From A Painting a Day, a "paintingblog" by Duane Keiser.Yes, there's a new one every day. The site is worth a visit.
Since 1985, in various formats, SLANT -- an independent voice based in the heart of Richmond, Virginia -- has offered its readers original commentary on politics and popular culture. Warning: Occasionally, that means wiseass cartoons and satirical content. Naturally, all rights are reserved.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
a paintingblog
From A Painting a Day, a "paintingblog" by Duane Keiser.Yes, there's a new one every day. The site is worth a visit.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Conscientious Objecting Pharmacists?
Cartoonist/OpEd writer Ted Rall takes a look at the front line of what he calls "the war over our genitals."
"When a soldier refuses an order to shoot someone, it's virtually impossible to obtain 'conscientious objector' status. A soldier who refuses to kill faces a court martial and possible prison sentence. But when a pharmacist refuses to dispense a drug that would prevent a woman from becoming pregnant with her rapist's child, he's merely 'following his principles' -- and enjoys the support of his state legislature. Luke Vander Bleek, an Illinois pharmacist who says his Catholic faith led him to fight an Illinois rule that requires him to fill all prescriptions, including those for birth control, says: 'I've always stopped short of dispensing any sort of product that I think endangers human life or puts the human embryo at risk.'"
Monday, December 12, 2005
Detached
"Detached" is the title under which I've written a series of short stories. The art to the right was scanned from a color copy of art I did in 1995, developing a cover-art idea for the collection, which I was almost sure was being finished up then at nine stories.At this point, a whole decade later, four stories are completed. Alas, there are another dozen, or so, in vaious stages of completion. Of them I'm guessing now, perhaps three, five at the most, will actually be finished, one day. Approaching the end of 2005, one day still seems off in the distance to the author. Let's call it a work-in progress.
So, for the time being here are links to the four that I've sworn never to rewrite, again -- all featuring Roscoe Swift as the protagonist, set between 1966 and 1985 -- which are now available online for your reading pleasure. The stories examine splinters of time, which stand out as important to Roscoe -- including: a train trip to boot camp; chasing away a hangover in a '70s saloon, J. W. Rayle; near-love and other out-of-town illusions; a battle of raging anxiety vs. sparks of dignity. They are:
Central Time
Cross-eyed Mona
Fancy Melons
Maybe Rosebud
Saturday, December 10, 2005
What It Is...
by F. T. Rea
On a cold January morning, 15 years ago, bright sunlight lit up the thin coating of freezing rain that had painted the city the evening before. In the crisp air a slender middle-aged man, a freelance artist/writer, walked at a careful but purposeful pace on the tricky sidewalk. The ice-clad trees along the street were dazzling, as seen through his trusty Ray-Bans. The wooly winter jacket his girlfriend/roommate had given him for Christmas felt good.
Since the freelancer couldn’t concentrate on his reading of the morning’s Richmond Times-Dispatch, he left half a mug of black coffee and a dozing cat on his desk to walk to the post office. He hoped the overdue check from a magazine publisher was waiting in his post office box.
Anxiously, he opened the box with his key. It was empty. He shrugged; an empty box had its upside -- there were no cut-off notices in it. With his last 20 bucks in his pocket, the freelancer hummed a favorite Fats Domino tune, “Ain’t That a Shame,” as he headed home.
By the end of the workday the freelancer's mission was to finish an 800-word OpEd piece, with an accompanying illustration, and drop it all off on an editor’s desk. With the drum beat for war in the air he wanted to focus on the inevitable unintended consequences of any war. Yet, with the clock ticking on his deadline he was still at a loss for an angle.
In 1991 the country was mired in an economic recession. The national debt was skyrocketing. War with Iraq was looming, it seemed all but inevitable. Pondering what demons might be spawned by an all-out war in Iraq, to be discovered down the road, he detoured a couple of blocks to pick up a Washington Post and a fresh cup of coffee.
On a cold January morning, 15 years ago, bright sunlight lit up the thin coating of freezing rain that had painted the city the evening before. In the crisp air a slender middle-aged man, a freelance artist/writer, walked at a careful but purposeful pace on the tricky sidewalk. The ice-clad trees along the street were dazzling, as seen through his trusty Ray-Bans. The wooly winter jacket his girlfriend/roommate had given him for Christmas felt good.
Since the freelancer couldn’t concentrate on his reading of the morning’s Richmond Times-Dispatch, he left half a mug of black coffee and a dozing cat on his desk to walk to the post office. He hoped the overdue check from a magazine publisher was waiting in his post office box.
Anxiously, he opened the box with his key. It was empty. He shrugged; an empty box had its upside -- there were no cut-off notices in it. With his last 20 bucks in his pocket, the freelancer hummed a favorite Fats Domino tune, “Ain’t That a Shame,” as he headed home.
