But you can't hold a whole fraternity responsible for the behavior of a few, sick twisted individuals.

If you could help me out here I'd greatly appreciate it. I'm trying to decide which of these nasty Delta House dweebs I should put on Triple Secret Probation. Which of them do you think is most deserving of my Foot of Rghteousness?

A) Pope "Ratzy" Benedict who decided this week that it would be a good idea to un-excommunicate ("recommunicate?") the clergy of a right wing sect famous for holocaust denial. It occurs to me that when you've faced criticism for dabbling in the Hitler Youth as boy this might not be the best decision to make. What's next? Jackboots for the Swiss Guard?

B) J.J. "Mugato" Abrams who opted to ruin one of the suprises of his new "Star Trek" movie in spoiling the fact there will be a cameo by one of our little, furry buddies from the original show. He also chose to prove that he not only doesn't get Star Trek, but seems lost when it comes to the great movie "Galaxy Quest" as well when he told an interviewer that GQ "...completely mocks the paradigm in its entirety." Not exactly, J.J.

C) Barack "Hoops" Obama who called Wall Street bonuses "shameful" but to this point has acted as if he has no power to do anything about it. Tie any additonal TARP funds to the condition those executive bonuses are returned and for God's sakes nationalize those financial institutions. Their executives are morons. It's not like we couldn't put chimpanzees in those boardrooms with the same results.

I hate those guys.

Tell me Sarah, what do you think of my labyrinth?

I was listening to Bowie's "China Girl" this morning and have a question-

Why are sacred cows known for stumbling into town?

Clouseau is sitting there, in a chair, just like you, with his back to me. Then suddenly, my hands go round his throat, and I begin to squeeze.

From the "Crazy Lady with Too Much Time on Her Hands" file:

KNIGHTSVILLE, Ind. (WTHI) - Months ago, Rachel Jones was shocked to discover her 4-year-old's baby doll seemed to have a hidden message: Islam is the light.

Imagine her surprise when a game for her 8-year-old daughter's Nintendo DS had the same message.

Rachel said she bought the Nintendo game, Baby Pals, as a gift for her 8-year-old daughter after a good report card.

She had no idea the game also contained the hidden message "Islam is the light."

"We were sitting in the kitchen, and she was playing it," said Jones. "All of a sudden she looked at me, and I looked at her and she said, 'Mom, I think my baby said something.' And so I played it back, and it says 'Islam is the light.'"

The hard-hitting journalist who wrote this piece actually contacted the game's manufacturer for comment rather than gently suggesting to Mrs. Jones that she walk, not run, to the nearest state certified mental health professional.

I think I identified the problem:

The Nintendo game has an "E" rating, which means it's suitable for any age.

The toy/ gaming industry should immediately institute a "L" rating so that loonies can avoid paying for something they might misunderstand.

If you are wise, you will listen to me.

Oompa Loompa doom-pa-dee-do
I have another puzzle for you
Oompa Loompa doom-pa-da-dee
If you are wise, you'll listen to me

Executive-privilege only gets you so far
It keeps you from bathing in feathers and tar
But it's immoral, illegal and wrong
To fire attorneys that don't sing your song

Just like that Nixon guy

Oompa Loompa doom-pa-dee-da
Spill what you know, you will go far
Conyers will live in happiness too
Like the Oompa Loompa doom-pa-dee-do

You see, the great secret, Eliza, is not a question of good manners or bad manners, or any particular sort of manners.

More stories like this please.

Secretary of State Hillary Clinton received a rousing welcome this morning when she arrived at Foggy Bottom for the first time, as cheering foreign service and civil service employee packed every inch of the C Street lobby, including the balcony overlooking the flags of foreign nations.

I can't be the only one that remembers those smarmy articles back in 2001 about how career service workers at the White House were overjoyed to have the classless Clintons replaced with that o-so-cultured George and Laura Bush.

When it comes to the East Wing I would find it hard to believe that tweener hijinks of Sasha and Malia will be anywhere near as offensive to your average janitor at the white house as having to clean up the vomited leavings of the drunken Bush daughters back from an all night bender but you never can tell.

Then there's this rumor that Michelle Obama has never pulled that classy move of committing vehicular homicide of a an ex-boyfriend. I hope the white house staff will find her worthy despite the fact she's never left tire tracks on an old beau.

Don't even get me started on that gentlemanly George "Backrub" Bush and his inability to understand the term "personal space."

I'll gladly take the relieved accolades of thousands of career Civil Servants who've essentially spent the last 8 years as POWs over the back room whining of a few butlers who were upset that president Clinton didn't require suit jackets be worn in the Oval Office.

Even if we give in to the dubious proposition that Bill and Hillary "trashed the white house" then we're still left with fact that George and Laura trashed the nation. The General Accounting Office can't even put a dollar figure on that last bit of damage, unlike Clinton's missing "W" keys.

The adults are back in charge, even if they don't wear their suit jackets at their desks.

