Unsolicited Advice For The Post Scalia Era

I rarely agreed with Justice Antonin Scalia but he had a remarkably influential career, and was one of the dominant figures on the Supreme Court for the last thirty years. He served under three Chief Justices but was the Justice who pushed the court to the right and made originalism/textualism a factor in the nation’s jurisprudence. His opinions were noteworthy, not only for how wrong he was, but for the lively language he used. Clerks draft most of the opinions but Scalia’s dissents seemed to be written by the Justice himself. I must confess to enjoying some of his most scathing dissents, especially when he revived arcane phrases: jiggery-pokery was my personal favorite.

Now that I’ve praised Scalia, I’m glad that we’re burying him. There are a series of important cases that would have pushed the law even further to the right that now look like 4-4 draws. It will be interesting to see how the other Supremes handle these cases. They can put them on hold or allow the lower court rulings to stand. In either event, an eight person Supreme Court isn’t good for the country, which is one of many reasons to be glad the President plans to nominate a replacement some time soon.

It’s obvious that the GOP controlled Senate is going to either slow walk or put in the deep freeze any nomination put forward by President Obama. They’re hoping to win the 2016 election and put a Scalia clone on the court. Ordinarily, I’d give them a 50-50 shot at denying the Dems a third consecutive term but the wild rhetoric in the GOP primary race makes a loss more likely than not. Usually, the Republicans are slyer about calling their opponents liars, leaving the dirty work to surrogates. Slyness has gone by the wayside in the era of the Insult Comedian and Tailgunner Ted. They have the perfect stealth wingnut candidate in John Kasich but he’s not extreme enough for the current GOP; a scary thought given how far to Reagan’s right the Ohio Governor is.

The politics of this situation favor the Democrats. Once again, the Republicans are about to do something only their base could love in giving us an eight Justice court for a year.  It’s irresponsible and makes them look incapable of governing. Of course, their base doesn’t give a shit because they hate guvmint so much but it’s the sort of thing that will alienate Independents and sane Republicans.

You’re probably wondering when I was going to offer POTUS unsolicited advice. Here we go. Slate’s Dahlia Lithwick has compiled a list of Supreme Court candidates and it’s a good one. BUT I have long thought that someone who is NOT a federal judge should be nominated. The Clinton administration has been under attack this year but its Supreme Court appointments were stellar: Ginsburg and Breyer. It was the one that got away that intrigues me. Bill Clinton wanted to nominate a politician to the court and zeroed in on his frenemy Mario Cuomo. But Cuomo was a classic New Yorker who didn’t want to live anywhere else and declined. Twas a pity.

Some of the most distinguished Justices in our history were never judges of any kind before becoming Supremes. The list is staggering: Frankfurter, Black, Douglas, Jackson, Brandeis, and Warren to name a few 20th Century examples. The Warren example was the key to Clinton’s thinking: he’d been California Attorney General, Governor, and Tom Dewey’s running mate in 1948. Warren’s personal and political skills helped unite a fractious court and produced a unanimous decision in Brown vs. Board of Education.

In addition to the Super Chief, there were two outstanding Chief Justices who had been senior Republican pols: Charles Evans Hughes and William Howard Taft. Hughes was the GOP’s 1916 nominee and later secretary of state. Taft, of course, was the 27th President. I’m not sure if there are any candidates of that stature that the sitting President could name but I have some unsolicited advice for the next Democratic President. There’s a man with a calm judicial temperament who used to teach constitutional law at the University of Chicago and would become only the third African-American Justice in our history: Barack Obama.

I realize that’s very unlikely to happen, but I’ve been imbued with the trollish, puckish side of the late Justice Scalia and cannot help myself. We could do a lot worse and if the Republicans win the White House, we certainly will.

 

I’m Done With All Your Hillary and Bernie Feelings, Internet

TED CRUZ WANTS TO SET THE WORLD ON FIRE.

Genuinely, I think he does. I think he wants to bring about the end times. I think he is living in a comic book and none of the rest of us are real to him.

Marco Rubio is six years old and he keeps thinking if he talks faster and louder it will make him sound smarter. Debate moderators ask him why his own people think he sucks, and he yells about his Lord and Savior.

Jeb Bush once ruined an entire family’s life just to make points with the Jesus freaks over Terri Schaivo, and the freaks are not even voting for him now. Like, think of that. You mortgage your soul for someone, and they’re like, “Ick, get away.”

I don’t know what to worry about more, that Donald Trump is gonna pick somebody for his VP that he has already publicly called a giant shitlord who will then sink him from within, or that he’s gonna choose a military dude like Petraeus. Then he’ll win, and quit, leaving us with a morally dyslexic G.I. Joe in charge.

ANY ONE OF THEM gets to appoint Supreme Court justices, as Sainted Dead Scalia reminded us last night, and Notorious RBG ain’t gonna live forever. If we make her deal with one more Republican president, she would be well within her rights to give the concept of existence on this planet the finger.