By the end of the workday the freelancer's mission was to finish an 800-word OpEd piece, with an accompanying illustration, and drop it all off on an editor’s desk. With the drum beat for war in the air he wanted to focus on the inevitable unintended consequences of any war. Yet, with the clock ticking on his deadline he was still at a loss for an angle.
In 1991 the country was mired in an economic recession. The national debt was skyrocketing. War with Iraq was looming, it seemed all but inevitable. Pondering what demons might be spawned by an all-out war in Iraq, to be discovered down the road, he detoured a couple of blocks to pick up a Washington Post and a fresh cup of coffee.
Approaching the 7-Eleven store the freelancer noticed a lone panhandler standing off to the left of the front doors. The tall man was thin and frail. He wore a lightweight denim jacket with a hooded sweatshirt underneath. Snot was frozen in his mustache. His heavy-lidded eyes were terribly red.
During a time when a much younger version of the freelancer had run a night life business in which he dealt with the public, he had determined his policy should be to never in any way encourage panhandlers to hang around. The rigid policy -- never a nickel -- had lingered well after the comfortable job was gone.
On this cold day it wasn’t easy for the freelancer to avert his eye from the poor soul’s trembling outstretched hand. Not hearing the desperate man’s hoarse plea for food money was impossible.
When there are always so many lives to be saved in our midst, why do we have to go to the Middle East to save lives, the freelancer wondered?
Inside the busy store the freelancer poured a large coffee. Fretting profusely, he snapped the cup’s lid in place. It was one of those times when the little freelancer with horns was standing on one of his shoulders, while his opposite, the one with the halo, was on the other, both offering counsel.
The freelancer's policy caved in seconds later. Still, he decided to give the panhandler food, rather than hand over cash to perhaps finance a bottle of sweet wine. What the hell? it might change my luck, he thought as he smiled.
Trying to max out the bang-for-the-buck aspect of his gesture, the freelancer settled on a king-sized hot dog, with plenty of free stuff on it -- mustard, chopped onions, relish, jalapeno peppers, chili and some gooey cheese-like product. Not wanting to push it too far, he passed on the catsup and mayonnaise.
Outside the store, the freelancer found the starving panhandler had vanished. The crestfallen philanthropist took the paid-for meal-on-a-bun with him, as he walked softly singing a Buffalo Springfield song, “For What It’s Worth.” His strides with the beat, he kept to the street to avoid the slick sidewalk in the shade.
There’s somethin’ happening here,
What it is ain’t exactly clear.
There’s a man with a gun over there,
Tellin’ me I gotta beware.
I think it’s time we stop, children, what's that sound,
Everybody look, what's going down.
It wasn’t long before the heartburn started. Eventually, it got brutal. The freelancer pressed on. He wrote about the way propaganda always works to sell every war as glorious and essential to the everyday people, who risk their lives. That while the wealthy, who rarely take a genuine risk on anything, urge the patriots on and count their profits. He lamented the popular culture having gone wrong, so there was no longer a place for anti-war protest songs.
He wrote, “Where are today’s non-conformists? Nowhere. Conformity? It’s no longer an issue.”
The freelancers sour/noisy stomach finally calmed down during his second happy hour beer, after turning in his work in at 4:55 p.m., once again, in the nick of time. When he told the tale of the "stuffed hot dog" and the belly ache, he made it seem funny to those around the elbow of the marble bar, "Hey, make sure to leave off the catsup and mayonnaise."
In his element, the freelancer’s audience of familiar faces laughed/groaned on cue when he finished off with, “Oh well, a panhandler, some paranoia, some heartburn, another deadline met. What can I say? -- it was all for what it’s worth.”
During a time when a much younger version of the freelancer had run a night life business in which he dealt with the public, he had determined his policy should be to never in any way encourage panhandlers to hang around. The rigid policy -- never a nickel -- had lingered well after the comfortable job was gone.
On this cold day it wasn’t easy for the freelancer to avert his eye from the poor soul’s trembling outstretched hand. Not hearing the desperate man’s hoarse plea for food money was impossible.
When there are always so many lives to be saved in our midst, why do we have to go to the Middle East to save lives, the freelancer wondered?
Inside the busy store the freelancer poured a large coffee. Fretting profusely, he snapped the cup’s lid in place. It was one of those times when the little freelancer with horns was standing on one of his shoulders, while his opposite, the one with the halo, was on the other, both offering counsel.
The freelancer's policy caved in seconds later. Still, he decided to give the panhandler food, rather than hand over cash to perhaps finance a bottle of sweet wine. What the hell? it might change my luck, he thought as he smiled.
