Monday, September 29, 2008

wow

Scary news today. Very scary. And now the Dow is down 537.7 points at 3:00.

bad ad

I put it to any of my fellow media-obsessives out there to tell me where the worst mistakes happened in this spot. Was it on the part of Shawn Johnson's agent? Was it on the part of the Creative Director who came up with this stupid spot? Was it on the part of the copywriter who wrote such a hilariously bad line as "It makes my taco pop"? Or was it on the part of the brilliant brand manager for Ortega who clearly saw an obvious connection between Olympic gymnasts and taco fixins?



(Picked up from AdFreak.)

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Notes from the weekend - State Fair edition


Paul
Originally uploaded by spcejunk
Banana and I wrapped up the weekend with a few hours at the Virginia State Fair. For folks like your trusty blogger, this is a much-needed grounding experience. Full account to follow soon...

Notes from the weekend - Trader Joe's edition

Anyone who has been near me in the past four years knows how excited I am to have a Trader Joe's in Richmond. Many of us still think they should have landed in the city-proper, rather than putting roots in Short Pump*. Still, I have to admit that it's just nice having TJ's (and Whole Foods) in this city finally.

Frankly, it's shocking that it took so long for these stores to arrive. Richmond has a fairly cosmopolitan population and a diverse business community. There is a fair amount of old money running around and a strong, young creative class. But the city also has one of the strongest urban inferiority complexes I've seen. Considering all the places I've lived, this is not an insignificant observation. That complex jives well with a certain provinciality—civic structures and the corporate and governmental bodies are driven by a good-old-boy mentality that is further driven by a sense that only home-grown solutions work.

For this reason, I think, our local grocery chain was able to fend off inroads by companies that would hurt its business. Why, then, am I ecstatic about patronizing our recently-arrived chains? Because I do not feel that the local grocers really cater to me in the same way that TJ's or Whole Foods does.

That said... We finally have a Trader Joe's! In short order—shorter order than a similar trip to Kroger or Ukrops might take—I had satisfied most of what we needed, and thrown in a few extras besides. We have a nicely stocked pantry for barely more than I might have spent at either of the other stores, and I can feed Banana snacks and meals that are generally filled with wholesome ingredients. Is the stuff entirely organic? No, but that's not the point. The point is that I do my best to keep high fructose corn syrup and other artificial sweeteners and flavors out of her diet, and I do my best to make sure that the food we eat is processed as little as possible. And between TJ's (and Whole Foods) I can make that happen without having to read every label and worry about the sourcing of every product.

I do, however, need to make sure that I keep us within our budget. It would be so easy to slip...





*For those who do not live here, Short Pump used to be farmland, about eleven miles west of the city limits. The arrival of a "lifestyle" mall and many big box stores transformed it about five years ago, and it has been a hub of suburban retail sprawl ever since. Traffic is hell, and fallow soil has been replaced by a soul-less commercial crossroads.

Notes from the weekend - South of the James Market edition

The balance of the market vendors this week fell disproportionately to craft and prepared-food vendors. I hope this trend does not continue. The market is a gem and should aim to be the premiere source of locally grown and produced food. The bowls and blouses need to be secondary.

Notes from the weekend - debate edition

If you have been hiding under a rock for the past week, you may not know that there was a minor altercation between our presidential candidates on Friday night. You may also have missed the news that one of the candidates tried to scuttle the whole damn thing under the guise of this little economic crisis we've had going on. Well, the little gambit didn't work; the maverick gambler played his bluff and lost. He arrived in Oxford, Mississippi, with a slight snark following in the media coverage.

{On a side note, the location of the debate is, itself, remarkable. Ole Miss was a campus that required National Guard intervention for integration to happen.}

So, yes, the debate happened. The Impolitic household took in another parent and child for the evening, and the first graders tore up Banana's room whilst the parents drank wine and beer and tried to follow the meanderings between Senators Obama and McCain. Loosely put, here's what I saw:
  • Both candidates played to their supporters. In general, Obama was more forward-looking and more specific in his answers, but really both did their best to stick to talking points even when Jim Lehrer tried to pull them into more engaging territory.

  • McCain looked tired and seemed the less-prepared of the two. His efforts to land attacks against Obama turned ad hominem and snide. In fact, when he tried to begin with the standard, tired attack of the Democratic candidate as a tax-and-spender, Obama deftly argued back with specifics about his proposals and effectively took the wind out of the attack.

  • Obama seemed better prepared, and generally navigated the proceedings with a far more presidential demeanor. When asked to engage McCain directly he obliged, even when it was clear that McCain would not even return eye contact.

