The Voice of Treason

I’m looking at the clock and it’s 10:10.

When you’re not on a work schedule, time sort of gets away from you. Like…what day is this, again? Because you don’t have to get up and go somewhere at a specific hour, you can stay up late, eating instant oatmeal and channel-surfing at three o’clock in the morning. And there are as many flavors of oatmeal now as there are channels these days.

Not a lot on other than infomercials in the middle of the night, so you find yourself watching leftist propaganda films on Free Speech TV. Or worse, watching old Ryan’s Hope reruns on SOAPnet. One night I was watching the show and it ended with Roger Coleridge in a dramatic scene with his two sisters, Jillian and Faith. Roger was in a baby blue knit V-neck and a pair of light slacks. The next episode aired immediately after the first and suddenly Roger was standing in the same spot, but wearing a sienna turtleneck and dark trousers.

Oh…it’s 11:11.

Anyway, I was starting to get annoyed at the graphics people on FNC because I was seeing so many errors and misspellings. There was a discussion of the new Mel Gibson movie and concern over the gore and violence in it. According to the graphics team, the film was “grizzly.”

But it’s not just FOX News. CNN interviewed Shimon “Perez” one night. And the weirdest incident was last week when I tuned into MSNBC and starting reading the news scroll at the bottom of the screen. A month has passed, yet they were running the scroll from election night. I couldn’t have been the only person to notice that. (Then again, considering MSNBC’s ratings, it’s possible.)

It’s 12:12.

The problem with not going to a job is that a person suddenly has time to notice things. For instance, when I was in college I was too busy to notice that my eyes had changed color. A college beau was waxing poetic about my green eyes and I was outraged that he didn’t know my eyes were blue. He pulled me to the bathroom mirror and asked me to take a good look. When did my eyes stop being blue?

Now I have even more time to notice the insignificant. My natural part has shifted and is on the other side of my head now. And I’ve been taller than my mother since elementary school, but lately I’ve noticed that either she’s shrinking faster than a wool sweater in a dryer or I’ve grown. I’ve been somewhere between five-six and five-six and a half forever. I asked T to measure me. How is it that I’m suddenly five-eight?

It’s 1:11.

Maybe it’s astronomical. We made a spontaneous decision over the weekend to put the dog in the car and drive to Bosque del Apache in the middle of the night to see thousands of migrating birds at sunrise. The planetary conjunction was in the news, so I figured we could look for Jupiter, Mercury, and Mars all clustered together while we were waiting for the sun to appear or for us to freeze to death - which ever came first.

I’d wanted to see the place ever since we moved here twelve years ago but we were always on a busy work schedule. And now I know what I’d been missing. Our dog enjoyed the trip, too, and even had a conversation with a coyote. (To clarify, I’m talking about those furry things that resemble dogs, not the things that smuggle illegals over the border for money.)

It’s 2:22.

I now have time to read the entire Sunday paper and study the op-ed page. To quote our former Defense Secretary: “My-y-y-y goodness.”

It’s 3:33. How come whenever I look at the clock it’s always when the same numbers line up? What causes that?

And if you read the op-ed page you find columnists who think it’s a good idea to support Obama for the oddest reasons. Not only is he black, but he’s white, too. He’s Muslim, he’s Christian - he’s two, two, two candidates in one! He’s just so multi-kulti!

But it gets stranger. Barack rhymes with Iraq. Obama rhymes with Osama. Hussein’s his middle name. Ooooooh! This is all very meaningful stuff. It’s…kismet. (I thought the Left was trying to convince us that their side is smarter. Uh, this isn’t the way to do it.)

My concern is that he’s getting a little too caught up in the infatuation. Is he smitten with himself, too? I mean, he’s younger than I am and has already written two books about himself. Gosh, whatever will he write about after his presidency?

If I hear he’s “Kennedy-esque” one more time, my head will explode. I don’t think anyone’s talking about Jack; no, I think they mean Bobby. But I shouldn’t be surprised. We’ve been stuck in 1968 for so long and reliving it because Boomers just can’t seem to let go of their glory days and face the reality of growing old. (Pssssssst! That’s you creaking!)

I was visiting that blog I often mention here and its author was describing his experience when he saw the new film, Bobby. He was reminiscing, quoting Kennedy, and recalling how the man had affected him throughout his life as a young Catholic growing up in a union family.

One person, “Old Enough To Know Better,” offered his opinion. Obviously, O.E.T.K.B. had misplaced his rose-colored spectacles.

“You wouldn’t remember Bobby before 1963, but oldsters know him as the ruthless opportunist he was.”

There was more. And the response?

“It’s kind of pointless to argue about Bobby Kennedy’s success or failure as a president, isn’t it?”

Pointless? No, pointless is calling George W. Bush the “worst president ever” when he hasn’t finished his term in office. Personally, I don’t see the problem with speculating about Bobby or his brother. Where is it written that we can’t speak honestly about the Kennedys?

Again, we’re muzzled. And that’s my discomfort with Obama. I already feel like we’re being set up here. But it’s ingenious. We can’t insult Obama because we’ll be offending whites, blacks, Muslims, Christians, and any other category they can fit him into.

It’s 4:44. Do you know there are websites that explain why this happens?