Trying to max out the bang-for-the-buck aspect of his gesture, the freelancer settled on a king-sized hot dog, with plenty of free stuff on it -- mustard, chopped onions, relish, jalapeno peppers, chili and some gooey cheese-like product. Not wanting to push it too far, he passed on the catsup and mayonnaise.
Outside the store, the freelancer found the starving panhandler had vanished. The crestfallen philanthropist took the paid-for meal-on-a-bun with him, as he walked softly singing a Buffalo Springfield song, “For What It’s Worth.” His strides with the beat, he kept to the street to avoid the slick sidewalk in the shade.
There’s somethin’ happening here,
What it is ain’t exactly clear.
There’s a man with a gun over there,
Tellin’ me I gotta beware.
I think it’s time we stop, children, what's that sound,
Everybody look, what's going down.
A line from that song’s last verse -- paranoia strikes deep -- suddenly snapped into place. He had an idea and he stepped up the pace. Back in his office/studio space, rather than waste money he tore into the buck-banging feast he had prepared for a beggar. Offended by its sight or smell the cat fled. Between sloppy bites the artist sketched furiously to rough out a cartoon.
It wasn’t long before the heartburn started. Eventually, it got brutal. The freelancer pressed on. He wrote about the way propaganda always works to sell every war as glorious and essential to the everyday people, who risk their lives. That while the wealthy, who rarely take a genuine risk on anything, urge the patriots on and count their profits. He lamented the popular culture having gone wrong, so there was no longer a place for anti-war protest songs.
He wrote, “Where are today’s non-conformists? Nowhere. Conformity? It’s no longer an issue.”
The freelancers sour/noisy stomach finally calmed down during his second happy hour beer, after turning in his work in at 4:55 p.m., once again, in the nick of time. When he told the tale of the "stuffed hot dog" and the belly ache, he made it seem funny to those around the elbow of the marble bar, "Hey, make sure to leave off the catsup and mayonnaise."
In his element, the freelancer’s audience of familiar faces laughed/groaned on cue when he finished off with, “Oh well, a panhandler, some paranoia, some heartburn, another deadline met. What can I say? -- it was all for what it’s worth.”
-- 30 --
Friday, December 09, 2005
Historians: Bush the Worst President -- Ever?
Urbane columnist Richard Reeves is still taking the long view -- in this case, President James Buchanan vs. President George W. Bush -- and making sense of political events that come packaged in fog:
"...Buchanan, the 15th president, is generally considered the worst president in history. Ironically, the Pennsylvania Democrat, elected in 1856, was one of the most qualified of the 43 men who have served in the highest office.
"...This is what those historians said about the Bush record:
- He has taken the country into an unwinnable war and alienated friend and foe alike in the process;
- He is bankrupting the country with a combination of aggressive military spending and reduced taxation of the rich;
- He has deliberately and dangerously attacked separation of church and state;
- He has repeatedly "misled," to use a kind word, the American people on affairs domestic and foreign;
- He has proved to be incompetent in affairs domestic (New Orleans) and foreign (Iraq and the battle against al-Qaida);
- He has sacrificed American employment (including the toleration of pension and benefit elimination) to increase overall productivity;
- He is ignorantly hostile to science and technological progress;
- He has tolerated or ignored one of the republic's oldest problems, corporate cheating in supplying the military in wartime."
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Peace, Chance and Wonder
by F. T. Rea
John LennonIn February of 1964 the Beatles made their initial appearances on the Ed Sullivan Show. At the time most of us Baby Boomers probably didn’t connect the events, but those two appearances were only three months after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. Surely, the somber mood of the nation following the jolts -- Bang! Kennedy. Bang! Oswald. -- had something to do with why those early Beatles recordings cut through the heavy airwaves with such verve. There has been no explosion in the American pop music scene since with anything near the equivalent impact of Liverpool’s Fab Four.
Then, in 1980, the murder of moody John Lennon had an impact on the public few would have predicted. It was as if a world leader had been gunned down on the street in Manhattan.
Lennon’s obvious contributions as a songwriter and musician were huge. However, it was the working class hero’s tart integrity and delight in taking risks that set him apart from his teen idol counterparts, many of whom toyed with politics and social causes as if they were merely hairdos or dance crazes.
With the Vietnam War still underway in the early ‘70s, President Richard Nixon looked at Lennon and saw the raw power to galvanize a generation’s anti-establishment sentiments. Fearful of that potential, the Nixon administration did everything it could to hound Lennon out of the country. The details of that nasty little campaign are just as bewildering as some of the better known abuses that flowed from the Dirty Tricks Department in the White House during those scandal-ridden days.
With two-and-a-half decades of perspective on Lennon’s death, it’s possible to see that even if that particular nut-case (a man I choose not to name because I refuse to add in any way to his celebrity) hadn’t pulled the trigger, it could easily have been another one; there were bullets out there with John Lennon’s name on them. Like the comets of each generation are bound to do, sometimes Lennon burned too bright for his own good.