  • McCain spouted some fascinating lines. His reference to SDI (Reagan's Star Wars program) was bizarre and seemed anachronistic given current issues. We had to rewind his phrase "not the beginning of the end, but the end of the beginning" twice to parse what he meant. His reference to a pen for vetoes recalled Bob Dole's awful debate performances, particularly when he paused and said, "Well, this pen is kind of old." It truly was a head-scratcher.

  • Obama held his own on the foreign policy sections of the debate. Particularly good was the moment when he pointed out that McCain kept referring to the surge—as though the war had begun in 2007, not 2003.

  • Though some friends have criticized the format, I appreciated Lehrer's effort to push the debate into a more discursive model and to resist hewing firmly to a script.



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UPDATE: This Old Pen

Friday, September 26, 2008

Friday Fun - Steve Earle edition

Given the season we're in now and the madcap antics of certain leaders, this man's songwriting comes to mind a great deal.

I don't necessarily love the video antics added to this, but the performance is clean and beautiful.



This one reminds me that as much as I like Earle on his own, I also think he was stronger with the Dukes. They were a tight band, and really remarkable live.



And finally, the song he opened with on the night I first saw him in March 2001. It was a hell of a show, the end of this tour, and Earle and the Dukes tore up the setlist and played for more than three hours. A friend lost track at 34 songs. That night is also, in large part, responsible for Banana's existence since I met Banana mère at that show. What a long, crazy, transcendental trip it's been...

proud parent moments

Occasionally, your kid does something small that just makes you proud to be her parent. Yesterday, Banana popped out two pieces of artwork that fit the bill.

First, there's this piece from school. Her control of the lines and balance of colors is really remarkable. The lettering is also pretty impressive.



Later, at dinner at Sticky Rice, she colored in Piko with an equal flare. But it's her illustration of Reilly, complete with frame and narrative that really blew me away.


(Translation for those who aren't used to reading a six-year old's kidspelling: "My dog is a he. Name is Reilly. I really like him. He's very friendly to me.")

Friday Fun - another politics edition

I have to give props to Phil for this one...

Thursday, September 25, 2008

biden

Thirty-six years ago, Joe Biden lost his wife and young daughter in a tragic car accident. His two young sons were severely injured as well. It was the year he was set to begin his first term in the Senate. He nearly recused himself from the seat, but continued nonetheless. For the next few years, then, he juggled life as a single father and a Senator. Despite a remarriage, new children, and the success of his sons, the man still carries with him the weight of the loss. The man has my respect and sympathies.


Watch CBS Videos Online

mornings, pt. 2

Is it something in the moon cycle? Do darker mornings also mean darker moods for Banana?

This morning, I was up and let Reilly out earlier than usual. I was on target for a morning where everything was pulling together, and then Banana woke up. From the get-go, she was cranky. Considering she'd been cranky the night before, I was a little disappointed that ten hours of rest hadn't reset her mood switch. Nonetheless, her crankiness kicked off another stressful morning. She decided she didn't like the new rice milk I'd bought over the weekend. She didn't want yogurt. It was cold. Her leg hurt. Her stomach hurt. She didn't want to take a shower before she ate.

Unfortunately, I had to play the role of both good cop and bad cop. The good cop was understanding and sympathetic and offered to make oatmeal. The bad cop had to threaten to cancel dinner with our friends this evening. In the end, everything worked out. We made it to school a little later than I'd hoped, and Banana was very helpful in getting stuff out of the house.

I did, however, have to sit and breathe for a few minutes after I'd dropped her off. The stress of it all had taken its own life in my head and back. Raising kids is stressful enough, but when you're the only parent and you have to play every role at all times... well... it seems like every positive, wonderful moment has the possibility of dropping precipitously into a minefield of frustrations.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

some mornings are like this

8:01 a.m. - we've successfully passed the waking up, having breakfast, and getting dressed. Banana and Daddy are both happy and getting ready for the final push where Daddy will eat his breakfast while pulling together the lunch box.

8:02 a.m. - back in the kitchen to eat a banana and have vitamins.

8:03 a.m. - "Daddy, I don't really like bananas." "Really? When did that happen?"

8:04 a.m. - "Daddy, I don't really feel like going to school today." "Really? Why?" "Because I don't feel good." All evidence points to the child being fine.

8:05 a.m. - The voice is getting whinier. "Daddy, I don't really like the Y Aftercare." "Is it because AE is still being mean to you?" The eyes are beginning to look puffy. She nods.

