Mamamontezz's Mental Rumpus Room

So?

Okay, I need an opinion. Does this look okay?

I'm trying to work up a cool banner for the Blog Son, and this is the first effort.

Suggestions? I'm open to them.

Memorial Day

Often, it is the convert who is the strongest believer, the son- or daughter-in-law who is the best child, the immigrant who is the greater patriot. There has always been some truth in that observation.

Today, we see very vivid example of this at the Rottweiler. An American by choice, Misha gives us all a lesson that many of us need, if even just a little, on this day.

If you have a printer, make yourself a copy to share with those who travel through life "Internet-impaired."

Also, please take a moment to read the Blog Son's thoughts on this day. He's one of the people we should all be walking up to today. He's the one who's hand we should be shaking, and to whom we should be saying "Thank you."

Yes, Memorial Day is to remember those who died to preserve our freedom, our land, our lives. Take a moment and thank someone who is still doing this for us every day. Go give a good word to Kevin at Boots on the Ground. Go give a thanks to Blackjack, too. Make Nathan feel a little better about that dead laptop while he's deployed.

Oh, and Thank you.

Pizza?

Well, it looks like the Bomb Planters in Iraq are having some of the same problems as their little, like-minded buddies in Gaza.

TWO men were killed when a bomb they were planting by a road north of Baghdad, exploded prematurely, police said today.

"We discovered two bodies. They were killed when they tried to plant a home-made bomb on the road in the Baiji area," Lieutenant Colonel Aymad Abdullah al-Obeidi said.

US convoys frequently drive along the road running through Baiji, which heads south to Baghdad and north to the city of Kirkuk.

Makes a person wonder if maybe Emperor Misha needs to start another Pizza fund to commemorate Stupid Bomb Planters in Iraq now, too.

More Great Finds

I love to look through my links at Technorati and see who has linked to me. I've found a lot of really great blogs that way, and I try to reciprocate as soon as I can.

Today was no exception. IHaveACrazyWife is a fun blog, and I'm really pleased to add it to the happy little linky list on the right.

And while there I find this Great Piece!

It's coming, I'm sure.

How long will it be before Ted Rall again defames this man who died in service to his country. I can well imagine how vicious it will be this time, with the news that Pat Tillman died in a "Friendly Fire" incident and not by the hand of the enemy.

The hand which held the gun which fired the bullet which killed Spec. Tillman is not what determines his heroism. It is that he was there, by his choice, doing what he knew was right that determines his heroism.

You know this. I know this. Most logical people acknowledge this.

You can bet, however, that Rall does not. Nor shall he ever.

Fine, I'm a Sycophant, so sue me.

I see this weird story by way of a link at Lucianne about some blogger who could be Clooney, could be Afleck, could be Carey, could be Cowboy Bob from Channel 4 in Bloomington, Indiana for all we know. Whoever he is, he's caused quite a stir, because, well, because for the most part a huge section of the population are complete idiots, incomplete idiots, or fawning, sycophantic worshipers of all things Hollywood, LA, Beverly Hills, or Burbank. You get the picture.

Funniest thing about this "news article" is that the writer wasn't even bright enough to include a link. Go figure. You'd think if a journalist were writing about a blogger, ie, one who writes a blog, he would have the mental ability to make the leap of logic required to think about placing a link to that blog in the story. No such luck.

But Google is my friend, and here is the link. Rance, huh? And no one can figure out who you are? And we're surprised about that? Well, frankly I could give a hot damn who you are as long as it stays as irreverant and funny as the few posts I read. I'm keeping it linked here.

Welcome!

I just love it when Misha posts about a new blog. And this one's worth looking at and then some.

Welcome to the blogroll, Blackjack. And the rest of you, ease on over to The Hole Card for a great read.

Oh, and Blackjack? You're a funny guy, you know that? But then again, Zoomies usually are. I know. I grew up with one. My dad is a 20yr retiree. Master Sargent. Retired in 1968. And just how hard would it be to send some RedBull over there anyway?

*snork*

Aaron is at it again! I just love it when he gets those juices flowing and his brain starts to working. You just never know what will emerge.

This time it's his take on a Country Joe and the Fish classic.

Get thee to the Rantblog, and get thee there now.

"Major Mathew Schram's Memorial Day"

Matt has written this far more powerfully than I ever could. If you read no other post on any other blog today, please make sure it is this one. No sacrifice should go unrecognized, no life uncelebrated, no loss unmourned.

Blackfive, as a blog and as a blogger, you are an inspiration.

Christian Place Names and the ACLU

In a move that surprised nobody, the ACLU announced today that they have submitted letters to all 50 state legislatures demanding that all city, town, village and berg names taken from biblical sources be changed immediately or face lawsuits.

"The constitution is very clear on this," stated ACLU attorney Walter Loopey. "No state can endorse or imply an endorsement of any organized religion based on the perceptions of a majority of people. Clearly, place names like Salem, Ninevah, Shilo, and Santa Monica are in violation of our constitution."

"When you inflict Judeo-Christian placenames on a population, you alienate all the Wicans, Muslims, Druids and Atheists who call those places home. No one should be made uncomfortable in their chosen community."

Also attached to each letter was a list of suggested new place names which the ACLU decided were less offensive. Sure to be popular choices are such new town names as Smartybum, Rottweiler, Earwax, Pooflinger, and Sithmonkey.

Also, several large corporations have stepped up to help fund any of the expenses incurred in making these name changes by offering endorsement contracts to any cities willing to change their names to Pepsi, Nike, Viagra, Kotex, and Marlboro.