And speaking of assassins, at this time I’m also reminded of an item that ran in the Nashville Banner on Feb. 24, 1987. The article began with this: “Two Nashville musicians remained free on $500 bond today after they went on a magazine-shredding tear …to protest People magazine’s current cover story.”
The two musicians were Gregg Wetzel, and Mike McAdam. As members of the Good Humor Band they were fixtures in Richmond’s Rock ‘n’ Roll scene in the early ‘80s. By the time the story mentioned above was published, the pair had established themselves as respected sidemen in Nashville -- Wetzel on piano and McAdam on guitar.
In a nutshell, Gregg and Mike became incensed at seeing the magazine with a cover story about John Lennon’s murderer. They felt spotlighting the killer in that way might encourage another deranged wannabe to take gun in hand to go after whoever. So they fortified themselves with an adequate dose of what-it-takes -- legend has it they were drinking out of an Elvis decanter -- and set out on a mission to destroy the cover of every copy of the offensive publication they could find on the strip. As the reader may know, this sort of endeavor is best done in the wee hours.
In the course of their fifth stop, at a Nashville convenience store, the avenging angels were stopped by the cops and charged with “malicious mischief.” Shortly afterwards, in a interview about the incident, McAdam said, “If another guy like [name withheld again] sees that, he might think he can get on the cover of People magazine by killing a politician or artist.”
Bravo!
Primary among the reasons John Lennon was selected for the kill by his stalking murderer was he had a rare ability to move people. In that sense, Lennon was slain for the same reason as political figures such as Martin Luther King and Robert F. Kennedy. Two thousand years ago Jesus H. Christ was taken out of the game for much the same reason: He challenged people to change; to take a chance on a life based on something better than might making right.
Although Nixon miscalculated Lennon’s intentions, the soon-to-be-disgraced president was probably right about the former Beatle’s potential to focus the anti-establishment sentiments in the air. What Nixon didn’t grasp was that Lennon -- in spite of his mischievous streak -- was really more interested in promoting peace than fomenting revolution.
Among other memorable song lyrics John Lennon penned, this familiar line seems particularly appropriate in 2005, a year limping to the finish line: “All we are saying is give peace a chance.”
During the upcoming holiday season, with its short days and extra splash of bright lights, the birth of the world’s best-known martyr -- a working class hero himself -- is celebrated by Christians. But to escape the wall of corny Christmas music on the radio, I’m going to put a cd of Lennon’s greatest hits on the Bose (courtesy of my brother) and listen to No. 9 Dream.
Some of those post-Beatles cuts still seem fresh, experimental. Now, well into stranger days, indeed, chance we wonder what Lennon might have dreamed and written if he had lived to be 65? Imagine...
Peace.
-- 30 --
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Cheeky Chickenhawk
Well, well, well... After Rush Limbaugh weighed in (see post below) on the ongoing hostage crisis in Iraq, which has Virginian Tom Fox (a Marine Corps veteran and now a peace activist) facing execution tomorrow at the hands of his captors, I searched the Internet for a transcript of Limbaugh’s remarks. At Limbaugh's web site I found I’d have to join up to see much more than his ads. I had wanted to quote him but joining his blithering Dittoheads was out of the question. However, some of what I did find along the way was quite funny. As I mentioned in the post below, ordinarily I don’t pay much attention to Limbaugh. So, I hadn’t read/heard anything about his infamous and useful cyst.Moreover, I didn’t realize that Limbaugh was not only one of the most prominent “chickenhawks” on the horizon, these days, but it seems he got his draft deferment for a cyst on his keister.
This is off the charts. Is it possible that a smarmy radio personality who talks like John Wayne and walks like Pee-Wee Herman once beat the draft with a stubborn pimple? By the way, Wayne was another guy who never served in uniform and made a good living striking the pose of tough guy, while pointing his patriotic finger at war protestors.
OK, maybe the cyst story is an urban legend. I don't know. I got tired of reading about Bad-Ass Rush's various medical problems, then and now. But if it’s true, I have to say that I can remember more than a few guys who would have loved to have known it was possible to avoid the draft during the Vietnam War, owing to such a trivial problem.
To read more about prominent chickenhawks, in general, and Limbaugh’s silly deferment click here. Then maybe you’ll find it easier to understand how Katherine Fox, Tom Fox’s daughter, could shrug off anything at all the likes of a Rush "Cheeky Chickenhawk" Limbaugh had to say about her father’s plight.
Limbaugh: Beyond the Pale
As I watched hostage Tom Fox's brave daughter on ABC's Nightline, shrugging off the obstreperous and shameless Rush Limbaugh's remarks about her father's ordeal, I was amazed at her calm. Usually I can laugh off Limbaugh's blather. But, in truth, I've been ignoring him so long, and so thoroughly, that I had forgotten what a sick cat he is. This time -- seeing Fox as a liberal getting wised up -- he was beyond the pale.