So if I read one more thinkpiece about ageism, sexism, Bernie-ism and who isn’t respecting who enough online, I will send this whole Internet to bed without supper. I have a Mom Voice now. I can do that.

I mean, dear God. IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU, writers. It’s not about you. It’s not about you, people who have time to be penning this or that for a publication that exists to explicate the zeitgeist or whatever. God damn, what is happening in this country right now during this political campaign, it is not about you.

Some of the things being said at and near Bernie’s fans remind me of how I was treated as a young person at my first paying gig: You’re only 22 so nothing you say is legit, like call us when you grow up. Some of the things being said at and near Hillary remind me viscerally of how I was treated the last time I asked for a raise at my job: You need to be nicer because that matters more than any other skill you have. 

Some of the things being said to younger and older voters are making me ragey and some of them are making me sad and you know what those feelings of mine, those deep and real feelings mean to a bunch of people in Flint, Mich. whose kids have been poisoned by lead in the year of our Lord Jesus Christ Two Thousand Sixteen?

FUCK.

ALL.

There was a Democratic debate Thursday night or during the Super Bowl or whenever, and two candidates on stage — a Jew and a woman, both the first of those groups to win major primaries — were discussing their responses to systemic racism. Systemic. Racism. They were discussing institutionalized hatred of black people and the dehumanization of them by the government.

Yes, later John Lewis and Bernie Sanders supporters snapped at each other on Twitter and yes, Hillary could not get away with having a prominent supporter who goes by “Killer Mike” because of sexism. But at that debate OUR PARTY HAD A GODDAMN DISCUSSION ABOUT FIXING RACISM.

The Republicans, at their debate last night, were fighting over who gets to hold the fire hoses and unleash the German Shepherds. 

And not for nothing, but a few weeks ago we had a sitting U.S. Goddamn President name of Barack Hussein Obama who spoke not tentatively, not neutrally, not cautiously but ADMIRINGLY of the courage of young gay men and women living their lives as full citizens of the United States. He PRAISED THEM. As role models not just to other gay people but to everybody, in front of a joint session of Congress, behind a fucking podium with a seal on it, to thunderous applause.

Later, at the Republican debate, a bunch of guys talked about if we could put Don’t Ask Don’t Tell back into effect somehow and make everybody forget if Gunny Highway likes dudes and stack the Supreme Court with people who will go around forcibly divorcing every gay married couple on earth.

The differences between Bernie and Hillary are real (see Kissinger, Henry and Dead, Why Isn’t He Yet) and explanations of them are welcome and necessary. But the constant online whining about behavior of campaign supporters towards one another and the over-identification with the candidates personally* is starting to feel like therapy for the comfortable commentator class. Maybe we’re forgetting that BEN CARSON DOESN’T KNOW WHAT THE DEBT CEILING IS..

It is starting to remind me of 2003 when Yes Hippies Are Right But They Smell, or 2004 when Yes Democrats Are Right But The Midterms. I do not want to see President Trump elected so that all U.S. progressives can Suck On This for not supporting Bernie. I do not want somebody else’s kids to fight three more wars so We Can Learn Something This Time It Serves Us Right for not supporting Hillary. We who are here to type stuff into the Internet don’t get to write checks for other people’s asses to cash.

I am supposed to be freaking out right now because calling someone a Bernie Bro is reductive and mean and makes you less likely to vote Hillary? I will call you anything you WANT, okay? What do you want me to call you so we can get some work done? I am sorry I was born after Roe v Wade but I’ve had by conservative estimate 37 transvaginal ultrasounds, so if I give you a pin commemorating the fight to make abortion legal can we please elect Bernie to stick a probe up Scott Walker’s bunghole?

President Bernie, President Hillary, are not going to lead-poison our children to save a few bucks and then be all LET’S NOT TELL ANYBODY when they get a memo about the poisoning. They’re not going to make cracks about turning Syria into a glowstick and they’re not gonna slap their junk on Putin’s dinner table and they’re not gonna forget where China is or whatever it was Trump did last week. They’re not going to punish poor women by faux-investigating the only medical clinics that give a shit if those women live or die.

I want a woman president, maybe this woman. I want a non-Christian president, maybe this dude. I would rather have CLAIRE as president than any combination of any of the Republicans currently running and I’m sincerely afraid that we might not survive a couple of them. Far too many of the things I’m reading lately are forgetting that soon and very soon that will be the fight we’ll have to have.

At that point the therapy sessions will be over, and not a moment too soon. So work for your chosen candidate. But don’t confuse that work with the kind you need to do on your psyche, because the latter you can get done on your own goddamn time.

A.

*Call me, John Kerry, you are 8 feet tall and it still charms me senseless.

“Obsession” special – vaffanculo fool-o

OK folks – I’m calling for a pre-emptive strike on Freeperville.

Why?

Oh, I dunno – maybe that they have well and truly LOST THEIR FUCKING MINDS!

