Dumbidity

Obligatory Closing Post

On the auspicious fifth anniversary of our awakening to the War of Islamonazi Aggression, I'm posting the final entry in this online literary effort. I became web-aware to blogging as a by product of the 9/11 Attack and really enjoy it, but priorities and demands on my time are limiting my ability to play with it. It is very probable that I will pick it back up again, but as cheap and miserly as I am, I'm not payin' $9 a month any more. So either next week or next month the link won't work.

To the few who might really miss it, don't shed any tears for me - this isn't like when Larson ended The Far Side, nor when Waterson quit Calvin and Hobbes, or even the final episode of the Marty Feldman Comedy Machine. No, if you have any emotion at all, focus it on the very real threat that religious fanatics are working to institute a persecution that would make the Spanish Inquisition look like a tea party. And know that there are those that don't think they're serious.

I'll leave you (and Google) with a poem of sorts that I finished writing in early November of 2001. I haven't looked at it in about 3 years, and it's dated and a still a little cheesy. But it brought me back and reminded me how I felt nearly five years ago when this nation was united in purpose. Our enemy's most insidious tactic appears to be working, and Abraham Lincoln's warning should be ringing in our ears: "A house divided against itself cannot stand."

So if it's not out already, go get that Flag you stood in line to buy 5 years ago and put it up. And think about the shame you'd feel if some mullah forbade you to fly it.

A Ballad of the New American Spirit

(Works well to the tune and cadence of "The Ballad of the Uneasy Rider" by Charlie Daniels or "A Boy Named Sue" by Johnny Cash)

I was late for work on that fateful day
Couldn't find my keys, stuff got in my way
And I turned to see what the heads in the TV had on.
I couldn't believe what I saw on the screen
The most horrible things that I'd ever seen
In New York City, by Pittsburgh and at the Pentagon.

It was a couple days later that our President said
That we were gonna turn the world on its head
And deal with the evil whenever, wherever it's found.
He told the Taliban that their only chance
Was to cough up that scumball, maybe send him to France
But they didn't take it, just hid with him under the ground.

He said it plain, laid it out real straight
What we're doin' is right and we ain't gonna wait
For the diplomats to delay while they try to make nice.
"You'll be with us or with them" he said lookin' grim
I almost pity the fools that don't listen to him
We'll go with or without you; we ain't gonna ask twice.

Peter Jennings, Tom Brokaw, Wolfe Blitzer and Dan
Rather'd really like to get a look at the plan
That Rumsfeld and Bush are holdin' close to the vest.
They're pitchin' a fit, they wanna put on the air
What our side is gonna do over there
Get the scoop on the street and broadcast it ahead of the rest.

Those high-minded clowns better tighten their lips
Don't compromise missions or endanger our ships
Or uplink maps it might help the bad guys to see.
There's a lot of moms and dads who don't want 'em to show
The enemy troops which way not to go
Or give 'em a clue when and where the action will be.

Now and then Slick-Willie-Bill tries to get on the news
But even the press is tired of bein' used
He's in denial that the stories aren't all about him.
He wants to horn in on the whole ball of wax
Kinda misses the coverage of his Big Mac attacks
But we need to watch out so he doesn't get back in again.

Just a year ago we were all waitin' to see
Who our next President was goin' to be
And to think it almost came down to some hangin' chad.
We'd spent the last eight years in political limbo
When almost every night's news had to show the First Bimbo
And the questions we got from our kids made a bunch of us sad.

Now we got a leader that leads, doesn't wait for the polls
And lets us know his clear view of his goals
Doesn't lie or play with words like our brains were made'a mush.
He's gonna carry this burden he didn't request
But he ain't gonna shirk, he's gonna give it his best
God bless America, an' especially George W. Bush.

There's no doubt in his mind we're gonna get that guy
And his half-wit friend with the patch on his eye
When we're done over there we'll prob'ly have to move on to Iraq.
Saddam Hussein is another evil man
Plottin' bio-terror and worse for our land
So we might as well go on in and clean his clock.