The point is that you sort of have to take off those jackets should you actually want to roll up your sleeves and get to work.

Either I'm dead right, or I'm crazy!

Just a quick note on cynicism.

In my world the only sane people are those that display a healthy dose of cynicism. Out of those people I reserve my deepest respect for those that are willing to channel their cynicism towards their own most deeply held beliefs.

At the same time I subscribe to the Aristotle's call for "moderation in all things." In practice I take this to mean that even things that are good for us, say diet or exercise, can ultimately be unhealthy if we allow them to consume our lives.

With this in mind the phrase "a healthy dose of cynicism" doesn't signify to me the reflexive nay-saying it's so commonly identified with in our culture. Instead, a healthy cynicism is self-reflexive, curious and not given to extremes. Most importantly "cynicism" and "hope' are not antithetical.

It's become fashionable among those on the political right to refer to those of who worked for and supported the election of president Obama as some sort of Kool-Aid drinking cult who are anxiously waiting for Obama the "Messiah" to deliver to us our unicorns and puppies. When confronted over such ideological pigeonholing these people inevitably try and hide behind "cynicism" in an attempt to claim they reached these conclusions about Obama supporters rationally, without prejudice.

Of course nothing could be further from the truth.

When I watched those crowds at the inauguration yesterday on television I didn't see a group of glassy-eyed cultists. I saw a group of my fellow citizens wanted to be part of history; to watch our own Berlin wall fall with their own eyes.

I also saw millions of people who recognized that our nation's foreign policy over the last eight years has been a disaster, that our economy has been in terrible hands and that we cannot continue to exist as a country unless we reinstitute the rule of law vis a vis our own constitution. I saw people who want leadership grounded in reason and compassion, but who understood at the same time that even great leaders are human and given to make mistakes.

I know very few Obama supporters that wouldn't agree that Barack Obama will do things over the next few years that will me and my fellow liberals off. It's inevitable. But we also recognize that he can't do things alone, that real change is going to have to come from the bottom.

The very embodiment of healthy cynicism.

Thank You, Rosa.

If I'm sure of anything today it's that wherever Rosa is she's smiling. Thank you, Rosa for making today possible. Thank you for your courage to take those steps towards the front of that bus. Thank you for pushing America to be America.

"Let America be America Again" by Langston Hughes

Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed-- Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There's never been equality for me, Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars. I am the red man driven from the land, I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek-- And finding only the same old stupid plan Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope, Tangled in that ancient endless chain Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land! Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need! Of work the men! Of take the pay! Of owning everything for one's own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil. I am the worker sold to the machine. I am the Negro, servant to you all. I am the people, humble, hungry, mean-- Hungry yet today despite the dream. Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers! I am the man who never got ahead, The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream In the Old World while still a serf of kings, Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true, That even yet its mighty daring sings In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned That's made America the land it has become. O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas In search of what I meant to be my home-- For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore, And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea, And torn from Black Africa's strand I came To build a "homeland of the free."

The free?

Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we've dreamed And all the songs we've sung And all the hopes we've held And all the flags we've hung, The millions who have nothing for our pay-- Except the dream that's almost dead today.

O, let America be America again-- The land that never has been yet-- And yet must be--the land where every man is free. The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME-- Who made America, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose-- The steel of freedom does not stain. From those who live like leeches on the people's lives, We must take back our land again, America!

O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me, And yet I swear this oath-- America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death, The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies, We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain-- All, all the stretch of these great green states-- And make America again!

Don't they ever stop migrating?

Public Enemy Number One

No. But it wasn't a dream... it was a place. And you, and you, and you, and you were there.

BAC taggity tagged me with a the "Six Random Things About Me" meme.

The Rules

1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them.
5. Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

Six random things about me-

1) When I was ten a friend's mom stabbed me in the ass with a pitchfork. she had a bit of a drinking problem.

2) On a date in high school I once drove my VW Rabbit into a puddle so deep it killed the engine. We had to wade to shore.

3) I love cashews.

4) My favorite gift as a child was the "Gunfight at OK Corral" game where you shot marbles at your opponent's little man, trying to dislodge his little gunfighter. I wanted this so badly and was overjoyed when I got it.


5) When visiting some buddies in the seminary they took me on a tour of the secret antiquities stored there. Besides the gold crosses and saint's bones they had a collection of the preserved carcasses of deformed animals (two-headed calves, etc.) that would make Ripley proud.

6) While getting married and having kids is up there on the list, I still consider the greatest day of my life the time my friends and I began drinking early in the morning and went on a joyous, crazy bender that included breaking into the zoo and facing down a cop.

I share the love with...

Lockwood
Liberality
Swinebread
Okjimm
Pissed Off Patricia
Randal (of course.)

No. No, you can't get away. From hell's heart, I stab at thee. For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee.

Farewell to Ricardo Montalban who leaves at the age of 88.

He was one of those old-school actors who conveyed gravity just by the timber of his voice. I hope they find him a nice casket lined with fine, Corinthean leather.