This is the only story I've found about it so far. It doesn't focus on Limbaugh much. Read it and see what you think. If I find another article with more detail I'll add a link to it later.
This is the only story I've found about it so far. It doesn't focus on Limbaugh much. Read it and see what you think. If I find another article with more detail I'll add a link to it later.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
The Shame Game
Occasionally, I read the editorial page's letters to the editor in the Richmond Times-Dispatch; here are excepts of one that made me laugh, written by Sandro Sartori, which caught my eye this morning.
We should be ashamed!
One step beyond the blowhard accusations and threadbare denials that have been coming out of the Bush administration lately, to do with launching its war in Iraq, the letter-writer's creative approach to explaining away the administration's deliberate pickling of the pre-war "intelligence" may well be a preview of what's coming soon from Cheney, Rice, et al.
Wouldn't you get a laugh out of hearing Uncle Dick say we should be ashamed for making our poor president lie to us? Thirty years ago TV comedian Flip Wilson had a signature line that best summed up the same sort of thinking. Flip would roll his eyes and say, "The devil made me do it."
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Miss Buns Locks Up
Sheriff Michelle B. Mitchell has summarily barred the new sheriff-elect, C. T. Woody, from Richmond’s jail -- a facility she will continue to oversee for the rest of her third four-year term in office. Woody, who defeated Mitchell in the citywide election last month, takes over Jan. 1, 2006.The Richmond Times-Dispatch reports Mitchell has also locked out the panel Mayor Doug Wilder appointed to study the dilapidated jail’s operation and needs. Wilder’s panel was created in June after faulty locks in the 40-year-old jailhouse enabled an inmate to leave his cell, enter another inmate’s cell and beat him to death.
During the acrimonious campaign season the Mitchell and Woody camps made news with their hardnosed tactics. Then in October, when word got out the State Board of Elections web site had Mitchell’s email address listed as MissBuns@aol.com, she became a celebrity on Dave Barry’s blog. For her part, Mitchell had no comment.
Here’s a heads-up to the grocery store national tabloids -- Mitchell is not only good copy, she’s a knockout in the looks department (the photo above from the Virginia Sheriffs web site really doesn't do her justice). In a fancy dress at a cocktail party, believe me, she steals the show.
I don’t claim to know what is going on here, but for some reason a 42-year-old woman who appeared to have bright future seems to be burning her bridges with reckless abandon. So, is Miss Buns just a sore loser? Or, does Mitchell have some good, or bad, reasons for not wanting certain people with legitimate business at the jail to come inside? Or, what?
Once again, she won’t say. No comment.
Meanwhile, Mitchell's loyal top deputy, Lt. Col. Alan E. Roehm, says there will be "no transition."
How long will Mayor Wilder put up with this situation? Stay tuned, this story is bound to get much more interesting soon.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Bizarro Richmond
Oh well, just another chilly Friday afternoon with less daylight than the last. Not much to comment on in today’s local news, unless, of course, one finds three stories in the Richmond Times-Dispatch to be rather bizarre. The headlines read: School Board Chair Admits Web Post; Sheriff-Elect Barred from Jail; Richmond Man First Convicted Under Expanded Child-Porn Law [to face 1,000 years in prison].
Tired of reading about the complicated performing arts center flap? OK. Try these stories for something a little different:
“Richmond School Board Chairman Stephen B. Johnson last night admitted posting a bare-chested photo of himself on an explicit male-dating Internet site. "It was stupid," Johnson said, explaining that the photo had been on the site for a "couple of days." Johnson's photo on Manhunt.net was not explicit in nature, but the text describing him was very graphic.”
Stupid? No, Mr. Johnson, this is beyond "stupid." It is way too silly to just be stupid. Read the rest of the story here.
“C.T. Woody defeated incumbent Sheriff Michelle B. Mitchell last month. While most folks can't wait to get out of their cells in the crowded and crumbling jail, Sheriff-elect C.T. Woody is having a hard time getting in the front door. In the four weeks since his upset victory over three-term incumbent Sheriff Michelle B. Mitchell, Woody says he has yet to be allowed into the facility.”
What in the world is Mitchell doing here? If she doesn't explain away what's going on soon, she's asking for nothing but trouble. To read this head-scratcher click here.
“A 53-year-old Richmond man yesterday became the first person convicted under a 2003 federal statute that makes obscene cartoon drawings as well as photographs an illegal form of child pornography. Dwight Whorley could be sentenced to more than 1,000 years in prison because a jury found him guilty of 74 counts of child pornography charges in U.S. District Court. Those counts include the obscene cartoons and charges of sending and receiving obscene e-mails describing sexual abuse of children.”