"We are looking at this as an opportunity," said town councilman Mitch Methusela of Saint Joseph, Maine. "Hell, with all the Canadian potatoes being dumped on the U.S. market, this town's economy was in the crapper. We're in negotiations now with Ron Popeil."

"If everything works out, our new town name of Pocket-Fisherman might just help bring in a few tourist dollars. Of course, we'll have to dig a pond for all these tourists to fish in, but that shouldn't cost too much."

Well, don't kid yourselves. It could happen.

Willy Wonka in the 21st Century

AMC last evening showed a "family film," Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, a film originally released in 1971, I believe.

I remember seeing it with the family the first time in the small theatre at Ft. Benjamin Harrison on a Saturday afternoon. Even back then, at about 15 yrs old, I was taken aback by the total "Drugginess" of the movie. It was psychedelic and just a bit sadistic, from the sets and props, to the swirling lyrics that popped and shimmied onto the screen during the Oompa Loompa songs.

Oh, and lest we forget, how about the Kubrick-2001-esque trip through the tunnel with the ever quickening light show, disturbing projections and chicken decapitation? Pretty big gamble back in 1971, wouldn't you say? And no, I don't remember seeing Salvadore Dali's name in the credits anywhere. I looked.

During the film last night, two young couples ate chocolate fondue in what we are asked to imagine was living room of one of couples and discussed the film in brief segments at the commercial breaks. One of them stated that Gene Wilder was not the only person considered for the Wonka role, that one of the others considered was Fred Astaire. I imagine that would have been interesting, what with the psychedelics and such, we would have had the added interest of orange faced Oompa Loompas in tap shoes, shuffling back to Oompa Loompa Land.

Well, rumor of rumors, it seems that nothing is sacred these days (like we didn't know that), and there's a play being made to remake Willy Wonka. (I guess Wizard of Oz was not available, or they'd have taken a shot at that one, too.)

Interesting. Given the times now compared to the times then, it would certainly be different. The Oompa Loompas would probably be into either Hip-Hop or Ozzie. But who would play Charlie or Wonka? Or Grandfather? Or Slugworth? Not to mention those moms and dads and thier vile offspring?

Imagine Quentin Tarantino directing Willie Wonka... Ewww, that would probably mean John Travolta as Wonka. Can't handle that. Could be worse though. Penny Marshall directing would probably inflict Rosie O'Donnell on us as Wonka/Wonkette (sorry, Wonkette). Michael Moore handling it as an anti-Bush diatribe with George Soros as Wonka, destablizing entire governments in his global Gob-Stopper Market Manipulation.

Even worse, Billy Bob Thornton directing and cast as Grandpa, and one of those kids from the Welchs Grape Juice commercials as Charlie. Now I'm scaring myself.

Reaction to the Reaction

I admit, I slept through all but the first few moments of the president's speech last night and remained asleep until Bill O'Reilly's show started. That man, in tandem with Dick Morris, are better than the obnoxious fog-cutting screech produced by my alarm clock each morning.

I rubbed my eyes, copped a huge yawn, and settled in to listen to what the odd couple had to say.

Apparently, Dick Morris is of the opinion (opinions? Dick has Opinions?) that the president didn't feminize his speech enough. He didn't make it emotional enough, or appeal to the Mommy-Nurture-Security nature of the female psyche. He stated that We (women) needed to be shown with specific examples how we and our comfy nests complete with tender young were being protected from the boogieman Bin Ladin.

Excuse me? Dick? That may have been the case with politically innocent, ill-informed, fresh out of highschool wives 40 years ago. This is no longer the case by a long shot.

I don't need my hand patted while comforting "there-there's" are coo-ed at me to prevent my developing a case of the vapors while my diminutive mind tries desparately to decipher the rich and masculine code which is Politics. To insinuate such is an insult to me and to the strong, intelligent, and very savy woman who gave me life and the ability to understand political rhetoric from all sides of an issue.

This stereotype is as offensive as it is widespread, much at the hand of hardcore feminists who began by discounting stay-at-home moms, and have moved on to demonize women who embrace political ideas and ideals counter to their enlightened, tolerent, progressive, and Asolutely Correct politics.

I get it. I get it and I don't need politicians and their handlers and the pundits and their handlers to resort to the "Awwwww" factor of using fuzzy bunnies in green meadows and sweet naked babies with daisies in their hair in order to get it.

It is not going to hurt my brain to use the logic necessary to see beyond the chaos of Nazi WerewolvesIslamist terrorists committing random acts against the coalition and civilian contractors, and on to the bigger picture of what is happening in the country overall. I'm not going to burst a vessel listening to the generals discuss the actions happening on the ground in Najaf or Falujah or Tikrit, or any other of those shit-holes. I may, however, the next time one of you "analysts" tries to talk down to me and explain it all in soft, female terms that I'll "understand."

Oh, and by the way... When was it decided that Dick Morris was some annointed spokesperson for Feminine Perceptions and Political Capabilities? I don't know about you, Dick, but I'd be insulted as hell if I were you. That would be like me being picked as the spokesperson for Masculine Political Perceptual Constructs just because I'm a large woman in comfortable shoes and pleated chino trousers.

Festival of Linkage, aka, too busy to blog today, go read some stuff...

Left unsaid is that the Times should have known better, as well. Yet, incredibly, the paper of record has never run a corrective editor's note to clean up the mess that Miller made for the Times' integrity.

