Chief Justice Rhenquist just made his first public appearance since the announcement that he has an aggressive form of thyroid cancer. I hardly recognized him.
I can’t say that I’ve ever been a fan of Rhenquists. I don’t care much for his positions in most legal matters, but I’ve always respected his mind. Sadly, I don’t think it will be with us much longer, although his rulings most certainly will.
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With so much hooplah surrounding today’s inauguration ceremonies, I just hope that the biggest thing there is to bitch about is the expense. Judge Gladys Kessler, a Clinton appointee, better be hoping the same thing, too.
As the nation’s capital prepares itself for the presidential inauguration by going into lockdown mode and placing portable Stinger missile launchers throughout the city, Americans may be stunned to learn that the District of Columbia has been forced by a federal judge to hand over intelligence data on police tactics, training, and strategies from the last inauguration to an organization [International Action Center] with documented ties to terrorist groups and Saddam Hussein.[...]
IAC founder and director Ramsey Clark recently made worldwide headlines when he joined Saddam Hussein’s defense team. The IAC boasts of having a relationship to the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) and the National Liberation Army — both of which are labeled terrorist groups by the State Department. The International Action Center has sent delegations to meet with FARC soldiers and leaders in the Colombian jungle and lauds their military victories, including “spectacular raids” on U.S.-trained battalions. Last November Colombia’s defense minister claimed that FARC had targeted President Bush for assassination.
The IAC filed suit against the government (International Action Center, et al., v. United States of America, et al., Case no. 01CV00072) is based on First Amendment issues, specifically the use of police lines to cordon off protesters at the 2001 ceremonies and the alleged use of “agents provocateurs.”
Read more at Argghhh!
Most smokers, accustomed to being social pariahs, have a handful of snappy comebacks to those anti-smoking crusaders who assault us whenever we light up. I always like to point out that smoking is an anti-social habit, so why the hell are they interrupting my private time? Another one of my favorites: “What’re you bitching about? It’s killing me!” Now, though, I’m just going to tell them: “Why don’t you move to Bhutan?”
The tiny, trendy Himalayan kingdom recently became the world’s first nonsmoking nation. Since Dec. 17, it has been illegal to smoke in public or sell tobacco. Violators are fined the equivalent of $232 — more than two months’ salary in Bhutan. Authorities heralded the ban by igniting a bonfire of cigarette cartons in the capital, Thimphu, and stringing banners across the main thoroughfare, exhorting people to kick the habit. As if they have a choice.
A bonfire of cigarette cartons. Now that’s some second-hand smoke.
Disclaimer
First: For the self-righteous anti-smoking prigs who will inundate my InBox regardless of this disclaimer, let me just remind you that I have a delete button and I’m not afraid to use it. Second: No, we don’t smoke in the house or while driving with our kids in the car, because that would expose our children to our bad habits, and we fully believe in letting them pick their own. Third: Don’t bother with the “second-hand smoke is dangerous!” comments because, no matter how cool technology has become, there’s no way in hell that my cigarette is affecting you. Thanks.
- The Management
On several occasions, my husband has described me as the smartest person he knows (and I have witnesses). Now, thanks to an email from Todd, I know why.
UPDATE: The news just keeps getting better!
Scientists at Okayama University in Japan have rather agreeably discovered that unidentified compounds in lager and stout may help to prevent DNA damage leading to cancer.
Some cancers are apparently provoked by heterocyclic amines – “DNA-damaging chemicals found in cooked meat and fish”, New Scientist reports. The university team fed mice these compounds, and then noted that “the DNA damage to their liver, lungs and kidneys was reduced by up to 85 per cent if the mice drank non-alcoholic beer instead of water.”
Lead boffin Sakae Arimoto-Kobayashi reckons the beer-borne chemicals “prevent the amines binding to and damaging DNA.” Naturally, if they can pinpoint the beneficial compounds in question, brewers will be able to concoct cancer-battling superbrews.
The Carnival of the Vanities #122 is up at the People’s Republic of Seabrook and, once again, it’s filled with the best of the worst in the ‘sphere!
