If you aren't solid as a rock you will sink like a stone

Break out the Justin Timberlake CD because down in Georgia they are bringing Saxby back. The GOP pundits are dancing with their best White Man Overbite moves to celebrate the fact the Democrats now won’t have the desirable filibuster proof 60 seats in the Senate of the United States. Well buster, I have news for you. Like Charlie Daniels famed antagonist, the devil is in the details and here is why it doesn’t matter at all that the Republican won in Georgia.

For those of you not in the United States or if you live here but have forgotten your Civics lessons, here is a very brief and oversimplified explanation of why people feel 60 Senate seats is a magical number. One of the two parts of our Legislative branch of government is the Senate and there are 100 Senators (two from each state) in it. They pass their portion of laws by a majority vote. When a bill is being debated it comes to a vote after a cloture motion. If there is resistance, the minority can “filibuster”. That means they continue the discussion; sometimes for days, weeks or as long as San Francisco mayor Gavin “I look like the killer in the movie American Psycho” Newsom. If there are 60 votes for cloture, the ability to filibuster is overruled and the bill goes to vote. With 60 seats belonging to the Democratic Party there would be no way the Republicans could stop anything their opponents would want to push through.

I’ve got news for the media, the pundits, the GOP and the Democrats. The magic number is not 60. Assuming hell doesn’t’ freeze over or the Satans in the Senate don’t chime in, the magic number is 1. If Al “I was never really that funny or talented” Franken loses in the no holds barred, no suddenly found vote left uncounted contest in chilly Minnesocold, the number is 2.

For you see the 60 vote minimum assumes all Democrats and all Republicans will vote with their party. History indicates that is highly unlikely. For the 60 to be filibuster proof, the Harry Reid led party would have to hold to a unified position while holding their noses to avoid smelling the citizenry while they pass their stinking laws.

The idea of thinking either party will vote as a block on every issue makes about as much sense as the Big 3 Auto CEOs thinking their publicity stunt of driving to Washington, DC in Hybrids to beg for more money will be seen as anything other than exactly that; a publicity stunt. Republicans have in their ranks centrist and liberals like Olympia Snowe, Susan Collins, Gordon Smith and Arlen Specter who vote with the Democrats more often than with their own party.

Republican Senators take heed. For you to have any chance of stopping the Democrats from steamrolling through you faster than rumor flies through Facebook you best hold arms tighter than Mrs. Leary’s second grade class in the finals of Red Rover. Hold the line.

People complain that the filibuster is but the minority party’s way to stop government action. I fail to see the problem with that. Government inaction is much better than government in action.


S2

I am ready for my close up Mr. Terrorist

News flash: Most of reality television sucks.

I know, call me Mr. Obvious.

News flash II: People still watch this tripe!

Its rise in popularity was all but destined given the desire for 15 minutes of Andy Warholian fame that many people in this country have. It isn’t even limited to the porous northern and southern borders that the United Sates protects as effectively as sun block level 2 on a Mexican Beach in August. It is a world wide problem.

Shows like Big Brother, Temptation Island, Survivor and the Big Kahuna American Idol take mostly no talent, no class and no clue narcissists and thrust them on the American populace and into instant and thankfully short-lived fame. I may get voted off the island for saying so but most of the winners of American Idol have no more talent than can be seen at Karaoke night in a dozen bars across town on a Friday night; although the beer in my living room is a lot cheaper.

Each season these supposedly unscripted bits of entertainment brilliance seem to try to showcase more bizarre, more extreme and more salacious people and events to hold our attention rapt in voyeuristic anticipation. The writers are like my dog after the postman drops a letter through the mail slot; they want to see just how far they can push the envelope. Unfortunately, they are doing it with about as much care and forethought to consequence as my Chow Lab mix takes with each new issue of People Magazine. It wasn’t until I saw a similar issue at the dentist’s office that I realized Nicole Kidman doesn’t always have drool on her face…and that Rosy O’Donnell does.

There have been articles, books and even movies predicting that reality shows will continue to devolve until the science fiction world of televised game show executions that currently exist only in the mind of Richard “can I call you Steven” Bachman become all too real. Unfortunately these shows are cash cows and they, like the extra fee for your checked baggage that was to offset the no longer outrageous fuel costs for airlines, won’t be going away anytime soon.

The same can’t be said of the news division. The networks need a way to pay for these cash…umm…what is the opposite of cow? The networks need to pay for these cash leeches (that is right in so many ways) that are the nightly newscasts. It is only recently that the networks began looking to news as a potential profit center. The networks pay huge sums of money to keep the likes of Katie perky and these also supposedly unscripted, unmanufactured and, really now, unbiased shows on the air.

News programs are not immune to sliding a few paper letter containers around either. I heard rumor that Brian Williams has “If it bleeds, it leads” tattooed on his right buttock. If it involves tragedy, no story is out of bounds.

It is at the intersection where unfeeling and uncaring reporters meet unthinking and “no longer wanting to be” unknowns where the traffic light of reason has burnt out. The most recent execution spree by the “religion of peace” adherents in India is a perfect example.