8:06 a.m. - "Sweetie, we can talk about it later, but what I need right now is for you to finish your vitamins and finish getting ready for school." The puffy eyes have now begun to water, and the whimper kicks in. I'm still trying to measure my words and my tone while the whimper turns inexplicably into a full cry.

8:09 a.m. - We're into full meltdown, and I'm trying to take in a bit of my fruit and yogurt while simultaneously pulling lunch materials together and trying to talk down a little girl who is now saying that I am "the meanest daddy in the world" and who is begging for mommy. Mind you, dear reader, that nothing has passed in the past two minutes since I asked her to finish her vitamins.

8:11 a.m. - "You know, Daddy, I don't really like lemonade." Lemonade dumped and water poured, Banana exits the kitchen.

8:12 a.m. - How the fuck am I going to get everything together and get her to school and me to work?

8:13 a.m. - I find her in her room in abject tantrum. Why? Some of the water spilled on her diary. Offers to dry the diary off are refused. I stalk out of the room and make it halfway down the hall before correcting my approach.

8:14 a.m. - I kneel down and tell her that I'm very sorry she spilled the water, and that I'm very sorry that she is upset, but that I very much need her to get some shoes on and brush her teeth.

8:15 a.m. - I pick her up and hold her for a couple minutes.

8:18 a.m. - I leave the room as she is putting on socks and her pink Chuck Taylors.

8:21 a.m. - She trots in the kitchen, grinning. She has brought some coins with her. "We put it in the Fox bank at school," she announces. "Can you get your teeth brushed?" I ask. She nods happily and bounces back to the bathroom.

8:28 a.m. - We begin the final move toward the door. I am still befuddled.

8:32 a.m. - Outside, locking the door. "It's the third day of Fall, Daddy, and it reeeeaaaallly feels like Fall."

8:33 a.m. - "Yes, it does," I say after a deep breath. The air is cool, and I'm still befuddled.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

wow

There has been plenty of rumbling about McCain's begrudging support in his party and further rumbling about how he has lost some Republican support, but losing George Will has to occupy a special level of Republican Hell. And when Will compares you to the Queen of Hearts, well, it's just a sad day if you're a Republican candidate:
Channeling his inner Queen of Hearts, John McCain furiously, and apparently without even looking around at facts, said Chris Cox, chairman of the Securities and Exchange Commission, should be decapitated. This childish reflex provoked the Wall Street Journal to editorialize that "McCain untethered" -- disconnected from knowledge and principle -- had made a "false and deeply unfair" attack on Cox that was "unpresidential" and demonstrated that McCain "doesn't understand what's happening on Wall Street any better than Barack Obama does."

What a two-fer of criticism: Will and the WSJ. Good going, McCain. Keep it up, please.

*shaking head*

DailyKos has picked up yet another awful example of the government's idea of environmental stewardship. The lede itself is frightening enough:
The Environmental Protection Agency has decided there's no need to rid drinking water of a toxic rocket fuel ingredient that has fouled public water supplies around the country.
EPA reached the conclusion in a draft regulatory document not yet made public but reviewed Monday by The Associated Press.

The ingredient, perchlorate, has been found in at least 395 sites in 35 states at levels high enough to interfere with thyroid function and pose developmental health risks, particularly for babies and fetuses, according to some scientists.


So those are the broader risks, but it's one of the last notes in the article that particularly gives me pause:
Perchlorate is particularly widespread in California and the Southwest, where it's been found in groundwater and in the Colorado River, a drinking-water source for 20 million people. It's also been found in lettuce and other foods.


Granted: poisoning our food and water supplies is nothing new. At what point, however, does news like this become widespread public knowledge and reason for larger changes?

Sunday, September 21, 2008

The market return

After a few weeks off, I made it back to the market yesterday. There is no doubt that Whole Foods has cut into my market purchases. Nonetheless, I came away with some absolutely beautiful produce.

The heirloom tomatoes and peppers have continued to come in. Lettuces are back, and I can't wait for the fall weather to bring more varieties. The pac choi was in again, and I plan to stir fry some with locally made tofu and bamboo shoots tomorrow. Tart and crisp apples have finally appeared. There were a few hawkers trying to rid themselves of watermelons, getting the price down to two melons for three dollars. I was tempted, but I had to remind myself that Banana and I rarely make it through half a watermelon—never mind two. So it was a good, if smaller than usual, trip to Forest Hill.

