple to whom I'm very close. There are 12 women and 3 men. The three men are straight. Of the 12 women, 2 are lesbian and 1 is asexual. I have known most of them for over ten years. At different times, I have thought each of them fascinating. This is not one of those times. And three of them despise me for breathing the same air as they.

My boss thinks I have an "edge." After giving it some thought, I agree with her. I've made an appointment to talk to my primary care physician about a referral to a psychologist and a prescription for an anti-depressant. Maybe drugs will even me out. God knows, the political situation for America and the world doesn't look very promising. This could be a long haul.

So there, I've come out and said it. I'm depressed and I'm going to get help. As for politics, I'll try to get zen about it. It's all cyclical. This too shall pass.

Photograph of the Day

Well, two of them actually. This for art's sake (via Magpie), and then This for the sake of art (via Chris Paul).

Happy Birthday, Mama.

Born this day, 13 September 1888, Minnie Ashworth Droddy, the first daughter of Amos Owen Ashworth and Mary Heard. She married Joseph William Droddy about 1905, I can't remember exactly. She had 8 children, 16 grandchildren, and after that I lose count. We buried her in 1986, but she never died. She lives in our hearts, our minds, our souls. She lives.

From Vietnam to Iraq

This is from Col. Mike Turner writing for Newsweek. Impeach Bush now. No, wait, that'll take too long. Let's just vote his ass out next year.

And from the Philadelphia Daily News, Twenty Questions about 9-11 to which I'd like to know the answers.

And to my friends and family that ignore the questions and continue to shill for our draft-dodging President, never mind me, but ask the questions aloud and answer them in your heart. If you acquiesce and refuse to even ask the questions, you become accomplices in this tragedy. Shame.

From Eric Alterman

It is posted here with a loud amen.

"It’s a solemn day. Everyone is a bit quieter today in New York. The sky is as crystal blue as it was two years ago, when al-Qaida blew a hole in my neighborhood and killed almost 3,000 of my neighbors. Since that time our unelected draft-dodging president has:

"1) Failed to capture or kill Osama bin Laden.

"2) Failed to dismantle al-Qaida.

"3) Alienated the only countries that have had any success against al-Qaida.

"4) Ignored the connections between al-Qaida and Pakistan and al-Qaida and Saudi Arabia.

"5) Failed to oust the Taliban from Afghanistan.

"6) Failed to bring peace and security to Afghanistan.

"7) Failed to confront real security threats like vulnerable chemical and nuclear plants.

"8) Stretched our military so thin that we are once again unable to adequately react to emergencies.

"9) Occupied a country that offered no threat to the security of the United States.

"10) Passed the cost of that occupation on to my yet-to-be-conceived children.

"11) Absolved the richest Americans from financial responsibility for this hubris and folly.

"12) Made the poorest Americans once again pay the ultimate price for hubris and folly.

"13) Failed to support New York City and State when they needed the most help.

"14) Supported security efforts in Montana with more per-capita funding than either New York or California.

"15) Turned his back on the police officers and firefighters who saw their brothers and sisters run up the stairs of the Twin Towers as everyone else was running down.

"16) Lied repeatedly to the American people and the world about the state of risk and security."

Hey, Gray!
What did you learn today?

I missed the governor's part of the debate. The synopsis I heard and read sounded like an opera singer warming up: "me me me me me!" He's going to try to stay more in tune with us. What the fuck does that mean? What's he going to do about the fucking budget mess? A mess, I might ad, is his by virtue of the fact that he's the fucking governor. Yeah, Gray, remember that snide remark about the Legislature and the justices implementing your vision? Well, claim the budget as your own, asshole.

Can you tell I don't like Gray Davis? Okay, and as an additional disclaimer, Free Robert Rosencrantz, now!

What an asshole is our illustrious governor. Yet, reluctantly I am voting against the recall because those asshole Republicans cannot be allowed to win this fight. It's not that I want the Democrats to win, I just don't want the Republicans to win. They're dangerous.

Just in case the recall passes, I will vote for someone to complete Davis's term. Swartzenegger is a sad joke, swaggering around the state as a characature of himself, uttering movie lines as if he was Ronald Regan. Bustamante, taking money and opportunity as it presents itself, sees his opportunity for the big time. First thing he does is take $2 million from the casinos, just to send the message that everything will return to normal, only he'll be the one getting the big bucks. How cynical is that?

I liked Ueberroth the best. It's jobs! jobs! jobs! Fewer jobs, fewer taxes. It's going to take someone thinking outside the box. Sorry, Camejo, but you didn't tell me how you were going to convince the two political parties how to implement your revolution. Mrs. Huffington sounded a bit tinny, don't you think? McClintock didn't convince me that he wanted anything to succeed other than no new taxes. If every kid in this state went hungry and was thrown out of school, McClintock would call it natural selection. I find myself fundamentally opposed to that concept. It is in the interest of society to maximize the contribution of its citizenry by enabling them to better themselves, read education, healthcare, affordable housing. The list is longer, but you get my drift.

Vote no on the recall and then for your conscience. Right now, I'm voting for this guy.