Have you heard about the new Dancing With The Stars lineup? Puhleeeeze!!!! Nancy Grace? Chaz Bono? George Clooney’s ex, what's-her-name-something Cannabis? Oy!
I’m not a regular DWTS viewer, and only checked-in last season because Kirstie Alley was showing everyone that she CAN dance and lose weight at the same time! Oh, and for a woman of “a certain age” she could mash it up with the young-ins!
But the very idea of even imagining Nancy Grace twirling around to a hot salsa number produces GERD-like symptoms. What in the world was she $thinking$ when asked to set aside her newsy $credibility$ to shake-shake-shake that hooty-booty in front of $millions$ who are fans of her $serious$ broadcasting work? I’m $stumped$.
And Chaz? Well, I was a bit harsh on him in the Return To Gender post several months ago, so perhaps I could go easy on his participation in an exercise-inducing spectacle: however, the vision of Chaz dipping a chickie in a suave move makes my eyes hurt as it could end up being more of an embarrassment than the freak show the producers anticipate. Or maybe the exec’s hope for a Cher intervention. Unfortunately for them, Cher prefers to remain out of sight these days with regard to her spawn’s lifestyle, so that’s off the table as quickly as Chaz may be voted off the show.
Will I tune in to watch this mess? Probably not, for the lineup is so absurd and clearly formed to bring more viewers to the tube on the basis of morbid curiosity than anything to do with actual dancing that I refuse to play along (as if my lack of participation will make a difference). I’ll take exploitation only up to a point before hitting the delete button in my brain, and that is all the DWTS new lineup is: pure exploitation – on both sides of the camera.
Oh yeah, and then there is David Arquette, the guy with the permanent sads over the breakup of his marriage to Courtney Cox and an Howard Stern interviewee regular who loves to tell the world how sorry he is for whatever it was that he did or didn’t do to turn off Courtney (one of the turn-offs could be that he talks to Howard Stern). Now he has really slipped into banana-peel territory when he signed on to DWTS to show the world another reason why Courtney left his sorry arse in the dirt. Does he need the money? Doesn’t he get 50% of Courtney’s “Friends” royalties? Whatzzup, David? Do you really need more self-humiliation?
Oh well. I’m sure there will be excellent ratings for the show and endless comments and articles all over the interwebs about who is dancing well and how surprising it is for fill-in-the-blank to samba like there’s no tomorrow, so to speak/as it were/blah blah. And one can be certain that all of the entertainment-focused programs will hype every episode to gain access to the “stars” for a little extra interview so that they will have an insider view of what each performer thinks of their dancing partner.
After all, when it gets down to it, it’s all about what’s the entertainment tonight, right?
Are fertility drugs being passed around Hollywood like cocaine at an uber-hip back room party at the latest club? It would seem that way with what seems to be a new baby-on-the-way announcement from one celeb after another every week of late. By now, unless you’ve been on a news blackout since Sunday night, you know that Beyoncé is full of baby-making magic after showing off her baby bump at the VMA’s, thus, showing-up the show. If it hadn’t been for Lady Gag-Gag’s gender bender character, no one would be talking about anything else from that event.
And then there is Hillary Duff in pregger’s land. And Jennifer Garner (for the 3rd time with husband Ben Affleck). And January Jones (who?). Then, of course, Tori Spelling who is reportedly due in the fall.
And recently, after what felt like the longest pregnancy EVAH, Pink finally popped out a little one. And so did Natalie Portman, Mariah Carey, Kate Hudson, Christina Applegate, Penelope Cruz, Victoria “Posh” Beckham, Alicia Silverstone, Jewel, Alanis Morissette, Jane Krakowski, Alicia Keys, Jessica Alba, Tina Fey….
Hurricane Irene, now downgraded to a “Tropical Storm,” has a plethora of reporters sloshing around in ankle deep waters in New York and New Jersey that they had to locate for the long shots so that everyone knows all of the press conferences NY Mayor Bloomberg and NJ Governor Chris Christie gave in advance were worth it.
It’s wise to prepare for the worst with any nature-made event, but the build-up to what could happen in the Northeast superseded the real damage being done in North Carolina and Virginia. In watching the news, one would think the only area of true concern was in NYC, NJ and the Boston area. Forget Philadelphia, Maryland, Delaware.
Waters are rough in Maryland at the moment, and one person has died there, bringing the Hurricane Irene death total to 18 (as of this post time); the majority from fallen trees. But never mind, some water has risen and splashed over a bit of land in Manhattan’s Battery Park, so by all means send in another reporter to stand in high winds and trudge through a bit of water to justify the prep hysteria of the past two days. Even if the waters are relatively calm by the latest broadcast, the intrepid reporters still have to wear their rain soaked jackets and hats as a reminder to the viewers of what once was. Rain. Lots of it.
Also, let’s send NBC’s Al Roker out to a beach somewhere so we can watch his rain jacket whip around in what is left of the wind, and a slightly rough patch of waves moving around behind him. Let’s also make sure that while he and other on-the-scene reporters stand in rainless environments this morning warning people to remain inside, we see people walking in the background with their dogs, cameras, surfboards and no umbrellas.