After that there'll prob'ly be somebody else to chase
The lingering dregs of the fanatic nut-case
Who wants mankind to revert to savage ways.
We'll devote our people to rooting them out
If they won't give up, we've got the hammer and clout
To grab 'em and lock 'em up till the end of their days.

We're a people united and we're all gonna stand
Under the Flag that flies all over this land
Again like it did in the middle of World War Two.
We'll watch out for our neighbors, cover each others' backs
Right here in our country we'll be alert for attacks
By the evil ones who hate me and you.

It's a long term effort - it'll take some time
But it'll be worth it wipin' out that crime
Against our great land of liberty.
So don't get discouraged, never give up an' quit
If chicken-little acts hopeless or does the peacenik bit
We're right.
We know it.
We're gonna win and we're gonna stay FREE!

New Weapon in the WOT

Jimmy Dean's pure pork sausage - yes, pig fat - can be the secret weapon against Islamonazi terrorists.

Events of last week, with terroristas plotting to use explosive liquid concoctions to bring down American airliners, had travelers worldwide pitching a variety of liquids including shampoo, toothpaste and deodorants before being allowed on the planes. Oddly, few Fwench passengers seemed inconvenienced.

No, I think pork products are the key to airline safety in the War on Terror. I think the TSA screeners should do like those people clogging the grocery aisles on Saturdays, cooking up bites of odd things for shoppers to try, and have a set of electric skillets frying up sausages - links, patties, smokies - and bacon for the voluntary consumption by those with boarding passes.

Why? Well, if you're an Islamokazie with explosives and a fanatical devotion to some loony Mullah to blow up the infidel, you need to understand the consequences of your actions. You may have been told that you'll float to paradise in the rivers of infidel blood, but you'll also be covered with the contents of the infidel stomach - pork: the forbidden white meat. That foul, unholy flesh will contaminate you so badly that you won't be allowed near paradise, and the spit of your 72 horny virgins will wash you into Gehenna, to be whacked on the head with the soles of shoes and all will point at you with their left hands.

I'm sure the first thing your psychotic Mullah is going to tell you is that your martyrdom will transcend the poison from the flesh and fat of the cloven-hooved beasts. Yeah. Tell me, how much do you trust this guy? He says martyrdom beats pig meat, but you don't see him touchin' it to prove it to you. He's also mighty quick to send you and your pals to play Shiite McGyver with all these creative and innovative ways to blow yourselves into little bitty pieces, but you don't see him waving so much as a firecracker at any infidels. Come to think of it, what makes him so high and mighty that his turban don't stink and you're so low your only hope to enlightenment is at the end of a fuse?

Well if swine flesh isn't as evil as the Prophet (Bless his Name) wrote down in his Holy Blog now that it becomes inconvenient to the nutbag with the dynamite belts, maybe the infidel aren't as bad as all that either.

So all you Terror Cell Patsies out there, beware. The next assignment you get will be in a crowd of people wearing little buttons proclaiming "I ate Shredded Swine Flesh" or "Belly full of Pork Fat" and you, my misguided friend, are taking your eternal chances.

Katrinnaversary Controversy

The guy in the lawnmower commercial on WWL, The Big Ate Seventy, has been sayin' "Summazaponus!" for weeks, and in just 3 more of 'em, it will have been 1 year since Katrina was upon us.

Late last week, growing public outcry squelched some poorly conceived plans by Lord Mayor of the Emeril™ City and some casino officials to mark the date with comedy shows and fireworks. (LINK)

Um, no.

But in a city that loves an argument, there is division on this. Some think only a somber observance respecting those who lost their lives, livelihoods, neighbors and neighborhoods would be appropriate. Others want to celebrate recovery, to the extent it's happening, and rebirth, to the extent it's changing anything.

They both have points, and I think it's clearly inappropriate to hold a comic Standupfest, much less a fireworks display. But I think some acknowledgment of the countless hours - most unheralded - put in by a determined populace to bring their city back is worthy of some formal observance.

Whatcha tinka dat, hanh?