Senior U.S. Supreme Court Associate Justice Antonin Scalia found dead at West Texas ranch
My San Antonio ^ | Updated 3:53 pm, Saturday, February 13, 2016 | Gary Martin

Posted on ‎2‎/‎13‎/‎2016‎ ‎3‎:‎55‎:‎56‎ ‎PM by Pan_Yan

Associate Justice Antonin Scalia was found dead of apparent natural causes Saturday on a luxury resort in West Texas, federal officials said.

Scalia, 79, was a guest at the Cibolo Creek Ranch, a resort in the Big Bend region south of Marfa. According to a report, Scalia arrived at the ranch on Friday and attended a private party with about 40 people. When he did not appear for breakfast, a person associated with the ranch went to his room and found a body.

U.S. District Judge Fred Biery said he was among those notified about Scalia’s death.

“I was told it was this morning,” Biery said of Scalia’s death. “It happened on a ranch out near Marfa. As far as the details, I think it’s pretty vague right now as to how,” he said. “My reaction is it’s really unfortunate with any death. And now, politically, in the presidential cycle we’re in my educated guess is nothing will happen before the next president is elected.”

1 posted on 2‎/‎13‎/‎2016‎ ‎3‎:‎55‎:‎56‎ ‎PM by Pan_Yan

To be sure, the first few posts are devoted to hair-rending:

To: Pan_Yan

 

o dear god no the court will swing full lib now

2 posted on 2‎/‎13‎/‎2016‎ ‎3‎:‎58‎:‎51‎ ‎PM by jneesy (rough seas make skillful sailors)

To: 20yearsofinternet

 

Damn! Can we delay Obama’s appointment, whomever it may be? Will the GOP even stand up THAT much?!

6 posted on 2‎/‎13‎/‎2016‎ ‎4‎:‎02‎:‎06‎ ‎PM by austinaero

To: Pan_Yan

Complete shock.

8 posted on 2‎/‎13‎/‎2016‎ ‎4‎:‎02‎:‎45‎ ‎PM by Jane Long (Go Trump, go! Make America Safe Again :)

Tears
.
And how many posts in do you think we’ll get before the batshit crazies arrive?
To: Pan_Yan

 

Who was there? Who had ties to the WH?

12 posted on 2‎/‎13‎/‎2016‎ ‎4‎:‎03‎:‎11‎ ‎PM by Chickensoup (Leftism is the biggest killer of citizens in the world.)

Twelve posts.
Twelve.
Seven minutes after the  original post
To: Pan_Yan

 

Scalia is the man who started the investigation into Hillary.

13 posted on 2‎/‎13‎/‎2016‎ ‎4‎:‎03‎:‎23‎ ‎PM by combat_boots (The Lion of Judah cometh. Hallelujah. Gloria Patri, Filio et Spiritui Sancto!)
I had no idea that Supreme Court justices started investigations. Would that be an investigation by the Secret Supreme Court Police (the SSCP)?
.
Oh? There’s no such thing?
To: Pan_Yan

 

Pelican Brief

31 posted on 2‎/‎13‎/‎2016‎ ‎4‎:‎04‎:‎46‎ ‎PM by john316 (JOSHUA 24:15 …choose you this day whom ye will serve…)

pelican

 

The crazy (and the hair-tearing) continues after this brief (heh – get it?) intermission:

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Company Which Cannot Do Newspapers Right Says Let’s Find Something Else to Fail At!

Gannett, for fuck’s sake: 

Newspaper giant Gannett Co. is exploring the parcel-delivery business as it examines how to make the most of its fleet of paper carriers and delivery trucks, according to people familiar with the matter.

Prompted by the e-commerce boom, Gannett reached out to parcel-industry consultants as recently as December. It also had meetings and preliminary discussions with Amazon.com Inc. as it explores delivery possibilities, according to one of those people.

“We are always looking for opportunities to do back hauls or deliver packages as we are out on the roads,” that person said.

Let’s do this in order:

Gannett just noticed that the youngs like to order their things over the computer and have them delivered in parcels. IT IS THE YEAR OF OUR LORD JESUS 2016.

Who here gets their Gannett paper delivered on time on their porch when they are supposed to get it come rain or come shine? Yeah, you in the back? You’re high, go home. They cannot do their current job well. Newspapers are losing customers because they cannot get their product to those customers without it being some kind of Shackleton at the fucking Pole daylong drama involving four calls to circulation and a topographical map.

Why would they go around looking for something else to screw up? This is like the Cleveland Browns deciding to try their hand at snowboarding in the next Olympics. Like are they hoping that if they fuck up something else, nobody will notice the first fucked-up thing?

Newspaper companies such as Gannett or Tribune would face other logistical hurdles in making the change, according to former and current parcel-industry executives. They would need to develop the ability to sort, track and deliver packages on time, all of which are capital- and labor-intensive processes.

