Spitting On Dr. King's Grave

Ladies and gentlemen, we may already have a winner. The impossible mission has almost been accomplished.

The fact that Rod Blagojevich has almost won the current staring contest with democratic leaders betrays the pre-1960's mentality that still haunts our political system. Blagojevich's tentative victory (and it is almost surely a victory) is soured by the virtue with which he won: inverted racism.

I keep thinking of that episode on 30 Rock where Liz Lemon got set up with a handsome African-American, went out on one date, realized they had nothing in common, and tried gracefully to bow out. The date then shouted, "It's because I'm black, isn't it?" Everyone in the restaurant turned around to glare at Lemon, and she quickly back-pedaled. Sound familiar? It took her a week to get out from under his thumb, all because she was hell-bend on proving how un-racist she really is. "Are you really saying that all women who won't date you are racists?" "No, not all women. Some are lesbians." You're not a lesbian, are you?

If I get an A on a midterm because I have compromising pictures of my professor, you can say that I technically won. If I give a cop a blowjob to avoid getting a traffic ticket, you can say that I technically beat the system. If I... you get the picture.

The only good to come of this theater of the absurd is that it temporarily takes the heat off of Blagojevich and puts it squarely where it belongs: Congressional leaders heavy with white guilt. It would have been a brilliant move, if only this was still the era of disco and green and brown couches. (But then again, the mustache is back.)

There is still a glimmer of hope that democratic leaders will call his bluff and refuse to play Rod's game, which of course means betting the farm that African-American voters will understand why, and I think they will. (The fact that this ridiculousness is unfolding from the city that gave us the first black president will surely fascinate for generations.) Can congressional leaders strap on a pair and refuse to accept Roland Burris' appointment? Probably not, but it's fun to think about.

The fact that really blows my mind is that Rod's team knew exactly which buttons to push -- or in this case slam. I still can't get my mind around the fact that the words hang and lynch were used in the same breath while shoving Burris in the limelight. "What's the matter? Are you some kind of racist?" I mean, really. We're reaching the point where our raised eyebrows are forcing our agape mouths shut.

This breathtaking display of cynicism will either work or it won't. I'm tempted to predict that it won't, but then again I'm often accused of having way too much faith in humanity. If it does work, I will have lost all hope that we have begun to heal the race rift in our country. Using race to beat your way out of a corner you is a sick move, and we mustn't allow it to work. If it does go through, we will all be guilty of spitting on Dr. King's grave. (By the way, how ill does it make you that this whole circus is coming to us by way of the democrats? Aren't they supposed to be the good guys when it comes to race?)

It is the responsibility now of congressional -- and yes, democratic -- leaders to stand firm on the ground they have occupied for the last two weeks. Do not allow Burris' appointment to go through. Call out Blagojevich for what he is: a race baiter. Make him sit in the corner and write, "I will not exploit racism to get myself out of trouble that I myself caused" 10,000 times on a chalkboard.

If Burris is the right person for the job, then I hope he gets it. But in a way it may be too late for even that, given how easily he played into Rod's opera. Why he would willingly step up to this questionable Hail Mary pass speaks to his weakness of character and lust for power. It apparently far overshadows his desire to dispel racism and cronyism in Illinois politics, or to even play the game fairly.

Somewhere in some back room, only days ago, you can bet these words were hastily whispered: "This is going to work. This is going to work. It has to work. We have an out. We can make this work. I can make this work... are you with me?"

Your move, congressional democrats. Do what Liz Lemon couldn't. Send this fucktard back to the 1950's. Dr. King has your back on this one.

Would U Die 4 Me?

The very first 12" single I ever bought as a kid was Prince & The Revolution's Let's Go Crazy / Erotic City. There was no doubt in my mind that I was completely hooked on remixes. I was trolling record shops when I was 12, tracking down the elusive single with weird mixes, instrumentals, acapellas, whatever I could find.

One of the rarest, weirdest, least likely single I stumbled upon was a 12" of I Would Die 4 U / Another Lonely Christmas by Prince & The Revolution. At first I was disappointed, thinking it was just a live recording and not an actual remix. I listened to it again, but didn't hear an audience. Motherfucker recorded a live version of the song in his studio. Completely re-recording a song from scratch and calling it an "extended version" was practically unheard of in the mid-80's.