Star in Your Own Vintage '50s Sci-Fi Movie

The last couple of weeks, I've seen increasing numbers of Eastern Lubber Grasshoppers along I-10 between LaPlace and Sorrento in the evenings. They herd up on the shoulder and demonstrate their arrogant intent to cross the deadly lanes filled with onrushing vehicles. I'm not really sure what they expect to attain by crossing - it's nothing but grass and litter, another pair of deadly lanes and more swampy woods on the other side - so they must be driven by some malevolent force.

They are some Ugly suckers, too.

They have a slight advantage over armardillos, opossumii and nutria (and alligators lately) in that the airwash from the carzentrux blows 'em back a few feet and rolls 'em around on the assfault - so they dust off, wogga-wogga-wogga their little buggy heads and try again. Some of them get damaged in this process, but I read they're poisonous so they don't get eaten by much other than maybe fire ants, emetic racoons or suicidal crows, and their little carcasses just sit there.

It is hard to splute them with your front tire, though I managed to gorch quite a few of the massing invaders yesterday evening. I hope I didn't anger their queen - she's the size of an Escalade and spews those buggers out her tailpipe all-day-all-night-Mary-Ann. That's probably why I didn't get pulled over for suspected DWI, sweaving back and forth between targets, because the State Troopers have been captured, and they're all trussed up in her den being tended by her millions of minions.

We'll need a scientific guy with fuzzy white hair and a drop-dead gorgeous daughter to hold a clipboard while lifting her glasses to see how handsome I am as I put her daddy's entomological brilliance into action to defeat the Lubber Queen and save The World.

Note to self - learn how to use a military flamethrower without immolating myself because they're de rigueur at some point in the Defense of Earth against oversized insect invasions.

This Can Be Fisked Fixed

Latest crisis alert from the Asinine Press...

Many Young Americans Unable to Find Louisiana on Map

• One-third of respondents couldn't pinpoint Louisiana on a map and 48 percent were unable to locate Mississippi.

Simply rename the state "Mardi Gras." Problem solved. And who really needs to know where Mississississississippi is?

• Fewer than three in 10 think it important to know the locations of countries in the news and just 14 percent believe speaking another language is a necessary skill.

Racist, xenophobic pollsters should include illegal aliens in their sample.

• Two-thirds didn't know that the earthquake that killed 70,000 people in October 2005 occurred in Pakistan.

I'd say that reflects more poorly on news agencies than American yutes.

• Six in 10 could not find Iraq on a map of the Middle East.

Renew the Draft and I bet they could pinpoint Tikrit blindfolded.

• While the outsourcing of jobs to India has been a major U.S. business story, 47 percent could not find the Indian subcontinent on a map of Asia.

Big deal. Just call 1-800 WHERYAT and whoever answers can tell ya.

• While Israeli-Palestinian strife has been in the news for the entire lives of the respondents, 75 percent were unable to locate Israel on a map of the Middle East.

About 99% of Arab respondents can't/won't find it either. Quit using maps from Arab cartographers.

• Nearly three-quarters incorrectly named English as the most widely spoken native language. ...even in America. 

OK, you got me on that one.

• Six in 10 did not know the border between North and South Korea is the most heavily fortified in the world. Thirty percent thought the most heavily fortified border was between the United States and Mexico.

If they want to fulfill their (renewed) Selective Service Obligation, young mens and wimmens could spend their tours of duty in the extreme Southwest U.S. learning the construction trade - trenching, forming, pouring and finishing concrete, bricklaying, razor-wire running - since it would be sorta rude to underpay Mexican laborers to do it.

Overheard on the Streets of New Orleans

Walking through the Central Business District recently, I overheard a native advising a visitor as they dodged traffic in the middle of the block on St. Charles:

"There's no jaywalkin' lawr in Nuawlin's, but the pennaldy is death."

Great WWII Movies

I have been watching movies about WWII since I was old enough to drool on the remote (which wasn't invented until after I stopped drooling). Watching the movies with my yardbuds led to us re-enacting the action sequences and motivated us to become better read on the specifics. Boys being naturally competitive, we sought to learn more than the other guys and devoured history books.