UPS cannot always get this right and THAT IS ALL THEY DO. FedEx, no matter how many times I tell them where to leave the stupid box, leaves it in the wrong place and LEAVING THE BOX SOMEWHERE IS THEIR ONLY JOB. “As long as we have trucks out there anyway” is not a business model.

Then again, they had a pretty solid business model in gathering information and giving it to people and they managed to set that one on fire, too.

Schmucks.

A.

Sunday Morning Video: Hey, Hey, We’re The Monkees

The weekend of the Monkees continues with a 1997 documentary:

Weekend Question Thread: Health Care Edition

My father is a pharmacist. Growing up, we went to the doctor when we couldn’t figure out what was wrong, when we sincerely thought we might be dying, or when we were bleeding from something that needed stitches. Everything else was taken care of at home, usually pretty adequately.

And my feeling is, why bother the doctor if I am not sick? Like there are sick sick people in the world who need the doctor’s time. Why I am I taking his or hers up if all I need is rest and fluids and stuff? When I was in the ER last week, it was because I’d screwed my back up so badly I couldn’t MOVE. Everybody there for the sniffles made me homicidal.

Mr. A finds this mindset maddening. He gets regular checkups. He has good relationships with his PC and his dentist and has every ache and pain investigated just in case. He’s not a hypochondriac, but he’s thorough.

Where do you fall on that scale?

A.

Saturday Odds & Sods: Everybody’s Got Something To Hide Except Me and My Monkey

Monkeyland

Sideshow banner by Fred G. Johnson

As much as I love Carnival, I’m always glad when it’s over. We live inside the parade box, which means we have to be cognizant of what’s going on even when the parade sucks. In short, we cannot monkey around even if it *is* the year of the monkey.

Chinese New Year was February, 8th this year, which was Lundi Gras in New Orleans. My father had many Chinese friends and business associates, which made him honorary Chinese as far as they were concerned. Dr. A’s best friend is Chinese so she has the same status. Me, I’m just a guy who loves Chinese cuisine and has never been involved in anything that remotely resembles the title of this song:

That obviously was not this week’s theme song. It was just more monkeyshines on my part. I suspect you’re used to that by now, especially on Saturdays.

This week’s theme song comes from one of my favorite records of all-time, the White Album. I was obsessed with it when I was a tadpole and Everybody’s Got Something To Hide Except Me and My Monkey is one of my favorite tracks. It beats the hell out of Revolution #9, which is also a Lennon-centric track but Monkey works. Hmm, I wonder if the monkey in question is a capuchin helper monkey?

Since we ‘re talking monkey tunes, this early Boz Scaggs song was the runner-up as title song. It’s  got a good beat, you can dance to it, but the title isn’t as good even if it’s more concise:

Now that I’ve made the odd monkey joke and posted the odd monkey tune, it’s time to get on with it and brachiate to our next segment. That’s a fancy way of saying see you after the break.

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One pill makes you larger…

Of all the things I’ve gone through this year, the one thing that always freaked me out most was medicine.

I went through a bilateral carpal tunnel surgery in October, leaving me with limited mobility and a great deal of pain. The surgeon prescribed me these pain pills that were enough to turn me into a drooling idiot. Regardless of how much pain I was in, I really tried my best to just gut it out and not take the pills.

“The doctor gave them to you for a reason,” my lovely wife would say in her best exasperated nurse voice. “Take the damned pills.”

I did when I felt I had no other choice, but for the most part, I tried like hell to avoid them.

Near Christmas, the overwhelming pressure of the life chaos I described in “Heroes Often Fail” was persisting to the point of physical and mental maladies. I waited as long as I could before I went to see the doc. She asked a bunch of questions about my mental state, pretty much coming to the conclusion I needed some level of sedation.

I protested vehemently. “I don’t want to be a zombie,” I pleaded.

She assured me that despite what I had heard about these kinds of pills, I’d be OK and I could take them whenever I felt I wanted them to smooth out the stress.

That was my problem. I was worried that I would want to and that I couldn’t stop.

Addiction is a fear of mine for reasons both simple and complex. When you grow up Catholic, the nuns basically train you that everything is a slippery slope that leads directly to hell.

That time you shook your dick twice after peeing? It’s leading to masturbation, illicit sex, prostitution, AIDS and death, in case you were wondering… That time you lied? It’s leading to you violating family trust, hocking the family silver and having to scar your fingerprints with battery acid before you go on the lam, just so’s you know…

The other reason was that addition runs in my family. My great uncle was a pharmacist, on a path to a great life, only to find out he liked prescribing himself stuff more than selling it to other people. He died basically broke and alone. My grandmother fought alcoholism her whole life, holding off the beast at the bridge for her final 25 years, even as she battled cancer to the end. Still, her life was rough until she finally became a friend of Bill W. Others in my family also have similar issues. It’s not an unreasonable thought that something might get a grip on me when I’m not paying attention.

