Archive for June, 2011

The Supreme Court of the United Commercial Zones of America has struck another blow for economic interests and against common sense and decency.

Ruling: The evil ole State of California cannot prohibit the sale of violent video games to minors.

Rationale: Children have been exposed to gore, horror, violence, and all sorts of mayhem since days of yore in the form of children’s fairy tales. What’s good for Hansel and Gretel is good for Dick and Jane.

Translation: There are big bucks involved in the development, production, distribution, and sale of violent video games. Who gives a crap if some geeky little snot learns how to stuff a red hot poker up one or more of mommy’s orifices? It’s just good, clean fun. Ask the Evil Queen in Snow White. Dancing on red hot coals is good exercise.

Constitutional basis: Freedom of Screech under the First Amendment to the Constitution

Critique: What a bunch of certifiable loonies. Now, suddenly, fairy tales become legal precedents. And they aren’t even American fairy tales, for crying out loud. What’s next? Cave drawings from the Neander Valley in Germany?

Recommendation: Change the acronym of SCOTUS. The pronunciation of it sounds vaguely like an explosive release of over active swamp gas.


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Rick Perry, the Governor of Texas, said recently that he may run for President. When I read the headline, I asked myself, “Why do the nuttiest of the nutty always want to be President?”

After my mind settled down, I figured out his motive. He wants Texas to secede from the Union. He wants to be in charge of the secession so he can rake in some bucks and head for Switzerland before the world collapses. Good thinking, Ricky.

As a newly-minted Texan, I have news for Rick. He has no chance of winning the Republican nomination much less an election for the presidency.

First of all, the world beyond Texas is scary. It’s populated with all kinds of people, gays, promiscuous women, crooked politicians, predatory bankers and other assorted monetary thieves, religious fanatics like Episcopalians, shouting heads such as Chris Matthews, and the University of Arkansas football team, a conglomeration of cast-off Texas high school football heroes who failed to make third team at UT, waiting to beat the crap out of the Longhorns.

The second and most important reason Rick doesn’t have a chance in national politics is a small matter of gender. For the first time in the history of the Grumpy old Puritans (thanks Renaissance Lady for the label), women are playing a paramount role in national presidential politics.

Michelle Bachman would shred Rick’s ego in any debate about who’s further to the right. Michelle has credentials Rick doesn’t even know exist, like a keen eye for the history of the Constitutional rights of Wisconsin cheese. Beat that, Ricky.

And don’t forget Sarah Palin. Sarah can see the USSR from her front porch, unless she’s moved to Arizona recently where she hopes to bring enlightenment to the population and solve the food shortage by teaching the fine citizens of AZ how to catch salmon with a 30-ought six. What’s your solution, Rick? Replace the mechanical bull with a mechanical Coho or sockeye?

On top of the preceding, there is now a Texans against Perry Facebook page.

All told, the cards are stacked against you, Rick. I see only one road to a successful presidential run. Toss your hat in the ring for the Office of President of United Fruit Company.

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The wrath of hell is probably going to descend on me from unlikely directions. My liberal friends, who purport to be without bias, will call me a conservative, a turncoat, a traitor, an un-American lout, and worse.

My conservative friends, who make no bones about their biases, are going to label me a liberal, a turncoat, a traitor, an un-American weasel, and worse.

What is it about me that will drive them into a frenzy?

I admire Sarah Palin. At least, I admire one facet of her character.

I don’t admire her because she’s knowledgeable. She doesn’t know anything about anything. She thinks Paul Revere made his midnight ride to warn the British. Her ignorance is exceeded only by her determination to remain in that state.

I don’t admire her because she has an intuitive understanding of foreign policy. She once pointed out that she could see Russia from her front porch as an example of her foreign policy expertise. I’d be willing to bet that she has listed the University of Hawaii at Hilo as Foreign Schooling on her record of educational attainments

I don’t admire her for her stick-to-it-ive-ness. She has none. When the going gets tough, she gets going. She resigned her position as the Governor of Alaska almost before she got started. I heard a rumor that she wanted to try her hand one more time in the Miss Alaska Pageant.

