Happy New Year, Goomba Nation ... There are still American heroes among us.

Sgt. Guinta uses some colorful language, so you are warned. This clip is worth your viewing. Be inspired, and resolve to live worthy of the title "American" in 2011.

The Bleat

Nickie Goomba sez... "If you have never visited The Bleat or the Institute of Good Cheer, you have not fully tasted of the sweet drippy peach that is the Internet. Enjoy!"

JANUS SMILES

Happy New Year! I’d say “belatedly,” but I did put up a post on Friday night. No, I didn’t got out. Didn’t want to. The imperative to stand in a crowded room with people in silly hats and issue razzing sounds though plastic horns was never great when I was young; now it seems a trial, an ordeal you have to endure to get to the final objective of every long day, which is deep sleep in a warm soft bed.

I like staying up late; I like witty nights around the table with cocktails and bon mots and all that, but on New Year’s you have to thread the gauntlets of yobbos and boozers, hope no one T-bones your car when you drive through an intersection, and other such complications. Shredding my vocal cords in a spare bar or well-reviewed restaurant known for its exquisitely presented portions of ginger-infused shaved tofu is fine, but not on Amateur Night. Last year I was in such a hip place, and met an old chum from the hip 80s; he was part of the journalism circle, and was known for being one of the sponsors of an annual elegant formal party where we all pretended we were sophisticates who’d earned all the right to carry off a tux. Now he’s the mayor. I wished him well. He made a bid for the governorship, and didn’t make it. I’m still annoyed at some aspects of his tenure, but he’s one of those politicians I do believe loves this city as much as I do, and on that fact we could clasp hands and think remember when, and huzzah for what’s to come.

This year? Daughter went to a sleepover; I stayed up late with my wife talking in the kitchen about life and the year ahead. Since it was Friday I got a pizza, and went to Davanni’s. Hadn’t been there for a long time, since child insisted that Domino’s was the new ruling paradigm, but she’s sick of it too. Davanni’s moved from the old strip mall to a rehabbed restaurant that used to be a Big Boy in the suburb’s post-war heyday. Its last incarnation was a Thai restaurant, and you may recall the tale of the manager who insisted that the dark-meat chicken curry was totally authentic because Thai people used dark meat, not white? Uh huh. I wrote about that here. I heard from people from, oh, Thailand. Never went there again, and shot the place hot daggers every time I drove past. It closed, and after a year standing vacant it reopened as Davanni’s.

So I walk in, and the manager opens her arms and says LOOK WHO’S BACK.

This is what it means to live in a place for a while.

Really, it’s been a year. She wants to know what I think of the store, and I tell her it’s fantastic. It used to be a Big Boy, I say with the sage tone of the urban archeologist.
“I thought it was Mr. Steak,” says the cashier. I point out the window across the street.
“The Foot Clinic that went out of business was a Mr. Steak,” I said. “I don’t know what the child-care place next door was, but it was a fast-food place.”
“And the used car dealer down the street was an Arby’s,” said the manager. I grinned. Uh huh. If they’d had a plastic tray on the counter I would have picked it up and smacked it into my forehead repeatedly. All these years. All these years I have wondered what the HELL IT WAS and OF COURSE IT WAS ARBY’S.

For Crom’s sake. I should know this.

Not that’s important, but in a way, it is. Styles of commercial architecture in the 50s and 60s were intentionally distinctive, and if you want to be able to read the vernacular, you need to know the nouns. (Neon was the verbs.)

I picked up the pizza and went home and we had a fine feast, even though I live with philistines who will not let me order extra sauce because, and I quote, it’s too saucy. Gah.
Daughter went off to sleepover; parents stayed home. At midnight some people in the neighborhood set off fireworks, as is their wont – and we’re talking big belly-feel concussive shells, too. I still remember our first year here – we moved into Jasperwood in 2001 – how they set off the shells to salute the new year. What a miserable fall that was, what a grim winter. What a strained, rictus-grin Christmas. The bombs bursting in air at 12:00:01 were an analogue to the Times Square celebration I’d watched an hour before. Usually I don’t care if everyone’s freezing in Times Square counting it down, but that year it felt like defiance to show up, and solidarity to watch, and hope nothing happened.

We forget how much we thought something might happen.