Sure, trees have fallen. A few streets and boardwalks have been flooded. Power is out throughout most of the eastern seaboard. It is a strong storm. But it isn’t the massive wrath of God that had been hyped. And, to be fair, the many precautions by local and federal entities may have saved lives.
What I’m getting at is how hard the media is trying to prove that damage has been done in areas where the damage in minimal. Where are the news crews in the places where roof’s have blown off into space; where evacuations were, indeed, lifesavers. I really don’t care about a few feet of water in parking lots in Jersey, for example. What’s going to happen there? A child may try to go swimming?
I’m not writing about Hurricane Irene today. That subject was yesterday’s post and by now I’m bored. This storm is being built-up so much by government officials, the president, cable TV and even mainstream media’s news outlets that if Irene doesn’t wipe out half of the eastern seaboard by Sunday night most of us will want our money back.
In the interim, here we go again with another episode of Menz Of Power and sex!
What did we expect to find when the Libyan Rebel Forces invaded Muammar Gaddafi’s private world through taking control of his compound? As he is one of those Menz Of Power, it was no surprise to learn that a stash of porn and Playboy Magazines were among his not-so-guilty treasures. I don’t think anyone ever questioned his lust for life, as it were. He’s not presented an image of living a life of abstinence that I am aware, though as more pornographic DVD’s in his possession are uncovered, the stranger the focus becomes. Reportedly there are a few boys-on-boys films. Even that doesn’t surprise my jaded soul, as Muammar just looks too cute by half in that Tranny way that tweaks a tender spot in my cold hard heart to help the poor dear cross the street unharmed.
But our quirky old lady Gaddafi has manly things too, and he has a creepy little pitter pat tapping along his oh so very romantic heart like a boy with a crush on an unattainable girl from the US of A. The ever-lovely, oh-so-awesome, Leezza, Leezza, Leezza, former Secretary of State, Condi-Leezie Rice, in all her professional stiff-posture glory headshots neatly organized in Gaddafi's very own personal photo album. The testament to his Lurve-Crush.
Ah, isn’t that kind of sweet? One can but imagine the private response Miss Condoleezza Rice expressed on hearing how far Gaddafi‘s fancy had gone. Almost into Stalker territory, went he of the many gowns and natty turbans. Imagine the international implications! Inspiration runs wild. Someone could make a tacky little film, My Dictator, My Secretary. Oh, how perfect! An historically-based porn film it could be! I bet Gaddafi would love to see that one someday!
And so would other Menz Of Power, I’m sure!
But, the ending may not be quite what Gaddafi had dreamed. Rather than ride out into the sunset wielding a victory sword and Leezza strapped to his side, his exit from the scene could be less poetic and more like a mess.
No one seems to know exactly where the guy is hiding – still. Or so “they” say. It may not matter, as per an audio recording, Muammar Gaddafi will not give up and will die a martyr before he turns his precious Libya over to anyone else’s power. Such a declaration is typical saber rattling from one as proud, dictatorial and out of touch with the times as this latest tyrant obviously is. However, he is not the kind of person to slip away gently.
He loves his Libya just like he adores his Condi-Leezza. The problem is that they don’t feel the same about him.
Is it worth it to go on vacation anymore? More than ever it appears to be less of a “vacation” than a flight or drive into a possible Twilight Zone episode.
For example, in the middle of the August getaway for most of Americans who can afford to take time away from jobs and spend money they may actually have, the impending havoc of Hurricane Irene is sending most of the North Carolina seaboard-based residents and tourists into an evacuation caravan. Just how I’d want to spend my vacation! Packed in a car on a road with thousands of other scurrying souls sharing the roadways. What fun! Especially if one has bored and restless children bouncing around in the back seats.
And then there are the vacationing crowds further north in the New York and Boston areas. And that means the Cape and all of the little islands such as Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard nearby. Everyone in the eastern part of the U.S. knows that the time to be at the beaches is now. So, of course, a Hurricane has to ruin the fun and what was once a delightful plan to enjoy the little cottage on the lake or beach becomes a question of survival – and do we go home before Irene hits the fan or stick it out just in case the hype from 24/7 coverage of the impending landfall of the wet and wild Hurricane turns out to be overblown?
From the live coverage I’m watching of the ocean by Cape Hatteras in N.C. right now, it’s beginning to look a lot like storm-time…although the ultimate smack-down is not expected until tomorrow morning. No one is 100% sure, though, despite all of the storm mapping. Hurricanes have minds of their own and could zig-zag up the coast in the most erratic of ways.
That’s the problem about weather. It’s unpredictable. One makes vacation plans to places where they assume all will be well until a volcano erupts, an earthquake hiccups, a hurricane screams by, lifting rooftops and leaving residents stranded in the middle of a new lake that was once their neighborhood.
But then, the other side of the vacation debate is that if one lives in an area at the center of whatever the current chaos may be, and had gone away on vacation, one wouldn’t be in the mess and would, presumably, be swimming somewhere in Mexico or Belize, or traipsing the trails of Sherwood Forrest. But then again, wouldn’t part of the vacation be filled with anxiety over whether or not one would have a home to go back to?