Yes, the NYTimes is certainly complicit in the entire Chalabi mess, isn't it?

**********

The Idaho Statesman says Leavitt & Associates needs some firm bottoms for research on its 'manually self-operated butt-kicking machine'.

I can think of quite a few persons I'd like to submit as test subjects for a butt kicking machine.

**********

"You, Zell Miller, are a disgrace to your city, your county, your state and your country," Franklin wrote. "Your attack upon the U.S. Senate that you sit in now was so unpatriotic it boggles the imagination."

Zell Miller, you are every bit the Patriot, regardless of what this "Academic" may believe. You can come to Indiana and teach in just almost any university here and you would be welcome.

**********

"I think Washingtonienne didn't realize her soapbox was visible to the rest of the world. Ideally, she goes away for a couple of years and writes a wonderful literary novel that is like Lolita' meets Primary Colors'. "

Washingtonienne needed a simple lesson in IT security. She should have been "doing" the computer nerd instead of some "married chief of staff" from another office.

**********

The Die Hard star has allegedly angered locals near his Malibu home because he keeps walking down the nearby secluded beach without any clothes on.

Since your secluded beach apparently isn't secluded enough, Bruce, there's a lovely little property for sale right across the street from me here in Haughville with a privacy fence you might be interested in.

**********

May God rest your soul, sir. May he rest your soul.

**********

Have a great Saturday. What are you doing inside reading this when you could be out with the kids or the wife or the girlfriend, feeling grass between your toes, the sun on your shoulders, and the warm touch of a hand within your own? Enjoy your day, people.

Ten Love scenes...

...That I never want to see.

1. Keith Richards and Courtney Love.
2. Jackie Chan and Moniq'ue
3. Vern Troyer and Roseanne Barr
4. Billy Bob Thornton and the Olsen Twins
5. Hugh Hefner, Anna Nicole, and Pamala Anderson
6. Marlon Brando and Bette Middler
7. Ozzie Osborn and Lynn Redgrave
8. Michael Jackson and Elizabeth Taylor
9. Angelina Joli and Dana Carvey
10. Danny DeVito and Liza Minnelli

Can you think of any more?

Trollage, redux

Mr. McClelland last night left a huge blog post, cut and pasted, in my comments. This same comment has been left, I am sure, on countless other blogs, and in every single case is probably as completely off-thread as it was here.

It's abundantly apparent, at least to me, that having his own blog is not enough. He must blog everywhere, whether welcome or not.

Well, let's do a little summary of what is not welcome:

Long winded off-thread comments=Not welcome.
Cut and paste blog posts in the comments=Not welcome.
Pictures of crap (literally) in the comments=Not welcome.
Personal attacks based on political thought=Not welcome.
Blog Spam of any sort=Not welcome.

Now let us do a little summary of what is welcome:

Brief off-thread comments for clarification=Welcome within limits.
Brief off-thread comments as greetings=Welcome.
Well thought out arguments=Welcome.
Civil dissent that is on-thread=Welcome.
Fawning, groveling, and bribery=Welcome, but send it in a personal email for my private enjoyment.

Not a lot there that isn't common sense. And other than one sickening white supremacist months ago, everyone but Mr. McClelland has known these things innately. Some people were just raised to know what is acceptable and what is not when you speak with people. Some people, sadly, either were not, or "overcame" all the social essentials their families and teachers worked so hard to impart upon them.

Other bloggers may allow him to clutter up their comments with his off-thread, expanded ramblings and nonsense, but I don't have to, and at this point I won't. I will not play host to the electronic parasite that is Mr. McClelland.

So now, unless yet another "impersonator" has been sullying his Good Name, he is gone. He can say what he wants. I would give a Damn but honestly I don't. That would be the waste of a perfectly good Damn.

Hyssie-fit? Perhaps. But you know what? Too bad.

Update: The IP's keep rolling in. There are now three, and they all are linked to this "imposter" who "impersonates" the faultless Canadian. And since I can never truly be sure which is the real and which is the usurper, they all must be treated the same.

That is what "zero tolerance" is all about, you know, where a Rolaid is the equivalent of a Quaalude. We've all seen how well that works.

Well, the precedent has been set. If this is offensive to the victim of the "impersonator" then he is cordially invited to return the favor and add my IP to his lenghty list of the banned. I'm sure I'll have good company. But of course that will require my IP, and as I never visit there (can't vouch for my readers), I'd be interested in how that would be accomplished.

Three IP's banned, several more to go, I'm sure.

Oooo...

I consider myself lucky. I'm still alive. It's a long way from Texas to Indiana but it is almost a straight shot by interstate to St. Louis, then up I-70 practically to my front door, but nah... It won't happen...

I won't be on my way to my car some bright and early morning when a black throwing star whizzes past my head and sinks an inch into the doorframe close enough to my head for me to feel the slight stir it causes in the air. I won't be forced to turn quickly and drop into a crouch to evade the silent attack of Texas Ninjas. Nah.

But perhaps next time I should take into account someone else's intellectual property when Rallerizing Rall.

Or perhaps not. A little excitement is nice when you're a housewife in Indiana with nothing but your Russian 7.62x.54 to play with and no range within 50 miles that will let you use it. Ninjas, Texas Ninjas, might be just the answer.

Thanks, FrankJ, for the Lovely Linkage. Just teasing about the Ninjas...

The Ninth Circus

Here we have an Idea that is long overdue for the citizens of the western states.

