And then Sledge Hammer said, "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

How to clean up a hopelessly corrupt Congress, one suffering from a surfeit of greed and venality and plagued by scandal after scandal after scandal such that the actual business of governing is pushed aside?

Who, indeed, could have the probity and experience necessary to cut earmark spending, clean up messy ethical violations, and return Congress to honor and dignity?

What could you possibly do to ensure that the stink of corruption, the taint of self-interest, is washed away for good?

Well, you sure as shit stinks don't put a g-d d-mn Ohio Republican in charge.

You have to be kidding me. John Boehner?

Boner?

A croneyfied, Hammer-huggin', earmark-lovin', backslappin', pork poundin', backstabbin' representative from the most bumbling party in the second most bumbling state (hello, Florida!) in the union? That's your reformer? Meet the new boss, same as the old boss, indeed.

Any way we can ask Parliament nicely if they'll have us back?

[wik] I mean, okay. The guy is better than Blunt, by a country mile. And I know we get the government we deserve, we being the kind of country we are, but by the Flying Spaghetti Monster's noodly appendage what did we do to deserve all this?!?

[alsø wik] Does anybody else remember the long-gone lamented series "Sledge Hammer"? 'Cos I recently had opportunity to watch a few episodes on DVD, and I gotta tell you, it's still funny.

Posted by Johno Johno on   |   § 9

Actual Facts

Hawaii has only two snakes. One is a sea snake rarely seen in Hawaii waters. The other is a blind snake named Bob.

Posted by Buckethead Buckethead on   |   § 0

The Day The Clown Cried

James Lileks thinks this piece should be taught in J-school, and I think so too. An amazingly well written story about, well hell, a down on his luck $300-an-hour children's entertainer in the Washington DC area. Yeah, yeah, you say. Whatever. Bo-ring! Ooh! Seinfeld's on!

Wrong. Just go read the piece. If they ("they") were to make me an offer, my right arm for the ability to write a piece that good, I'd consider it a bargain.

Posted by Johno Johno on   |   § 2

You are not the beholder, no matter how pretty you are

Murdoc's a bright guy. I know that because I read his blog nearly every day. Today he transcended himself and came up with a profound little condensed nugget of truth. While discussing the 38th anniversary of the Tet Offensive, and the still lingering effects of the stupendously biased reporting on it (we won that battle, in case you don't know) Murdoc closed his discussion with this:

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. One man's Tet is another man's Bulge. It's all in the eye of the beholder, and don't make the mistake of believing that YOU are the beholder. We are usually beholders not of events but of reports, and students not of history but of interpretations. [emphasis mine]

That's exactly right; and surprising in an era where awareness of media bias is growing, that hardly anyone - even on the right - really thinks about that. That sentence should be a caption for every single media report, like a Surgeon General's warning on a pack of smokes.

Posted by Buckethead Buckethead on   |   § 2

Whatever Floats Your Boat

Recently, antiwar activists in San Francisco proposed a measure that would ban all military presence from the city - recruiters, bases, what have you. Which is of course their right, no matter how stupid it is. It is also my right to flatten my testicles with a hammer.

Last year, that city's supervisors voted to not bring the USS Iowa to town to serve as a floating museum for the same reason: miltary bad. But that proposal is now being revisited. A group of interested citizens are trying to get the Iowa docked in San Francisco Bay, but only if it's a museum about the history of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered troops in the US military.

As a gay-loving liberal, I have to say... if the city of San Francisco is so coddled and complaisant in their absolute certainty that their freedom and security (including, importantly, the right to kiss who you want in public without fear of public execution) is a diety-given eternal guarantee free of obligation, vigilance or sacrifice that they want the military out out out, and not in the gay way, let them have it.

And if the Iowa does come to San Francisco Bay, I ardently hope that some interest group doesn't strong arm it into being some floating testament to diversity. Bending over backwards to celebrate the diversity of every damn group from hare-lipped citrus growers of Korean descent to... frigging Baptists, who have fuck-all to complain about but still have some bullshit *persecution complex* that makes them feel holier or something (that's what it is with everybody... suffering is holy, ennobling in some vaguely defined and mealy mouthed way)... makes a mockery of the best and brightest tenets of our society. I suppose the story of gays and lesbians (and transgendered folk! Don't forget the transgendered folk!) in the military does need to be told, but does it need to be told in that fuzzy Barney-voiced good-for-you!! fight-the-power way that it undoubtedly would be in the suggested museum? Or can we just have a cool little low-key museum somewheres that covers the gamut of gender/sexual identity matters in the military, from women who fought as men in the Revolution and Civil Wars, the issues or lack thereof of foxhole companionship in the Great War, etc., the effects of the sexual revolution, the fallout from the post-Vietnam drawdown, don't-ask-don't tell on to the present day? That could actually be interesting. But I bet you a million dollars whatever exhibit they would put aboard the Iowa won't be. Not at all.