Nope. There’s no winning with Mother Nature, vacations or not. It just makes it worse for those who planned well in advance for a break from stress and the thrill of discovering a new culture or continuing a yearly ritual of going off to one’s “summer home.”
Between the horrific lines at airport check-ins; train and plane delays due to bad weather or an earthquake, I no longer count myself as part of the vacation crowd. Had I been in London recently I would have found myself in the midst of a riot. Had I gone to New York to soak in a little culture, I might have ended-up soaked in general by the rain.
Who knows? It’s always a risk to leave one’s comfort zone, and I certainly wouldn’t suggest that everyone just cease to take vacations…. I just think that as time goes on the stress level involved with travel and the growing uncertainty of weather patterns makes what was once a time of pleasure a time of pressure.
All those on the east coast, hang on to your cats! Your dogs will always find their own way home.
Wouldn’t you know it? In the middle of a presidential vacation and an already been-on-vacation-Congress for weeks, Libya is on the brink of declaring victory over Muammar Gaddafi’s 42 year rule. And Washington DC, next door to Virginia, the epicenter of yesterday’s surprising 5.8 earthquake, was having a shake-out of its own, along with most of the eastern seaboard and a few inland states such as Ohio and Michigan.
Could things here in the West get any newsier? Yes, in fact, it can – and does. Hurricane Irene is on the huffy edge of seeking to destroy another section of the southern seaboard when she twirls her furious, windy way northward from Florida and possibly into Georgia and North Carolina on up to Boston and beyond if she feels particularly zesty.
So, as happens in August for most presidents on an attempt at a vacation, world developments combined with domestic havoc of one sort or another waves from behind the vacation screen door, making it known that one has to get off the ranch or golf course and make a few televised statements in casual-dressy attire to make sure America knows their leader isn’t slacking on his job even while taking a much-needed mental and physical break from the centre of insanity known as The Beltway Culture.
I’m sure the recalcitrant GOPer’s are feeling vindicated over their loudly expressed displeasure with Barack Obama and family to take the traditional August holiday through Labor Day with such desperate conditions surrounding the U.S. and world economy, as if that stopped George W and Ronald Reagan who by this point in their presidency’s had taken double the amount of vacation days for even longer periods than either Bill Clinton or Barack Obama combined have made to date at this point in their time in office.
But never mind that. Things are different now. A Democrat is in office. A black one, on top of it all! He is the most corrupt president EVAH and although there is almost nothing to prove what his corruption actually is, you better believe he is evil and hates America. That’s why he wants to save programs that help the poor. He wants to tax people who don’t pay taxes and whose small percentage in the scheme of things would quickly wipe out the national debt. Wow, he really must hate America so let’s make sure not to like anything he does and twist each success into another point of contention – or abject silence, such as what greeted Obama by most of the Republican/Tea Party base when he had the guts to drop Navy Seals into bin Laden’s compound – and unrelentingly finding a way to assist the demise of another dictator in the Middle East as is happening in Libya with “no American boots on the ground.”
Right. No vacation for you, Mr. President because people are out of work and those who do work have little, if any, vacation time. And anyway, a burned-out president is better for a nation than a healthy, relaxed human being who is always on the job even when taking a shower, right?
Get ready to duck, Mr. Prez, Hurricane Irene might take a swing at Martha’s Vineyard. Just as Maxine Water’s smacked you down a few days ago on black issues ignored by your administration.
Look out for the force of women on a mission. They’ll take you to more than the woodshed every time.
Libya's stubborn Gaddafi is on the run right now as the country scurries toward emancipation from the old man's rule - for once and for all, darn it! At least it certainly looks like it now that no one can find him. The elusive little devil may be hiding under one of his curly wigs and women's cloaks - he does have that oddly Tranny vibe about him, doesn't he? Like an elderly woman who would wear sensible black laced shoes in combo with pearls and blotted lipstick.
One place he could have escaped to was Montecito, California, last Saturday night to mingle with the other heavily made-up overdressed witnesses to the launch of Kim Kardashian's next divorce. In shimmering white or deeply dark as night black, all of the guests were too busy looking in mirrors to notice anyone other than the Towering Giant Kris Humphries and his exotic petite bride. Gaddafi in drag would have fit right in. Especially with a little mask. No one would have noticed the lack of an actual facial expression. To them, it would be just one more victim of botox.
While the hunt is on for the apparently scared-sheetless dictator possibly lurking in a hole somewhere, no one had to try very hard to locate the Queen Ho's who showed-up for the non-royal Kar-Kash-In nuptials. In fact, there was no way anyone could miss the Stepsister's of Skank on their Big Day as super guests. Both provided the great unwashed masses with pose after pose of their tasteful gowns and the apparently unwashed mess of one of them.
Yep. That's Lindsay Lohan and her mother, Dina. Uh, Dina's on the right in case the age difference didn't register in their faces. And you see who's the real partier in the next shot as the party left the estate on the way back to LA. That's right. Check the back seat. Somebody's having a great time. The other one in the front looks as if she could use a pillow to rest her wittle swirling head.