That said, Banana and I had a couple of long days. She was slated to have the weekend with Banana Mère, but it was a little mixed up with a party with some pool friends yesterday afternoon and a block party on our street this afternoon. It made for a grand, tiring time.

Fast forward to this evening when I was facing down dinner preparations with a tired, potentially-cranky girl on the couch. I looked at the beautiful array of veggies on the cutting board, and came up with a perfect, easy solution.



Penne burro e parmigiano with garlic, fresh basil, a few tomatoes, and olives. Seven ingredients to make for a simple and delicious meal.




(P.S. — Excuse the poor-quality photos. The phone, not the camera, was handy at the moment I needed it.)

Friday, September 19, 2008

Friday Fun - the Ben Folds edition

So I'm in a Ben Folds mood. Somewhere between the fall air in the morning and the scratch in my throat, a couple of his tracks have been trucking through my mind the past few days. So without further ado, some clips from a live recording at Sessions at West 54th way back in 1997...

Covering The Flaming Lips:


Great lyrics and a killer rhythm:


From his earliest stuff:


And a kick-ass version of what may be the greatest post-breakup song ever:

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

question of the day

If WaMu fails as is predicted, do I still have to pay the bills on my WaMu card?

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

more brilliant satire



Enough said...

back to the 80s (please don't)

Let us reiterate: actors should tread very, very carefully when they try to cross over to music. This video is certainly proof. It may also represent one of many, many low cultural moments in the 80s.



Thanks so much to Gothamist for reminding us that this ever existed. Rock on!

Brilliant!

Picked up from Crooks and Liars:



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UPDATE: Brian linked this here, and he added a nice little comment to Republicans about their ability to do satire.

I would also add that our current generations of Republicans do satire the way they do governance: ham-fisted and badly. In fact, I've come to the conclusion that Republicans only care about protecting profits and the profiteers. After all, thinking about the shambles of the past eight years and the Reagan/Bush years of the eighties, what other conclusion can one draw? The protection of the environment is handed over to the people who see resources as something to be exploited not protected, other species as a hindrance rather than part of an ecosystem. Regulation of the health care industry is handed over to people who see it as a profit vehicle rather than something that can (and should) ensure the care and well-being of anyone who needs it rather than anyone who can pay for it. Regulation of our financial industries is handed over to people who honestly seem to believe that debt itself is a commodity, and that corporate profits are the truest sign of a healthy economy. The military is run by people who have a vested interest in proving that might makes right, who embody what Truman warned us against. The educational system is handed over to people who do not believe that a system of education can work. Protection of our citizens is completely abdicated by a ruling class that believes businesses with no civic ethic can regulate themselves and who believe that social darwinism can really work. And we land here.

Is it any surprise that I want to see a better world for my daughter?

economic madness

This interview on Morning Edition this morning is a maddening exercise in double-speak. When confronted with McCain's description of himself as "fundamentally a deregulator," McCain adviser Douglas Holtz-Eakin performs some astonishing rhetorical flips to explain how McCain understands "leveling the playing field." Then later in the interview, Holtz-Eakins performs an even more astounding feat when he suggests that more transparency about CEO pay will lower pay inequity between corporate CEOs and "average" Americans.

Listen to it for the sunshine metaphor alone. But more importantly, listen to it for yet another reason why McCain cannot be allowed to win this election.

Monday, September 15, 2008

ouch

From the NYT headlines just now:

Investors, nervous over the fates of A.I.G., Merrill Lynch and Lehman Brothers, sent the Dow Jones average down 4.4 percent or 504.48 points.


Guess I'll have a couple beers before I check my retirement accounts this evening. On the other hand, maybe this is the time to diversify a bit.

*******

And then from another article in the Times comes this gem of a lede:

After more than six months in triple-digit territory, oil prices dropped sharply on Monday, falling under the symbolic $100-a-barrel threshold as financial woes raised concerns about a slowing economy and slackening oil demand.


Remind me again... how many months have we heard rumblings about "a slowing economy"?

Speaking from this end of the food chain, it certainly seems like we're in deep, deep trouble.

Monday Madness

So, let's just say that the financial news today is a little unnerving. And in the face of it all, Atrios has to remind us of this particularly shade of the early nineties:



*shudder*

sirens

Two police cars just blasted past Chez Impolitic with their sirens and lights going. They were moving easily at 50 down this residential street. I imagine some of the cars coming to our old house did the same thing a year and a half ago. That said, here's a little update on where I am with all of that these days.