Nobody is defending child porn, but if a cartoon can be child porn, what about literature? Is "Lolita" child porn? Hey, even the Bible has racy stories that involve incest. How about an abstract painting with a title that suggests underage sex? How about a song about it? -- Chuck Berry's "Sweet Little Sixteen." To find out how a man can get incarcerated for over 1,000 years for possessing cartoons click here.
Tired of reading about the complicated performing arts center flap? OK. Try these stories for something a little different:
“Richmond School Board Chairman Stephen B. Johnson last night admitted posting a bare-chested photo of himself on an explicit male-dating Internet site. "It was stupid," Johnson said, explaining that the photo had been on the site for a "couple of days." Johnson's photo on Manhunt.net was not explicit in nature, but the text describing him was very graphic.”
Stupid? No, Mr. Johnson, this is beyond "stupid." It is way too silly to just be stupid. Read the rest of the story here.
“C.T. Woody defeated incumbent Sheriff Michelle B. Mitchell last month. While most folks can't wait to get out of their cells in the crowded and crumbling jail, Sheriff-elect C.T. Woody is having a hard time getting in the front door. In the four weeks since his upset victory over three-term incumbent Sheriff Michelle B. Mitchell, Woody says he has yet to be allowed into the facility.”
What in the world is Mitchell doing here? If she doesn't explain away what's going on soon, she's asking for nothing but trouble. To read this head-scratcher click here.
“A 53-year-old Richmond man yesterday became the first person convicted under a 2003 federal statute that makes obscene cartoon drawings as well as photographs an illegal form of child pornography. Dwight Whorley could be sentenced to more than 1,000 years in prison because a jury found him guilty of 74 counts of child pornography charges in U.S. District Court. Those counts include the obscene cartoons and charges of sending and receiving obscene e-mails describing sexual abuse of children.”
Nobody is defending child porn, but if a cartoon can be child porn, what about literature? Is "Lolita" child porn? Hey, even the Bible has racy stories that involve incest. How about an abstract painting with a title that suggests underage sex? How about a song about it? -- Chuck Berry's "Sweet Little Sixteen." To find out how a man can get incarcerated for over 1,000 years for possessing cartoons click here.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Democratic Victories Amid Presidential Weakness
Zogby International's analysis of the Virginia gubernatorial election is worth a read:
"...Democrat Tim Kaine campaigned the final days before the Nov. 8 election with popular out-going Gov. Mark Warner, and his victory in the race squares with Zogby polling data that shows Warner helped win more votes for his fellow Democrat. Republican candidate Jerry Kilgore was not so lucky. Accepting a White House offer of presidential help stumping at the last minute, the Zogby poll shows President Bush’s appearance in Richmond the day before the election may have hurt more than it helped. Asked whether the Bush appearance made them more or less likely to support Mr. Kilgore, just 10% said more likely, while 21% said it made them less likely."
Polly's Swoopy Bits
Prolific political blogger Waldo Jaquith penned a short piece, "Polly Wants a Carjacker," about a mysterious parrot. It made me smile. Here's a tidbit:
"...What made this parrot noteworthy was its remarkable cry. Every fifteen minutes or so, it would, without warning, let out a sixty-second-long series of oddly-familiar screeches and amelodic tones. ...Then there were a series of eight descending swoopy bits, two longer ascending swoops, and then a solid twenty seconds of staccato tones to wrap things up."
Click here to find out what was up with Polly.
"...What made this parrot noteworthy was its remarkable cry. Every fifteen minutes or so, it would, without warning, let out a sixty-second-long series of oddly-familiar screeches and amelodic tones. ...Then there were a series of eight descending swoopy bits, two longer ascending swoops, and then a solid twenty seconds of staccato tones to wrap things up."
Click here to find out what was up with Polly.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Good Move, Gov. Warner
In its afternoon update for Tuesday the Richmond Times-Dispatch reported: "Gov. Mark R. Warner said this morning the clemency petition from death row inmate Robin Lovitt has been the most difficult he has considered. Warner has let all 11 prior executions during his administration proceed."
Then later in the evening came this from the Associated Press: "Virginia's governor on Tuesday spared the life of a convicted killer who would have been the 1,000th person executed in the United States since the Supreme Court allowed capital punishment to resume in 1976."
Gov. Mark Warner had to step in to stop this execution. OK, as a presumed candidate for president he hardly needed this. But as Virginia's governor, he still has a duty to make things right when he can. It didn’t matter whether Lovitt deserved to suffer the penalty his trial’s verdict set for him. What mattered is the justice system cheated Lovitt, however you slice it.