"For too long, Arizonans have been held hostage by activist judges out of San Francisco, who have consistently ruled against ranchers, farmers, miners and our timber industry," Renzi explained in a speech introducing the legislation. "The Ninth Circuit Court is out of touch with the traditional western values that still hold true in our communities, and the scales of justice must be balanced."

This is true of most situations where we of the "Flyover States" are subject to the whim of the interests of the Coastal Courts and Urban Interests that surround us. In Indiana, court decisions drop from Chicago like unwanted relatives.

Let's hope, as Sir George says, that "this dog will hunt."

Thanks to Jack for the tip!

Arabian Beauty Pageant

Thanks to Misha for this story. I'm just glad we didn't have to watch the talent competition on ESPN. I don't think I could have handled it.

Congratulations

To one of my LC friends, he who IM's me as soon as I'm logged in (and I still don't know how he does that), the one who even entertains my 9yr old in IM and does it with grace and humor:

Happy Graduation, Spybabe! Delfts, Anna, and I are so very proud of you!

In Stores Soon!

Wow. I can hardly wait. /sarcasm

Trollage.

We hear much lately about Freedom of Speech, and our right to voice our political thoughts and beliefs without fear of governmental reprisal. This is a freedom each of us holds very dear, almost ahead of some of our other rights as outlined by the constitution. It is our freedom of speech that allows us to defend these other rights.

It is our freedom of speech that protects us from imprisonment if something we publish is deemed "dangerous" or "un-American" by some lower level bureaucrat at a linoleum-topped 1960 military surplus desk in some basement office with no windows, as is the case in many of the "enlightened" nations of western Europe.

If we did not believe that this freedom were real, a great many of us would never have mustered the courage to put our thoughts on the electronic page. But we do have faith in the system, faith (for the most part) in our elected officials, and faith in our fellow diarists and bloggers.

To say that the Blogosphere is "one big happy family" would be both cliche and patently untrue. Yet within this seething mass of contradiction, flame wars (Meow), and extreme URLs we do see small, tight-knit groups which do function a lot like families, albeit predominantly dysfunctional ones.

The Munuviana folks are an excellent example of this. As a group, they are diverse, intellegent, and supportive. We do not typically share the same political, moral, ethical, or religious beliefs. And I have not encountered a single instance when any of them has participated in any manner of Blogopheric Warfare against another of the bloggers Mu.Nu.

Another is the group, proudly self-proclaimed Loyal Citizens of blogger Emperor Misha of the Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler. A much more political group, the Loyal Citizens proudly acknowledge and celebrate their conservative politics, often in satirical, angry, and well supported "rants" and defend these views from those who would disparage them, either through negative linkage or in the comment threads at the Rottie or on their personal blogs. They follow, albeit unsaid, that motto of the U.S. Marines-"No better friend, no greater enemy."

There are also both loosely knit and more formally joined groups of bloggers from every other viewpoint, putting their beliefs out regularly, and sharing them with whomever finds them and returns as regular readers.

We are the equivelent of the single sheet, mimeographed papers and flyers that could be seen on every campus in America during the 1960's and 1970's, railing against every form of injustice, rallying people to exercise their rights, and pushing people into acting on their civil responsibilities to change what could be changed.

We are also our own worst ememies.

There are those among us who delight in tracking back the URLs of commentors on the blogs they frequent, and indiscriminately placing "spam" comments on their posts. These "Off Thread" comments often contain links to pornographic sites, offensive or repugnant images, or are filled with diatribes and ramblings which are equally offensive to anyone with any sort of civility.

One such comment found its way here the other day. The individual chose to call me a Nazi by use of the phrase "Reich Whinger" and linked to a photo of what probably was the product of his own sphincter floating in the appropriate household recepticle for such biological by-products. This linked photo was said to be said "Reich Whinger" in the natual habitat of persons with conservative political beliefs.

This is offensive on many levels, not the least being that as I have never so much as accessed this individual's blog, much less left any sort of comment on it. The comment was an unprovoked attack on me as a woman, as a human being, and as a blogger. And as this is offensive to me, as a woman, as a human being, and as a blogger, I chose to exercise my free speech and edit the comment. I also have left a notice in the comments that this blogger is not welcome on this site, nor are his attacks and ramblings, unnecessary and unprovoked as they are.

Today, I see that he has travelled back into this blog to see how his handywork was received, and apparently was unappreciative of the edit. In a search of my linkage through Technorati I see that he has directed his 25 or 30 weekly readers to come over here and see what I have done. Of course, instead of stating that I edited his filth, I am accused of "impersonating" him.

Actually, that is quite funny. Funny enough to ban his IP. And don't even begin to state that I'm violating the Free Speech Rights of this individual. I'm not the government. I'm exercising my Free Speech Rights.

And have a nice day.

Ghastly

It has been extremely difficult to write the last few days. The events have been so horrifying, and the reaction so stupifying that even the thought of putting anything down had done little but raise my blood pressure and make me heartsick. I'm going to try to get something down today, to vent some of the frustration and preserve my well-being if nothing else.

Let us start with the idiotic situation at Abu Gharib. If I hear one more time that these fools were only following orders and had no choice I am going to scream. I will be easily heard by canines all the way to Texas. The howl may actually take out Castro's radio jammers.

Whatever happened to the concept of a legal vs. illegal order? Isn't there some provision in the UCMJ regarding an illegal order and the responsibility of all military personnel NOT to follow illegal orders? Aren't there protections and safeguards for individuals who recognize an order as illegal and take appropriate steps?