And then there was Saturday…

I’m heading to the store to pick up a prescription for my mother-in-law when I get a text from a former student. The kid is going on 30 now and it’s been years since I had him in a classroom. He dropped out to run a bar, a nice joint I stop in at from time to time, only to leave him hints and tips that, hey, you can always come back and I’ll help you. He worked at the student paper when I was there as well, making him a great colleague as well as a nice kid.

He tells me he’s sorry he’s been out of touch and that he didn’t respond to some help I asked for and that he’s sorry if it’s shitty that he asks for a favor after that, but he’s going to ask anyway… See, his brother just died of a heroin overdose and this kid wants to know how to write an obituary for him because he doesn’t trust anyone else to do it and he is afraid he’s going to screw it up…

I felt like I got throat punched. All I could do was text back stuff like “Are you OK?” and “I’ll send you my notes when I get home.” My mind is reeling about how this guy is dealing with his sibling just dropping dead. The guy apparently was clean for three years, got mixed up in the wrong situation and took a hit.

He died. Game over. That fast.

What messed me up more was that this is the second one of my former students to lose a family member to heroin in the past year or so. A kid I absolutely adored from Mizzou had her brother die after battling the beast for a few years. It was another situation of something getting its hooks into a kid and never really letting go.

Grandma used to tell me that she never could look more than one day ahead when it came to addiction. It wasn’t something you ever “cured” or “reformed” yourself from, to use the parlance of a long-ago, ill-conceived term for addicts on the comeback. As a “make a list, cross shit off” kind of guy, that’s scary as hell. As a control freak, it’s paralyzing.

There is such a pull and tug between how we see medical issues and how we are supposedly supposed to see them. For the longest time, addiction and mental illness were viewed as simply being weak. The reason you couldn’t get off the bottle? You were a pussy who needed man up and dry out and learn how to hold your liquor. The reason you were depressed? You just needed to snap out of it and get your shit together. Look for the positives, man!

These answers are wrong and will always be wrong, as both are linked to actual scientific, chemical concerns. To help the illness, we need to use medicine.

However, it also seems like EVERYTHING has a pill for it. Watching the Super Bowl, we found out that there’s apparently a pill for people who can’t shit because they are on opioids and there’s also a pill for people who shit too much. Apparently, the market for people who can’t form proper turds is blossoming.

Low T, restless leg, toenail fungus, limp dicks, lack of female desire… You got something or don’t got something? We got a pill for that.

And that’s where they tell us that some of these addictions to shit like heroin start. Watch the Real Sports piece on heroin use among athletes and it all comes back to painkillers. It hurt, so we gave them a pill to fix it. Then, the pills didn’t work well enough or were too expensive or ran out so they needed something and then, bam, heroin.

And then they die and we wonder why.

The hard part here is trying to figure out where that normal resting pulse actually sits for me. Is it normal to be depressed? Sometimes, maybe, but if it gets too bad, and I’m creating a problem for other people and can’t snap out of it, shouldn’t I try to get that fixed? OK, so what happens when I can’t function without that pill? Or it stops working and I need more of it? How much is too much? How will I know? At least with booze, the vomiting for me is a pretty good red flag that shit went wrong. Same thing with pain. How much is acceptable and how much can I take of whatever it is until I’m actually doing more harm than good?

The state of Wisconsin started an anti-heroin campaign called “The Fly Effect” that talked about how you take the one shot and you’re pretty much screwed. (I’d link to the site, but for reasons past my understanding, it doesn’t exist anymore as it once did. Maybe another budget cut…) So, understanding that a) taking something might be a one-way ticket to addiction, b) things that doctors gave us we once thought were safe can lead you on the nature trail to hell and c) I generally have constant anxiety about losing everything, it’s a pretty bad idea for me to trust that a chemical can solve a problem for me without creating another problem.

How the hell do you deal with the anxiety you’re facing over your anti-anxiety medication?

Maybe there’s a pill for that. Hopefully, it’s non-habit-forming.

Friday Catblogging: Bouncing Back

Della Street hates Carnival. She hides from company, then glares at us after they leave: “What the hell are these people doing in my house, dammit?”

There are two stools sitting side-by-side  in our living room that belong to Della. This year we moved them out of the way to make room for a keg of excellent homebrew made by our friend Greg. Della was not amused. Her stools were finally restored to their proper place on Monday after 4 days of upheaval. Della was relieved and promptly sat under one of them.

IMG_4954

I’m glad that Della is finally bouncing back much like the narrator of this Robert Cray classic:

Hail, Caesar

I love movies about movies. My favorites include Sullivan’s TravelsSunset Boulevard, The Bad and the Beautiful, The Barefoot Contessa, The Player, and Barton Fink. The last film in the list came from the twisted minds of the Coen Brothers as does Hail Caesar.

