Ironically, this is my favorite Trini Lopez film of all time

My wife (I forget which one) once asked me:

"Do you believe that your life will flash through your mind at the time of your death?"

I responded:

"I hope not. I never want to sit through the Ice Capades again."

Hat tip to Billy Ockham

Nationwide Alert

Man Says Cocaine Cops Found In His Buttocks Isn’t His

A search of a 25-year-old man following a traffic stop Wednesday morning revealed one bag of marijuana and one bag of cocaine in the driver’s buttocks, according to the Manatee County Sheriff’s Office. The driver said only the marijuana belonged to him. ...

"When the bag (with 27 pieces of rock cocaine weighing 3.5 grams) fell to the ground, Roberts immediately said, according to the report, 'The white stuff is not mine, but the weed is.'

GNN wishes to alert its readers that a strange phenomena is sweeping the nation - Spontaneous Butt Crack Generation(SBCG). Due to the sensative nature of this report, no graphic images will be used.

After speaking to some of the nation's top police officials, GNN can now advise it's readers that they should check their personal possessions, particularly those that are stored in extremely close proximity to or in their body, to ensure that SBCG has not occurred.

That is all.

Bridge Out

If we could number the reasons why Barack Obama is in The White House, we'd have a fair picture of a society's normative mistakes, wishful thinking and reality's revenge. List the reasons for yourself - Celebrity-ism, the dubious "upside" of racialism, affirmative-action's moral bewilderment, the charm of youth and elite education, glamor, the cult of the expert, solutionism, civilization and its discontents; that kind of stuff. All insubstantial, with a life-span limited by the stony path of history, hard times and incredulity. Liberalism itself is a bridge between reality and fantasy; Obama imagines himself, and his fans do too, as a bridge between reality and the inconceivable.

Obama as President is a symptom of geriatric liberalism's softening of the mind, even, to some degree, the Conservative mind. For fifty years, a screwball version of utopianism has leaked into the foundations of American's aspirations, and flooded them with fantasies of abolishing social problems with charismatic leaders, public money, coercion, education, utilitarian economics, technology and freedom unrestrained by ethics. Now the real world and angry Americans are scratching and snarling outside their door and the Progs are plugging their ears.

They think you're just pissed off, and your friendship can be bought. You could argue that this reaction and liberalism's text are products of a decadent form of Enlightenment thinking. If every observable problem has a practical solution, consideration of the unseen is ridiculous, even though you have to pretend that it matters. You formally pursue the possible and ignore the good because "the good" is overly complex and relative. No one knows what it is, anyway. Man is only an animated blob of matter. Materialism advanced by benevolent Big Government is the only means to secure human well being. First of all, this isn't proven, and second, it's a conclusion and not an argument. In this case it simply assumes that anger is material discontent, The multi-purpose Poverty Principle.

I don't think Obama can grasp this problem. Hardly anyone believes him anymore. His election was a last-chance swoon by a disgusted and resentful America. He's not bright enough to see it, nor are his court, his advisors, the leftish Beltway hacks, or the ideological tramps who were seated in Act III of the dreary production staged by the New Left from the 1960's on. They're about to be clobbered by the curtain before bleating some idiot line from the distant past.

Obama's only skill, or handlers' skill, is to rhetorically shape a kind of sticky romanticism that excites young and old liberals, and which briefly encouraged worried moderates that the liberal rot in America could be arrested by a smart, clever, objective problem-solver. What they got was a clueless, incompetent-to-the-bone idealogue ,backed by a compliant clot of nutcases and for-sale pols in The Capitol.

That's old news now. The current regime is bad enough on its own, but only a sideshow to the collapse of the liberal model for mankind. If Obama was really smart, he'd ride the horse in the direction it's already going. But he isn't, and won't. They aren't and won't. I was around to witness the collapse of one social order and its political superstructure. It's happening again, and I couldn't be happier.

There was a time when Time magazine offered content above a fourth grade reading level. Here's an example from 1947

"People have discovered by bitter experience that when man starts out on his own to build a society by his own power and knowledge, he succeeds in building something uncommonly like Hell; and they have seriously begun to ask why." Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one—the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts."

----------------

"The thing to do is to get a man at first to value social justice . . . and then work him on to the stage at which he values Christianity because it may produce social justice. . . . Only today I have found a passage in a Christian writer where he recommends his own version of Christianity on the ground that 'only such a faith can outlast the death of old cultures and the birth of new civilizations.' You see the little rift? 'Believe this, not because it is true, but for some other reason.' That's the game."