Peruse the following movie list and go rent a few or dial 'em up on the Ancient Movie Channels. (And Band of Brothers isn't technically a movie, but it is, hands down, the best thing ever to have come from cable television.)

The first group is historically accurate movies [scale (HA) 10 = highest]:

The Longest Day - Based on Cornelius Ryan's compilation of 1st-hand accounts, it features a platoon of marquee actors. Read. The. Book. Historical accuracy: 10.0

Band of Brothers - the history of Easy Company of the 101st Airborne from training, through D-Day, Norway, Bastogne and Berlin. It co-stars Peter, man from Office Space as Captain Nixon. I would've killed to have had a bit part in it. HA: 10.5

Patton - A riveting account of Ike's most notable general. My Old Man thought it an important enough film that he took me with him to see it. HA: 9.5

Ike: Countdown to D-Day - A&E did a great job of showing the delicate military and political maneuvers Eisenhower used to develop Operation Overlord. HA: 9.5

Midway - The Pacific Theater's all-star counterpart to The Longest Day (Henry Fonda and Robert Mitchum are double-dippers). HA: 9.5

Tora! Tora! Tora! - A clinical 360° view of December 7, 1941 from both sides, with subtitles (and Admiral Yamamoto's voice isn't the actor's). HA: 9.5

The Great Escape - A slightly stylised treatment of the prison break that lead to a brutal massacre of Allied POWs by the SS. And Steve McQueen has a motorcycle chase sequence because... because he's Steve McQueen, man. HA: 9.0

A Bridge Too Far - Another of Cornelius Ryan's compilations from the men who were there. It suffers from some fictionalized, and in my opinion, totally unnecessary social commentary-oriented sequences. I strongly recommend the book. HA: 8.0

The Bridge At Remagen - A bit narrowly focused and some hammy acting, but lots of firefight sequences that are easy to replicate in the yard. HA: 8.0

Twelve O'Clock High - Undeniably over-dramatic, but that can be forgiven since it was filmed about 6 years after it was set, AND the sacrifices made by the 8th Air Force are unquestionably some of the most heroic of the war and they get damn little credit for it these days. HA: 7.5

Memphis Belle - The most famous of the B-17s of the 8th Air Force is featured in a movie that's a bit overly sentimental and includes Harry Connick Jr. singing for some reason. It's on the list because I'm totally nuts for B-17s. HA: 7.0

Battle of the Bulge - This provides a passable history lesson about the Germans' last gasp in Europe, but I have a personal problem with the director's cavalier attitude for technical accuracy. They didn't even try to simulate Panzers or Tiger IIIs, using Walker Bulldogs (Korean era) for BOTH sides. HA: 6.5

These movies are of negligable historical accuracy but are all 10's on the cool scale and no kid could play army in my 'hood if they didn't know them well:

In Harm's Way - Drama, but it's got the frikken DUKE in it, man. The Navy wins, Kirk Douglas' tragically flawed character redeems himself and the Admiral gets the pretty Nurse.

Mister Roberts - Fictional, but worthwhile for the story as well as showing the typical navy life aboard the many non-combat USN vessels. I Lie-berried this book.

Kelly's Heroes - What do enterprising GIs do in Europe on a 3 day pass? Steal German gold, what else? Ya hockey puck! And it stars Clint Eastwood. Must I twist your arm? Hell, I've memorized it.

The Dirty Dozen - Watch this movie, if for no other reason, to be able to appreciate Tom Hanks' biting sarcasm during Sleepless in Seattle when the women are crying over An Affair to Remember - you'll understand the pathos of James Brown's character in the final sequence. As an added bonus, Telly Savalas and Donald Sutherland are also in Kelly's Heroes.

Ambush Bay - Total fiction, but they have a cool mission that involves blowing stuff up. Mickey Rooney's final scene with the pineapples is classic and well-suited to imitate. Unfortunately, you aren't likely to find it anywhere. If you run across a tape or DVD of it, you have to tell me.