Anyway, I think it’s a good time to go out and get a job and immerse myself in the piddling politics of the workplace. Then I won’t have time to notice…the time.

See that? It’s 5:55.

“Shocking, ridiculous, and stupid” is what Tony Blair is saying about the Holocaust Denial Conference in Tehran. What a coincidence. That’s precisely what I’ve been saying about the ISG’s plan for us to talk to Iran and Syria and ask for their help with Iraq.

Those who want to deny the Holocaust and vow to wipe Israel off the planet assure us that they’re not anti-Semites. No, not at all, they say. We’re merely suggesting that the blood-sucking apes who stole our land should relocate…before we blow them off the face of the earth. See? We really are all for peace and justice.

Again I’m reminded of the little old lady from Louisiana who called C-SPAN to invite the Israelis to move to New Orleans. I posted several comments about that here on The V.O.T. and determined that it wasn’t a good idea because Nawlins would be so overcrowded after relocating seven million people (who don’t want to move, incidentally). And is Nawlins really a safer spot? Would we be doing the Israelis any favors?

Still, Mahmoud the Brownshirt insists that Israel should move to Europe or, better still, America. And, more and more, I’m hearing from people who agree with him. If we take historical and religious facts off the table and agree that yes, an entire country should pick up and move, we should ask: Are you just talking about the Jews who live there? Or do you want the Muslims, Christians, Druze, and everyone else who calls the place home to move, too?

And do we keep the infrastructure there? Will you take over the success in the desert that is Israel, or do you intend to raze it, destroying all those Jewish cooties? Just wondering.

The reason I ask is that we in America just happen to have some prime real estate here in the desert if Israel decides to move. When I moved here twelve years ago, I was happy to discover so many Jewish transplants from New York and Chicago. At last, I thought to myself, after so many years in California I will live in a place where Jews are Jews and I will have access to Jew food!

Yes and no. I’ve been disappointed that the transplants from back east - and this includes Italians, Poles, and others, as well - haven’t produced as many taste treats as I’d hoped for. Sure, there are plenty of restaurants and small stores in town that specialize in exotic foods (did I mention we have an Iraqi restaurant now?), but we just don’t have the type of delicatessen one would find on the other side of the Mississippi.

A couple Jewish deli/restaurants opened here and I was delighted; but they closed not long after they’d opened. It’s not like I want to go the local supermarket and pick up a box of stale crackers and a jar of gefilte fish. No, I want a real Jewish menu to choose from. And I can’t be the only one out there because I was just online a few minutes ago and discovered a blog belonging to a Jewish lawyer who lives in San Diego - he’s about my age - and he insists the world would be a better place if it could be just like the Jewish deli where he spent so much time as a kid in Chicago. Specifically, in Rogers Park where I grew up. And I know precisely the place he’s talking about because it was on Morse Avenue, a few doors down from the restaurant where my mother worked.

All I’m saying is: Who stole my kishke?

It’s just that there’s this interesting little secret about Nuevo Mexico. People wonder how an Italian name like Domenici is here. Easy one. Pete’s family was one of many Italian immigrant families who moved here to the desert. His father was a grocer. Our state’s Italian roots run deep. Similarly, this state has even deeper Jewish roots. Why, we have Crypto-Jews!

In tiny towns all over New Mexico - which is heavily Catholic - there are Hispanics whose families have been here for several hundred years. And their neighbors have noticed that they’re “different.”

Stanley Hordes, our new State Historian, asked for specifics. Soon he was hearing stories about people who were lighting candles on Friday nights, circumcising their sons, leaving pebbles on cemetery headstones, and abstaining from eating pork. Imagine - Nuevo Mexicans not eating carne adovada! Who were these weirdos?

Jews! That’s who! One theory is that back in early 1492, Jews in Spain were offered two choices: They could convert to Catholicism or they could leave the country. Some scattered; others stayed and pretended to convert, practicing their true religion in secret. Yet the Inquisition punished these pseudo Catholics, so it made sense for Jews to go someplace where they could exist under the radar, so to speak. The irony, though, of being secret Jews in the Southwest was that people were relatively safe to practice in private, but they couldn’t build temples or walk around with the Torah, and they were disconnected from other Jews and their culture. And being so immersed in Catholicism - eh, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

Yet many of the traditions continued and many of the people who were practicing these traditions weren’t even sure why they were doing it.

“I never felt whatever I was supposed to feel when I was Catholic,” says Sonya Loya who was raised Catholic but has always felt she had a “Jewish soul.”

“We’re already Jewish. We don’t have to become Jews. The spark within us, the Jewish people, cannot be extinguished.”

That coming from Bill Sanchez - a Catholic priest who wears a Star of David next to a crucifix, and keeps a menorah in his parish office in Albuquerque.

Articles and books have been written about this, yet even now there’s denial from academia. Some are skeptical. If these are Spanish Jews from the 1400s, how is it that some have adopted customs from non-Spanish Jews? How is it these ancient Jews would know about dreidels? Obviously these are pseudo Jews. They’re suffering from false memory syndrome and imagining they are Jews. The evidence doesn’t support the claim that they are Jews.

Oy! If these people want to be Jews, leave them alone! Can you prove that they’re not Jews?

I voiced my outrage to T:

“I say our NM Jews are Jews. They’re everywhere, because throughout history Jews were always having to pick up and move someplace else. Why couldn’t they have ended up here?”

