Breathless

Nobody embarrassed him/herself on this week's "The Last Comic Standing." Billed as a semifinal, it was, at best, a quarterfinal. The group was winnowed down from 12 to five, but the same thing will happen again next week with another dozen. Then, as I remember, the surviving ten will be reduced a few at a time to fill the summer.

The highlight for me was the faux Christian singing duo named God's Pottery. It's a sacrilegious parody by two young men with slicked-down hair and perpetuallly goofy smiles. Their voices are karaoke quality, and last night's song was "The Pants Don't Come Down Until the Ring Goes On." It's my kind of humor.


I see where New York CIty has several "waterfalls" up and running for the summer tourist season. Where are the complaints from the environmentalists, or does the water walk to the top of those towers they have erected? What a politically incorrect use of energy. Besides, we can't have pleasure in this country; we must suffer and kvetch, so the Democrats can promise us miraculous changes. Don't hold your breath.

. . . but I doubt it.

I spoke too soon. Last night's two-hour episode of "America's Got Talent" was much worse than what I remembered from last year. I suppose I should have taken a hint from the grammatically clumsy title. How much nicer "America Has Talent" would be.

Three or four acts with some degree of talent were sandwiched in among a plethora of people whom the judges gave the hook long before they were finished. I imagine I could walk down the street and find more talent than many of them exhibited. Apparently, there is no rehearsal, or the producer is just really mean, and he thinks we are too.

I don't usually dislike Jerry Springer, the host, but this year he has decided to talk to the contestants before, after, and even DURING their performances. "Good job," and "wow," yelled from the wings are inappropriate. After a long montage of clips from inept magicians, they gave us the Pendragons, a married couple who have been successful for thirty years. He has been recuperating for a while from a rehearsal accident with an arrow. Although we all know how it's done, they executed the switch-people-in-the-box illusion flawlessly. If nothing else, they are ready to go back to work.

The best act of the evening was a pleasant young singer, whom the judges likened to Billy Joel, but who sounded like Springsteen to me. But then, it's not my kind of music, so it could actually have been his own style, for all I know, (insert title).

Clarification

On the occasion of the death of George Carlin, on a day when outside my door it smells like a campfire, and contemplating all the problems of the world, I am thinking about the vital importance of humor in life. If we stop laughing, we'll all turn into unhappy liberal politicians. We have to see the funny in everything, or morbidity will overcome us. It's like the story of the driver of the school bus for the disabled, who, when one of her charges fell, laughed; because, as she explained, "Otherwise we would all have to cry."

In this regard, I must make a slight correction to yesterday's post. When I find it convenient, I sometimes watch two reality-type TV shows, "The Last Comic Standing," and "America's Got Talent." Mostly because the summer doesn't offer any new drama shows or sit-coms, I seek good humor and well-conceived entertainment wherever it can be found. I do deplore, however, the exploitation of the obviously untalented, and I don't know why these shows feel the necessity to display their embarrassment on screen. The producers appear to be pandering to some latent meanness in human beings, but I apparently have sublimated that quality in my character, because my thought is, "Please only show me people who have a reasonable chance to make the finals. I refuse to laugh at anyone who has been encouraged to overestimate his ability."

I avoid the other 47 reality shows. (First time words in my blog: morbidity and sublimated.)

Doggy diet pills

. . . and you thought they couldn't sink any lower. The drug companies have created a plethora of diseases and pills to treat them. Nervousness, for instance, has become various exotic-sounding diseases, and they say you need a medication to treat them. It's a pharmaceutical bonanza.

While thumbing through Parade Magazine, the chronicle of pop culture, I first came upon an item about emailing them to vote who should win the Emmy for best reality-TV host. As if anyone watches that garbage.

Then, I discovered the piece de resistance: an advert for doggy diet pills. No doubt some dogs are overweight, and it is unhealthy. So, Pfizer, in true drug company tradition, has created another medication. Nonsense.