The lecturer, a short, thickset man with a ruddy face and a big voice, was coming to the end of his talk. Gathering up his notes and books, he tucked his hornrimmed spectacles into the pocket of his tweed jacket and picked up his mortarboard. Still talking—to the accompaniment of occasional appreciative laughs and squeals from his audience—he leaned over to return the watch he had borrowed from a student in the front row. As he ended his final sentence, he stepped off the platform.

The maneuver gained him a head start on the rush of students down the center aisle. Once in the street, he strode rapidly —his black gown billowing behind his grey flannel trousers—to the nearest pub for a pint of ale.

Clive Staples Lewis was engaged in his full-time and favorite job—the job of being an Oxford don in the Honour School of English Language & Literature, a Fellow and tutor of Magdalen College and the most popular lecturer in the University. To watch him downing his pint at the Eastgate (his favorite pub), or striding, pipe in mouth, across the deer park, a stranger would not be likely to guess that C. S. Lewis is also a best-selling author and one of the most influential spokesmen for Christianity in the English-speaking world.

(more...)

Elenore

When this song came out I was head over heels with my high school sweetie. We broke up during my sophomore year in college. "Elenore," came out during the infatuation period. And it was my song as it captured the way I felt about this girl before I discovered how such a vision of beauty could turn into a needy, whining...

Anyway, it's a carefree, fun song by the Turtles.

"Elenore" was released in a 1968 album, "The Turtles Present the Battle of the Bands." The band's first hit was "It Ain't Me, Babe" in 1965. By 1970 the Turtles were toast.


The death of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopper in a 1959 plane crash had rock and roll musicians of that era obsessed with the notion of dying while flying to an engagement. Even worse, they feared the possibility that they would survive the crash only to starve to death in the mountains or desert while awaiting rescue.

So rockers developed a survival scheme; hire an additional singer who wasn't really necessary for the act; if the band survived the crash, there was a designated food source - a side of singer so to speak - that would keep the roadies going for at least two weeks. They identified this potential life saver by assigning a musical instrument for him/her to play. But it had to be an instrument for which no talent at all is required and therefore very easy to replace the artist/sandwich.


Of course that instrument is the tambourine. If you can smack yourself repeatedly in the face, you are guaranteed success with the tambourine. Fortunately the Turtles were never in a plane crash and it was years before the walking, talking, tambourine-shaking Meal Ready to Eat (MRE) singer even knew what was planned for him. He also realized why the band kept plying him with Twinkies and Moon Pies.

Look at the MRE shaking and dancing behind the lead singer in the Elenore video and tell me that a good hollandaise sauce , some parsley and maybe a baked potato wouldn't do wonders for this person.

Rock on.

Interestingly enough, Buddy Holly and the others only grabbed a charter flight because the heating system failed on the bus they were riding. It was so cold on the bus ( it was early February) that supposedly one of the drummers got frostbite. Don McLean wrote in "American Pie" that this was "the day the music died."

This video aired this week on French TV

Coming Soon To An Economy Near You

DUBLIN, Ireland — After the binge of the "Celtic Tiger" years, Ireland has been jolted awake with the mother of all hangovers, an empty wallet and a horrendous bill.

On Thursday the government shocked a bewildered nation with the disclosure that the final cost of bailing out the Irish banks could rise to 50 billion euros ($69 billion). This is much more than previously admitted, and the impact on the country and the population of nearly 5 million has quickly became apparent.

The bailout will cost every man, woman and child in the republic 10,000 euros. Ireland will have to endure savage cuts in expenditure. There will be hair-shirt budgets for at least four years. And the Emerald Isle, warned the European Union, can now no longer remain a low-tax economy.

Finance Minister Brian Lenihan agreed the figures were “horrendous," but said they "can be managed over a 10-year period.”

The reaction of the media in Dublin and the world’s financial capitals was pretty uniform: Ireland’s Celtic Tiger is dead.

The Celtic Tiger Is Dead. Long Live The Hungover Pussycat.

[...] The calamity in Ireland is the result of reckless lending by its banks during a boom that ended in 2007, and which, as property prices plunge, has become one of the biggest busts in history.

The cost of winding down Anglo Irish bank alone is estimated at 34 billion euros. Its directors lent outrageous sums to developers to buy sites and acquire properties that in many cases have become entirely worthless.

Even more shocking for a country where the banks were seen as solid pillars of the national infrastructure, one of the two biggest financial institutions, Allied Irish Banks, was practically nationalized with an injection of 3 billion euros and the brusque removal of its chairman and managing director on Thursday.

Near us? It is us.

And it will get worse, much worse, if something isn't done to derail the out-of-control socialist freight train, known as the US Congress, coming down the tracks.