“Are there Jews in Australia?”

“Of course there are Jews in Australia.”

“Then are they called didgerijews?”

Damned atheist humor. But again I digress. My point when I started this was to propose that Israel relocate to New Mexico. We have a fabulous climate, it’s still desert, and there’s plenty of room for seven million more people.

All I’m saying is that it took two Jewish gangsters from the Lower East Side to look at the barren wasteland in Nevada and say: “Hey - I can picture casinos, can’t you?”

My Hispanic friends brag about being able to trace their family roots in Nuevo Mexico back four or five hundred years. I tease them mercilessly: “Jeez, isn’t it about time you people consider assimilating?”

My city just celebrated its 300th birthday. No offense, but you’d think we’d have more to show for it. I mean, it took Albuquerque thirty years to build one bridge. Yet just look what the Jews have done with their patch of desert since Israelis declared independence in 1948! Oh, yes — please move here!

Bibi Netanyahu can be our leader and I can have good Jew food at last! I’ll work towards dual citizenship and convert to Judaism!

Ah, but the cool thing, you see, is that it wouldn’t be a requirement. Israel is a welcoming place. Ask the 30% of Israelis who aren’t Jewish. Just one more reason to do everything we can to keep this friendship strong.

And here we are, considering talking to people who want our friends annihilated. Hmm. With friends like us…

I keep hearing this. Why is that? As if an individual’s personal and professional lives are so disparate that integrity can only apply to one. That they are so dissimilar that it doesn’t matter how one conducts himself in one area as long as he maintains some sense of decorum in another. And this is why I have difficulty respecting so many Liberals.

“It was just sex!” (No, actually, it wasn’t just sex.)

“Was, too!” (There was that little matter of perjury -)

“Nuh-uh!” (And obstruction -)

“It was no big deal -” (Not to mention adultery -)

“You mean witchhunt!” (Excuse me, but it’s not your personal life when you’re getting personal in my house and on my carpet!)

Yes sir, that’s my White House and that’s my Oval Office. Drapes, desk, rug - all of it. The president is only visiting. What he does there during that visit is not personal. It’s public. He’s there to work.

My crankiness when this issue arises in conversation concerns the hypocrisy. It’s about fairness. How can you say what a candidate does in his personal life doesn’t matter and expect to be taken seriously when you think that rule only applies to your candidate? If George W. Bush cornered an intern and snapped her thong, then lied about it, I wouldn’t be saying that what he does in his personal life isn’t an issue. I don’t want any thong-snapping in the Oval Office - period.

If we expect our elected officials to start acting like adults, then we as voters had better start doing the same. (”I know you are, but what am I?”) We want them to be informed, so we had better start doing our own homework. (”I know you are, but what am I?”) We want them to work harder, be more honest, accomplish more, and act as role models. Well, then we’d better clean up our acts, too.

When someone says “George W. Bush,” resist the childish impulse to respond: “He’s a stupid idiot!” If you can do that, I promise that if you say “Ted Kennedy,” I won’t do a little dance and sing: “Chappaquiddick, cha-cha-cha!”

When I say “Cheney,” don’t shout “Hail, Satan!” If you can restrain yourself, I’ll let you say “Barack Obama” and I won’t roll my eyes and say: “Oh, yeah - the fifth Beatle.”

If you let me discuss the war without giving me a lecture on Imperialism, I’ll let you tell me about global warning. And when you mention Algore - I mean, Al Gore - I won’t start humming “I’ve got no strings to hold me down — to make me fret, or make me frown!”

Don’t call people I like Nazis. If you can behave, I promise that when you mention Bill Clinton I won’t scrunch up my face and say “Eeewww! He’s got those icky, girlie hands!”

If you’ll stop whining about the elections you think we stole, I’ll stop reminding you of all the ones you did steal.

Stop calling me a fascist, and I’ll stop calling you a commie. Stop accusing the administration of staging 9/11, and I’ll stop saying Vince Foster’s death wasn’t suicide. If you let the Christians have their nativity scenes, I’ll stop calling Muslims Islamofascists. Leave Wal-Mart alone and we promise we’ll never shop at Costco, ensuring you guys will have more access to parking. Now is that anything to sneeze at?

You may say I’m a dreamer. See, if I’m against banning words like “nigger,” then I’m certainly going to be against banning anything called “hate speech.” If we really want to be able to speak to one another without insults and slurs, then it has to be voluntary.

We don’t need new laws. And that goes back to what I’ve been saying here all along. Just behave. Can everyone just behave? Can we please have some sense of decorum here? Can we? If we can do that, the rest is easy.

But just be sure you keep your f*ckin’ paws off my talk radio, you @$$holes.

“…The American people know that it’s dangerous to blame ourselves for terrible problems that we did not cause.

– Jeane J. Kirkpatrick (Republican National Convention, August 20,1984)

How have we gone so off-track in such a short time? The answer? Those goddamned Boomers have been busy screwing up the world. I’m sitting here feeling like I’m reliving the sixties and seventies and things are so grim that I actually saw a glimmer of hope in all those articles about Nancy Pelosi and how much Armani she has in her closets. Could this be a sign that we’re getting ready to abandon this period of bohemianism and spitting in the faces of our military? Could we be moving towards the eighties?

