Linking the linkable, lest they go unlinked (more politics than usual this week):

:: America almost seems like it’s finally had enough of the non-celebrities being taken seriously in some way (the entire media is like a giant, uncontained Gong Show these days). I find it funny that Heather Mills has finally figured out that the British hate her and plans to follow some sort of obscure famous-for-being-famous career in America. (Adult content advisory. Do not click if you’re under sixteen, easily offended, or Dutch. You have been warned.)

:: The Maverick and Commander is one of the vainest human beings to run for President in my lifetime. One of the vainest that I have ever read about. He is pathologically obsessed with his image as the straight-shooter, the most honest man in Washington, the only one of the whole lot who is his own person and calls his own shots, the only one who speaks his mind and damns the consequences. It’s all a lie and he probably knows it, but that only makes him more desperate to see himself as what he pretends to be. He is Snow White’s step-mother going three or four times a day to her magic mirror to ask the same question and hear the same answer, and fortunately for him the Insider Journalists are happy to act the part of the magic mirror.

:: I don’t wear a flag pin on my lapel. Never have. And while I won’t rule out the possibility of doing so in the future, I probably won’t. And, yes, this is because I hate my country. But not as much as Jeremiah Wright hates it. (That’s the entire post, actually. But I agree with the sentiment: kvetching over Obama’s lack of a lapel pin is just about the stupidest thing I can imagine.)

:: You really have to wonder what is wrong with these people that their rage richters are constantly cranked up to 11. These are the kind of people you read about whose crushed lifeless bodies are found underneath capsized vending machines all because they went DefCon 1 when their Zagnut refused to fall. (Michelle Malkin: complete raving lunatic. Isn’t there some twelve year old kid she can stalk or something?)

:: Barack Obama’s comments about the white working class have thrown the political campaign into a particularly comic spasm of pretense and hypocrisy, but I was planning to let it go, I really was, until George F. Will decided to leap to the defense of the proletariat. Yes, that George F. Will. The fabulously wealthy, bow tie-wearing, pretentious reference-mongering, Anglophilic fop who grew up in a university town as a professor’s son, earned two advanced degrees, has a designated table at a French restaurant in Georgetown, and, had he dwelt for any extended time among the working class, would be lucky to escape without his underwear being yanked up over his ears. Will devoted his column to expressing his displeasure at Obama’s “condescension” toward the working class. (Heh.)

:: It’s kinda ironic ain’t it? Your record company employed their little copy protection schemes in an effort to prevent illegal downloading of your music. Instead, they have encouraged it. You might wanna talk to them about that.

:: It’s been three years. I didn’t know I stung that much.

:: Look out change – Ready or not, here I come! (Best of luck on the interview and the decision-making!)

:: In the first scene in Titanic where we see old Rose at her pottery wheel… And I just like to notice her earrings.

:: I offended a sweetheart once when I said “If I ever get really sick I’m not going to let you come visit me in the hospital.” Now I see that was vanity talking; I hope when the time comes I’ll have the courage – or humility – to Be Here Now for the people I love even when pieces of me are flaking and falling off.

All for this week.

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2 Comments

  1. The faux patriotism of the flag pin
    has bothered me from the get-go, esp. after 9/11.
    And I watch/read George Will a lot. Just six months ago, he was going on about the robust economy with some trickle-down blather. (He didn’t use the phrase, but he might as well have.)

  2. RE: The rage cranked chronically to 11, or, maybe ..
    Ode to a Zagnut-

    A Zagnut Bar is the wrong example to use. They are so darn good (and seemingly rare – you’ll never see ’em in a vending machine) that it is entirely possible that I might go ballistic if a vending machine malfunction deprived me of the wonders of this (vunder) bar.

    Seasonal Note- The Zagnut bar, aside from its fuzzy sumptousness, also has a low M.I.C. (melt-in-car) quotient.

    Other than that, my rage level is generally on cruise-control at about a 1.5 level. I do agree with the premise that the oh-so-easily-offended-and-or-outraged mode does seem to be more of a right-wing characteristic.
    Also, George Will is a pansie. He probably thinks that his baseball talk (and books) qualify him as a “regular guy”. My rage level just spiked to a 2.5.

    Eric P.

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