Sunday: the tree came down. Sadness. All the holiday decorations were gathered and packed and stored and stowed – an annual duty that feels as if you’re not just closing off the emotions and memories of the holiday, but undoing them. I always want to tell the tales of the ornaments when I put them up; no such honors attend their annual internment. Away, mice playing with the 50s lunchcounter Coke dispenser. Silence, now, Retro Mickey bringing a snow-bedecked tree to Pluto’s doghouse. It all feels like exchanging personal items after a breakup: sorry it didn’t work out, here’s your hairbrush and CDs. I severed the android tree into its three segments, wrapped them in shrouds and stored them in the cave of the basement. As I noted on Twitter, the chair no one sat in was moved from its holiday spot – where no one sat in it – back to its usual place, where no one will sit in it. The chair is a tremendous chair. Sometimes I sit there and read, but it’s once a year, twice at best. It seems to be a ceremonial chair, waiting for something.

This is the point where you buckle down and plunge right into the duties of January, the aching expanse, the long frosty slog. In normal times that’s exactly what I’d be doing, but these are not normal times.

See you tomorrow . . . elsewhere. That’s right: it’s the first-ever on-the-road travel blog.

Muslims Celebrate The New Year With Old Violence

Once again the well-mannered adherents of the Religion of Peace roll up their sleeves and demonstrate that peace is a relative term that does not necessarily mean the absence of terror and bloodshed.

VATICAN CITY -- Pope Benedict XVI on Saturday led condemnation of a New Year's Day bomb attack in a Coptic church in Egypt that claimed 21 lives, urging world leaders to defend Christians against abuse.

The head of the Roman Catholic Church was the first religious leader to react to the bombing which targeted worshippers as they emerged from a midnight mass in Alexandria.

In his homily at New Year's Day mass, the pope spoke of mounting tensions, "especially discrimination, abuse and religious intolerance which are today striking Christians in particular."

"I once again launch a pressing appeal not to give in to discouragement and resignation," he said, calling for the "concrete and constant engagement of leaders of nations" to protect Christians.

The Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, Fuad Twal, called on Christians to show courage in the face of the attack.

And once again the Islamic news washing machine that services the Religion of Peace cycles from "Spin" to "Frappe" in its coverage of this murderous attack.

The Islamist Palestinian movement Hamas also condemned the attack, saying it was "certain it was the work of elements acting against the interests of Egypt and looking to promote confrontation between Muslims and Christians".

A top Shiite Muslim leader in Lebanon, Sheikh Abdel Amir Kabalan, denounced the attack as a "terrorist act aimed at sowing chaos and fear in Egypt".

"This terrorist act bears the fingerprints of Zionists who keep on targeting religious sights and are working to ... sow discord between Muslims and Christians," Kabalan said in a statement.

Aside from Islamic apologists, what does the Prophet Mohammad through the Koran have to say about this?

Allah is an enemy to unbelievers. - Sura 2:98

On unbelievers is the curse of Allah. - Sura 2:161

Slay them wherever ye find them and drive them out of the places whence they drove you out, for persecution is worse than slaughter. - Sura 2:191

Fight against them until idolatry is no more and Allah's religion reigns supreme.- Sura 2:193

Apparently the perpetrators of this outrage were good, obedient Muslims who were following the tenets of Islam. Who will you believe?

A warning for 2011

Alexander Solzhenitsyn had more than a few words of warning about socialism. Here are a few from a 1970's interview with the BBC.

"The decline of contemporary thought has been hastened by the misty phantom of socialism. Socialism has created the illusion of quenching people’s thirst for justice: Socialism has lulled their conscience into thinking that the steamroller which is about to flatten them is a blessing in disguise, a salvation. And socialism, more than anything else, has caused public hypocrisy to thrive; it has enabled Europe to ignore the annihilation of 66 million people on its very borders.

There is not even a single precise definition of socialism that is generally recognized: all we have is a sort of hazy shimmering concept of something good, something noble, so that two socialists talking to each other about socialism might just as well be talking about completely different things. And, of course, any new-style African dictator can call himself a socialist without fear of contradiction.