Warner, not an opponent of capital punishment, has proven he has no desire to undo the wisdom of the Commonwealth's judges or juries. Still, you know Warner's opponents will say he's a wimp because he stepped in. In the short run, of course they will try to make him look soft on crime, etc. This was a call that will be slammed, studied and cheered by folks who really don't care two whits about fairness.
Fine. Was it the right call? Yes.
"'The commonwealth must ensure that every time this ultimate sanction is carried out, it is done fairly,' Warner said in a statement, according to AP. 'However, evidence in Mr. Lovitt's trial was destroyed by a court employee, before post-conviction DNA tests could be done. The actions of an agent of the commonwealth, in a manner contrary to the express direction of the law, comes at the expense of a defendant facing society's most severe and final sanction.'"
Then later in the evening came this from the Associated Press: "Virginia's governor on Tuesday spared the life of a convicted killer who would have been the 1,000th person executed in the United States since the Supreme Court allowed capital punishment to resume in 1976."
Gov. Mark Warner had to step in to stop this execution. OK, as a presumed candidate for president he hardly needed this. But as Virginia's governor, he still has a duty to make things right when he can. It didn’t matter whether Lovitt deserved to suffer the penalty his trial’s verdict set for him. What mattered is the justice system cheated Lovitt, however you slice it.
Warner, not an opponent of capital punishment, has proven he has no desire to undo the wisdom of the Commonwealth's judges or juries. Still, you know Warner's opponents will say he's a wimp because he stepped in. In the short run, of course they will try to make him look soft on crime, etc. This was a call that will be slammed, studied and cheered by folks who really don't care two whits about fairness.
Fine. Was it the right call? Yes.
"'The commonwealth must ensure that every time this ultimate sanction is carried out, it is done fairly,' Warner said in a statement, according to AP. 'However, evidence in Mr. Lovitt's trial was destroyed by a court employee, before post-conviction DNA tests could be done. The actions of an agent of the commonwealth, in a manner contrary to the express direction of the law, comes at the expense of a defendant facing society's most severe and final sanction.'"
Where's the Roast Beef?
"How far will it go?" asks CNN. "That's what many nervous officials in Washington are wondering as they brace for what is showing signs of becoming the biggest influence-peddling scandal in decades. An investigation that began nearly two years ago into whether lobbyist Jack Abramoff and his associate Michael Scanlon bilked six Indian tribes out of $80 million now looks as though it could touch dozens of lawmakers, their current and former staff members and Bush Administration officials."
With Virginia's 7th District congressman Eric Cantor's name on the list of 33 lawmakers who reportedly received $830,000 from Abramoff's clients, and who coincidentally then helped scuttle plans for a casino to be built by rivals of the lobbyist's clients there's this tidbit: "At the lobbyist's delicatessen Stacks, Abramoff even named a sandwich after Congressman Eric Cantor at a $500-a-plate fund raiser in January 2003. (Cantor later asked the deli to switch his namesake sandwich from tuna to roast beef on challah.)"
Click here to read the story.
With Virginia's 7th District congressman Eric Cantor's name on the list of 33 lawmakers who reportedly received $830,000 from Abramoff's clients, and who coincidentally then helped scuttle plans for a casino to be built by rivals of the lobbyist's clients there's this tidbit: "At the lobbyist's delicatessen Stacks, Abramoff even named a sandwich after Congressman Eric Cantor at a $500-a-plate fund raiser in January 2003. (Cantor later asked the deli to switch his namesake sandwich from tuna to roast beef on challah.)"
Click here to read the story.
Modern Buttocks Need Longer Needles
As the Who, my favorite '60s Rock 'n' Roll band once sang, "I can't reach you."
Accordingly, Reuters reports: "Fatter rear ends are causing many drug injections to miss their mark, requiring longer needles to reach buttock muscle, researchers said on Monday. ...Two-thirds of the 50 patients in the study did not receive the full dosage of the drug, which instead lodged in the fat tissue of their buttocks, researchers from The Adelaide and Meath Hospital in Dublin said in a presentation to the annual meeting of the Radiological Society of North America."
Click here to read the rest of the short srticle.
Accordingly, Reuters reports: "Fatter rear ends are causing many drug injections to miss their mark, requiring longer needles to reach buttock muscle, researchers said on Monday. ...Two-thirds of the 50 patients in the study did not receive the full dosage of the drug, which instead lodged in the fat tissue of their buttocks, researchers from The Adelaide and Meath Hospital in Dublin said in a presentation to the annual meeting of the Radiological Society of North America."
Click here to read the rest of the short srticle.
Bush Considered Bombing NPR?