The Secret Invasion - This hard-to-find flick is arguably what The Dirty Dozen could be called a remake of, except Lee Marvin isn't likely to have agreed to play Stewart Granger's character. Mickey Rooney co-stars and he plays with grenades in this one too. Again, if you run across a copy of it - tell me.

Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison - Another sentimental favorite of mine. Robert Mitchum is CPL Allison, USMC, lost on a tiny island somewhere in the Pacific with only Deborah Kerr to keep him company. Just his luck, some Japs show up and they have to cohabitate in a cave. Oh, and she's a nun. I liked the story so much I ran down the long-out-of-print book in the Lieberry.

There are a number of thinly-veiled chick flicks from back in the day, but they're set in the WWII period and are good family fare. If one needs basic history remediation, he might have to start with these:

Operation Petticoat - Cary Grant takes command of the worst sub in the Pacific - the Sea Tiger. Because they get nothing but hind-teat leftovers, they have to mix the only paint they can scrounge - white and red - to cover the rusty barnacles and become infamous as a Pink Submarine and rescue some hot nurses. The Beatles had nothing on these guys with that whole yellow thing.

Father Goose - Cary Grant again. He's gets volunteered as a coast watcher for the Australian Navy, collects a French schoolmarm and the gaggle of little girls in her charge. She pronounces him a "Filthy Beast" and hides his whiskey. She gets bit by a snake (they think). The worried girls give up the whiskey. She gets snot-slingin' drunk and says silly things. They fall in love and get marriaged over the radio while the Japanese strafe the island. My wife just loves it, so I got it for her one Christmas.

Kiss Them For Me - This one stars Jayne Mansfield. !!!  And Cary Grant, but he's hot for Suzy Parker. Navy officers on leave while their buddies fight on. They throw a big party in a San Francisco hotel. Hot wimmings everywhere, but their sense of duty prevails. It has Jayne Mansfield in it. She was way over the top, but somehow it worked for her.

There's a whole bunch left of the list, some because I haven't watched 'em 20 or 30 times like these, and some because - durn, it's already a long list. You need more? I'll come up with more.

21st Century Travel Game

Do you remember the lame games the old folks use to make you play when you went on long trips?

The "Find the 50 States" license plate game is way too complicated now with all the specialty plates the various DMVs have developed. "I got everything from Maryland except Hearing Impaired-Iwo-Jima Campaign-Terrapin-Retired!"

"I Spy" is the stupidest game ever devised. Politicians play a variation of that every election cycle.

"Road Sign Bingo" isn't too bad, but if you've finished the 2nd grade, it hasn't got much appeal.

The ever-popular "Punch/Pinch Your Sibling Until He/She Strikes Back and Play the Victim" will never fade away.

But there is a new game for the Post-Nuclear Generation: Name the DVD. This game requires the conspicuous consumption of others, namely that they have a DVD player in their car; it's playing a DVD; and they're burning more gas than you because they're in front of your car.

It's easy to play. Once the tiny screen is spotted, players squint and strain to see what's on it and the first person to correctly identify what it is gets 3 points. The first person who says "uh-uh it's 'The Goonies', dooty-head" gets hit by the driver's flailing arm.

The driver should not participate. I missed my exit because the SUV in front of me was playing a really cool vintage Popeye cartoon - the one where he beats up Bluto to save Olive Oyl.

Subway - Eat Neat or Else

I go to Subway for a sammich fairly regularly, not like Jared or Sherman and Herman, but mostly because it's close, a more sensible food choice than McChubby's and not terribly expensive.

Most of the time they overload it with the veggies, though occasionally I'll have to explain to the Sammich Construction Technician that they're not gonna hurt me by putting jalapeños on it. It's fun to see what all falls out and then enjoy a small dropout salad for afters - which entails getting one's fingers messy. I must say that the young lady who recently assumed the SCT duties at my regular spot is a bit tight with 'em, which brings me to my point:

Subway is the fast-food spot with, bar none, the STINGIEST napkin policy. They give you * a * napkin and shoot you the meanest look if you dare to ask for another - for any reason. They don't even have the little napkin dispensers that look like Coke machines with those worthless, tissue-thin generic napkins that most places have on the tables (where the idiots stuff 'em in backwards so they shred when you try to get 'em out).