The Coens haven’t done a primarily comedic movie since 2008’s Burn After Reading, which also starred George Clooney. Clooney plays a rather dim superstar who’s making a film within the film called Hail Caesar: A Tale of the Christ. At least that title doesn’t have an exclamation point, so I chose to ape it. It is, the year of the monkey, after all: Kung hei fat choy.

Clooney’s kidnapping by a group of communist writers kicks the dizzy plot into high gear but the plot isn’t the point of a movie like this. The sole question to ask is: did it make you laugh? I certainly did. The laughs, however, aren’t Marxian (brothers) belly laughs but dry chuckles. The Coens *are* from Minnesota and specialize in wry, deadpan humor.

I  also got a kick out of guessing which golden age Hollywood figures the characters were based on. Slate’s Matthew Dessem has a fine piece about who may be who with which I largely agree. I do, however, think Clooney’s character is a composite of Robert Taylor and Clark Gable. Taylor was rumored to be gay and did some sword and sandals epics in the ’50’s, but the blackmail story made me think of Gable, especially since Ralph Fiennes’ character is based on the great director George Cukor. The story goes that Gable had Cukor fired from Gone With The Wind because he’d serviced the director when he was a street hustler. There’s no way to verify the story, but it’s become a seedier part of Hollywood legend.

I really enjoyed Hail Caesar and give it an Adrastos Grade of B+, 3 1/2 stars, and an Ebertian thumb way up. I’ve never been quite sure where the proverbial thumb is inserted though…

One reason I decided to review Hail Caesar is that it gave me a pretext to post a picture of my friends Bob and Julie’s brilliant Mardi Gras costumes. Ladies and gentleman, I give you Caesar, Salad.

Caesar.Salad

Photograph via Julie Graybill.

Cletis Ate The Last Bag Of Cheetos

From Album 6

So it looks like the Oregon standoff is at long last coming to a conclusion, with the end game every bit as bizarre and incoherent as everything else that’s happened. I guess it’s only fitting that the last chapter began with Cliven Bundy’s arrival / subsequent arrest (wonder if he was going to regale us with his, um, theories) — and Michele Fiore‘s position as negotiator/go between.

Wow. Only in America…

Pulp Fiction Thursday: Murder Is A Killjoy

One would have thought this was obvious:

2713905915_d6aa77bc5f_o

Wishbone Ash Wednesday

argus

I cannot believe I blew the chance to use that pun with the ACAW feature. Better late than never. I’m still recovering from the long Carnival season. My feet are sore, my legs are stiff, and I ate way too much king cake. There was so much king cake around the house that Dr. A made a very yummy king cake bread pudding yesterday.

I’m a bit behind on the political news but the Granite State primaries went as expected. Any time there’s a New England Democrat on the ballot, they win in New Hampshire; even Mainer Ed Muskie in 1972. That’s right, McGovern didn’t win in NH, he exceeded expectations. On the GOP side, it could be Goodbye Rubio Tuesday all over again as Marcodroid Rubiobot laid an egg after being eviscerated by Governor Asshole at the last debate.

Wishbone Ash is, of course, a venerable British band who never quite achieved the success they deserved here in the good old US&A. This punny title is unlikely to help their cause but there are actually two-count ’em two-tenuous links between them and Carnival. First, the title of the song below evokes king cake if you’re inclined to whimsy. Second, it comes from an album entitled Argus, which is the big Fat Tuesday parade in suburban Metry.

It’s probably time for me to atone for this post title but we all know I’ll pun again. It’s what I do. Besides, I’m not Catholic and the only thing I’m giving up for Lent is Carnival. I considered amputating my aching legs but some friends talked me out of it. Why? I’ve always wanted to use the old Vaudeville line: Cut off my legs and call me Shorty.

That is all.

 

Album Cover Art Wednesday: The Horn Meets The Hornet

On a break from grubbing for beads in the streets. I saw a local newscaster (I don’t remember who) discussing Super Bowl half-time shows and how at one early Super Bowl the show consisted of a “trumpet player.” That was true, but it was New Orleans’ own Al Hirt who was a much-loved figure in this city until his death in 1999. And Hirt had a popular nightclub in the Quarter from 1962-1983, so the world could come to him. Things like this make me pull out what little hair I have left: use the Google and learn something instead of being ignorant. Ignorance is not bliss and we’re awash in newbie ignorance in this town.

Now that I’ve ranted, let’s move on to this rather peculiar 1966 LP. It features Al on the cover with Van Williams, teevee’s Green Hornet. Bruce (Kato) Lee is nowhere to be seen. Hirt was selected by composer/arranger Billy May (a past ACAW honoree) to record the theme song for the Green Hornet.  The album consists of Al Hirt doing space-age jazz versions of that and some other popular teevee theme songs.