If that’s the case, then we need another Reagan. To review, let’s take a gander at the current list of Republicans for 2008:

Official:
1. Duncan Hunter

Exploratory phase:
2. John McCain
3. Rudy Giuliani
4. Tommy Thompson
5. Mitt Romney
6. Sam Brownback
7. Newt Gingrich

Running whether we like it or not:
8. George Pataki

There’s been talk, but which party?:
9. Michael Bloomberg

And speculation:
10. Chuck Hagel
11. Mike Huckabee
12. Tom Tancredo

Please…not now and not another so soon:
13. George Allen

Won’t run if nominated, won’t serve if elected:
1. Richard B. Cheney

In the same boat:
2. Jeb Bush
3. Condi Rice

Jumpers:
4. Bill Frist

Where’s the Reagan here? First let’s separate the wheat from the chaff. Frist is out of the race, Cheney’s not even a possibility, and Jeb Bush knows the timing’s not right. Some are still thinking that Condi could show up on the ticket as VP. Tancredo, Thompson, and Hunter? Not happening. Hagel and Huckabee? Ditto. Allen and Pataki? Wrong first name. Bloomberg? Again, which party?

That leaves McCain, Giuliani, Romney, Brownback, and Newt. Sure, new faces can crop up between now and 2008, but for the moment these are the names in consideration. Now, no doubt Newt is sharp and has some great ideas. But he also carries a full set of Samsonite and people like Bob Tyrrell will come out against him in a big way.

Giuliani is popular but he carries a lot of baggage, too. Can he get the nomination? And how many times are we going to have to see him wearing a dress? Frankly, if Giuliani did get on the ticket I’d be down at the local GOP chapter ready to volunteer.

Both Giuliani and McCain are expressing their distaste with the ISG and that’s fine with me. McCain is out there now trying to convince Conservatives that he’s the next Reagan. He’s adamant about sending more troops to Iraq. See me? I’m a hawk!

My Democrat friends tell me he’s their favorite Republican. Swell. Polls show he can beat Hillary. But McCain has plenty of baggage of his own and, frankly, some of us just can’t get past the trust factor. I pray that I’m not put in the position of having to hold my nose and vote for him in ‘08.

Now, have the Republicans already thrown in the towel and do they intend to send in a sacrificial lamb? Okay, who’s the next Bob Dole? Who are they going to put out there to lose?

Brownback and Romney could be the only Conservative candidates out there, and right now no one except social conservatives are taking Brownback seriously. My top pick of the group has been Romney and I suspect the media smells trouble because they’re busy attacking him every day. I believe they have the scent of a real contender and they’re out for blood.

They say he’s a flip-flopper. Used to be pro-choice and used to be gay friendly. Well, Ronald Reagan used to be a Democrat. Next!

Running:
1. Tom Vilsack

In the exploratory phase…officially:
2. Joe Biden
3. Barack Obama

Hasn’t stopped running:
4. John Edwards

Being coy, but everyone knows they’re running:
5. Hillary and Bill
6. Bill Richardson

Starting to make noise:
7. Evan Bayh
8. Wesley Clark

Waiting to hear something from them:
9. Chris Dodd
10. Algore

Possible add-ons:
11. Howard Dean
12. Nancy Pelosi

They call the windsurfer ‘Pariah’:
13. John F. Kerry

In the pinko:
14. Dennis Kucinich

Jumpers:
1. Mark Warner
2. Russ Feingold
3. Tom Daschle

Okay, let’s take Warner, Feingold, and Daschle off the table. Let’s take Kerry off, too, while we’re at it. There was a bit of a flutter about Dean recently, but when the fairy dust settles even the Far Left will realize that no one wants to hear the scream again.

Will Kucinich and his Department of Peace float up to the top? Kucinich bumper stickers are still on cars here, so that wouldn’t be surprising. Still, it’s unlikely.

Edwards and Clark could show up as VPs - maybe Biden, too - but it’s doubtful. Dodd and Vilsack won’t catch on - there’s a charisma deficiency there. Pelosi will be told that she’s needed where she is, so that leaves Obama, Hillary, Bayh, Richardson, and Algore.

If Algore and his supporters are convinced that he won the presidency in 2000, why on earth would they want to risk losing in 2008? Keep the myth alive, Algore! Don’t run!

Bayh’s a contender and he’s the only white guy in the race. The Midwest has been turning blue, Iowa and Ohio are near Indiana, and he’s a Midwest boy. He gets points for experience, is attractive, has good hair, and doesn’t tote a lot of baggage. And on some issues, he’s more Republican than some Republicans. He shouldn’t be ruled out just yet. Unless, of course, the Dems think he really is a Republican.

That leaves Obama, Richardson, and Clinton. Or is it going to be President Rodham? Or Rodham-Clinton? Or will she do a Cher and just be President Hillary? Inquiring minds want to know.

Can we stop the media manipulation, please? Just stop trying to convince us that she might not run because that’s patently absurd. She is the 2008 nominee and that’s that. The question is this: Who’s her VP? Bayh? Probably not. Hillary’s a Midwest girl and a Cubs fan, right? Who need Bayh on the ticket? Wait…or is she a Southern homemaker from Arkansas? Don’t need to appeal to those “dumb” Southerners - they’re all Republicans now, anyway. No, wait — I think she’s a New Yorker and a Yankees supporter. Hmmm. I can’t recall.