Prince & The Revolution - I Would Die 4 U (Extended Version).mp3

Enjoy an old rare Prince gem.

Jesus Wept

The strangest thing came to me today by way of my U of M email account.

It's an email, but it's more than that. It takes up a different space than just an email. It has legs and eyes. It's either genius -- stupid on purpose -- or the rant of a retarded hippie. Either way, I'm taking it as a Satanic Christmas present from hell.

I've read through it a few times now, and the only conclusion I can reach is that the sender had taken some really good acid about 10 hours before hitting the send button.

Try reading it through without stopping or going back. Savor each word, each tortured sentence. I guarantee you'll get a contact high.

I reproduce it here in its entirety. I recommend you read it while listening to some Coil, just for an extra spritz of bowel-churning malice: Coil - At The Heart Of It All.mp3

Do you feel the urge to begin tracking down someone who shares your mindset? If not, there is no
need to read more as it shows that those who think just like you
are already around you.

You must attempt to coerce the whole world to think as you do.
Or do you prefer to endorse foolishness?

I was attempting to get married this year since it would have increased the tax refund.
They said to me they wouldn't do that for the convenience.
They lacked interest in acting as allies.

They rave about finding what you love to do. They're being dishonest with themselves.
Perhaps one twentieth of today's Gross Domestic Product would be enough to live in comfort.
People ask how I make ends meet because I work only from time to time.
I counter why they pay skillful liars by paying to watch films.
Why do they run mad after big vehicles and private property?
Does it not occur to them that they're crazy about traveling only as long as
it's highly regarded by the general populace?

They're decided that reality can't change. Yet when young, they dreamt about
omniscience, perfect relationships, and utopias. We are still that immature.
We'll create a cult based on rational reasoning.

Don't respond to this message since we won't read it. Search for the following on
the largest search engine.

nothing arrogant teenage intelligence students
surreptitious philosophy strategy ideology logic
verification pure general design insecure
friendship terrestrial personality intolerant defiance
social spiritual art unlikely traits
egregious indoctrination Borg monomania clandestine

Search for three words at a time for best results. That makes for
many hundreds of search queries, so only the determined will learn the truth.

Merry Christmas Lindsey McCallister, whoever you are. You made my holiday season even darker with your truly, truly fucked up message of un-hope from the bowels of hell. Next time I hope you don't come back from your acid trip.

On a completely unrelated note, but in the spirit of the random, I decided last night that my new favorite word is alchemistical.

Happy Holidays, assholes. See you all in the lake of fire.

Exorcising Drug & Alcohol Rehabilitation

An article in the health section of today's New York Times spells out what I've been screaming for the last two years: Treatment programs by and large are a sham.

That's not to say that there is no hope at all for people suffering with drug and/or alcohol addiction issues. Far from it, the article spells out the difference between mainstream treatment and "evidence-based" treatment that's really out there and really making a difference.

The article is quick to point out that discerning the real from the rubbish in rehabilitation programs is an uphill battle. Most treatment programs follow the Alcoholics Anonymous model of data-publishing, in that they don't do it, either because they are private celebrity spas or cash-strapped state programs with limited resources.

The other side of the coin is that there are methods out there that do work, but parsing the two is next to impossible because there are no standardized methods or approaches across the board. There seem to be as many ways to approach addiction as there are clinics (and counselors), so even investigating the system quickly becomes a joke. (You'll be in a maze before you're halfway through.)

I tried to make a point of declaring similar objections when I left AA in 2007. The 12 Step program seems to run on air and circular logic. Most regular members with long-term sobriety seem to be blind to the throngs of people who come and go unhelped in a matter of days, only to return in much worse shape the next year. I befriended people in the program who voluntarily returned to inpatient treatment facilities about once a year. Talk about insidiousness: the state usually pays for these treatments under a licensing regulation known as Rule 31. Neither 12 Step programs nor treatment facilities actually deliver on their otherworldly promises, but the former strongly encourages participation in the latter (and vice versa), and the taxpayer foots the bill.