Where were these people's minds?

Moving right along now, let's look at just how the country reacted to these moronic acts. Let's start with the general public. Overall, the people on the street have looked at this situation and have put it in perspective. They see these photos and hear the stories and they know that a lot of the wailing and gnashing of teeth is contrived and politically motivated. They look at the press reports and know that some of what they are seeing is fake, some of it was overblown, and what portion of it that is true is an abberation. For the largest part, people have enough sense to see beyond the sensational and grasp what is really happening.

Which leads us to the source of all the information they have seen: the Media. What a lot of screaching from the high minded and principled keepers of Truth! I haven't seen such seething, vitriol and agenda promotion since I studied that US history chapter on Yellow Journalism and the Penny Press. Pundits passing for Journalists, editorials for news, conjecture for fact, rhetoric for reporting, propoganda for information, and most of it sickening. Actually, to call it merely "sickening" is to be either too kind, or to be one of the minority of the population who actually agrees with their detrius.

These upholders of free speech, these guardians of the rights of the first ammendment are far from even handed with this however, which brings us to the murder of Nick Berg.

The video of the murder of Nick Berg is the electronic equivelent of a well placed terrorist bomb. But where media outlets scrambled over each other to air the photos from Abu Gharib, none of them to my knowledge has aired this sadistic, unnecessary, and religio-racist motivated murder. Fox hasn't, citing a belief that they didn't feel it was necessary to air it in it's entirety. They did, however, air a portion of the audio which included the final screams of an innocent man. The other outlets? At this point, I have yet to see the complete video shown on television, either on regular broadcast television or on the cable outlets.

Don't get me wrong. I don't want to see it. I have no need to see it. I remember the images of September 11, 2001 and do not need any reminder of what terror is. I do not need to see it in the eyes of a young man who must have known that he was about to die at the hands of Islamofacists.

These murderers are sorry shadows of men. They are men who's predecesors, who's fathers aligned themselves with Hitler, who see the murder of Jews, Christians, Animists, Budists, Druids, well face it, everyone but Muslims, as their pre-ordained mission from God. They even murder each other in the name of God if the sect isn't deemed "pure enough" in the eyes of other sects.

Islamists and apologists claim that we, as Christians, have the blood of countless non-Christians on our hands, victims of an out of control Church from five centuries ago. They claim that we are as tainted as these murderers, but with the blood of those who would not convert during the era of Imperialism during the 16th through 18th centuries.

I beg to differ on that point. With relatively few exceptions, interdenominational warfare within the family of Christians has ceased. Christianity grew out of this Heresy-Obsession with the period after the Reformation. No longer do missionaries burst into villages to desecrate and destroy, choosing instead to convert by example, to gently lead people to Christ, not drag them kicking, screaming, or at knife-point.

There is no Christian equivelent to the Madrassahs. Waco was an abberation. What we are seeing now in the Middle East is not. It is rapidly becoming the norm, the accepted mode of behavior, and is the accepted method of warfare.

Let me ask you a simple math question. When was Nick Berg taken hostage by these sons of monkeys? Why, Regis, that would be April 9th. Good, good. Now, when were the photos of prisoner abuse released by CBS and flashed all over the internet? Uh, was it before April 9th? Nope. It was after. Not one week, not even two weeks. Nick Berg was taken hostage, presumably for the reason of execution, by members of an Islamofascist group a full three weeks prior to any release of photos or allegations regarding that group of morons in Cellblock 1A and Cellblock 1B.

It is time. It is time to winnow the grain from the chaf.

Update: Please avail yourself of Misha's thoughts today. Also, please follow the trackback below and go to Sneakeasy's for his Link-O-Rama on a great many thoughts regarding the events of recent days. A humble "Thank you" to Kiril for inclusion in his post.

Get over it.

Donald Rumsfeld spoke to committees of both the Senate and the House of Representatives today. The topic of discussion: alleged abuse of prisoners at an already notorious prison in Iraq by members of a unit of Military Police.

Members of both committees were ramped up and ready for him. Calls for his resignation or his firing erupted, shouted out by persons in the gallery. Calls also came from members of both committees, members who at least on the surface should have had a better grasp of both the precipitating event and the repercussions of any demands they made of Rumsfeld today.

As all good leaders do, Rumsfeld took responsibility for the actions of his underlings, apologizing to both committees for their actions. This should have been the sum total of his culpability, and each and every one of these Senators and Congressmen knew that before, during, and after the meeting.

Let me explain my position. I’ll couch it in a situation with which most liberal arts students are very familiar, from both sides of the experience.

When you drive up to McDonalds to place your order, McRib Value Meal, Supersized, Diet Coke, you have a reasonable expectation that it will be filled correctly and handed to you though your car window, hot, fresh, and edible. But it isn’t. The fries are so old they snap, the Diet Coke is all syrup, and the McRib has a snout.

Who is responsible? Why, responsibility lies with the fool in the back who put the hog-snout onto your bun, for one. The moron who let those fries sit under the heat lamp for two hours is another. The trainer who neglected to show the new guy exactly how to hook up the lines in the soft drink dispenser is certainly responsible for your drink.

I will certainly go so far as to say that the line supervisor needs to apologize and replace your meal. If he doesn’t, then his manager is certainly fair game. But in no way, shape, or form is the board chairman so responsible for your horrific experience that his resignation in any way merited, not should there be any reasonable expectation of it by you as a dissatisfied customer.