Dog owners can simply feed Rover less to control his weight. Also, monitoring what the pooch eats, like avoiding fat and sugar, and eliminating "people" food from his diet, will return him to his fighting weight. Those owners who are too stupid or lazy to feed properly are guilty of animal abuse, and anyone who would give diet pills to a dog is a pusher.


RIP: George Carlin 1937-2008 (The eighth and ninth words we hate to hear on TV: "Goodbye, George.")

"They're off and running. . ."

Our nation is engaged in a life-and death struggle against a religion-based enemy who has sworn to kill us all, the price of oil has skyrocketed, people are dying because they can't afford health care, illegal aliens are streaming over the border, many of them bent on no good, and Congress has decided to discuss HORSE RACING.

Horse racing began in the dim, dark past, when one fellow boasted his horse could run faster than some other fellow's. Which horse was faster was probably irrelevant; it was more a case of machismo. Their friends soon discovered that this was an opportunity for gambling, the world's second oldest form of entertainment.

Then, a private industry developed around this "sport," and big money began to change hands. Eventually, the government began to take note, because where there's money, there's the opportunity to tax it.

Last week, the House Subcommittee on Blah-Blah-Blah stuck its nose into horse racing with a mind to further regulation. Their topics included synthetic track surface and steroid use. They are completely ignoring the fact that this is a private industry, and if the public perceives that the animals are being mistreated, they won't attend, and the whole enterprise will collapse. Also ignored is the fact that the industry understands the problem, and is doing something about it. And forgotten are the honest trainers and breeders who are relying on the industry financially, and don't need government interference to do what is right.

Get China out of Tibet, and Congress out of the horse racing business.

Eatin' out

A very nice new restaurant has opened in our village. It is adjacent to the freeway, in the USA Gas Station/Taco Bell "mall." It is on the opposite side of the freeway from the old, overpriced, unexceptional tourist trap eatery. I hope it will be successful.

The restauranteur has built a whole new, pretty white building. They have also opened a bakery, and are hoping to lease the offices on the second floor. The theme is Portuguese, but they have a varied menu. The choices are limited, but they have only been open for a month, and they promise more. The room is light and airy, and the service was excellent. The salad bar lacked only 1000-Island Dressing, and the leek soup even pleased our picky one. Our entrees were ample and tasty, and can be had for less than $15. And it's only two miles from our place.

It's beginning to look more like civilization around here.

Quickie (We're expecting a visitor.)

A block from my house, a pump is extracting natural gas from the earth. Miners are risking their lives to dig coal in mountainous areas of our country. Fissionable material is being removed from U.S. soil. Why shouldn't we drill for the fourth and most important source of energy -- oil?

RIP

Tula Finklea (1921-2008) Legs that went all the way to the ground.

Goodwill

Be forewarned, some of the following could be considered mean, but the holier-than-thou always annoy me, and I know the newspaper won't print this, so here it is.

A letter was sent to the editor by a couple with different last names. I will be presupposing something about their lifestyle from that and what they wrote. I am not including their names, so I won't have to apologize if I'm wrong.

I suspect they are not married. That, in itself, doesn't bother me unless they have, or plan to have children. They began by telling us they grow their own fruits and veggies, which means they have available land and possibly too much time on their hands. With that time they also bake their own bread, probably because it tastes better. Whoopee, they recycle, but who doesn't? The crap is worth money, and if you're not working. . . .

They congratulate themselves for saving water, as if they don't realize it's a finite resource, and they can't create any more of it. I don't know if they sit around in the dark, or the heat, or the cold, but they are "saving energy," probably for financial reasons. They shop in second-hand stores (duh), and recommend you buy used bags for schlepping groceries. They probably own or are planning to buy a vehicle that is small and freeway dangerous. I bet they grumble a bit, and I'm not convinced their "way of life. . . feeds [their] souls." They think they are superior, but, at their house, the terrorists have won.

A real American

Tim Russert, writing about his father, "Big Russ," reported that when Russ retired he was informed that he had 200 days of sick leave left. Tim asked him, "Why didn't you take any sick leave?"