The Horn Meets The Hornet

Since Bruce Lee didn’t make the LP cover, heeeere’s Kato:

666d45bf261586fb4e266794eaabc411

Finally, since we’re buzzing about The Horn Meets The Hornet, here’s the entire album:

Newspaper Advisor Fired Because Newspaper Accurately Chronicled Stupidity of Local Official

Not the Onion, guys: 

The president of Mount St. Mary’s University in Maryland on Monday fired two faculty members without any faculty review of his action or advance notice. One was a tenured professor who had recently criticized some of the president’s policies. The other was the adviser to the student newspaper that revealed the president recently told faculty members concerned about his retention plans that they needed to change the way they view struggling students. “This is hard for you because you think of the students as cuddly bunnies, but you can’t. You just have to drown the bunnies … put a Glock to their heads,” the president said.

Clearly reporting that is far, far more offensive than, you know, SAYING IT. Basically this asshole figured out a way to peg students who’d be losers on day one and make sure they got rid of themselves or else he’d do it for them. From the Mountain Echo’s excellent news story on the topic: 

On Sept. 21, after giving a presentation in Knott Auditorium to a group of freshmen about the orientation survey results, Newman spoke to a small group of faculty and administrators, including Murry. According to Murry, Newman asked him to compile a list of freshmen whom Veritas Symposium professors had determined were not likely to complete their freshman year successfully.

Murry responded that “we don’t have enough information to determine that, and you might be kicking out some students who would make it.”

According to Murry, Newman replied, “there will be some collateral damage.”

Collateral damage. Like being kicked out of college or possibly tossed in a sack in the river. METAPHORICALLY OF COURSE.

Following the article’s publication the university proceeded to threaten and intimidate the student journalists like a bunch of ten-a-penny-fascisti:

Some accuse the Echo of not having given President Simon Newman a ‘fair shake’ when it came time to talk about retention rates. The president called our article “one sided” in a campus-wide email on Jan. 20, saying that he “offered to sit down with the Echo” without mentioning that the Echo had given his office over a month to offer email comment on an article that he was well aware could be published at any moment after Dec. 9.

In addition, one of the reporters who wrote the story personally approached the president after his open forum with underclassmen on Dec. 8, asking if he had any comment and inviting him to submit a letter to the editor or an Op-Ed piece, either of which the Echo would have published.

All to prevent this jerkwad from being embarrassed because he said embarrassing, stupid shit IN WRITING. I swear, is there a human alive right now who doesn’t know you don’t write stuff like this down? I mean it, anyone? He’s gone and fired the kids’ advisor, which they have rightly told him is the worst kind of bullshit:

Ryan Golden, managing editor of the newspaper, said he was “appalled” and upset by Egan’s dismissal. “He has been a good mentor for students, always encouraging us, always raising questions of ethics about our reporting.”

A.

Happy Mardi Gras

Mardi Gras in New Orleans, 1938 (11)

Photograph by William Vandivert, 1938.

Where most of you live, it’s a work day. In New Hampshire, it’s primary day. In New Orleans, it’s Mardi Gras day. It’s the culmination of a long season. We’ve had parades 10 of the last 12 days and if you’re like me and live near the parade route, it takes over your life.

I’m planning a low key day because this year’s Carnival has worn me out. Instead of wandering the streets for much of the day, Dr. A and I plan to watch the Rex parade near Adrastos World HQ and come home early. Mardi Gras can be celebrated in many ways and that’s one of them.

I’ve enjoyed being in the Carnival bubble during the endless hype leading up to New Hampshire. As a Democrat, I am unhappy that 2 of the whitest states in the country have  a disproportionate impact on who we nominate for President. They could be determinative or it could be like 1992 when Bill Clinton won neither Iowa nor New Hampshire and was elected President. Who the hell knows? I hate the current primary system almost as much as the hype. It makes no sense for an ethnically diverse party to pick its nominee in Whitelandia.

As for me, I’m going to play some Mardi Gras music and try to get into the swing of things for, as we all know, it don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing.

 

The Fog Of Historical Pictures: King Zulu, 1949

The Krewe of Zulu is a predominantly African-American group that was formed as a parody of the Carnival parade thrown by the rich, white folks of Rex. Its King is usually a member, but in 1949 they honored the great Louis Armstrong:

lg-louis-armstrong-as-king-of-zulu-on-mardi-gras-day,-1949-

Photograph via the Louisiana State Museum.

You’re not hallucinating: Pops *was* in blackface. Krewe members to this very day wear blackface whilst parading, including white riders. It’s one reason Zulu nearly died in the 1960’s. Zulu is now seen as a symbol of African-American pride, not as minstrelsy or Uncle Tommery as it was at the peak of the Civil Rights movement. I still have qualms about the whole blackface thing though.

Satchmo was thrilled to be honored in his hometown but continued to live in Queens. He was unwilling to be treated as a second-class citizen, which meant living in New Orleans was out of the question. Besides, he spent most of the year on the road but New York was where he hung his hat or is that horn?

