From Morton Kondracke

"The best political joke of 2008 was Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell's, R-Ky., at the Washington Press Club Foundation's dinner in February -- about how the Democratic race featured Hillary Rodham Clinton, a New York senator born in Illinois, and Barack Obama, an Illinois senator 'who seems to have been born in a manger.'

"Except, the joke isn't valid anymore. The long, contentious Democratic primary battle has reduced Obama from a messiah -- except among his most ardent disciples -- to an ordinary mortal."

Another Sunday

Except for the weekday 5 o'clock news (where I appeared four days last week), I don't watch much TV news, except, again, on Sunday.

I start, however, with a ridiculous TV commercial for some breakfast cereal shaped like little pillows, covered with sugar. It showed an elementary school student who was suddenly, unexpectedly bright and responsive in class, and the credit was given to the cereal which "improves attention by 20%." I know they are only encouraging us to eat a nutritious breakfast, but, be serious -- a 20% increase in performance? Not 18 or 19 or 21, but 20%. And then there's all that sugar. Nonsense.

I watched FoxNews Sunday and the three P BS news talk shows, and the words "Operation Chaos" were never mentioned. The Democrats seemed pleased with an increase in voter registrations, but the possibility that some of Rush's millions of listeners might have changed parties to vote for Mrs. Bill Clinton never came up. However it happened, we are now being treated to a good look at why no one should vote for either of them.

On Sixty Minutes Antonin Scalia made another of his stunning appearances. Since the recent death of William F. Buckley Jr., he is now the sole greatest American thinker. He is not a politician, but I suspect he would make a fine president. This is probably another example of our missing out on the best person.


PARENTHETICALLY: The media avoiding the issue reminds me of my final encounter with the California Teachers' Association before my resignation. At a representative meeting, the local president had proposed we buy a gift for the retiring personnel director, and we voted "no." At the next meeting, the reading of the minutes made no mention of the vote, and, when I questioned it, the secretary explained, "No such thing happened." If it's embarrassing, avoid it?

On Tuesday

For those of you who have been depriving yourselves of the pleasure of listening to the humor and wisdom of Rush Limbaugh, I offer the following update. During the Pennsylvania primary election yesterday, "Operation Chaos" had a significant effect. Thousands of Keystone State Republicans re-registered as Democrats to vote for Mrs. Bill Clinton to insure the chaos in the Democratic Party continues. The more they talk, the worse they sound, and the less likely either will become President.

It is impossible to ascertain exactly how much of Mrs. Clinton's 10-point victory can be attributed to Limbaugh, but however it happened, the contest goes on. Obama will attack her gender, and she will attack his naivety. She will complain that he's "picking on her," and he will scramble to explain his association with racists. It should get nastier and nastier, and Rush will chronicle it all on his show. It should be great entertainment for us fun-loving conservatives.

On Sunday

As I was perusing the Sacramento Bee for the definitive letter I had written to the editor, I paused to read my favorite humor columnist, Gene Weingarten. It turns out he is an avowed liberal, the one person of that ilk with a sense of humor. Bill O'Reilly, whom he describes as a "humorless, sputtering, self-righteous scold," had objected to being the target of Weingarten's wit. O'Reilly is that rare humorless conservative. Those of us happy conservatives particularly enjoyed Weingarten's apology, "To Ann Coulter, whom I once compared in a column to Erszebet Bathory, the l6th-century noblewoman who killed her servant girls and bathed in their blood as a skin-care therapy, I sincerely apologize. That comparison was unfair. You are much taller."

Politics, notwithstanding, Weingarten is funny, unlike liberal grumps such as Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi, and Teddy Kennedy, who can only force a smile after six or seven drinks. My letter was not published, even though it solved the Olympics dilemma and gave the key to ending racism. Damn liberal newspaper. (I'll post it here, if you ask.)

Debate

Of course, I didn't watch the ABC-TV Democratic embarrassment-fest, which even the liberal press headlined, "In debate, rivals dissect missteps and misstatements." I can't imagine what Obama or Mrs. Bill could say that would make me forget his racism and her lying. How could anyone seriously consider making either of them the leader of the free world? (Chelsea Clinton, however, continues to impress, having apparently risen above her white trash background.)