But the circus doesn't end there. One of the worst offenses I found in my eleven years in 12 Step recovery programs is the relentless stream of AA members that are funneled back into the system as counselors. Nearly every third long-term member I met in the program was either in training or practicing some kind of addiction therapy. The article spells out nicely why this is an obstacle to real treatment:

To complicate matters in Oregon, the state mandate has stirred a kind of culture clash between those who want reform — academic researchers, state officials — and veteran counselors working in the trenches, many of whom have beaten addictions of their own and do not appreciate outsiders telling them how to do their jobs. [...] “I’m a counselor, and I’d be defensive, too: ‘What do you mean, all this stuff I’ve been doing my entire life is wrong?’ ” said Brian Serna, director of outpatient services at Adapt, who has traveled the state to monitor the use of scientific practices.

Yes, wrong indeed. We have a systemic cancer if members of spiritually-based recovery programs come up through an already corrupt system and teach the same corrupt methods to the next crop of addicts and alcoholics. The tortured logic at the heart of 12 Step programs (which is frequently mirrored by non-12 Step treatment programs) is that the victim is responsible for his or her own relapses, but that only God and God alone can relieve the victim of the illness.

The answer to this circular madness is of course that God can't be questioned or scientifically studied in any way. The orthodoxy of God-based therapy doesn't allow such questions to be asked while hundreds of thousands of people every year receive inadequate treatment that belongs in the Dark Ages of scientific medicine.

I'm not dissing religious belief, just get it the hell out of state-sponsored treatment programs. Finding spirituality should be one of the threads of mainstream addiction counseling, not the heart of it. We owe honest, evidence-based treatment to everyone who seeks it. God is simply not getting the job done. It's high time to lift the shroud of secrecy and mystery from the culture of spiritual addiction counseling and get addicts and alcoholics the help they really need.

Jefferson Airplane - White Rabbit (DVD Error)

One pill makes you larger and one pill makes you... vomit digital nonsense.

I was watching The Game a few months back when the digital gods blessed me with the happiest of accidents: the DVD began skipping and stuttering uncontrollably towards the end of the film, making the actors sound like extras in a Ninja Tune remix.

The DVD error also happily coincided with the closing credits, thus decimating Jefferson Airplane's White Rabbit into a sonic apocalypse. I managed to pick my jaw off the floor long enough to hook my DVD player up to my laptop, record the audio, and capture a miracle.

Jefferson Airplane - White Rabbit (DVD Error).mp3

Now it is available here for you to enjoy. This is the sonic equivalent of finding the image of the Virgin Mary in a cheese sandwich. It's a sign from the digital gods that they are pleased with us and our technology.

Worship the glitch!

Inauguration Faux Pas?

I'm not one to hold public spectacle up to high standards. I don't nit-pick over celebrity fashion faux pas, nor do I give a whit about seating arrangements at august international political conferences (irrespective of whatever backstage drama may be afoot).

This is why I don't give two flying fucks about Obama's invitation to give pastor Rick Warren a prime slice of the spotlight during the inauguration. To me the whole thing has an air of jilted pageantry, of miffed prima donnas and a kerfuffled crème de la crème. I can't help but snicker when Politico reports that gay leaders are "furious with Obama" for tapping Warren. It's hard to imagine an old queen who's not furious over something.

Making a case that Warren's invitation is a slap in the face to the GLBT community certainly isn't implausible, but it's not like social conservatives are going anywhere. Twenty years from now, when the phrase "gay marriage" sound as silly as "interracial marriage" does today, the grinches and gremlins of the religious right will still bang away at their Bibles, their faces red as they ravage their throats screaming at the downward spiral of modern society in the eyes of God. You can take that to the motherfucking bank.

Yet how much power will they actually have? Even today our great American landscape is sprinkled hither and yon with neo-Nazis and KKK members, but (aside from the occasional klutzy assassination attempt) nobody cares. What little remaining power they have has diminished with every passing generation that shrugged its shoulders and wondered aloud why it's a big deal for blacks and whites to dance openly at the prom. Now fast-forward to the post-Will & Grace generation, replace "blacks and whites" with "gays," and you have the current zeitgeist. The world is full of far scarier monsters than the homos, but you wouldn't know it the way the Rick Warrens of the world carry on.

As long as Obama gets to be president, they could resurrect Hitler himself to give the invocation on January 20th. I don't care, and I don't think anyone else should either. It's a great gig they've landed, the social conservatives, rick rolling the public during the inauguration of a liberal president; one of their heroes gets a bunch of free press, and any backlash from liberal social groups can be painted as intolerance at best, calls for censorship at worst. For fuck's sake, let us not fall into this trap!