At least someone had the sense to order a driver for the merry group. You know what happens when the Linds gets all happy and sleepy at the same time and forgets to call a cab.
Images via APP Getty, JustJared/AKM/Splash INFPhoto.com
On an overcast morning in Southern California I find myself feeling all cozy and happy in the currently quiet canyon. No barking dogs, no buzz saws, no nanny-with-stroller brigades, just the neighbors walking their dogs, and somewhere off in the distance, the sound of a few children making children noises as they play outside.
I want to stretch and take a pleasant walk before the sun decides to make an appearance later today in honor of the non-royal wedding an hour up the coast in Montecito of the ultimate fameho's of Hollywood - the Kar-Kash-Ins - big day. Yep. It's Kim's day to shine in all of her faux glory as she weds the giant of her dreams, NBA star Kris Humphries, at a rather huge mansion nestled in the heady hills outside of Santa Barbara.
I really don't care about these people at all. I never watch their TV program Keeping Up With The Kardashian's because I don't want to keep up with them.
But it's all over the news today that the wedding is in full green light mode minus approx 50 last-minute disinvited guests due to "space problems." In other words, some kind of zoning/fire code was slapped in the Kash-In's frozen botoxed faces and all of a sudden Mario Lopez of Extra became more important to the guest list than stepfather of the bride, Bruce Jenner's, friends and relatives who suddenly found out just how unimportant they really are to a Reality Star's priorities on her big pay day when their names were slashed from the list.
Yep. It will be be a fine pay day. The wedding that tabloids and entertainment programs are gushing about non-stop will reap a tidy little sum of $1.5 million dollars from People Magazine for exclusive rights to the wedding pictures, and another large sum from E! to cover the wedding for a TV special in October. Considering that the focus on most of the reporting has been the cost of the wedding (a reported $10 million) the crafty Kar-Kash-In's could break even or make a profit on the event after all is paid and done.
And just who are these people? The Kardashian's? Just the epitome of Beverly Hills excess and all that is a cliche' about being famous for simply being famous through an insipid reality program because the family knows how to play the fameho game to the Hilt-on.
Who knew that shopping and botoxing and flinging gold leaf earrings around would create such excitement on the TV's and provide absolutely no redeeming value at all to the populace other than yet another empty diversion. I guess the television industry knew how it would work considering the trend of an endless stream of reality shows with narcissistic women punching each other out, or raising a truckload of children while divorcing one's husband, or leading A Simple Life when one comes from a family of privilege and working in a faraway diner in Arizona for an afternoon is considered "simple" and worthy of watching.
What I find so sad about the hoopla surrounding this wedding is how it is touted as rivaling the truly royal wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton. Okay. So born to the throne was William, and brought into the lair is Kate. Could it be that a comparison can be made between America's version of royalty (self-appointed) and that of the English (by blood anointed)?
I don't know. Call me a snob, but the day a Kar-Kash-In is considered to be "royalty" is the day I become Cinderella.
It's time for a brief weekly round-up of the somewhat lighter side of news and views.
As most of you have heard and/or seen, Anderson Cooper had a little giggle and more a few days ago on CNN while delivering a pun-filled report on the latest celebrity public faux pas. It's worth another watch if you have already seen the clip. If not, it's kinda cute, especially if you like Cooper. Giggle Fest
The "I'm Not A Witch" Christine O'Donnell apparently thinks Piers Morgan is creepy. Huffy
Michele Bachmann (R- MN) easily proved the point of many that she is brilliant! Brains & Hooty
Mr. Texas Swagger, aka Texas Governor Rick Perry, may cause some people to reassess George Bush's intellect. Creation?
While the media focuses on Texas Governor Rick Perry’s chances to win the GOP nomination for president of the USA, I have more pressing things to deal with today. Such as sorting out my real online self from a new bogus online self.
First, my morning began in what is now becoming a routine with my cat who has begun clawing at the side of my bed in the early wee hours to gain my attention (and to wake me up) as she knows I’ll be muttering “No! No! Don’t do that!” before either getting out of bed to remove her little paws from the upholstery, or sliding deeper under the duvet to go back to sleep. I chose to stay in bed and firmly murmur the “No” routine today, but my quietude didn’t last long.
Within minutes, I heard a knock on my bedroom door and was told by my housemate that a mutual acquaintance had called to find out if I was okay as she had received an urgent email from me (my normal email name but with a different .com) which said I was trapped in Ghana and needed money to be sent ASAP so that I could get out of the country. What? The mutual friend was worried. Me, in Ghana? Hahahahaha! The chances of that being true are as ridiculous as finding me on a plane. I don’t like those things anymore. But learning that someone is using my email name? Not so hahahaha.
I wonder how many bogus emails have gone out over the year under my name from both my real account and now this new one. It’s odd how these nameless scam artists manage to latch onto one’s email information and begin sending strange alerts and notices under one’s moniker. It’s happened to several of my friends who are on Facebook, and to others like me with regular emails. At one point a year ago I was receiving emails from myself selling Viagra and other questionable products. I contacted the provider with a complaint and after that it happened no more.