My admiration for Sarah lies in her ability to drive the mainstream media nuts. She ignores them, and if there is anything that will reduce a talking head to a gibbering jabberwocky, it’s anyone who simply fails to respond to stupid media questions.

She put it on the line in her first Vice Presidential debate when she said clearly that she was going to answer the questions the people wanted answered instead of the vacuous questions of the moderator. For obvious reasons, I think you know why she didn’t use the word vacuous.

And now, she’s embarked on a bus campaign without providing the media with advance information about her routing and schedule. That takes balls, and it ties in closely with my Open Saloon (?) submission in answer to the question: Who is your sexiest man alive? My answer was, of course, Sarah. Much to Open Saloon’s shame, my brilliance went unnoticed by the editors.

I stand by my assessment, however. Sarah may be so far to the right that she’s hanging on the edge of the Earth by her polished fingernails, but she’s a gutsy girl who, for all of her nuttiness, stands out in a field of pallid rightwing Republican presidential candidates.

In contrast to the the current crop of Republican presidential hopefuls, she doesn’t hesitate to call out the mainstream media for asking stupid questions. Too bad she doesn’t call out Faux News as well.

Note: I’ve referred to “Stupid Media Questions” many times over the years. What, you may wonder, is a stupid media question? Any question the media asks would be my answer. But to clarify the matter, here’s a simple example.

Talking Head: Senator, your opponent has called you a rotten no-good sonuvabitch who recently murdered your wife in order to collect a million dollar insurance policy payout. Tell the 40 million Americans who are watching us at this very instant, Senator, “Did you murder your wife?”

I’ll leave the Senator’s response to your imagination.

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This should be a time of excitement for me and in many ways it is. I’ll soon leave Hawaii for a new life elsewhere. I’ve always looked forward to changes like this with great hope. This time is no different.

At the same time, I feel a deep sadness at leaving a home my wife and I raised three daughters in. There are many memories in this house, enough to last a lifetime.

It isn’t a house alone, though, that makes a family. A house is merely a man-made structure, the modern equivalent of a caveman’s natural dwelling.

A house needs people in it.  I’ve always felt strongly that I could be happy anywhere if I were with someone I love.

When my wife passed away, I found living alone intolerable. I finally decided to sell the house and take my chances somewhere else.

The choices are many, daughters scattered all over the country and assorted relatives up and down the Bay Area and in other parts of the West Coast. I am familiar with all of the areas where kin folk live and in many other places without relatives.

But familiarity doesn’t necessarily translate into liking. We can be familiar with a place and yet thoroughly dislike it. We can also be unfamiliar with a place and think we may like it.

That’s how I felt about the Carson Valley running South of Reno through towns like Carson City, Minden, and Gardnerville.

The Carson Valley is a lush farming and ranching area in the shadow of the Sierra Nevada mountain range. The small towns I mention are both historic and modern. Minden has become a preferred retirement area for retirees primarily from California, or as the locals call them, “Calis,” used derisively to describe anyone from anywhere who has moved into the area and driven up real estate prices.

Be that as it may, Minden is a hop skip and a jump from Lake Tahoe if you don’t mind driving straight up the Eastern escarpment of the Sierras.

And that is what we did on a recent trip to Reno. We drove south from Reno, down the length of the Carson Valley, through Carson City and Minden and almost straight up to Tahoe. It was a beautiful drive and Minden was everything I imagined it would be.

The only hitch in my Carson Valley living plan is an almost insurmountable one: no family. None, nil, Nada. So much for Eastern Nevada.

At any rate, I finally decided on a temporary base of operations near a daughter from which I could take my time and check out some locations where other relatives live.

I don’t know how things will turn out. I’ve been seriously thinking about buying a cheap condo in a couple or three different places, if there is such a thing as a cheap anything. That way I can spend a few months here, a few months there, and a few months over yonder.

One thing I know for sure. I’ll continue to write this blog. San Francisco is my favorite city in the whole world. If I had the money, I’d buy a place there and hang around City Hall. The politics of the City are intriguing to the nth degree.

But right now, I’m on hold, waiting for the closing, the day I give my keys to the buyer and he gives me the money. After that, no matter what I eventually decide on, I’ll flutter around like a bird looking for its nest.

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