DC's Music Festival Rolls Out of "September" ... and Rumbles into October

Greetings, all. Well, one of my favorite months is now in the book ... that would be September, the month when footballs start flying around, pennant races come down to the wire, and the heat around here begins to relent ... albeit, oh so slowly.

In election years, I like it that the rest of the country joins us in caring and paying attention in September, too. This particular year, I especially have a bounce in my step, for, as Kid said a while back, we have have the prospect of "carnage." Time to start anew and clean house ... for cleanliness sake.

September reminds us that change is on the way. Therefore, we have hope, if you will.

So, tonight, take a a listen to one of the great dance and pop hits of all time ... from the fellas from Chicago with the cool threads:

Now, early October is upon us. And on the first weekend in October, there is carnage of the football kind strewn about the Cotton Bowl annually. OU is a dastardly opponent, as they thieve players (and pay them) from the Great State to remain competitive. Still, we smite them regularly.

The Okies are quite the musicians, too, as you will find this little diddy Oklahoma's equivalent to EWF's "September." Let's just call it, "October:"

Need I say more? Hook 'em.

Striking Range

Sheriff Fwank conducting a cavity search for weapons

The Republicans have a new gunslinger roaming the streets of Massachusetts' Fourth Congressional District. His name is Sean Bielat and Sheriff Bawdy Fwank, who is rumored to have used his gun on many a poor unfortunate, is getting nervous.

Bielat is 35 years old, a Marine who spent four years on active duty and is now a major in the Reserve. He's a graduate of Georgetown University with a master's from Harvard and an MBA from Wharton. He's devoted a good portion of his professional life to manufacturing the high-tech robots that defuse improvised explosive devices in Iraq and Afghanistan. In other words, he's a serious man.

In the spring and summer of 2009, Bielat watched in dismay as Barack Obama and Democrats in Congress pursued one big-government initiative after another. He began to think about running but didn't make a final decision until Jan. 19, when a certain Republican won election to the Senate from Massachusetts -- and did it by winning in Frank's district. "When Scott Brown won the 4th Congressional District, it became clear that not only could a Republican win here," says Bielat, "but there was a case to be made nationally to donors and supporters that this is winnable."

Sheriff Fwank stands an excellent chance of defeating this upstart in November. Fwank is heavily armed at all times with democratic largess and handily defeats any upstart with 65 to 75 per cent of the vote, if he can find a challenger that is. His draw is as deadly as his lisp.

But a recent poll shows Bielat within striking range of Fwank, trailing by only nine or ten points. This is much safer than having Fwank within striking range of you. Particularly if you are bent over tying your shoes.

In the crucial area of independent voters, the poll shows Bielat ahead of Fwank, 51% to 34%.

Initially I wasn't going to go here, but just consider Fwank's peccadilloes:

1. Here's a guy who lacks the powers of observation and common sense to know when his live-in boy toy is using his apartment as a queer whore house; and
2. Fights tooth and nail to resist any oversight over the mortgage practices of government owned and operated fiduciary organizations, ie, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, that subsequently fail, costing the tax payers billions; and
3. Latches onto another butt buddy who is indirectly supervised by Fwank since he is Chairman of the House Banking Committee. I am referring of course to the juicy morsel being frisked at the top of this post; Herb Moses, who was Fannie Mae's Assistant Director for Product Initiatives during the time of his intimate relationship with Fwank.

Fwank is a man who is sadly influenced by his carnal appetites. Whether or not you are comfortable with the practice of homosexuality, anyone who allows themselves to succumb to these desires in the performance of their official duties is in desperate need to have to have those duties removed. Period.

And what does this say for the people who reside in the 4th Congressional District? Nothing good, unfortunately. But perhaps with a real choice at the ballot box they'll rise to the occasion.

Remember November. When you go to vote, take someone with you.

Sister Golden Hair Surprise

Sometimes the awesome responsibilities of being a cub report for GNN just wears me down and I need to step back to reflect on what got me here.

Back to a time when things were easier to understand.
When the consequences did not seem so dire.
When the odor of disinfectant foot powder was not my constant companion.

Back to 1975 and the band America.

Well I tried to make it Sunday, but I got so damn depressed
That I set my sights on Monday and I got myself undressed
I ain't ready for the altar but I do agree there's times
When a woman sure can be a friend of mine

Well, I keep on thinkin' 'bout you, Sister Golden Hair surprise
And I just can't live without you; can't you see it in my eyes?
I've been one poor correspondent, and I've been too, too hard to find
But it doesn't mean you ain't been on my mind

The bottom Golden Haired Beauty is the legendary Rita Hayworth in her salad days.
And this concludes my presentation of Sister Golden Hair.
Now for the surprise...