Russ replied, "I wasn't sick." That is the true American spirit.

Support

My post entitled "Chicken Little" (6/4) was published in today's paper. My criticism of teachers who frighten children about the environment, and the parents who allow the newspaper to print their fabricated letters was accompanied by a letter from Poni Mosier. Poni says, in part, "I realize how brainwashed our children are becoming. Each student virtually parroted the same mantra. The amount of guilt being imposed on them is shameful. . . . Don't put words in their mouths. . . .

"They should not be expected to bear the burden of guilt and regret, that they are exploited with every day in the classroom. THEY are the resource that needs to be protected. Let's teach them they are a part of a beautiful world. . . and their role is to be children and enjoy it."

I thank you, Poni, and so do the children.

Two for TV

The entire state of California appears to be on fire. The local conflagration has even made the national news. As a result, yesterday's TV email segment was curtailed, so I have the following two pending:

1. Oil companies are not evil bloodsuckers, but rather they are working on alternate sources of energy, providing jobs for millions, and helping their investors earn top dividends. It's just liberal meanness and class envy to attack them. The liberals would obliterate the Golden Rule in their zeal to find someone to punish.

2. Obama's idea of change is surrendering to the terrorists, punishing the oil companies, enacting massive tax increases, and giving us socialized medicine. They don't seem to be changes for the better, so what's the point?

Court shows

Let me tell you what I have learned from watching court shows on TV. Of course, there are a whole lot of people who are no damn good, but that's not today's lesson.

If you have a minor auto accident with another vehicle, jump out of your car, run to the spot of the collision, making sure the other driver observes, point and say, very loudly, "Look what YOU did!" It is also advisable to take pictures (even if your camera has no film in it).

Call the police, especially if the other driver begs you not to. Be sure to repeat the phrase, "Look what HE/SHE did!" Exchange your information in front of the officer, and do your best to get him/her to write a report. Crying is optional.

Over the river, and through the orchards

On the way to the doctor, we came up upon three troglodytes in a seasoned pickup, just as one of the hirsute passengers tossed out a beer can. I asked first born if we shouldn't observe the new "Squeal on Your Neighbors" policy which is growing in popularity. (To be fair, so far they've only talked about turning in DUIs.) She said, "Who would I call?"

"9-1-1?" I queried. "That's for emergencies, and I don't know the sheriff's regular number," she replied.

On the two-lane road, we were forced the follow the politically incorrect travelers for almost 20 miles, watching carefully for further aluminum missiles. Their thirst had apparently been slaked, or they may have wasted some of their beer money feeding their children. Actually, it's a scary thought that any of them might have reproduced.

Congratulations

Today's news makes me feel younger. Les Paul is still with us, and celebrating his 93rd birthday. I hope his health permits him to enjoy the day.

Les Paul is the father of the electric guitar and multi-track recording, and, as a result, he made the popular music of the last 60 years possible. Please join me in thanking him (for his, and similarly good, music). Too often we wait too long.

I went to the doctor today, and he assured me I was still alive. He added some cholesterol pills to my medicine cocktail. I have my doubts about the deleterious effects of cholesterol, but it's a cheap, generic pill, so, what the hell, what harm can it do?

Well, let's see. The trainer of Big Brown, the odds-on favorite to win the Triple Crown, gave the horse steroids regularly until two weeks before the Belmont. He said he didn't know if they did any good, but they didn't seem to do any harm. My resident veterinarian postulates that withdrawl could very well have caused Big Brown to finish last.

44

I am feeling old today.

May YOU feel young today.

A smoke-filled room

A MEETING OF THE CLINTON MACHINE

". . . but, I got the most popular votes."

"Be quiet, lady, we've got to figure out what to do."

"You can't talk to my wife like that."

"Just keep puffin' that cigar, and butt out."

"But I was the President."

"Yeah, right. Now, shut up. You caused enough trouble on the campaign trail."