Should I now delve into this latest online prankity-prank-punk’d gem of being trapped in Ghana or let it go, as anyone who really knows me would realize the email was not legit. But I wonder why this particular person was targeted as I don’t believe I have ever sent a personal email to her in the brief time I’ve known her other than private messages on Facebook. She isn’t in my online address book.
Hmmm. The plot sickens. Is this yet another Facebook-oriented breach? And how could that be if I hide my Friends list from everyone except Friends?
Enter paranoid-sounding music. Ah, but do I know who my FB Friends really are? Just because they were nice in high school or college doesn’t mean they are all clean as snow on a hard to reach mountain top. (Yes, I wrote that. And I’m keeping it.)
But then again, with all of the recent changes Facebook has made to their format and the constant little “privacy” surprises we must rush to plug lest our faces, names and other personal information end up in a third party’s database, Facebook may be just another entryway for those of ill will to gain access, and friend or foe, we may never know how these breaches grow.
Nevertheless, if you have received an email from the Other Me requesting aid to become un-trapped in Ghana, don’t be alarmed. I’ll only request funds to help me get out of California.
And that’s the truth.
Update: The people behind the aforementioned scam were arrested on Wednesday, 8/17, at a Western Union outlet while awaiting what they thought would be another rip-off payment from a concerned loved one of the lifted names they acquire through nefarious means on the Interwebs to bilk hapless decent peoples of their money. Bravo, my friend and friends-of-friends for a fantastic outcome!
There are no words. Well, there could be many captains to this picture. Most NSFW. Gag reflex?
Tell me, what was Michele Bachmann thinking when she not only went for the sausage (or corn dog) but allowed herself to be photographed in such an obviously awkward position? Is she truly that oblivious to the less-than-clean church-like thoughts that have gone through almost everyone's minds after looking at this picture all over the Interwebs?
She certainly wasn't trying for a sexy-chick come-hither-I'm-Hot image from this lapse in judgment. After all, the expression on her face isn't one I would deem to be open for the taste, so to speak. Her expression may mimic previous run-ins with large sausages (or ugly corn dogs) she was forced to taste at neighbor's BBQ's to ensure each one was done enough for her cuddly hubby, considering how she's such a sweet submissive type who'll do anything for her bubbly other half.
So on we go with the sexualization of Michele Bachmann through no fault of the media's this time, yet clearly the fault of the "handlers" to place her in a ludicrous position anyone with half a political brain would know to not encourage.
Unless a subliminal message was to be sent to the Menz of Iowa without Mrs. Bachmann's awareness, which really, wouldn't require much doing, such a dastardly thought would never cross her sanitized mind.
It must have worked because Michele Bachmann did end up winning the Iowa Ames Straw Poll, you know. Them Iowan Menz musta been impressed with the little lady's subliminal porn charm...or something.
And now it comes down to this in politics. Sex. Sex. Sex. A woman enters the arena and she's immediately pegged into "I'd hit that" or "I'll ignore this one" categories. The prettier and crazier you are, the more money people want to give you. Now we can be sure the Bachmann machine will be signing-up new backers from the sex education sector of the populace. How clever.
But no matter how much Michele Bachmann's reputation may receive a few wagging fingers for stupidity in promoting downright pornographic images, showbiz still has the upper diamond-gloved hand as time goes on with how young women are now depicting themselves during concert and music video performances.
Yes, I've written a bit about the shift toward what I believe to be OTT sexually suggestive performances by woman more than men in the music biz these days. I began to wonder if I had become a prude - gasp - by feeling either disgusted or amazed at how little most of the women are wearing on stage of late, as well as grinding many simulated sexual acts all the time.
The feminist part of me has always believed that if men can do something, so can women; Equal Opportunity Exploitation, if you will. I believed from a very young age that if women had to take their clothes off for a part, then so should the man.
And, it's been happening - finally - after many years of slow progress from James Dean's tight white T-shirt to a continually bare chested Matthew McConaughey.
But women are still pimping out more than ever, and if I were a mother right now I don't know what I would do if a few of these singers were role models to my kids. I certainly wouldn't keep them from listening to the music. I'd not turn them into pariah's among their friends. But I don't think I'd appreciate my daughter going out dressed like Rihanna on a Barbados holiday. And I would have difficulty with any kid of mine bending over in a suggestive way in public or private.
Tho' I love sexually-charged performances and entertainers who can bring sizzle to a show. I just don't want a music concert to be three hours of pumping, grinding, pole dancing, simulated sex with band members, and a form of a strip-tease. If that's what I want, I'll go to a Topless Club with a group of rowdy friends. Otherwise, I want to see a decent show and hear good music.
Yee Haw! Another Texan wants to be President of the United States of America. But this time, the Texan who just threw his 10 Gallon Hat into the GOP ring has the potential to make George W look like a simple Texan-wannabe more than he already is.
Texas Governor Rick Perry (R) made good on his promise to follow-through on his announcement today that he wants to save the country with God's help. As a friend wrote on FB today (in so many words), God help US if he does win the presidency.