The silly part is that these napkins are like a six-inch square hunk of ad space for Subway, with the logo and heart-healthy data on 'em. If they were sturdier, they could bulk mail 'em to "Occupant" and get a tax write-off.

It gets even sillier: you can have all the top-grade straws (each encased in its own logo-imprinted, hermetically sealed, protective cellophane wrapper) that you can stuff in your pockets, throw on the floor and pass out to various panhandlers you meet on the way back to work...

...but you can't wipe your greasy fingers on 'em.

I'm Glad I Know How to Quit You, Oscar!

This is me, not watching the Oxcars®©™.

There are a lot of reasons why I have no interest in them any more. It used to be fun to critique them afterwards, but they’re so pathetically introverted now that it’s no fun.

I was particularly unimpressed with all the pre-Oxcar®©™ hype on Ang Lee and his oh-so-avant-garde gay cow sheepboy movie, Bareback Mountie.

Fooey. Anglee had it easy. These days anybody can make a movie in any genre with overtly gay characters, and to the extent it causes a fuss, the fuss is free publicity.

Back in the old days, directors had to be real subtle with their closet caballeros and homo Hondos, but nobody gave Sergio Leone an Oxcar®©™ for the gay gunslingers in his spaghetti westerns. Leone hired Clint Eastwood, the most butch actor available, to camouflage the gay-romantic triangle, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly between the tragic Tuco (Eli Wallach) and his two lovers, Angel-Eyes (Lee van Cleef) and Blondie (Eastwood). Those in the know cried as Tuco discovers, too late, that Blondie has killed Angel Eyes out of vengeance and is abandoning him for his infidelity.

Eastwood continued to play repressed gays, notably in the campy musical, Paint Your Wagon, and as the dark, mysterious stranger in High Plains Drifter. How obvious could it be, what with him being so nice to the midget Mordecai and so anxious to play the overt hetero by raping Sarah Belding (the future Mrs. Vernon Wormer).

But Clint’s closeted capers weren’t confined to Westerns. He portrayed a queer WWII lieutenant, demoted to a private after being caught enflagrante dilecto , bent on revenge by bucking the Army and leading the more obviously gay, longhaired tanker Oddball and his fellow merry men to steal German gold in Kelley’s Heroes. His Dirty Harry series pushed the über-macho character to the limit as he sublimated forbidden desires by using his huge .44 magnum as a violent Freudian substitute. And in a few years when Hollywood has further lowered America’s mores, recall that Clint was ever at the forefront of loves-that-dare-not-speak-their-names with Every Which Way But Loose and his disgusting orangutan-love movies.

And what about John Ford? He took on the challenge of using the formidably macho John Wayne as his gaytagonist in dozens of movies. So often the code was a trusted sidekick like Victor McLaglen’s Sgt. Quincannon in She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (the film’s coded acronym is “SWAYR”) or a young upstart – or several young upstarts – as in The Cowboys (the film’s tagline: “The youngest was nine. There wasn't one of them over fifteen. At first, he couldn't stand the sight of them. At last, he couldn't take his eyes away.") Yeccch.

Wayne wasn’t the only one who used a “second-banana” to codify his latent-love in a long string of films – the venerable Roy Rogers and Andy Devine as “Cookie” and “Jingles”. Really, I’ll never go to Arby’s again.

The list goes on and on – Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (which won four Oxcars®©™ for, among other things, Best Music and Best Original Score); The Magnificent Seven (nominated for Best Music), Guadacanal Diary… even The Seven Year Itch – who else but a fairy’s gonna pass a chance with Marilyn Monroe?

No, Anglee is a poser who's merely gleaning low-hanging fruits where others have blazed the trail long before him.

[Crickets, My Left Foot!]