Now, before you start to hyperventilate, charge up your blood pressure, and start screaming that I’m trivializing the suffering of these poor, innocent Iraqi civilians, held against their will and tortured by these evil minions of the Super Evil Military Industrial Complex for the enrichment of Bush and his cronies at Haliburton, I want to ask you one thing: where was the torture?

Where was the rape room? Yes, I saw some naked men posed on the floor or standing by cots. But I saw no military personnel with raging tumnescent members invading the unwilling asses of these once proud and peace loving individuals. I saw none of them forced to actually felate each other for the entertainment of each other or the observing guards. I saw no one suspended over Saddam’s Troy-bilt chipper shredder. I saw no red welts, open wounds, bloody abrasions, broken bones, bruises, black eyes, missing hands, mouths with no tongues, crushed feet, horny jackasses, attacking rottwiellers, or enraged menopausal feminists with Ginzu Knives.

What I did see was humiliation and fear. And that person on the wooden box with the hood and presumably wet blanket, holding the electrical wires? Has any of us seen any photo or tape actually showing this man at the receiving end of any current? No, we haven’t and we won’t, the reason being that just the fear that this person felt knowing that what he held in his hands were wires and that the wet blanket was a wonderfully conductive device was enough.

It’s a trojan horse, a starter pistol in the hands of the “Bad Cop”, the interrigation equivalent of a disgruntled teenager getting what he wants by threatening his parents with a rubber dog shit on the dinner table when his mother takes her dinner guests into the dining room.

But let’s go beyond that. As I sit and watch this, it was announced that 69% of respondents to a poll believe that there is no reason for Donald Rumsfeld to resign or be fired. 69% is a “super majority” of all those polled and is representative of more than appears on the surface.

It shows that most people understand the concept of responsibility in a situation like this. It shows that most people understand that there is a limit, and that they will not breach that limit just because it is politically expedient to do so. Yes, people want those immediately involved to be held accountable and punished accordingly, but they also realize that you don’t paint everyone above them in rank with the same tarred brush

Aunti Rall

You know, if I had the time and the inclinaiton, I'd put up a site called "Aunti Rall" and re-draw and parody every hate-filled, ignorant, treasonous cartoon he has published.

But that would require a sweatshop filled with immigrant eastern European cartoonists, clutching pencils, erasers and Sharpies™, huddled over egonomically incorrect desks in hard, wooden chairs that wobble. They would be forced to work long hours for little (no) pay, while they scribbled copies of his sophomoric doodlings onto cardstock.

The suicide rate among the laborers would be astronomical, as one by one they master the American English and begin to understand the venom they have forced to replicate. Just the idea that one who has had the benefits afforded a lifetime of natural citizenship would feel about his country and her people the way he does would drive them to despair, and eventually cause many of them to become so disheartened that they attempt to take their own lives.

Would this be worth the toll in human lives? I think not. Would it be satisfying on a personal and spiritual level? Absolutely. But is it feasible? Perhaps, when I win the lottery. For then, I will be able to have a team of crack attorneys at my beck and call to defend me from the lawsuits, and a cocoon of security personnel to protect me from the morons who would swarm to avenge the mighty and terrible insult of Graphic Fiskings.

Ah, well. Until then, I'll just have to be content to keep posting this.

In the interest of Legalese and civil incivility everywhere, this is a PARODY. Free speech, children. That street still runs in both directions.

Cut and paste, fine people. Get it out and spank him with it. Aaron's spanking him with some Lovely Examples of the Graphic Fisk, too.

Spread the love, folks. Spread the love.

Catch them, please...

Every day, I try to live with more civility. I look into the people I meet and see beyond the visual. I trust people to be good, and to do the right thing, and believe in the good of people, sometimes even beyond that point when some people show me that they are unworthy of my consideration and effort.

I really do think that most of us are trying to do the right thing for the right reasons, not just for reasons politic or "karmic" or for appearances.

Then I hear about incidents like this and it's like a great heavy boot heel grinding away on my soul. And I'm tired of feeling that boot, of hearing the insideous talking-points of hatred coming from ever younger people.

We used to hear in school that it might take a generation for the deepest seated and longest held prejudices to whither, and at least another for some of the slicker, hidden attitudes to begin to die out. But every day another example of this sort of non-acceptance springs out like some societal infection and another segment of our youth and our souls is lost.

To the family of Mr. Byrd, my thoughts are with you. No one deserves to see this kind of sick evil visited on the final resting place of a loved one.

Oh, Joy!

This made my day.

Thanks, Misha. And now I feel like a beer. Maybe even a cigarette... Nah, done without those since September, just a beer will be fine.

Waxing Symbolic, Again

As a young child I read a book that touched me deeply. Man Without a Country told the tale of a man, an American, who was condemned to live his life forever at sea, unable to again stand on American soil.

The longer this man was denied the comforts and freedoms of this country, the more he realized just how much he lost through his exile. I do not recall the crime for which he was convicted, or the reason for this particular punishment, but I remember thinking how horrible it would be to never have a place to call home, to be forever prevented from reaching that place which once had been home.

It probably struck me a little harder than most of the children my age, as I was one of those military brats, uprooted every few years, taken from one end of the country to another, time and again the new kid. There were times when I strongly identified with the man with no country, knowing in my childish, innocent way the painful stirrings of memory.

Perhaps this is why I feel so strongly about our men and women overseas. Yes, a large part of it is as a result of being raised in a home where service was valued and "patriot" was not an insult. But a significant part of it comes from the sense of forever being away from that mythical, beautiful place called Home.