What makes Perry such a formidable contender? For one, he has the ability to rake in a considerable amount of campaign money, and he has the hardened win-at-any-cost energy blazing through his well-oiled saddles. He looks presidential, too. You know, that "look" most in America now demand from their primary leader? The height, physical stature that exudes some kind of magical leadership respect, if for nothing else than wearing dark, serious and well-defined-in-cut suits coupled with patriotic coloured ties that subliminally beam the message of an "I mean business, take me seriously" image and all that swagger jazz.
Thus, into the fray he rides. Look out, all ye unfaithful!
Between now and the RNC National Convention in early 2012, the clusterflock of the current darlings of Tea Party drinkers and Old School GOPer's should provide an entertaining, although insane, mixture of a Tent Revival and a corporate boardroom-based Power Point presentation on how to overthrow the Obama administration.
Get the popcorn ready.
To provide a bit of fun from the political scene, today will be another music video marathon...with another visual treat of art from the street.
What is going on at MSNBC this week? Are various hosts making-up for the August doldrums?
All week, on most of the news websites I frequent, headlines have been shouting the latest MSNBC rants by obviously frustrated anchors such as Dylan Ratigan (The Dylan Ratigan Show), and Joe Scarborough (of Morning Joe), as well as Rachel Maddow's conspiracy theory about Texas Governor Rick Perry's religious associations now that he has decided to join the mess that is the GOP wannabe-prez-whiny-pageants.
Perry has leaked his intention to join the fray and will announce his bid over the weekend in an "official" declaration after saying numerous times over the year that he won't run. In fact, if anyone remembers, Mr. Perry wanted Texas to secede from the US of A not too long ago. Guess he's changed his mind about that and will now reach for more than a Texas Star in the mini-Galaxy of his brain.
If my snark seems biased, I am, indeed, biased. I find the likes of radical political positions combined with religious zealots to be a danger to any country that deems to be a democracy. Hey, even without a democracy I believe the world has seen what can happen when religion runs the political agenda of any nation/country. It ends up as bad news for anyone who doesn't agree with the fundamentals of the religion and often ends in death to thousands, incarceration of hundreds, wild-eyed hate and fear of those who live a different life and pray to a different God.
Scary is a small word to describe the direction of the GOP in America, as my chant of how the separation of church and state is growing into an ugly gray puddle of muck!
Where did these rigid, morally uptight-upright creatures off 1950's thinking such as Michele Bachmann, Rick Perry, Tim Pawlenty, Jim DeMint (major Tea Party obstructionist in Congress) come from? What happened? Surely none of them dropped too much, if any, LSD in the 60's and early 70's to feel the spirit of the Lord cometh upon them and tap them on their shoulders to send them out to be fruitful and mutate into future zombies of national discordance.
But, let's go back to MSNBC's week of anchor meltdowns for a true view of how "progressive" America really thinks about the faces of deranged change to provide perspective. You may surprised in one or two cases.
And then, to top it off, Mr. Urbane Lawrence O'Donnell went into a wandering almost rant that I'm still attempting to decipher over Stephen Colbert's tongue-in-cheek mischief by collecting PAC monies and what he is doing with it.
As I watched O'Donnell's The Last Word program last evening, I waited for O'Donnell to break out with a grin to say he was just kidding. It didn't happen. What planet is he living on these days? You decide. Uh, Are You Serious?
Good Gawd! Where is everyone these days? In the last week I have checked into Facebook a few times only to see a mere handful of my friends online. Most of what rolls through my News Feed are promotions for events and subjects I am interested in. But, where are the clever daily remarks from some of my wittiest friends that once made signing-on to the social network akin to a little party? Has everyone gone on vacation at the same time?
It isn’t a massive Google + exodus, either. Very little repartee of interest is happening over there as well. Are we simply busy living our real life lives for a change after the initial charm of FB’ing has begun to lose its punch?
Could it be that people are growing tired of being asked to donate money to every single charity or project of another FB friend? I know that lately most of what I’m seeing are requests for financial aid – many to extremely worthwhile causes, I’ll admit, but I never signed-on to Facebook to be hit up for money. If I choose to help one charity or cause over another, it inevitably irks or hurts the feelings of those to whom I didn’t offer my financial support.
And, to be frank, I’m doing fine, but am on a budget and my finances must go to my own charity = me, or else I will be no more.
Asking people to “Like” your project/status or “Share” is one thing; but this recent trend of money-pumping is beginning to turn me off to what was once a pleasant daily experience of checking into my virtual Hood to share a few comments and learn whazzup with friends I don’t see on a regular basis or have lost real life contact beyond Internet-based communications through either geographical distance or a shift in social/career priorities over the years.
Now I have to sidestep requests to repost someone’s status to prove I either read them or agree with their cause. If not that, then please send money to this charity or that. Hey, when I beg for money it’s in private, ya know? Or in a closed business setting. But that's me. And when I post any of my blogs on my Wall, it is for sharing only. Not for the number of hits to this site. I am not making money on this blog. Often my posts are in lieu of writing a Status Report.