But socialism defies logic. You see, it is an emotional impulse, a kind of worldly religion, and nobody has the slightest need to study or even to read the teachings of its early prophets. Their books are judged by hearsay; their conclusions are accepted ready-made. Socialism is defended with a passionate lack of reason; it is never analyzed; it’s proof against all criticism. Socialism, especially Marxist socialism, uses the neat device of declaring all serious criticism “outside the framework of possible discussion”; and one is required to accept 95 percent of socialist doctrine as a “basis for discussion”—all that is left to argue about is the remaining 5 percent.

There is another myth here too, namely that socialism represents a sort of ultra-modern structure, an alternative to dying capitalism. And yet it existed ages and ages before any sort of capitalism.

My friend Academician Igor Shafarevich has shown in his extensive study of socialism that socialist systems, which are being used today to lure us to some halcyon future, made up the greatest portion of the previous history of mankind in the ancient East, in China, and were repeated later in the bloody experiments of the Reformation. As for socialist doctrines, he has shown that they emerged far later but have still been with us for over two thousand years; and that they originated not in an eruption of progressive thought as people think nowadays but as a reaction—Plato’s reaction against Athenian democracy, the Gnostics’ reaction against Christianity—against the dynamic world of individualism and as a return to the impersonal, stagnant system of antiquity. And if we follow the explosive sequence of socialist doctrines and socialist utopias preached in Europe—by Thomas More, Campanella, Winstanley, Morelli, Deschamps, Babeuf, Fourier, Marx, and dozens of others—we cannot help but shudder as they openly proclaim certain features of that terrible form of society. It is about time we called upon right-minded socialists calmly and without prejudice to read, say, a dozen of the major works of the major prophets of European socialism and to ask themselves: Is this really that social ideal for which they would be prepared to sacrifice the lives of countless others and even to sacrifice their own?"

In his lecture of acceptance of the Nobel prize for Literature in 1970, Solzhenitsyn quoted a Russian proverb: "One word of truth shall outweigh the whole world."

Terrorist Threat

Droning Smirkwad, Janet Napolitano

Airports Consider Ditching TSA

Some of the nation's biggest airports are responding to recent public outrage over security screening by weighing whether they should hire private firms such as Covenant to replace the Transportation Security Administration. Sixteen airports, including San Francisco and Kansas City International Airport, have made the switch since 2002. One Orlando airport has approved the change but needs to select a contractor, and several others are seriously considering it.

Which is why they have to hobble the private sector everywhere they can...

The Little Dumber Girl

Katy Couric Dances...

And Katy Couric Speaks...

Maybe we need a Muslim version of ‘The Cosby Show.’ . . . I know it sounds crazy, but ‘The Cosby Show’ did so much to change attitudes about African-Americans in this country and I think sometimes people are afraid of things they don’t understand.”

GNN encourages you to submit plot and story lines. The dance above was, well, you know...preceded by this stellar moment in TV history...

We Need A Raise

The news business is a cut throat profession with wire-thin profit margins and mile-wide egos. Here at the Goomba News Network, corporate accountants recently announced a series of profit enhancing measures designed to make 2011 our best year ever.

Rhod will digitize and sell on-line access to his prodigious collection of pornographic thesauri.

DC must remove his .45-70 reloading gear from the old linotype room so the GNN cafeteria can finally install a sushi bar.

Sig94 will no longer use the costly Employee Mental Health Assistance Program in order to stop referring to himself in the third person. Really, he promised.

And Nickie will even provide the clippers so he can lease his back for GNN advertising.

Malibu Beach, here we come!

We'll see you again in the New Year

This evening, in an annual ritual celebrated since 1961, DC, Rhod, Sig94, and I climbed the stairs to the roof of the Goomba News Network Building to illuminate the traditional "Good Riddance, Old Year" ball of lights.

This impressive fixture will brighten the intersection of State Street and 4th Avenue in downtown Sandusky until the stroke of midnight on New Years Eve. At that moment, Rhod will spit off the roof, yell "Acta est fabula, plaudite!" to the crowd, and turn off the lights.

Ah, tradition! We can't get enough of the stuff.

WE NEED A REST.

WE'LL BE BACK IN THE NEW YEAR.

Happy New Year

UK Science Guys Test Brains

Political Views Are "Hard Wired" Into Your Brain

GNN - In a ground-breaking new study by scientists at world-renowned University College, London, the conservative brain was found to be imperfect compared to the liberal/Labor brain, upholding similar conclusions from UCLA. The complicated analytical device below, shown in a photograph smuggled out from its manufacturer in Scotland - the amiable host country for British manufacturing and advanced technology - is thought to be the source for University College's data. The study figure attached to the device is an unidentified brilliant American.