Instead, I watched TV for its primary purpose -- entertainment. The FOX-TV sitcoms provided some chuckles and a good comment on race relations. Back To You introduced us to Schwatz Beer and the command, "Hoist your Schwatz in the air." My schwatz hasn't been the same since.

On Til Death, Brad Garrett and the crew reminded us of our humanity, and titillated our palates with chicken, and, you guessed it, pancakes. Later, on CBS-TV, came the serial killers we have all come to know and love. Nevertheless, their capture (one was "continued") was more uplifting than the doom and gloom emanating from the debate.

"Bimming Up" (Spaceballs?)

Last night on The Big Bang Theory, the best new sitcom, and one of the best ever, they discussed the impossibility of the one thing of which everyone has always dreamed. I once had a colleague who called it "The Instant There," and on Star Trek, it was "beaming up."

From time to time, I ask first born if some of those ubiquitous scientists are working on it, and she keeps telling me it can't be done. On Bang, this depressing fact was brought home again. Some nonsense about breaking up the molecules and reconstituting them elsewhere? Why not? Isn't that like TV itself? People perform, and the pictures are transported thousands of miles and magically appear in our homes.

Think of how this would improve romantic and family relations, if we could be reunited with far-flung loved ones in moments. Even that dreaded Thanksgiving trip to grandmother's house in Fresno would be more tolerable if we could also leave instantaneously, before she served the green bean casserole. Even the offer to me to join the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum, which includes a year of free visits, could be a reality. But at this time, a trip to New York seems as remote as a visit with Klingons.


EXTRA: Research reveals that in 1966-67, Star Trek's peak season, it placed #52, behind The Iron Horse and Mr. Terrific. The Iron Horse featured Gary Collins, with whom I once appeared on stage. I have never heard of Mr. Terrific, or its star, Stephen Strimpell.

Happy Tax (and "Stimulus") Day to those who can file, and welcome, Pope Benedict.

Royalty

The new crown prince of the nation of The Holier-Than-Thou is Jim Beall, liberal Democrat from San Jose, who wants to amend the California constitution to tax beer an additional $.30 per can. Liberals just can't stop looking for someone new to punish, because, apparently, attacking smokers, automobile manufacturers, oil companies, and rich people doesn't give them enough gratification.

Watch out! One of YOUR pleasures and/or addictions will be in for it next. You evil coffee drinkers -- they're looking at you. What a cash cow you'll be.

What else do we spend millions on? Oh, yes, pet food and accessories. Let's tax them to oblivion, and to hell with Rover. After all, we wouldn't want lazy, able-bodied welfare recipients to have to work or pay full rent.

How about legalizing prostitution and marijuana. and subjecting them to liberal taxation, so that we can provide the illegal aliens with the finest health care, education, and legal representation?
Oh, and don't forget the carne asada and churritos in prison.

Now, if the liberals could only find a way to tax the air we breathe, think of the power they'd have over us. Oh, wait, they have. With their global warming nonsense, they have caused an increase in the cost of power, clean air, gasoline and food. Thank you, Jim Beall and your ilk.


Happy 102nd, Mom, wherever you are.

RIP

A fringe group of religious zealots from Kansas, or some similarly blighted area, is threatening to disrupt a local military funeral. Here is my response for TV:

Every funeral is a private, family matter. Who the family asks to attend is no one's business but theirs, and those who are not invited must respect the privacy of the family and the sanctity of the dead by staying away.

Sarah Silverman

I am a student of the Sarah Silverman school of comedy. She is the cute Jewish actress/comedienne who, on a late night talk show, appropriately called a pompous man from some minor Asian protest group a "douche bag." He had allowed himself to be offended by the fact that she had once told a joke with the word "Chink" in it. Sarah will not, and should not be silenced.

Sarah consistently challenges political correctness. No thin-skinned person should ever see her in performance, but those of us who are not frightened by "inappropriate" words can enjoy an evening of laughing at ourselves. Except for her douche bag remark, she is rarely mean to anyone, certainly never anyone who doesn't deserve it, but she does not suffer bigots graciously.