Am I being too harsh against those with worthy causes and caring ideals? Am I to hang my head in shame for bringing this up in a blog post? I don’t think so. This is, as I often remind, a Flog Blog, which means if something’s not feeling right from my perspective I’ll take the old Flogging Whip to it, if for nothing else than to bring attention to issues that I know many people are grousing about, but only in private, yet wish someone like me would bring to light.
So, I’ve done it. Written my frustration. I have to censor myself enough as it is to not hurt the feelings of people I care for in my life by not flogging issues and attitudes that are their reason for living. Now I risk either irking or hurting those who have been kind to me yet are the very ones requesting their FB friends to contribute to various causes. But, if they are truly people who care about free speech, then I would hope they will understand my frustration with almost nothing on my FB News Feed of late that hasn’t been a pitch of one sort or another.
For now, I gotta admit I’m all pitched-out. It’s been as if I opened a closet door and nothing but financial requests have tumbled down upon my head, burying me in unwanted paper.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not cheap or known to be a Scrooge. Just the opposite, which is why I’m now on a budget. Hah!
With the U.S. media and politicians focused so deeply on the 2012 election, following poll after poll to gage each party’s worthiness and chances of winning overshadowing the reality of where the USA stands on the all important “Jobs, Jobs, Jobs” mantra, is it at all a question in anyone’s mind why nothing gets done in the current political climate? This question, observation, is certainly not new and is a focus of many a blogger and Op-Ed columnist's jabs.
I’m taking it on because it is slightly daunting to me to turn on one of my favorite news TV channels to find the primary focus of a square table interview to be on President Obama’s poll numbers and those of the currently unsettled GOP mix of presidential hopefuls. Okay. I get it. It’s important to watch what’s happening when upcoming GOP events loom to set the stage for someone to win the pageant and go on to challenge the Democrat currently in the Oval Office.
However, when constant campaigning is the raison d'etre for most of Washington DC, what kind of leadership do we end up with? No leadership, really. Nothing more than a group of Type A megalomaniacs beholden to monied backers dashing around to cover their arses rather than doing a bloody thing other than obstruction and caving-in to pressures when forced to be decisive.
And what is at the bottom of it all? Money. It may seem that there is a grand divide on social issues; on who deems what as a moral crusade against a debauched America. No. It is all about money – who owns who and what their agenda may be – that rules the game. Rules our lives. Ruins our freedom and the right to have fair representation by those we vote into positions to make important decisions on how the country is run.
It’s not working anymore. Period. Simple. It’s over. The great sleeping populace is awake. Ripped from Ivory Mental Towers and self-absorption or unwillingness to see the other side of life’s unpredictable coin, the recent debt ceiling fight and subsequent credit downgrade, has found once-closed ears listening, and what they’re learning is not boosting confidence.
The above knowledge doesn’t indicate that everyone will dash to the streets with signs and in-person protest zeal, but it does signify a shift in perception, which adds to the growing, currently under-the-radar attraction to creating groups of dissidence comprised of people from both political parties preparing to make their presence known.
London is burning and churning in rebellion. So what else is new? All year we have watched one country or city after another break out into angry fisticuffs against their leaders in one form or another. It is the year of uprising and general government upheaval – something of which I have been writing from the beginning of this unsettling cycle. Now it is time for another group of disenfranchised citizens of an unbalanced economy and hierarchy to kick the fiery wicks of protests into the world’s increasingly volatile stage.
If you haven’t followed the events in London that have transpired over a three-day period, you may query what in the world is going on over there? Aren’t the English all happy and jolly with their new future King and Queen in place to bump Prince Charles out of the running? Isn’t Pippa Middleton enough of a diversion for the masses? Aren’t the natives satisfied to learn that NOTW was as corrupt as they suspected and that Rupert Murdoch did, indeed, hang out with former PM Gordon Brown and has deep ties to current PM David Cameron? Shouldn’t the recent News Corp revelations vindicate the cynical populace enough to bring a comfy sigh of relief as they watch Scotland Yard commander’s receive a long-deserved take-down from their less-than-genteel and ethical perches?
Nope. None of the above is enough to quell the bristling sense of injustice many Londoner’s (and others in the area) have been feeling. And all that was needed to set off a riot was an initial protest against what many deemed to be an unfair shooting of a man by a police officer.
Shortly after the once-peaceful protest began, a few very pissed-off citizens began barking at the entire London Machine; then, before one could finish a pint at the local pub, out came swarms of irate peoples of all colours and religions to turn the protest into a major behest which has now claimed at least one life, harmed a group of police officers, and has placed 450 under arrest (as of posting time), all adding to Mr. Cameron’s current leadership tests. Poor baby has to cut his vacation short and return post haste back to 10 Downing Street.
When the flurry eventually dies down in Londontown, who will be the winners? Will anything be changed by setting fires and thumping on the police? Is it simply anarchy for anarchy’s sake or is there a silent strategy at stake?
I ask and suggest the above because there is rarely a time in any historic civilian uprising without people behind the scurries with an agenda of one sort or another – be it benign or malevolent. So, who or what is behind the current riots?