Two stories, one with an unsurprising tragic end have come to light.

The Shaws are a South Wales, UK couple who were trapped in one of the hotels. Their tale of danger is punctuated with this quote from the now media shy Mrs.

“The terrorists were watching CNN and they came down from where they were in a lift after hearing about us on television. For that reason I would appeal to the media to be very careful about what they broadcast.”

Hey lady, how about being careful who you talk to?

Sadly, the second story does have a tragic ending. A British business man, shortly after talking to the BBC was texting his son when suddenly the texts stopped. His body was later recovered.

While I feel for the family of Mr. Liveras I can’t help but wonder what the hell he was thinking. Have we come to a point where personal safety takes a back seat to cable TV exposure? How soon will it be until other survivors of this ungodly in the name of Allah act begin making the rounds to Oprah, Tyra, Ellen and Larry? If I were in that same situation, I would like to think that I’d be spending my time trying to figure out how to introduce as many of the cowardly gunmen to their promised stable of virgin camels in as painful a way as possible. If I needed to reach out and text someone, it would be to a S.W.A.T. sniper with directions to the closest Jihadist’s head along with wind speed and elevation and not to an info babe at CNN or the BBC!

As evidenced in India, fame can be fleeting. If you are going to stick your head out for no other reason than to get noticed, some less than human may just cut it off. If you feel the need to seek fame, make the reason for that fame worthwhile. If you do that, soon those being noticed will have a noticeably better affect on everyone.

S2

Hail, hail the gangs got beer.

My head has been spinning all day. Not the fun kind of post party lay down on the bed and hope your dinner stays firmly on course toward your thighs rather than spew on your new sheets kind of spinning. That would be welcome. No, it is spinning from a day of imbibing in software that doesn’t want to play nice and now my cup of frustration runneth over. So, drink in hand, I invite you to raise a glass in a toast to… alcohol.

Now that we’ve filled out paunches to the brink with turkey the Holiday season can officially begin. That doesn’t mean as much here in Utah as in some other areas of the civilized world but we have our share of booze related news stories. Just like every other year, I hope I am not the subject of one of them.

Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.
-Benjamin Franklin

I have a few words of advice for those of you thinking of having a bit of the social sauce this season: drink heavily. If you are just a bit tipsy when you do the stupid thing you invariably will do, you will have to own up to your actions. If you are really marinated in martini, all bets are off and the world is your olive.

Case in point: At last week’s University of Minnesota football game, two visitors from the corn fields of Iowa evidently consumed a bit too much of some corn malt. So much so that these two strangers, after bumping in to each other in the line to the bathroom, decided to keep bumping in to each other in a stall in the men’s room. Since the Gophers had a huge lead over the Hawkeyes and the game firmly in hand, a crowd gathered around the stall to see what the Iowans had, umm, firmly in hand. After a bit the police came and threw a bit of cold water on the rutting lushes and cited them for indecent conduct.

Fast forward to today and the sobered up Hawkette now claims there must have been something fishy going on. It couldn’t be the large amount of wine this teetotaler consumed in her all day binge. Somehow this stranger spiked her drink and new she’d be in line with him. I buy that one hook, lime and chaser.

It must be something in the water and whiskey in the north central U.S. Minnesota, Iowa and Wisconsin are three of the top four in boozing it up in the United States. So it isn't surprising that in Wisconsin a nurse recently had her license revoked for being drunk in the operating room, twice. I guess the first diagnosis required a second opinion. The details aren’t completely out but I am sure it wasn’t her fault. I guess nobody told her the alcohol in the sterilization room was meant for the equipment.

Before you write that nasty email I know you are about to type, take a deep breathalyzer, sober up and wait a minute. I know there truly is such a thing as alcoholism and that it is a serious disease. There’s also being a stupid drunk and getting caught.

These days personal responsibility has gone the way of the three martini lunch: it is still out there somewhere but we don’t talk about it much. Who is to blame for this? My guess is George Bush. He is a recovering alcoholic remember. I know because I was one of the four people who saw Oliver Stone’s movie. Well, I saw the trailer at least.

Really, the blame goes to all of us in society who don’t have the ice cubes to point out when someone is being self-destructive at the worst or just an idiot at the least. Movie stars only have to stagger in to the nearest spa when the paparazzi point out they’ve been popping a few too many bottle caps in the paper. Mel Gibson, Lindsay Lohan and Heather Locklear are but a few recent examples. Any of you going to an Amy Winehouse concert, do her a favor and take her glass away.



If you are like me and most of your friends’ talent wouldn’t make for a good You Tube video, you don’t have the luxury of the rehab solution. We have to mix it up ourselves.

I will make you a deal. I will make sure you leave the lampshade firmly on the bulb if you make sure my pants are still on when I get in the cab you called.

Much of what’s happening today could drive one to drink. Just be careful of who you talk to in the restroom. Especially with the conflicting messages being sent by religious leaders. Like this, or this.

S2