Now that the media has created a competition between Obama and Hillary, they’ll make us think we actually want Hillary. The Far Left says they won’t support her and her evil hawkish ways. Yeah, right. If there’s no viable third party candidate, people will vote for her. Illegal ones, dead ones, Left ones. And they’ll vote twice. (Why? Cuz they’re voting for Bill.)

Already there are voices out there telling us we need an anti-war candidate. McCain is too hawkish, they say, and won’t be the nominee. Hillary will need to back away from the war, too. I’m not too concerned about the issue because all it will take is another terrorist attack on our soil to change the rules of the game. Suddenly Obama will sprout a beak and develop a taste for rodents.

Unless the fickle American voter gets tired of Obama between now and then, printers will be producing Clinton/Obama 2008 signs and stickers. It doesn’t matter if Obama isn’t black enough - the new “First Lady” will be. After all, Bill was the first black president. If Obama’s anti-war, Hillary can still act the hawk - we’ll call that a balanced ticket.

But black voters will vote for Hillary and Bill anyway - why do Dems need Obama? Sure, they still have their hearts set on a black president who really isn’t a white Southerner, but maybe they think they can get votes from exotic independents who appreciate that Obama’s middle name is “Hussein.”

But what about the Hispanics? Congress will work towards open borders and amnesty, so maybe that’s a big enough bone. So where does that leave Governor Bill? Sure, the last name is misleading, but voters will soon catch on when they see him on TV speaking Spanish and talking about Nuevo Mexico. Since most Americans aren’t aware that Nuevo Mexico is a state, they’ll think the rules changed and Richardson is from Tijuana, not Pasadena.

Two people who are aware that Nuevo Mexico is a state are planning to relocate here and assist our governor win his race to the White House: Valerie Plame and Joe Wilson. (Quick, call the realtor - we’re moving!) Happily, the Plame-Wilsons won’t be buying anything in our neighborhood, so I won’t have to worry about bumping into them at the mailbox.

But what about Bill? For a while I thought he had a good chance of sharing a ticket with Hillary because he might have some good dirt on the former co-presidents. The local paper printed a cartoon of Bill in front of the “2008 Love Meter” and “Read my lips, no New Mexicans” was one of the buttons on the machine. Clever, I thought.

But Bill’s out there making speeches about illegal immigration when few others are. Should the button actually say: “Read my lips, no new Mexicans?” Now that’s an entirely different message.

One that needs to be clarified by each candidate and soon.

“Only intellectual fashion and the tyranny of Right/Left thinking prevent intelligent men of good will from perceiving the facts that traditional authoritarian governments are less repressive than revolutionary autocracies, that they are more susceptible to liberalization, and that they are more compatible with U.S. interests. The evidence on all these points is clear enough.”

Woke up to depressing news this morning. Jeane Kirkpatrick has died.

Pearl Harbor? Yeah, there is that. But no, I’m talking about yesterday and the long-awaited release of the ISG report. You would have thought the Beatles were getting back together for a world tour. Brit Hume summed it up pretty well when he said someone would have thought it was Inauguration Day in D.C. So much brouhaha over so little.

Look, I admit I haven’t read the thing - and I don’t intend to, either - but what I can gather is that it’s an expensive waste of time and trees. I was skeptical from the start when they rolled out “the best and brightest” who would be putting this thing together. Two words came to mind: busy work.

(Bibi Netanyahu, where are you?)

If we want to hear from the best and brightest, we’re looking in all the wrong places. I caught a bit of an exchange between Stephen Breyer and Antonin Scalia this week about our Constitution, and if someone is looking for sharp, one needs to look no further than Justice Scalia. I adore that man. Why? Because he actually speaks, minces no words, and doesn’t care who he might offend. He lets the ideas speak for themselves and is willing to be derided for it.

My issue with this report is the same issue I had with the midterm elections. I documented it here when I noted Nibras Kazimi’s article, “What About the Druze?” I entitled that post: “Israel? Oh, I’m sorry - I didn’t recognize you.”

That’s when I lamented the fact that the Democrats weren’t talking much about our friends in the desert - and to be fair, where have the Republicans been on this, lately? I’ve mentioned here that I’m not particularly enthusiastic about chatting with Syria and Iran, yet from what I’ve heard from Baker and Hamilton, that’s the ticket. They admit nothing will come of it, but it’s something we should do, anyway. A case again of bad symbolism and no real substance.

And when Baker started talking about Syria and the Golan Heights, my blood ran cold. Are we getting ready to throw Israel under the bus?

The Blair/Bush press conference this morning offered some hope, but I’d still like some reassurances that we’ve got Israel’s back.

But none of this is really important. What’s important is that Britney’s flashing her crotch, Jessica Simpson can’t remember song lyrics, and - omigod! - other women showed up to a D.C. event wearing the same Reagan red Oscar de la Renta dress that Laura had chosen.

This is no fashion faux pas and this is no social crisis. If anyone knows anything about Laura Bush, this is a giggle. Technically, she did the classy thing and quickly changed gowns. A shame, really, because of the four, Laura looked best in the dress. (It’s clear its designer had a brunette in mind.)