For all of the men and woman overseas who serve and protect not only this country but the downtrodden and weak of inhospitable lands, you're held tightly in the hearts of many of your countrymen. May you never feel like Men and Women Without a Country. Even as nay-sayers and their sycophantic cronies point at isolated wrongs, smearing all of those who serve, remember that little school children pray for your safety every day.

Such an Offer!

I had the most amazing thing happen to me Monday night. Minds out of the gutter, please...

When I am at home blogging, I like to either have the news on in the background, or I listen to talk radio. it's almost always interesting and I can glean all manner of goodies for posting here. It's a veritable plethora of blog-fodder, as it were.

Last night was no different than most, with me at the computer, the spousal unit in front of the television engaged in a situation comedy, and the princess doing homework between excursions into the backyard for muddy Rottweiler wrestling. The radio is on and tuned to local talk, Greg Browning at WXNT 1430am.

Well, let me tell you right now that Mr. Browning was on a tear. He was all over the humiliation torture story coming out of Iraq. And something one of his callers said struck a nerve, so I did something just a tad out of character for me (being that I'm such a shy and private individual) and sent Mr. Browning an email. And damned if he didn't respond. On the air. Said my name wrong, but who doesn't?

I almost ruined a perfectly good keyboard with the Diet Coke I was drinking.

Did I ever tell you I have to be the one to always have the last word? Always? As difficult as that may be to believe, it's true, so I fired of another email to him just to see what would happen, and this time included the URL for this humble little place. And lo and behold, he did it again. And just as nice as could be, he apologized for mispronouncing my name and went on to say that he had looked at my site and...

And...

And he said he would like to have me on his show as a guest in his soon to start segment, the Hot Seat.

I'll be damned. Just dip me in sausage gravy and toss me to the rednecks.

Funniest thing about this is that for months I've been telling the spousal unit that I would just love to spend an hour in studio with this guy. I've never done anything like that, never had much of a desire to after a near catastrophe in high school during a mass media class which we will not go into here. I still have nightmares. But this guy just sounds like such an instigator, such a brat, such a Fun Guy that I have wanted to call up and ask if he were taking applications for fat, obnoxious, middle-aged, menopausal interns, because I'm all over that.

Mr. Browning, the ball is in your court. Just make sure there's a coffee pot on. And I don't want some abbreviate, Indians-Game-Preemption, short show, either. Just make sure you know at all times where "The Button" is, and keep a pretty firm grasp on it. I'm a bit like you in that regard. I have to work pretty hard to keep that filter up and running.

Ted Rall is an Ass

I was going to have my nine year old draw the parody, but she couldn't get the concept of drawing beneath one's actual skill level to make it look the same. So I had to do it.

Want to see a larger version? Try here.

Do me a favor. Copy this cartoon, save it on your site and let's get it posted everywhere. Rub his snot nose in his own crap.

Enough is Enough

Point One:
I do not condone nor approve of the torture of prisoners.

Point Two:
I believe that any persons found to have participated in the torture of prisoners should be taken into custody, tried in a fair trial, and summarily punished.

Point Three:
I believe that points One and Two should apply to both sides of this war.

Mr. Bremmer?

General Sanchez?

Mr. Ashcroft?

What is the hold up? Why haven't the tribunals started? If you want to prove that you mean business, you need to start those tribunals now and start executing some strict sentences against the known terrorists and their colaborators that you now hold in Iraqi prisons, at Gitmo, and in the prisons within our boarders.

The longer you hold these people, the longer they remain in their cells, the more you say to those in the increasingly hostile Iraqi street that you do not have the courage to deal with them, be they Jordanian, Iranian, Syrian, Saudi, or of the homegrown variety. You show yourselves to be weak and indecisive, incapable of doing what the Iraqi population and our own troops know needs to be done.

Indecision will get you killed every time. Now is not the time for indecision.

The fools who humiliated prisoners in Iraq five months ago need to be made into Public Examples. And in turn, those prisoners known to have committed acts against our troops, or who colaborated with those who did need to be taken care of and made into public examples now.

Strap them on, Gentlemen and get this ball rolling.

More appeasement?

It seems St. James the Moor Slayer has been relegated to the relative obscurity of a dusty old museum. He has been taken from his place within a church bearing his name because his presence might upset the "sensitivities of other ethnic groups".

The statue is being replaced by one of St. James the Pilgrim, one of the other titles by which this saint is known. Apparently a saint who's apparition spurred on the Spanish troops and assisted in the overthrow of the Moors after an 800 year occupation is not as PC as the counter-image of the same saint as the man who entered Spain and converted the population to Christianity. Rather like the Spanish equivalent of St. Patrick.

"The Baroque image of a sword-wielding St James cutting the heads off Moors is not a very sensitive or evangelical image that fits the teachings of Christ, he added."

Perhaps, but then neither is the accepted portrayal of St. Lucy with her eyeballs on a plate and I certainly don't see that being removed from churches. Self mutilation has never been big in Church circles. I suppose she'll be next.

Or perhaps St. George, who legend tells was seen spuring on British soldiers fighting the Nazis in WWII. No pictures or statures of St. George the Nazi Vanquisher can be allowed now, can they?

Here's the question of the day on this bit: Why are they concerned about what a Muslim sees in a Catholic Church in a predominantly Catholic country? Just how many Muslims tour churches, and this one in particular?