According to news reports, it’s the Blackberry’s fault. Not Twitter, for a change, but the use of the popular-in-Britain Blackberry messaging service to send info to those interested to go out and smack a few heads. But who sent the first message to do so? A concerned citizen or a mere bad seed? And does it matter? Only if it’s politically motivated will it matter. If it’s just the acts of a restless rowdy group bored to death of the same-old-same-old non-economic growth and a stone in their shoes making walking a tedious chore, then it looks like blatant chaos and nothing more.
Until further information peeks out from the pages of someone’s clever investigative blog, I remain neutral on all of it, as I am not part of the society in the forefront of today’s news headlines. I do know that I will always do what I can to see both sides of an issue before weighing-in on an opinion. In this case, the best I can do is to acknowledge, once more, that bubbling, gurgling, resentments against governments all over the world have been festering for many a year in this, the year of “Throw out the Bums” and “We’re not going to take it anymore!”
America, methinks it’s time for you to stock up on supplies in your homes, have a few dollars on hand, and the will to live through what may be the next big riot – this time in your land. Who knows? It could happen here. Why not? We are ripe for revolution whether we want to deal with it or not.
For further information regarding who is actually running the USA, check this out: Boo Hiss
You know it’s a truly dry news cycle when the primary story in the U.S. is focused on the S&P’s U.S. credit downgrade and how all of the other financial markets are “scrambling” to correct this mess. Of course, the credit downgrade isn’t something to ignore. It is simply another classic example of the domino effect of what can happen when government is run by children and most of the adults have left the room.
But if you aren’t interested in following the nervous breakdowns on Wall Street and other financial markets today, it gets even worse when all of the entertainment sites are focused on last night’s Teen Choice Awards and what some of the teener’s and non-tweener’s were and weren’t wearing. Zzzzzz.
Other than this funny little ditty, the Teen Choice Awards were meh: Clones
I yawn again, something I’ve been doing quite often these days when on the hunt to find something of interest to write without delving too deeply into charts and conspiracy theories about the current state of affairs – both in politics and the fluffy focus on celebrity romances. People are still obsessing on about whether or not Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were doing “it” while he was married to Jennifer Aniston. Hello?
One slightly interesting piece of info that has come out over the hours joins politics, Hollywood, and conspiracies together: the revelation that Jackie O believed Lyndon Johnson was behind the assassination of JFK. Really? I thought it was the CIA, the Mafia, and their various hit squads.
(ABC is currently denying the above-linked story.)
Slightly interesting, eh? I wonder why Caroline Kennedy doesn’t want the TV movie to run? What’s in it that many don’t already know? Or could it be that Stepford Wife of the Decade, Katie Holmes playing Jackie O, oozed too much Scientology-robot-stares at the camera? You know her husband Tommy-Boy Cruise, had to have made sure she stayed the course during filming.
Yes, I’m vague today. Forgive me but my brain is in vacation mode. I simply want to find something to write about that will make me laugh or feel like throwing a plate across the room. So far I’ve had very little luck.
I’m temporarily Tea Partied-out following that horrid little show they put on in Washington of late. The damage has been done to the U.S. economy through their hissy-fits, and for now, while Congress is in recess, I’d like to have some breathing room because it’s inevitable that the sheet will be flying all over the Potomac when everyone returns in September.
So, I wait. And read. And play with the design of the blog, forcing myself not to make radical changes lest half the readership fall into a shocked “Oh no! You didn’t do that, did you? How could you?” mode and leave in droves or in a huff, as one poster did on a message board I once ran following a format and colour change.
Where are the scandals of only a few months ago when every other day seemed to bring another Menz of Power out of the cheating closet? What happened to Sarah-I-Betcha-Pales-In-Comparison to the new good ole brain freeze that is Michele Bachmann? Methinks Sarah is hiding-out in one of the last theatres where her non-acclaimed documentary, The Undefeated, was last shown. It’s very safe and quiet there.
If you too are ready for a break from all of the nasty news floating around about wars and money, then you may find another high profile rumbling to your liking.
According to a story I read an hour ago that is no longer available anywhere online from where I may link, the infamous Mrs. Wallis Simpson who supposedly ruined the monarchy when she stole the heart of then reluctant-to-be-King Edward (who eventually abdicated his throne for the love of her), apparently still loved her first husband and only remained with Edward because he threatened suicide if she would ever leave him.
Can you believe it? The woman all of England hated for so many years was actually trapped into marriage by King Edward who many deemed to be “mad”? What a sorry life that was! Apparently Mrs. Simpson vamped just a bit too much for the gentle heart of a royal Peter Pan to ignore without wanting more.
And while we’re focusing on the other shore, you know it has to be a really, really bad news and also extremely slow news day when entire articles have been written online to wish Princess Beatrice (the one with the reindeer’s colon hat from The Royal Wedding) “Happy Birthday!”
If all it requires to become an international celebrity is to place a foolish mess on top of one’s head at a high profile event, then I think I’ll spend the afternoon riffling through my “To Give Away” bag before I drop it off at the Salvation Army. Surely my future wealth resides somewhere within.