I respect her decision, but I couldn’t help think that this was a missed opportunity. The First Lady is the ambassador of The Heart Truth - the organization that raises awareness about heart disease in women through its collection of dresses. Red ones worn by First Ladies. She’s even donated other de la Renta designs to this charity, so I can’t help think that she should have had an official photo snapped of her and the other women in that dress.

Lined up like The Supremes — autographed 8×10 glossies, posters, T-shirts, and totes all delivered to your door to spread the word and raise money for a good cause. It’s a dress that Laura will no doubt donate to The Heart Truth, and because the other three women probably wouldn’t want to be caught dead in the thing again, they could have auctioned them off to raise money for the organization. Why, I should be an overpaid political consultant!

And if I were, I’d tell George this: Be bold. Disregard the crap in that report. People are freezing to death in Missouri and Illinois. Couldn’t we gather up and burn the ISG reports to keep them warm?

Nigger. Ooops - I said it again. Damon Wayans said it sixteen times the other night at the Laugh Factory and was fined twenty bucks each time the word came out of his mouth. And now’s he isn’t allowed to come back for three months. Mr. Wayans, it appears, is in time-out.

Thanks to Michael Richards, I had to endure days of debate over something called the “N-word.” It was agonizing watching grown-up people who make a lot of money and have gone to prestigious universities discuss this N-word N-dlessly.

I felt like I was watching Romper Room. And I kept hearing Devo in my head. “ARE WE NOT MEN?” Seriously — are we not adults? You say a “bad” word and you have to put your lunch money on teacher’s desk. You say it again and you have to go sit in the corner. Say it one more time and it will go on your permanent record.

I made the decision a while back on The V.O.T. to stop referring to a segment of the population as African-American. Here, they are black. I suppose I could call myself an Italian-American because my mother’s family came from Abruzzo. Half my roots are Italian. (Ma, I know you say it’s north, but look at da map!)

And there are many things about my Italian heritage I’m fond of. Pizza! Giancarlo Giannini. Pizza! Vivaldi, Albinoni, Botticelli, Da Vinci, Caravaggio, Michelangelo, Mastroianni. Pizza!

But I was born in Chicago. (Oh, pizza!) So I’m not really Italian. If I’d been born in Rome, lived in Italy, then emigrated to the United States and had dual citizenship, then maybe I’d call myself an Italian-American. And if someone decided that the words “dago,” “wop,” “guinea,” or “goombah” should be banned, I’d do everything in my power to keep that from happening.

What if we banned the word “basically,” instead? Basically, the word is basically overused to the point where, basically, it has no meaning and basically no purpose other than to basically be annoying. Basically. Look, I don’t believe in banning books and books are full of words. We can’t start banning words. What’s offensive to me is probably not offensive to you, so let’s just stop this silliness right now.

Speaking of silly, New York is banning trans fat. Not only does the city want restaurants to stop cooking a certain way, they want menus to inform the customer about what’s in the food and how many calories lurk there. If I flew to Manhattan tomorrow, the first thing I’d do is go straight to 55th Street and Seventh Avenue to the Carnegie Deli and order a “Woody Allen.” (Oh - unless they changed the name of that sandwich because someone found it offensive. Does Mia Farrow eat there?) I might even order a slab of cheesecake to take back to the hotel with me. I don’t need to have the deli tell me how many calories I’ll be consuming. I already have a pretty good idea and I’ve made the decision to do it anyway. I’m taking full responsibility for my actions. Oh - and I’ll take a half dozen bagels, too, while I’m at it.

The Windy City is next on the hit list. Now the average Chicagoan will know how fattening his Italian beef sandwich is. My hope is that Chicagoans will not take this violation lying down. If I were there I’d walk into an Uno’s and ask for due.

In San Francisco, the California Milk Processor Board decided it would be a good idea to provide chocolate chip cookie scented bus shelters throughout the city. Smell a cookie and you’ll be reminded of a plate of somethin’ straight from the oven with a big cold glass of milk. How comforting is that?

Not very. It’s offensive to the homeless who cannot afford cookies and offensive to those who are lactose intolerant. And, no, I’m not making this up. No more cookie scented bus shelters. (After having spent a lot of time in the City By the Bay, the smell of cookies would be a welcome alternative. I really don’t think I’d mind a cookie scented BART station.)

It sort of reminds me of the kid who got into trouble recently for wearing a Hitler costume on Halloween. I supported the kid’s right to dress up as a genocidal megalomaniac — I mean, who’s scarier?

But what if he upsets the Jewish students? It’s just so insensitive. No, what’s more offensive is that the schools don’t make Memory of the Camps a requirement. Some things should not be forgotten. Similarly, six imams got on a plane and started praying to Allah. Uh, wasn’t that just a tad insensitive? But how do you measure something like that? How do you ban words?

And how do you enforce these laws? I love dogs more than anything in the world and I hate irresponsible pet owners. But my city has passed legislation that, as well intentioned as it may seem, doesn’t make a damned bit of difference. Government officials have the right to come into your home and make a judgment on your pet-parenting. If they feel you haven’t provided enough toys for Fido, you can be fined. No, I’m not making this up.

But this is good for us, you say. We shouldn’t be saying certain words and we shouldn’t be eating fattening foods. You should give your dog lots of toys even if the dog has never shown the slightest interest in any one of them and is content to chew on the cat. Why? Because it’s the right thing to do. We’re protecting people.