Nickie Goomba and his infamous dance audition

at the DMV offices in Scarsdale, New Jersey!

Have more sex!

We've All Had Enough

MICHELLE: I'VE HAD ENOUGH!

"I've had ENOUGH!" After two years in the White House fishbowl, fed up first lady Michelle Obama sobbed those emotional words to her husband during a tense confrontation.

In a blockbuster ENQUIRER exclusive, well-placed Washington, D.C., insiders have revealed behind-the-scenes details of President Barack Obama's heated face-to- face with his 46-year-old wife - a spat that erupted over headline-making comments attributed to her in a revealing new book.

According to the book, Michelle told France's first lady Carla Bruni Sarkozy, 41, that she absolutely detests her role as America's first lady, blasting it as "hell," and admitting: "I can't stand it!"

During the Obama's quarrel, "Michelle collapsed in tears and even threatened to divorce Barack if he seeks a second term as president," a source in the nation's capital told The ENQUIRER.

"At one point, Michelle was heard yelling, 'I hate you for dragging me through all this…I've had enough!'"

Another D.C. insider confirmed details of the fight, telling The ENQUIRER that the screaming match occurred after the first family returned to Washington following their vacation in Martha's Vineyard with daughters Malia and Sasha.

The next day Barack was NOT wearing his wedding ring and despite official denials, there's "trouble ahead", insiders told The Enquirer.

Apparently the quarter-plus million dollar Wookie Spanish Get-Away wasn't enough.

Maybe it's just the negative exposure, but is there anything about this woman's attitude that tells us - "It's all about me." Quite frankly, we've all had enough. We have never witnessed such self-centered, childish whining since, since ... Hillary. Perhaps Michelle will now invent a Vast PMS Conspiracy to cover her relentless carping and bitching.

Inside sources tell us that the President is fed up with his wife's pertinacious attitude; in his own words, he has "... had it up to here!"

Other reliable, confidential sources tell us that he is only remaining with her solely for the sake of their two children and some really top notch medicinal quality cocaine that he is finally scoring.

A GNN EXCLUSIVE!

ONLY HERE!

NO WHERE ELSE!

Rumors were first circulating in the White House and now throughout the entire Capital that President Obama has another love interest! And it is a woman from Chicago!

At great personal danger to myself (Rhod feel asleep at the wheel again) and at no small personal cost (Nickie spent our entire travel allowance on Odor Eaters™ and several dozen cases of Chips Ahoy!) I managed to drive to Washington, DC, bribe a hotel food service employee and take this close proximity surveillance shot of President Obama dancing with the New Love Of His Life in the Ritz-Carlton Hotel ballroom.

We always knew it, didn't we?

Tragedy strikes Democrat family

The cost of ONE 'green job', you wonder? In UK it's 4.5 million dollars per year.

EUReferendum does a nice job of presenting the latest chapter of the ongoing farce that is Green Power.

Booker, thank goodness, will get slightly more coverage with his column than I did with my post covering the same territory.

Certainly, it cannot be said often enough – especially as it is being ignored by the BBC and almost all of the media – that "the world's largest wind farm" opened off the Kent coast last week, is going to cost us £1.2 billion in subsidies over the 20-year working life of this installation. The corrected headline, by the way, reads "billions" and not "millions".

At a time, supposedly, of economic stringency, it is offensive beyond measure that this government – like its predecessor – is encouraging such huge amounts of money to be top-sliced from our electricity bills, "by far the most important and shocking aspect of this vast project" writes Booker.

But what is equally offensive is the silence of the media on this aspect. Those outlets which have reported on the installation have been completely silent on the fact that, for the subsidy we are being forced to pay, we could have a 1GW nuclear power station, which could yield a staggering 13 times more electricity, with much greater reliability.

The obscenity does not stop there, though. The Swedish owners, Vattenfall, may have commissioned 100 turbines but they are only the first stage of a project eventually designed to comprise 341 of them. When complete, this will generate subsidies of £1 billion every five years.

And even then, that is not the end of it. A final claim for the Thanet wind farm (which Mr Huhne boasts is "only the beginning") is that it will create "green jobs" – although the developers say that only 21 of these will be permanent.

Now, when you work it out, each of these are costing, in "green subsidies" alone, £3 million per job per year. That is £57 million for each job over the next 20 years. The Government gaily prattles about how it wants to create "400,000 green jobs", which on this basis would eventually cost us £22.8 trillion, or 17 times the entire annual output of the UK economy.

(More...)