Sirens and loud sounds still make me jump, but they have ever since (at least) the shooting at Arkansas in 2000. I still have occasional flashbacks. Overall, though, I've accepted a different take on the whole thing—I am a hero, but I am not larger-than-life; I'm not the only person who has ever been shot, randomly or purposely; the experience was awful and is immutable at this point; and finally, it has simply become part of a remarkable set of growth experiences within the past few years.

I'm not saying that the case is closed—it isn't—but I am saying that am finally beginning to move beyond a certain level of solipsism.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Personal (or family) mythologies, and the lessons therein.

This is a story of painful lessons based on poor research.

A few years ago, I was given my great aunt Dorothy's china and silver. The silver included four sets, and it was Oneida Heiress. The china I had once heard referred to as "Dorothy's Spode." Knowing what little I do about antiques, I saw the Oneida as the lesser and the china as the greater—after all, what I knew of Oneida was inexpensive, but nice flatware and Spode was a name that came with a certain cachet.

After lugging these things around for the past few years, I realized that they were adding little to my life beyond weight. Some friends had tried to point this out, but I hadn't listened. I hadn't listened until I took a long hard look at the realities of my life. Fine china had little purpose in my life, and I didn't particularly like the pattern. As for the silver, I'm not a fan of polishing, and until I am, the stuff would just collect dust. Besides, there was at least one other set with more family history attached to it that I knew I'd be inheriting down the line.

This is all a prelude to my decision to include these items and a few decorative plates I'd also been given from Dorothy's various possessions in the alley sale we held on my block today.

I did a fair amount of research to try to get a value on the china. Unfortunately, it did not have any of the marks that Spode—particularly Copeland Spode—should have. The pattern did not match anything I could come up with online. Still, I remember that remark I heard a few times, that it was "Dorothy's Spode." With that, I put a few pieces and a complete inventory out for people to check out. I also put the silver out, though I had done no research on it. My mistake.

The china drew some interest, but no takers. I asked people to make offers; no one did. They said it was nice and moved on to other things. The decorative plates drew some interest, but only one taker. The woman who bought one plate and who fingered the others with interest pointed out to me that two of the decorative plates were transferware, which significantly decreased their worth I discovered on a quick web search later. On further research, it became clear that "Dorothy's Spode" was either a set of seconds or department store-grade version of a pattern—neither the true pattern, nor the provenance to make it truly valuable.

The silver sold quickly. I asked $40 for the set of four place settings and a serving spoon and fork. When the guy offered me $30, I took it. I was tired of the added weight in my life, and tired of worrying about whether I was going to sell anything at the alley sale. Oh, but isn't short-term gain a long-term loss sometimes. After doing a bit of further research on the china this evening, I decided to check replacements.com for a value on the silver. What I found was that I had given the guy a killer deal—$30 for a set that could sell for nearly two hundred. Granted: selling it for that would require time and patience for polishing, both of which are in short supply.

Still, it's a little bittersweet to discover that I relied on vague memories of family history rather than doing my own investigation. Next time, maybe I'll give a little more respect to the dead and take a little more time to do research. Or perhaps I'll simply take the path I've chosen with the china—Banana likes it, so we'll hang on to it for the time-being.

After all, to quote Wendell Berry: "Short-term practicality is long-term idiocy." I think I'm going to aim for long-term sensibility.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Friday Fun - another politics edition

The use of fonts and music alone in this brand new Obama ad make it fun — and relevant.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

kids grow up

So Banana started first grade last week. What a difference a year makes...



Six is both more amazing and more frustrating than any age before it. By now, kids are developing a truly amazing sense of self—and fighting back accordingly. At four and five, the goofy sense of self and personal development was remarkable to watch, but at those ages, kids are still largely parroting what we parents tell them. Six and going into first grade change that.

At this age, kids become truly empathetic and truly seem to develop their own ways of thinking about the world. That little glimmer you saw in their eye at a year and three and four and a half has suddenly blossomed into a full-fledged human being. As amazing as it is, it's also very frustrating, but that's another story for another time...

Belated

So, while we were in Ann Arbor two weeks ago, my father insisted that we should hit one of the classic haunts of pre-football crowds at Michigan games—Krazy Jim's Blimpy Burgers. I hadn't been there in years, at least not since sometime in the nineties. This is odd considering a pilgrimage to Blimpy's was practically an essential part of the Michigan football tradition. We'd park in the lot near West Quad and the Union and stop at Blimpy's on our way down to the game, picking up our greasy footballs of burgers and some fried zucchini or french fries to go with it. In the later fall, there might be soup and hot cider. And there was always the line, which snaked out the door. Now, the line snakes out the door and down the sidewalk. Beware anyone who tries to make a quick trip of Blimpy's on a football Saturday: you will end up standing next to this sign for a while.