I’m sure the government of Iran felt that they were doing the right thing, too, when they cut off access to YouTube, Amazon, Wikipedia, and IMDB this week.

No, it’s not the zombie chickens in compost piles, and it’s not the stale air coming out of Gwyneth Paltrow. It’s the stench of a bad Monday funk hangover and the reeking Socialist sandwich this hemisphere has become. Got a slice of red bread above us and a slice of red bread below - and we’re getting squeezed like braunschweiger here in the middle.

The Redshirt in Venezuela is celebrating a landslide and no one suspects any irregularities. Where’s Jimmy Carter on this? (Oh, that’s right - he’s out pushing his new book.) Terrorists have been protesting in Lebanon all week, determined to finish off democracy in their neck of the cedar woods; protestors are out in front of the Supreme Court reminding me how putrid public education has become; Saddam Hussein might catch a break because of some weird age rule; and John Bolton is throwing in the towel.

The Left is busy eliminating people they don’t like and some hint that that’s a tad Stalinist. Why mince words? Why not call it Putinesque?

I endured a series of oddballisms yesterday, but there were too many strange happenings to document here so I’ll just narrow it down to one. I made a trip to the local Post Office. I knew it was a mistake, I knew I could pick up stamps at the grocery store, and I knew I could find the designs I wanted online. I noticed the Ben Franklin stamps were no longer available, but three other designs I liked were (Katherine Anne Porter, Judy Garland, and Ronald Reagan). Hey, if I’m paying thirty-nine cents for a first class stamp I want an appealing design.

Still, I was down to my last three stamps (the ones depicting characters from kiddie lit, like Wilbur in Charlotte’s Web) and I figured it would be nice to brave the Post Office and look at the latest designs in person. Mistake. There was a line that stretched from the counter to the far end of the building and it wasn’t moving. That’s normal. (Our little town has been experiencing some issues with postal service, but I won’t get into those at this point.) I also noticed that the section that displayed all the stamp designs was gone - replaced by automated shipping machines. I had two choices: leave or resort to buying stamps from the machine. I don’t carry much cash (I usually keep just enough for Salvation Army pots this time of year and for minor emergencies), but I looked inside my wallet and discovered I had enough for twenty self-adhesive stamps. I went with the “Crops of the Americas” design because I like sunflowers and peppers. And I had no real choice.

I got my stamps and got the hell out - but then I was stopped and interrogated by someone who identified himself as a reporter for the local paper. I didn’t bother to ask to see proof of this; instead, I answered all his questions about the current state of the USPS, shook his hand, wished him luck in there, then headed off to buy a roast.

I was up early this morning swilling thick Irish Breakfast tea and prepping my roast and vegetables, trying to avoid the Gates confirmation hearings. I endured Levin’s laundry list of everything that’s wrong with America, then realized that watching this was going to be a complete waste of my time and only be annoying.

I couldn’t help notice how many senators sitting there are running for president. Let the grandstanding begin. I watched Dr. Gates responding to a question: “Do you believe we’re winning the war in Iraq?”

He said no. Okay - this is over and it’s time for me to think about doing some yard work. That’s all they’re going to hear, and that’s all they’re going to report. Then he got another question - did he agree that we weren’t winning, but we weren’t losing, either? Yes, he agrees. We are not losing. But that isn’t what they want to hear, and that’s not what’s going to be reported. Minutes later, Evan Bayh was out of the room being interviewed and he mentioned the part about not winning. No mention of the part about not losing. My frustration is threefold: he didn’t get the facts straight, he was out interviewing instead of in the hearings, and he’s using the time to campaign.

But look at the people in that room. Without sounding too much like John Kerry, I used to be for term limits, then I was against them. And now I’ve changed my mind again.

You know, I hate to beat that poor dead horse, but we are at war; and it sure would be nice to have a Secretary of Defense. Can we sacrifice some face time and wrap this thing up?

I’m definitely feeling better today than I was yesterday, but I’m still a tad cranky after Bolton’s resignation. Without trying to sound like an old Thunderclap Newman song, there’s something in the air. This is not the time to pull someone of Bolton’s caliber out of action. Proof, to me, that the other side doesn’t give a damn about this country.

And speaking of that debacle - the United Nations - what’s up with that renovation? Why are they sinking so much money into that project and why are we getting stuck with such a huge chunk of the bill?

And why, after five years, are thousands of pieces of mail still being delivered to the World Trade Center? Would that explain some of the USPS issues? Ugh. Wouldn’t be surprised.

And now Gwyneth is denying that she said anything derogatory in that interview. I admit I thought Sliding Doors was charming, so I’ll cut her some slack. After all, it is possible she was misquoted. It’s even possible that she wasn’t interviewed at all. Fictitious news stories appear every day. For instance, people weren’t eating one another post-Katrina, were they? And what about that story on the Iraqis who were doused with kerosene and torched while Iraqi soldiers stood by, impotent, and watched? There’s been some indication that this report wasn’t quite accurate, either.

Chances are you’ll hear more about the Paltrow story being fallacious, but it’s unlikely you’ll hear much about that other story being set straight. All in all, a good day to be in the yard.