Wait... which one of you crapped in my Wheaties?

[wik] Not that it's any of my business or anything. And not that this museum is anywhere near being established. But I've had about enough of holding hands and singing kum-by-yah as if it's some sort of public statement of ideological purity, and this little damp squib was enough to set me off again. A few years ago I stood among a group of earnest white wealthy Birkenstocked New Englanders with their fists in the air shouting "Amandla! Owetu!" and other misappropriated slogans from actual struggles in which people died for their freedom, looked around, and realized that celebrating diversity very often amounts to a condescending pat on the head. So eff that.

[alsø wik] If you haven't seen the documentary "Murderball" yet, you just have to. Try to tell one of those wheelchair rugby guys that you feel his pain and celebrate his whatever, and he's likely to punch you in the nuts and throw you off a tall building.

[alsø alsø wik] Via Reason's hit and run, comes news of a new law in Washington (the state) banning private-sector discrimination based on sexual orientation. Julian Sanchez points out the delicious helping of cognitive dissonance in the deliberations leading up to passage:

Sen. Dan Swecker, R-Rochester, said, "Discrimination against anyone is unacceptable, and it is wrong."

"Unfortunately the bill before us today is not the magic tool that will end discrimination in our state," he said. "In reality, it takes us in the opposite direction.

"The passage of this legislation puts us on a slippery slope towards gay marriage. The two are linked. ... Are any of us naive enough to think the court won't take notice?"

So, if private discrimination is banned in the name of diversity, this means that the right of people to freely associate in homogenous groups has been abridged. Which is funny, as well as unconstitutional. But the real threat is that someday gays might associate for life with the buttsex and the stubbly kisses.

Guh?

[wi nøt trei a høliday in Sweden this yër?] And don't kid yourself. There are several compelling and trenchant arguments for approaching allowing gay couples to marry gradually, letting public opinion and time iron out the objections and unintended consequences. But you don't hear those too often in the popular (read: dumbified and soundbyted) debates thereon. What you hear instead is a lot of pretty language about sanctity and tradition and nature that boils down in large part to "ewwwwwww."

[see the løveli lakes...] See what I mean!? This WorldNetDaily piece is incensed that the new AOL Instant Messenger slogan is "I Am." Because it's blasphemy, see? God told Moses his name is "I Am." And AOL's marketing guys, remembering their days of Sunday School, thought it would be a lark to take the name of God in vain in a product name designed to appeal to the very broadest dialup using Churchgoing segment of the population. Because that's what evil corporations do.

[the wøndërful telephøne system...] I wonder what the WorldNetDaily people are gonna do when they hear about my friend Dan. After he got his wife pregnant for the first time, he renamed his cock "The Supreme Creator."

[and mäni interesting furry animals...] It's like our national sport isn't baseball anymore, but drawing fouls. You know, like that move they do in NBA basketball where someone's jersey brushes you and you leap backwards ten feet as if hit by a truck, stagger, and fall to the floor with a crash, all the while screaming "Ref! Reeeeeeeeef!"

Which is pathetic.

Posted by Johno Johno on   |   § 5

Apollo 1, Challenger, Columbia

Three years ago today, Rick Husband, William McCool, Kalpana Chawla, Laurel Clark, David Brown, Michael Anderson and Ilan Ramon perished when the Space Shuttle Columbia broke up on reentry over Texas. Four days and twenty years ago Francis “Dick” Scobee, Michael Smith, Judith Resnik, Ellison Onizuka, Ronald McNair, Gregory Jarvis and Christa McAuliffe died a few minutes after the explosion that destroyed the Challenger. And five days and 39 years ago, Gus Grissom, Ed White and Roger Chaffee were consumed by the Apollo 1 fire on the pad at Cape Canaveral.