(WHINE) "But I want to be President."

"Didn't I tell you to shut up, lady?"

"The man's black, for God's sake."

"Well, you thought you were too, Bill." How many superdelegates can you deliver?"

"Isn't it too late?"

"As Yogi said, 'It ain't over 'til it's over.' They have to vote at the convention, and we have to destroy Obama before then. You know, Rev. Wright, Fr. Pfleger, 57 states, pushy wife, all that stuff."

"Then I will be President?"

"For the last time, let us take care of it."

"What about AlGore?"

(TUTTI) "Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha."

"Seriously, that global warming crap is beginning to stink on ice."

"I think we might just pull it off, if you can deliver the superdelegates, Bill."

(WHISPER) "Maybe that'll shut the bitch up."

(CACKLE)

-- From Ronald Reagan

"The most terrifying words in the English language are: I'm from the government and I'm here to help."

Chicken Little

A few months ago, I took a lot of heat for criticizing 5th grade teachers for scaring kids about the environment. Today, the E-R printed more letters, purportedly written by 3rd and 4th grade students this time, which contained phrases such as, "The world is dying. Stop the madness." Hardly the thoughts of 8-10 year-olds, or at least, shouldn't be.

The same letter had the child saying, "Eventually there won't be anymore [sic] animals, and there will be a hole in the ozone." There is no evidence to prove that humans can damage or repair the ozone layer. Another letter had a child saying, "We won't have any oxygen and there won't be any trees."

Why would the E-R print such inflammatory material, and why would these children's parents let them? Sure, it's nice to see your child's name in print, but what about him/her going to bed at night in fear that the world may go away while they sleep?

I have come to accept that there are inappropriate teachers, but why are there people who encourage them to scare and intimidate their students? No thinking person wants to destroy the environment, any more than they want their children to live in fear. Let's infuse the children with hope and comfort instead.

"The Music of the Night"

On Saturday night, we took a 100-mile road trip to see the The Phantom of the Opera. As a preface, I must say that our family cannot afford premium seating, so we were quite a distance from the stage. The only advantage that location offered was that the boat illusion was more impressive than for those who could see how it was achieved technically.

This show is three stunning musical numbers, and over an hour of filler. We were disadvantaged because we couldn't see the performers' mouths, so much of it was unintelligible to us, and, as far as we knew, the whole thing could have been lip-synched.

The voices were strong and appropriate. From our perch, it appeared their acting was competent. The lighting was dim, creating the dark mood a phantom would elicit. The settings were well executed and changed smoothly in the dark.

No one out here in the boonies recognized any of the players, but they seem to be young enough to be called "up-and-comers." It was well received by the provincials. The local newspaper had overhyped the falling chandelier, which was badly conceived and poorly executed. But then, in all fairness, they've been schlepping the thing around the country for months.

A New Fuhrer (mit ein Umlaut)

Somewhere, possibly in prison, a new Hitler is writing his version of Mein Kampf. While Adolph blamed the Jews, blacks, homosexuals, the mentally challenged and anyone who wasn't "Ayran-looking," for all of his country's troubles, the new potential American Fuhrer will be going after smokers, rich people, oil companies, auto manufacturers, and all other successful business enterprises.

He has been to seventh century Afghanistan and admired their suppression of women and the beheading techniques perfected by Al Qaida. But most of all, he envisions an America with crystal-clear air, uncontaminated by the pollution created by the industrial revolution.

In his cell, he dreams of a nation which is like the Old West, where horses were the only means of transportation and stealing them was a hanging offense. Where people shot those with whom they were angry in the back, and "the skies were not cloudy all day. Home, home on the range."

As we approach this election season, we must take care to reject those who follow the cult of punishment, and watch carefully for the strong man who is lurking in the wings, ready to pounce and take us back in time. Hitler promised his country he would end inflation, provide a sensible "people's car," and make the trains run on time. He did that, and millions of people died. What will the new Hitler do?