“We Americans are suckers for animals, often displaying greater empathy for them than for people. Be honest. In movie battle scenes, whose deaths bother you more - men’s or the horses’? Thought so.”

– Kathleen Parker, “The Elephant and the Embryo”

Parker’s article appeared in the op-ed section of yesterday’s Albuquerque Journal, which titled the piece: “You Can’t Ignore the Six-Ton Elephant in the Womb.” Clever. Parker asks: “When does an elephant become an elephant?” Hmmm. Could this column have anything to do with abortion?

It does raise some interesting questions. Parker’s article was inspired by the new National Geographic documentary, “In the Womb: Animals,” in which images captured with ultrasound show us a “baby” elephant, a “baby” dolphin, and a “baby” puppy in their mothers’ wombs. It’s clear, viewers will discover, that this Golden Retriever puppy is no clump of cells - why, that’s a real doggie in there!

Uh-oh. Whatever will we do if women start looking at these images of their own fetuses? Why, that’s a real person in there! And this is precisely the debate now in the pro-life/pro-choice arena.

If pro-lifers compare abortion to putting a fetus through a Cuisinart and no one shudders, picture a chicken instead. I know we eat the things, but there was a radio report last night about farmers turning birds who are past their egg-bearing years into compost. The report described birds emerging from the compost pile, dizzy from sedation, staggering around the barnyard like zombies. You see, they weren’t yet dead when they went into that pile. (ABC Radio actually plays horror film soundtrack during report - is this news or an opinion piece?)

This is abuse most foul. Not to worry, PETA is on the case. I recall Holocaust survivors telling stories of Jews shot and thrown into pits, then covered with earth; survivors of Saddam’s regime tell similar tales of bodies tossed into mass graves. When it’s revealed that human beings were sometimes buried alive, no one shudders - but the image of a chicken not fully euthanized pulling itself out of a heap of infertile old hens…well, it’s enough to curdle your cream.

I’m remembering the signs throughout Kansas on our road trip - “The American Holocaust!” If there are people who believe abortion clinics are modern day death camps, and that Planned Parenthood is systematically exterminating certain groups - blacks, in particular - then why aren’t pro-choice activists labeled racist?

I can’t help think that there’s a room full of ACLU lawyers as I type this, hunched over paperwork, preparing a case against the egg farmers, instead. PETA will address the animal cruelty issue; the ACLU will go after the industry for ageism. Someone call AARP - The American Association of Retired Pullets - and save these poor hens from the dung pile.

“I like living here, because I don’t fit into the bad side of American psychology. The British are much more intelligent and civilized than the Americans…I love the English lifestyle, it’s not as capitalistic as America. People don’t talk about work and money. They talk about interesting things at dinner.”

– Gwyneth Paltrow

It’s tempting - actually - to remind Mrs. Martin, expatriate and mother of Apple and Moses, that she, technically, is - actually - one of those stupid, uncivilized Americans. You know - those ignorant, loutish people who spend their capitalist dollars to see her in movies?

It’s just so sophisticated - actually - when an heiress disdains the family fortune. Money is just so tawdry, isn’t it? It must be something she learned at her exclusive private girls’ school. I’m certain it makes her feel better - actually - to give her wealth to so many Democratic causes. Those helpful, modest amounts she donates.

I cannot criticize Mrs. Martin for being smitten with her adopted homeland. After all, I, too, was once an anglophile. It started when my mother brought home our first Beatles records - Mum was a bit of an anglophile herself - and then it intensified when my brother started wearing collarless jackets and believing he was one of the Fab Four. I inherited most of his record collection and can’t recall any bands that weren’t British, actually. For a while he drove, when it wasn’t being repaired, a noisy racing green coloured MGC-GT, with wire wheels. So cute with that Union Jack sticker on the window.

Yes, I was an anglophile, and during that time - an exhausting period for my parents, actually - I had developed an odd habit of rolling my eyes and making a peculiar “tsk” sound after anyone said anything. The condition became so severe that I’d compulsively roll and “tsk” even if nothing was said. People just had to be present and breathing for me to respond this way.

This disorder persisted throughout my adolescence and into my late teens. My parents never sought professional help, so I never - actually - received any sort of treatment for the problem. I’d spent a lot of time - actually - around people who exhibited signs of the same malady during this period, and they recognised it in me and accepted it, so I didn’t feel that I stood out. I did, however, feel quite superior, actually.

Strangely, at university, where I was with so many others who seemed to roll and tsk - in great numbers, actually - I was exhibiting the behaviour somewhat less frequently. Time passed and after I’d been out of school and working for a while, the behaviour, without any explanation, stopped.

I sometimes think about this curious period in my life and I often wonder: Could I have been…could it be possible…was I…a Liberal? It’s hazy, but I do recall saying bizarre things to my sister like: “Actually, foreign films are so much better than American films!” And I think I even dragged her to a Ken Russell double feature. I remember interpreting dialogue in British films for those less fortunate who couldn’t understand what was being said. The skill just came naturally to me, actually. I just knew what they were saying and thought it so odd that others didn’t.

But enough about this strange episode in my life. What’s important now is that we must ensure the Conservative Party doesn’t gain ground in upcoming elections…over there. We certainly wouldn’t want Mrs. Martin changing her mind about her new friends and relocating over here, now would we?