This is a bad time of year for NASA, and for anyone who thinks that the future of mankind lies with the stars. Space travel is more than merely dangerous, it is fatal. It is fatal not just because the environment of space is inherently lethal. It is fatal because launch operators who are tasked with assessing the relative risks of launches are human, and make tragic mistakes due to lack of knowledge, hubris, or political pressure. It is because the politicians and managers who fund space development are only human, and political compromise and venality leads to fatal constraints on design. It is because the people who design the vehicles are human, and design less than perfect vehicles for astronauts to fly.

The astronauts accept these risks, knowing that the vehicles they fly, and that the people who make the decisions that could cost them their lives are far from perfect. Seventeen people dead in forty years is a high price for going into space, perhaps. And even higher price would be not doing it at all.

Posted by Buckethead Buckethead on   |   § 1

Rocket Racing One Step Closer

Peter Diamandis - the saint-like personage responsible for both the X-Prize and the vast inflation of the hopes of space geeks everywhere - looks like he is within reach of forming an honest to God rocket racing league. Combining the best aspects of current day NASCAR racing and the golden age of aircraft racing, the Rocket Racing League's competitors will fly modified versions of XCOR Aerospace's EZ-Rocket design over complex three dimensional courses, combining gliding with strategically-timed rocket burns to achieve the best time.

F-16 pilots Robert “Bobaloo” Rickard and Don “Dagger” Grantham paid their $100,000 deposit to the league yesterday, to become the first of what the League hopes will be ten teams in the 2007 inaugural season. The hundred grand will go to the expected million-dollar-plus cost of their Mark-1 X-Racer. Operating costs for the rocket and the race team will easily be on the order of a million dollars a year. But hey, they're racing rockets.

I will certainly be glued to the tv when this all comes together. And if it leads to the development of better rocket technology, well that'll just be pure gravy.

Posted by Buckethead Buckethead on   |   § 1

A new low

Once, in a brighter age, I was a movie afficianado. I saw everything. I loved good movies, and I loved bad movies. The badder, the better in many cases. (Evil Dead, They Live for example.) Today they announced the Oscar nominees. I have seen 1 (one) movie nominated for major awards. That's it. Okay, two if you count the Best Animated Film category as a major award. Ten years ago, I would have seen all but maybe one of the movies up for the big ones, and most of the movies up for the technical awards. This year, it's the exact inverse.

The one movie I've seen is "Walk the Line," the Johnny Cash biopic. And, of course, the Wallace and Grommit Curse of the Wererabbit flick. And "March of the Penguins," nominated for best documentary. Aside from those, I saw "Batman Begins," "War of the Worlds," "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire," "Star Wars: Episode III Revenge of the Sith," which were nominated for assorted technical awards.

The real reason for this cinematic apathy is not a a decling interest on my part in movies. Or even the widely rumored decline in the quality of films produced. The reason I don't see movies is about three feet tall and named John Christian. Three year olds don't behave well in movie theaters. And the prospect of paying out the yin yang for a sitter just to watch a movie I may or may not like is simply inconceivable.

The only time Mrs. Buckethead and I actually go see real movies in actual movie theaters is at the big holidays, when we have family (read: free babysitters) to watch our spawn. The very limited opportunities for movie watching has had a drastic effect on how we choose which movies to watch. Generally speaking, we only watch movies that we can be sure ahead of time that we will really enjoy. And among that small group, we are likely to pick the movie that woould be the most impressive on the big screen - in order to maximise our movie experience. In other words, we'll watch Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire twice before going to see something like "Syriana" or "Good Night, and Good Luck." Not to pick on Mr. Clooney, but if he wants to see us watching his movies, he really ought to star in a big budget special effects extravaganza with lots of explosions.

As John has gotten older, his impact on our movie watching has only increased. For the first couple years of his life, we could watch more or less anything on video. He was simply unaware of what was happening on screen. This eased the process of accomodation - we were able to wean ourselves off the movie crack gradually. But after watching "Christmas Vacation" and having John ask, "Where's the Kitty?" we realized that even that option had been closed off. And since John is a night owl like Mrs. Buckethead and myself, the only way I'll ever watch my Sin City DVD is if I get up at five in the morning and watch it before I go to work. Which isn't really an option at all.

Seeing as we have another spawn cooking right now (she'll be done sometime around the end of March) it will be at least another five years before I can watch movies again. If we have another kid, that day will be pushed back to sometime after 2012. Hopefully by that time they'll be able to beam movies directly into my nob.

Posted by Buckethead Buckethead on   |   § 7