Louis received another signal honor that year. He was on the cover of  Time Magazine:

Time-Louis

Zulu has a brand spanking new signature float this year that honors their 1949 King. It will make its debut on Mardi Gras Day.

zulu-its-great-to-be-king

I’m not sure why the caption and the logo on the float don’t match but we’re not big on detail here in the Crescent City.

It’s time to give the great man the last word:

Today on Tommy T’s Obsession with the Freeperati – the terrible two edition

Morning, good people!

Well, I knew that Free Republic is very Trump-friendly, but it’s starting to look pretty one-sided.  The Freeperati have been running their own poll periodically to ask the members who they intend to vote for.

Latest poll results, please?

Cruz – 1347 votes

Trump – 2211 votes

Hmm – almost two to one.

So – how the hell did The Darnold lose Iowa?

Limbaugh: Trump Lost Iowa Because He Attacked Cruz ‘Like A Liberal Democrat

The Daily Caller ^ | February 2, 2016 | Christian Datoc

Posted on ‎2‎/‎2‎/‎2016‎ ‎1‎:‎18‎:‎23‎ ‎PM by Cincinatus’ Wife

Conservative radio host Rush Limbaugh said Tuesday that Donald Trump lost the Iowa caucus because his criticism of Ted Cruz made him sound “like a liberal Democrat.”

“I don’t think Trump skipping the debate had a thing to do with what happened last night,” began Limbaugh. “This is a Republican primary. It’s Iowa. Conservatives win in Iowa.”

“Donald Trump, I don’t know if you forgot – one thing that everyone remembers – he went out and tried to criticize Ted Cruz,” explained the talk-show host.

“Ted Cruz isn’t the enemy,” he continued. “Hillary Clinton is the enemy. Ted Cruz is not a nasty guy. Ted Cruz is not a Canadian.”

“Nobody is going to believe that, especially when you offer that criticism sounding as though it could come with Bernie Sanders. In a Republican primary, you do not win if you’re going to sound like a liberal democrat criticizing Ted Cruz.”

1 posted on 2‎/‎2‎/‎2016‎ ‎1‎:‎18‎:‎23‎ ‎PM by Cincinatus’ Wife

Freepers?  Your thoughts?

 

To: lodi90

 

I didn’t turn Rush on today but I hear that he’s pumping Cruz & Rubio and tearing down Trump.

I’m so done with Rush.

3 posted on 2‎/‎2‎/‎2016‎ ‎1‎:‎21‎:‎16‎ ‎PM by Kenny (RED)

Which begs the question:
To: Kenny

 

“I’m so done with Rush.”

If one is for Trump, is there a conservative talk show host or commentator who is left in good graces?

15 posted on 2‎/‎2‎/‎2016‎ ‎1‎:‎27‎:‎19‎ ‎PM by D-fendr (Deus non alligatur sacramentis sed nos alligamur.)

BreitBartBehave
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To: D-fendr

 

Well, they got Ann Coulter. Which is good, because nobody else wants her anymore :)

72 posted on 2‎/‎2‎/‎2016‎ ‎1‎:‎38‎:‎06‎ ‎PM by Boogieman

BurnNapoleon
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More anal-isis of former Freeper icon El Flushbo after this word from our friends at GoldLine.

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SMV: Speaking Freely With Paul Kantner

I meant to post this 2001 interview with the late, great Paul Kantner last week, but forgot to set the timer thingamabob. Oops.

Saturday Odds & Sods: Hey Pocky Way

Rex Float 1960's

Rex parade some time in the 1960’s.

Carnival may be a marathon, not a sprint, but I’m feeling winded after our annual Muses open house, which was a bit too open for my taste this year. Additionally, the crowds on the parade route are getting rowdier and more aggressive even on our relatively civilized corner. Even the best parade throws such as a Muses decorated shoe are just junk on Ash Wednesday. So it goes.

I hate to do this but this week’s Odds & Sods is going to be characterized by brevity. I’ve been having back problems, which led one of my friends to prescribe a cure: a fifth of Jameson’s. I only had some of it but I’m a bit the worse for wear anyway. I’m not even sure I feel like punning right now. I suspect you’re uncertain whether to be scared or relieved at this point…

I may be crapping out this week but there *is* a theme song. It’s one of the great Carnival anthems, Hey Pocky Way. It’s rooted in the traditions of the Mardi Gras Indians, with which Art Neville of the Meters and Neville Brothers is intimately familiar. His  beloved Uncle George Landry was Big Chief Jolly of the Wild Tchoupitoulas.

The song was written by the original Meters and began life as Hey Pocky A-Way:

I’m not sure why the A was dropped by the Nevilles since they’re definitely A students when it comes to music:

Finally, a live version from the good old Grateful Dead with keyboard wiz Brent Mydland on lead vocals. The Dead started performing the song after touring with the Neville Brothers:

That’s it for this truncated edition of Saturday Odds & Sods. Time to eat some party leftovers including some homemade chicken curry courtesy of one of Dr. A’s colleagues. In the meantime, don’t forget to:

Egghead

 

 

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