Alejandro Barral, president of the cultural commission for the cathedral council, told BBC News Online: "This is not an opportunistic decision. This is not through fear of fanatics of any kind and nothing to do with 11 March or 11 September."

He said the decision was taken a few years ago, but simply had not yet been implemented.

Cut the crap, Alejandro.

Scum Vandals

Over the next few days, Tanglewood Estates in Volusia County, Florida should be having a “Candid Camera Moment” that I, for one, would love to see.

Seems some misguided and deluded souls took it upon themselves to steal more than 200 big yellow ribbons, lovingly made and placed on lamp posts by the people of this town as a show of support for our military forces fighting overseas.

Then, in what they probably thought was the Coup de Grace, they replaced these bows with signs that read in part “keep the damn yellow bows off of our lamp posts. This is Sharon's war and our men and women are dying."

So much for the Anti-War Left being Pro-Troops.

I’m hopeful that when the good people of Tanglewood Estates gets their bows remade and remounted on the town’s lamp posts, that at least one of them is able to record the comings and goings in the area for a while and catch these bitter, disrespectful clods. And I hope some big, burly, ex-marine dad of a current recruit is the one who catches them.

Just be sure the cameras are turned off for that part.

Persecution by Sharia Law

The world cried out in pain when the Taliban destroyed the ancient Buddah statues carved into the face of a cliff in Afghanistan. That one religion would wantonly destroy the symbols of another was something so foul that it sparked outrage, even from those who embrace Islam.

That savage act, probably above even the acts that the Taliban was perpetrating against the people of Afghanistan, was the defining act with turned the Taliban from "strict adherants" to "radical extremists." Volumes of articles were written on this vandalism. Hours and hours of video decried the atrocity.

But today, the voices are silent. The victims are merely a handful of Christians who's churches are being destroyed as sharia law is being implimented and enforced in the Nigerian state of Zamphara.

Where's the outrage? Where are the journalists and photographers and camera crews to film this persecution? Is it because no one will miss a few little churches in the great scheme of Geopolitics?

Oh, I get it. It's only a bunch of African Christians, anyway, and everyone knows that Christianity was forced on them against their will by corrupt European missionaries. If they knew what was good for them, they'd all be Muslims. Islam is, after all, the religion of the more highly pigmented peoples of the world, isn't it?

Sickening, isn't it? But you know, deep down in their hearts an awful lot of people, media people in particular, feel exactly this way but would be loath to actually express it. The problem is, by their lack of coverage and of outrage, they express it much more eloquently than their words or pictures or videos ever could.

Stealing from the Elderly, Again

The weather was damp and cold when the van pulled up into Miss Violet’s drive. She watched from the window, hungry and just a little light-headed as the driver, a young man, opened the side door, took a sealed aluminum container from the back and headed for her door.

When he knocked, she made her way down the dark hallway and opened the door.

“Violet Freeman?” the man asked, looking at the clipboard that lay across the top of the container.

“Yes, young man. I’m Mrs. Freeman. Where’s Charles? Charles has brought my supper to me ever day for months. Is Charles okay?”

“Ma’am, I don’t know Charles. I’m your driver today. I just needed to make sure I was at the right house.” As he said this, he looked out at the other once proud little homes on the street. Other frail little faces peered at him from behind sheer curtains or through storm doors. “It would be easy to go to the wrong house on your street.”

“Oh. Well, maybe Charles will be back tomorrow. I’ll just hold on to his envelope until he comes back… if that’s alright with you, young man?”

“That would be fine with me, Mrs. Freeman.” He handed the warm container to the little woman. He noticed that she hadn’t taken her eyes off it since he walked up to the door with it.

“Uh, Mrs. Freeman, that envelope for Charles? May I ask what’s in it? I mean, so I can tell him it’s here if I see him?” He felt bad having to lie to her, knowing that Charles wouldn’t be back. Everyone on this route had asked him about Charles’ return and the envelopes they had for him.

The food smelled so good to her she almost swooned. “Why, it’s my bill, young man. Charles said never give my envelope to anyone else who might be covering for him on his route. I’ll just keep it here. Maybe he’ll be back tomorrow.”

She hadn’t eaten since the meal that Charles had brought her yesterday from the Senior Citizens Counseling & Delivery Service. They were such nice folks, bringing her meals every day, and they only charged a little bit. And Charles always made sure she got a nice heavy container. He had told her so himself.

“Mrs. Freeman, you won’t need to do that. I’m with the Urban League and we’ve taken this route over for them. They were just so, uh, busy, you see.” It was just a little lie. He didn’t want to concern her. “You remember the Urban League, don’t you Mrs. Freeman?”

“Oh yes.” She started ever so slowly to back away from the door with her meal. “Good people in the Urban League.

“Well, we’ll be bring your meal from now on. And you take your envelope for Charles and you keep it.”

“Should I start saving the supper money for you now, young man?”

“No, Ma’am. Your bill’s already been paid Ma’am. Uh, something about meals they still owed you from when you overpaid." This one wasn't really a lie, he thought. "Just don’t you worry about it. I’ll be back tomorrow. Hope I’m not as late as today, and I’m sorry about that. I know where you are now. You have a nice day, Mrs. Freeman.”

He turned and stepped down off the front porch as she closed the door. His eyes scanned the windows and doors of the other little houses along the street, and he decided he needed to send one of those Social Service people out here to see if he needed to start making a few more deliveries on this little street.

Note: Maybe I'm just an old cynic, but I have to wonder what the politics of those running the program at the Senior Citizens Counseling & Delivery Service happens to be.