EXTRA: When China was chosen for the Olympics, it was in the hope that the honor would encourage them to improve their human rights record. They didn't, and in fact, they are now also oblivious to environmental damage. The athletes of the world should stay home, and the IOC should find an alternate site or sites as soon as possible.

When we went into Iraq, we promised them we would free them from Saddam and his weapons. He had hidden the WMDs, but he couldn't hide himself. Now, we must stay until the Iraqis demonstrate they can govern and protect themselves from the local practitioners of worldwide terrorism.

The small town of Newaygo

(Lest anyone be confused, the Indians to whom I referred humorously yesterday are Native Americans, misnamed by Europeans who, upon landing in the New World, thought they had reached India, the Asian sub-continent.)

Big Gambling has informed me that they are investigating the possibility that I had sold my ancestral land at the end of the last century. I had inherited a city lot in an empty block on the outskirts of Newaygo, Michigan, from my father, who had bought it in the 60s, hoping for a housing boom. One house was eventually built, and my lot is now the owner's expanded back yard.

I do not know if Newaygo is an Indian name, or simply a description of a part of a new path that someone discovered to get from one place to another (or both). I do know that my lot was originally ceded to John Ball by the U.S. government. John Ball must have been a major entrepreneur, because he had land throughout Michigan, and, in fact, donated a large portion of it in Grand Rapids for the creation of John Ball Park and Zoo.

Speaking of Indians, it has been suggested that some of my mother's ancestors may have been Gypsies. Gypsies were nomadic tribes who migrated from northern India to eastern Europe, and eventually, to North America. Some of these people reputedly have engaged in illegal behavior, but not my relatives. No, not ever. Really.

Maybe that's my Indian connection.

The New Fukawi

I have decided that I am an Indian. Following in the tradition of the southern California woman and her three children who call themselves a tribe, I, on behalf of my three children, am declaring myself the California Rancheria of the New Fukawi tribe. (There are actually four children, but one has disowned me, and he won't want to share in the upcoming gambling windfall.) I have been talking to Big Gambling, Inc., about the construction of my casino. I have made the "traditional" deal for 10% of the profits. I'm going to be one rich redskin.

The New Fukawi are a branch of the original Fukawi. You will remember how they got their name: The first chief, while wandering through the wilds of Michigan, climbed a hill, looked about, and pronounced, "Where (we're) the Fukawi?" and the name survives to this day. We appeared in the iconic TV show F Troop, but as the more politically correct Hekawi tribe.

My Indian roots run deep. My mother once went to a medicine man, and was prescribed "Ojibwa Indian bitters," which she took for, but which had no effect on, her headaches. In addition, on our regular Sunday family drives through the Michigan countryside (when gasoline was affordable), my father, when he espied some rustic housing nestled in the woods, would open the car window, sniff the air, and playfully declare, "Mmm, Indians." How do you suppose he knew? Finally, my high school was on Iroquois Drive, and I went fishing for the first time on Potawatomi Bayou, an arm of Lake Michigan. How much more Indian can you get?

I had considered legitimate businesses, such as electronics or shoe repair, or some other skilled occupation, but when Big Gambling mentioned the possibility of an adjoining hotel and hookers, how could I resist? Look out, ladies, here I come.

They speak for them

After the brouhaha about television and motion picture writers, it has struck me that some of the most significant writers in America are presidential speech writers. These are some of the most erudite and creative thinkers there are. They spend long hours constructing fine literature for their employers to use to convey their political position.

Some of these writers have worked for fine public speakers like JFK, Ronald Reagan, and Slick Willie Clinton. They made their writers' words sound good, and made themselves look intelligent. President Bush, who is as competent as any other president, lacks rhetorical skills. His writers are probably frustrated because their words are not achieving the full effect they intended.

Two recent presidential candidates also have competent writers. Barack Obama has charged his with the task of covering up his intentions and his racism, and his delivery is appealing. Don't be fooled.

Mrs. Bill Clinton's writers are trying hard, but she keeps interjecting personal reminiscences which are, in fact, fiction, which she hopes will improve her resume. Unfortunately, she and the Clinton Machine will be the Democratic candidate. Good luck.

Republican John McCain was a career military man from a military family. He loves his country, and has served selflessly in the Senate. He can think on his feet and make speedy decisions. It is unlikely he wants or need writers.