According to the Borowitz Report President Bush has been weighing some oddball options in waging the war on terror: "A new report published today indicates that President George W. Bush briefly contemplated bombing National Public Radio in the run-up to the Iraq war but was ultimately talked out of it by British Prime Minister Tony Blair. According to the report, Mr. Blair had just convinced Mr. Bush not to bomb the Arabic-language television network al-Jazeera when the president suddenly shifted gears, turning his sights on the left-leaning NPR."
Monday, November 28, 2005
Warner Calls for Milestones
With his star ascending Gov. Mark Warner made news in the Empire State on Monday, while speaking at New York's Asia Society.
The Washington Post reported: “The United States needs to set milestones for progress, not a firm withdrawal date, before it can leave Iraq, Virginia governor and prospective Democratic presidential candidate Mark Warner said on Monday. ‘This Democrat doesn’t think we need to re-fight how we got into (the Iraq war). I think we need to focus more on how to finish it,’ Warner said. ‘To set an arbitrary deadline or specific date is not appropriate...’”
Then at Daily Kos this post reacted to Warner’s remarks: “I like Warner, but this position is untenable and increasingly obsolete. The debate has shifted from whether we should get out of Iraq to when and how we should get out.”
So, Warner or Kos, which one is telling it like it is? Well, at this desk it says they both are doing their jobs just fine.
Devout lefties should forever dog the Bush administration about its twisted tactics in laying the case for war in Iraq, and for its inept prosecution of that war. Senators who feel they were duped by pickled intelligence supplied by the Bush team should demand the truth be told. Cindy Sheehan and other war protestors should carry on, as long as it takes. The list goes on.
Forcing the truth out of Scooter Libby and Dick Cheney promises to not only be sweet entertainment, it will be a civics lesson for all to take in. But if Mark Warner wants to be elected president, and it seems he does, he has to stay above the all-too-familiar blame game and remain a problem-solver of the first order.
That’s Warner's image and it’s a good one because he can back it up. On top of that, as a governor Warner has no ax to grind, or vote to explain, when it comes to Iraq. Many members of congress do, including Democrats who may be his rivals for the 2008 nomination, no matter how they voted in 2002.
Why would Warner be fool enough to wade into that inside-the-beltway pool of quicksand? Beyond that consideration, who knows if Iraq will be the issue it is today in 2008?
Prudently, Warner calls for “milestones.” That’s not only smart campaign strategy for a man who says you have to campaign/win in such a way that you can govern, it also puts steady pressure on Bush to respond: Like, what’s so wrong with setting milestones?
Bush can easily say no, again and again, to demands for an immediate unconditional pullout. He has his talking points memorized. But, assuming someone tells him the difference between millstone and milestone, can Bush really dismiss Warner's call for a realistic way to measure progress, or the lack thereof.
The Washington Post reported: “The United States needs to set milestones for progress, not a firm withdrawal date, before it can leave Iraq, Virginia governor and prospective Democratic presidential candidate Mark Warner said on Monday. ‘This Democrat doesn’t think we need to re-fight how we got into (the Iraq war). I think we need to focus more on how to finish it,’ Warner said. ‘To set an arbitrary deadline or specific date is not appropriate...’”Then at Daily Kos this post reacted to Warner’s remarks: “I like Warner, but this position is untenable and increasingly obsolete. The debate has shifted from whether we should get out of Iraq to when and how we should get out.”
So, Warner or Kos, which one is telling it like it is? Well, at this desk it says they both are doing their jobs just fine.
Devout lefties should forever dog the Bush administration about its twisted tactics in laying the case for war in Iraq, and for its inept prosecution of that war. Senators who feel they were duped by pickled intelligence supplied by the Bush team should demand the truth be told. Cindy Sheehan and other war protestors should carry on, as long as it takes. The list goes on.
Forcing the truth out of Scooter Libby and Dick Cheney promises to not only be sweet entertainment, it will be a civics lesson for all to take in. But if Mark Warner wants to be elected president, and it seems he does, he has to stay above the all-too-familiar blame game and remain a problem-solver of the first order.
That’s Warner's image and it’s a good one because he can back it up. On top of that, as a governor Warner has no ax to grind, or vote to explain, when it comes to Iraq. Many members of congress do, including Democrats who may be his rivals for the 2008 nomination, no matter how they voted in 2002.
Why would Warner be fool enough to wade into that inside-the-beltway pool of quicksand? Beyond that consideration, who knows if Iraq will be the issue it is today in 2008?
Prudently, Warner calls for “milestones.” That’s not only smart campaign strategy for a man who says you have to campaign/win in such a way that you can govern, it also puts steady pressure on Bush to respond: Like, what’s so wrong with setting milestones?
Bush can easily say no, again and again, to demands for an immediate unconditional pullout. He has his talking points memorized. But, assuming someone tells him the difference between millstone and milestone, can Bush really dismiss Warner's call for a realistic way to measure progress, or the lack thereof.
(Photo Credit: F. T. Rea)
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