Dr. Alistair Bollocks-Sweetbreads,OBE, professor, phrenologist and tosser (shown below in his faculty portrait) asserts that his conclusions are indisputable; his sample included several students and two members of Parliament. Bollocks-Sweetbreads deduced from his study that conservative brains are ruled by anxiety and emotion, while liberal brains generate courage and optimism. Bollocks-Sweetbreads' name has been submitted for a Nobel Prize by the UC's Jeremy Bentham Viewing Club.

Alistair Bollocks-Sweetbreads, PhD, OBE, CPA, DOPE, MO RON IDI OT

Bloomberg On The Case

GNN - Today, New York City's Progressive Mayor, Michael Bloomberg, put aside his proposed food flavor restrictions and turned his attention to complaints about snow removal efforts in the city's boroughs. Bloomberg hinted that the complaints were made by sissies, and he cited a metric never before used for this city service, claiming that "96 percent" of New York's streets had been cleared of snow.

The Mayor went on to note that new state-of-the-art hiring kiosks were deployed city-wide to boost the number of workers in NYC's Department of Public Works. Bloomberg, facing tough re-election prospects because the public-to-private employee ratio has dipped severely from 112:1 to 111:1, said that he would focus his attention on this shortfall "like a laser beam".

Close-up on Janeane Garafalo

GNN brings you the closest look at Janeane you've ever seen!

Global warming is killing old folks. Quick - Build more windmills!

(UK) About half a million pensioners spent Christmas in bed, in order to keep warm. It is more complex than just fuel poverty, but it is certainly the case that every new windmill and every new middle-class solar panel user, milking the system for the feed-in-tariff, is putting heating out of the reach of still more pensioners.

What people forget, though, is that the greenie objective, quite deliberately, is to increase the cost of energy, firstly to discourage its use and secondly to make inefficient alternatives more attractive. By this means, greenie policies put pensioners in bed ... and hasten them to their coffins.

Hat Tip to EUReferendum

Overheard at GNN Christmas Party

Well, not really, but something like it happens every year. The talk about Mad Magazine free-associated me to Stan Freberg, the first adult comic I understood, aside from Shelley Berman. Freberg contibuted to Mad a long time ago.

Most of his routines are dated, now, or too long for a quick tramp through the blogs. But this is good, short, and those of a certain age will remember it, although with different imaginings.


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Green Eggs & Patriotism

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind."

- Dr. Seuss (1904 - 1991)

Some Christmas Gift...

Miss Grundy Is Gonna Die

(Maybe)

Brace yourself. The owners and publishers of the Archie Andrews franchise might kill off the stern former pickle factory worker, and spinsterish teacher, Geraldine Grundy. I don't know where the comic strip stands now, because the last time I saw an Archie comic strip, Smokey Stover and Snuffy Smif were still alive. The first time I saw Archie was probably when the Teenie-Weenies were making their beds in walnut shells. Both were a long time ago. In the intervening years, I read the Sunday comics mainly to see what Walt Kelly was up to with Pogo.

When I was in college, Archie was still wearing a sleeveless Argyl sweater and saddle Oxfords. His car was still the topless Model-T-like wreck; Veronica still looked like Veronica Lake, Reggie had patent-leather hair, Jughead was a dunce - it wasn't politically incorrect to notice it - and Moose was an adorable, dimwit bully balanced on the knife-edge dividing rage from harmless stupor. Its plots and characterizations were obsolete even, if not especially, then.

I'd been told that Archie was an update to the Harold Teen comic character from the 1930's. I don't know. The best comic satire of Archie was in an early 1950's Mad Magazine spoof where Archie (Starchie) is sent to prison for some offense , until "the cross-hatches on the sides of his head turn gray". It was drawn by one or more of Mad's wonderful illustrators, Wallace Wood, Jack Davis or John Severin.

Prison was probably a better fate for Archie than to be made "relevant" by the probable changes in his cartoon universe. Those changes will almost certainly be toward the busybody lefty youth-agitprop kind. If they're willing to kill Geraldine with cancer, and are aiming at the suggestible and generally confused minds of adolescents and young teens, you can imagine what's around the corner.