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For two weeks, I have been coughing up golf ball-sized globs of phlegm, blowing gallons of snot out my nose and sounding like Fran Drescher doing Marlon Brando doing The Godfather. I think I might be sick.
So today, I abandoned my plans to head to the library, to check out a gym down the road, and to go to the grocery store. I managed to haul myself from the bed to the toilet to the sofa, and here I am, exhausted and trying to rest up for the big trek to the kitchen where we keep the TheraFlu.
This, of course, means that I’m stuck watching daytime TV. Which sucks.
Like so many things, I remember daytime television being much better during my childhood. I only had four channels to choose from, but I was always able to find an Abbot & Costello movie or, if I was really lucky, one starring Bob Hope and Bing Crosby. I saw “Guys and Dolls” — one of my favorite musicals — in the third grade when I stayed home sick with strep throat. Later that night at the dinner table, I confessed to having a crush on Frank Sinatra and was shocked when my mother confessed to sharing my crush.
By the time I was ten, I’d seen about every Elvis movie ever made. He died that year, and despite being a child, I shared in the world’s sense of loss. Of course, there was never a shortage of M*A*S*H* re-runs or “I Love Lucy” episodes that came on-air right as I walked in the door after school. Sometimes I had a hard time choosing between them and Mary Tyler Moore or All In The Family, so usually I’d sit close enough to the TV that I could switch the knob back and forth between channels. That’s probably why I wear contact lenses now.
I loved daytime television programming. It was the stuff at night that sucked back then. Oh, there were a few good evening shows: Sonny and Cher, Happy Days, Alice. But, for the most part, I never trusted evening programming after experiencing cognitive dissonance when I saw Richard Dawson, sans his Corporal Newkirk outfit, hosting “Family Feud.”
My, how times have changed.
Today, despite having over 100 channels to watch, there’s not a damn thing on TV during the day. Sure, Lifetime runs Golden Girls twice, but you have to suffer through an hour of The Nanny to catch them both. The Nanny. That’s enough to make anyone sick. And I really don’t consider myself old enough to spend my days watching Matlock or Columbo, although both are better than Unsolved Mysteries.
But what happened to Abbot & Costello? To the Three Stooges? To Bob and Bing, Fred and Ginger, Marilyn and Jane? What idiot decided that Judge Hackett, Judge Judy and Judge Brown were more entertaining than them? And when the hell did they replace 3 p.m. cartoons and “After School Specials” with Jerry Springer, Dr. Phil and Jane Pauley?
I am convinced that, if anything is responsible for the moral decline of America’s youth, it’s daytime television programming. Now when kids stay home sick — a prime time for indoctrination, what with them helpless and all — they aren’t exposed to 8 solid hours of uplifting, wholesome entertainment delivering a moral message. Instead, they watch People’s Court and Divorce Court where those with the messiest, most problematic personal lives are the “stars” and the “moral” is “Winners are losers who lie well.”
Growing up, I had Beaver and Opie as models of how children are supposed to behave. Sure, I thought they were a little too goody-goody at times, but I watched them and I remembered to say “Please and Thank you” and to respond to my elders with a polite “Yes, Ma’am” or “Yes, Sir.” Now, when I talk about the “good ol’ days” of kid-oriented shows, my daughter thinks I’m referring to brats like Steve Urkel or Kimmie Gibler, who were always quick with a smart-assed one-liner, and equally quick to remind adults that it was against the law to slap the smirk off their big mouths.
So, this is what I think hell will be like: television screens as far as the eye can see, all tuned to the same channel from which spews forth an endless stream of infomercials interspersed with Judge Matthis, Pokemon and Charmed. Oh, wait, that’s what The WB is already airing every single day.
Behold, the end is near.
Anticipating the May 19 opening of “Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith”, toy maker Hasbro has released “Darth Tater”, which comes complete with light saber, helmet and cape. Really!
To repeat for the liberals who didn’t hear it over the sound of their whining: private money is paying for the costs of the President’s inauguration.
But there’s one expense that we taxpayers will have to foot the bill for: the cost of defending against Michael Newdow’s lawsuit seeking to bar prayer during the inauguration ceremony. Frankly, I think it’s worth it if it means Kathleen can continue to write like this.