Gay marriage is a good fight to fight, but we must choose our battles carefully. Letting the GLBT community turn Pastor Warren's public blessing at Obama's big day into a media spectacle is making the same mistake that atheists make when they cry out against having God on the one dollar bill or allowing the Ten Commandments on courthouse lawns. Atheists should instead be worried about keeping creationism out of public high school science classrooms and religious fanaticism away from Congress.

Likewise, the GLBT community (and any other group that is morally outraged at Pastor Warren's specter) should move the battle to a front worth winning. Reverse the bizarre Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy, or work to finally dismantle the ridiculous Defense of Marriage Act. Why are we pulling our hair at what only amounts to so much pomp and ceremony? Swapping at a tuft of whipped cream would be more productive. This is nothing more than a celebrity fashion faux pas. Let's not confuse the forest for the trees, hmm?

Limahl - Neverending Story (Jason's Bootleg Remix)

And now a splash from the shallow end of the pool.

I fell in love with the movie when I was 12 (as any 12 year-old gay boy should) and I fell even more deeply in love with Limah's ridiculously sugary theme song. I found a vinyl copy of the 12" version when I was about 14 which I played more times than I care to admit.

Then in the late 90's a friend and I began to spelunk through my vinyl archives in search of an old pop song to remix for a happy hardcore project, and The Neverending Story was an obvious choice.

Limahl - The Neverending Story (Jason's Bootleg Remix).mp3

Made in 1999 with an Ensoniq ASR-10. Thanks to dj Spree for the inspiration and encouragement.

The Devil Made Me Do It

We learned that Big Tobacco took it up the ass yesterday. "Light" cigarettes may now be used as an excuse to blame the seller for the buyer's habits. This is a liberal fantasy come true, and a huge loss for the free market system.

Merry Christmas, liberals! You may now come forth with your case, throw up your hands, and blame the defense for your unconscious activities. (I suppose the devil is also responsible for your gouging yourself on two pints of "low-fat" frozen yogurt when you could have just had one pint of Chubby Hubby. For shame.)

This makes my libertarian blood boil, this does. I've never been a big fan of Big Tobacco, but this is going from the ridiculous to the bizarre in one stroke. Stay this madness, I say!

The rub of the story concerns Maine smokers who claim the selling of "light" cigarettes is a case of false advertising because - I still can't believe this part - the smokers, according to a New York Times opinion piece,

"unconsciously smoke them differently, taking larger puffs, for instance, or holding the smoke longer in their lungs to make up for the difference in the cigarettes’ strength. Because that allows them to extract the same amount of tar and nicotine as they would from regular cigarettes, the smokers argue that the company’s marketing violates the Maine Unfair Trade Practices Act’s prohibition on deceptive business practices."

Thud, thud, thud. It makes me feel better when I do that. I would continue to slam my forehead against my desk if I knew it would make any difference. Give me a fucking break. The plaintiffs are really making the argument that their clients' unconscious habits are the fault of a tobacco company. Really. Where are Seth and Amy when you need them?

This is a grave injustice to Philip Morris and merchants everywhere in America. The door has been flung open, and now the fallout begins. We have precedent. The victim culture redux will put many lawyers' children through college, which I suppose is a somewhat happy consequence of this folly of reason, but in the meantime we have a new season of lunacy.

The packages in question do not in fact deceive. "Light" cigarettes actually do have less tar and nicotine than regular cigarettes. Just because smokers are able to get around this fact by "unconsciously" (I love that part) taking larger puffs does not mean that there is any wrongdoing on the part of the cigarette manufacturers. Does it? I mean, I'm no Supreme Court Justice, but I'm just saying. Does it really?

I hate to use the slippery slope defense, but what's next? Can I sue McDonald's for my health problems if I... oh, wait. Never mind.

Flip Wilson's Geraldine was right. The devil did make me do it. Were I to believe in supernatural deities, I would be tempted to suspect the devil lurking behind this Supreme Court decision as well.

Valerie Etienne & Jazzanova Revisited

My life changed forever the day I first heard a Jazzanova remix. It was 1999 and the song was What's Your Number (Jazzanova Renumber) by Ian Pooley, and it took me a good week to get my mind around how much I loved it.