While we were waiting in line, a neophyte couple behind us asked many questions. They were, in Blimpy parlance, Blimpy virgins. There is, in fact, an annotated menu for Blimpy virgins to explain the ordering process. Put simply, every person (including young children) has his/her own tray. The first order put in is for drinks and sides. Then the burgers are ordered as singles, doubles, triples, quads, or quints. You have your choice of extras, cheeses, and rolls, and you order from the fry cook. The fry cook, mind you, has worked at Blimpy since she was 14, since 1969. She is as much an institution as the place itself. She berates and abuses the customers, but it's the classic heart of gold hiding behind a rough exterior. She will do whatever she can to make your meal the best it can be. While we were eating, in fact, she prepared a grilled cheese for a boy who didn't want a burger. When the condiment-man/cashier shoved it past with a shrug, she loudly said, "Just because it's a damn grilled cheese doesn't mean it doesn't get the same treatment every other sandwich gets. You give him whatever he wants. You show him he matters too." I appreciate this level of service not just because it indicates the care she has been taught and exhibited for almost forty years, but because I have benefitted from it too—for as many years as I can remember, I have asked for Tabasco on my burgers, and she has always obliged, even though there isn't a single Tabasco bottle visible behind the counter and it's not on the menu. But, regardless, this isn't just about me.


With that great (albeit surly) service, comes a great result. My apologies the the vegetarians and vegans who read this blog, but I still love my burgers. And Blimpy's serves up a damn fine burger. A triple with grilled onions, provolone, and Tabasco on a kaiser roll. And on the side, fried broccoli and a big bottle of (pretty good) root beer.

Monday, September 08, 2008

plagiarism?

I was searching for images related to the Peterson's Guides today, and one of my searches brought up this old logo for the company:


The image seemed awfully reminiscent of something else I've seen recently, something that was supposedly designed recently:


I guess this means the McCain campaign is so bereft of new ideas that they can't even design a unique logo. Or maybe it's just that there isn't anything they won't recycle. Anybody care to comment?

late sunday fun

Just picked this up off of Gawker. Awesome and funny. Oh, McCain, your people were so short-sighted in their choices of background material during your big speech.

Sunday, September 07, 2008

Whole Foods hits Richmond

And it hit with a gigantic bang. I headed out there late this morning, thinking that Sunday morning should be relatively quiet. No way. Not even. The place was packed. I have a feeling Trader Joe's will be similarly mobbed when it opens soon. Yet another reason I'm amazed it took so long for these stores to land in Richmond... and perhaps another testament to how much the population of Richmond has changed since Fresh Fields (later bought out by Whole Foods) opened a store here in 1994.

I will say this for Whole Foods: it has Banana's stamp of approval. Realizing that I would be too busy this afternoon to roast a chicken, I bought one of their rotisserie birds. She declared it some of the best chicken she has ever had, and asked for me to put a leg in her lunch tomorrow. That's a first.

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On a side note, I've been remiss about the blog again. Life, life, life...

Friday, September 05, 2008

Friday Fun - the RNC edition

So many good moments on the Daily Show this week, but this has to be one of Stewart's best ever.



This is really good too...

McCain

I have one thing to say about McCain's speech... apparently none of his handlers have ever watched The Colbert Report. If they had, there is no way they would have had McCain speaking in front of a green screen (or a blue screen) again. Ever.

Let the games begin.

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

RNC moment

Mitt Romney is speaking now, and what amazes me is that the talking points never change, not even a little bit. Apparently, though, Mitt didn't get the memo that you're supposed to call the liberals Democrats; instead he relies heavily on the word liberal, and on old, tired tropes like "the party of Big Brother."

*sigh*

Now, the liberals/Democrats are to blame for the mortgage meltdown. Amazingly, that provides the "perfect" seque to tie Ronald Reagan to John McCain. Honestly, if you listened directly to the rhetoric, you'd think it was a liberal or a Democrat who'd been running and destroying the country in the past eight years.

Perhaps the choicest visual moment is that of "Prosperity" signs being raised while people are chanting "U-S-A." The irony in that is rich beyond belief.

note to self

I occasionally read political journalism that swing to the opposite end of the spectrum. Call it an exercise in knowing the enemy. But then there are the moments when my head explodes and I realize I can't stand some of the maddening obfuscations and twisted rhetoric required by the adherence to old, tired storylines.