Every other remix and single since then has done nothing less than blow my mind in two. I ran, not walked, to buy their first full-length CD back in 2002 (In Between), but I only recently downloaded the remixes. Most of them are OK, but one really caught my attention. Here's the original and the remix:

Jazzanova - Mwela Mwela (Here I Am).mp3
Jazzanova - Mwela Mwela (Here I Am) (Bugz In The Attic Remix).mp3

The Bugz In The Attic Remix has been an absolute revelation. I haven't been this excited about a future jazz project for at least two years. I can't believe I missed the original release all the way back in 2003.

Groupthink and Facebook

I tried to leave AA in the spring of 2007, but the members of AA left me first. Now some of them want me back.

I have a history of drug and alcohol abuse. The amount of weed, LSD, and cocaine I consumed during the 90's would make a candy raver blush. Eleven years ago I was fortunate enough to find my way to recovery, aided in part by the relationships and rigorous structures that come along with an AA membership.

I had an un-spiritual awakening in the summer of 2005, agonized over my AA membership for the next two years, and finally walked away for good 18 months ago. I'm still sober and happy, less one God and one recovery program.

The behavior of my AA friends and acquaintances during this transition perplexed me deeply. My aim was to terminate my membership in Alcoholics Anonymous while maintaining my friendships if possible, but it was not to be. I was all but shown the door when I dropped the atheist bombshell six full months before I left for good. An organization that prides itself on belief in God "as we understand Him" found it right to ridicule me and finally dismiss me on the basis of my religious beliefs. (A fellow member once told me his sponsor advised him to "stay away" from me after hearing me talk about atheism and critical thinking during a small group discussion.)

I watched relationships wither that had been cultivated over years. Invitations to group events stopped coming, voice and e-mails went unanswered. Except for a brief "surge" during the summer of 2007 when four AA members contacted me within a one-week period, I was all but cut off from AA life.

I have no illusions of grandeur. I know there was no conspiracy, or even more than a moment's thought given to my views. People are busy with their own lives. It was almost knee-jerk, like I had become a bad cog in a large and quickly spinning wheel that couldn't support me any longer. I felt an unmistakable sense of What's going on with him? follow me everywhere I went in the rooms and halls of AA. I can't say for sure what happened in the minds of my friends, but I can report honestly on what it felt like to suddenly be elbowed out of all social ties in a matter of weeks. It sucked big donkey balls.

How surprising it was to then discover the half dozen friend requests from old AA acquaintances when I opened a facebook profile last week.

I'm sorry to say I want nothing at all to do with them. Most of the people who sent me friend requests were always nice enough to me in passing, but they are part of a machine I abhor, a machine that offers false hope to suffering victims of addiction, a machine that blames the same victims for their own inevitable relapses. I won't usually fault a person on the basis of their associates, but this time I'll make an exception.

To all of my fair-weather AA acquaintances who watched quietly as I was being shoved out the back door and who now suddenly want to be my "friend" on facebook:

Fuck off, will you?

Do Not Play

This post has been moved to my new dark music / lit blog, Percival Ravenwood, Esq.

The new link for this post is here.

Give It To Me Straight, Doctor

You may want to sit down. The news is in and I'm afraid it's not good. There's nothing we can do except pretend to make you comfortable.

The doctor is Congress, and the patient is the American middle class. The prognosis? One hell of a mouth-fuck.

There will be no bailout for the Big Three. Now what? There's no way to spin this. When the man goes down and takes 5% of all American blue collar families with him, it just sucks for everyone. (Well, actually it doesn't suck quite as bad for the man.) This is the first verse and chorus of the song about the end of the American middle class.

I blogged about this mess (Crash Test Bailout) the week after jet-gate, and I was quick to wear my indecision on my sleeve. Like many other policy nerds and Washington watchers, I had no idea what to make of the whole mess. I still don't.

Earlier this week I was speaking with a friend who somehow possesses the certitude that I lack. He was convinced that Detroit auto makers should not be given a bailout. He expressed disgust at how the execs had behaved in the past, and balked at rewarding bad behavior. I expressed my envy at his ability to have an opinion, any opinion.

I can see where he's coming from but I just can't quite get there. Jesus, I can't get anywhere. I can't climb on board the no-bailout bandwagon, but I am just as unwilling to swallow something as ridiculous as a Car Czar, for fuck's sake. Jon Stewart expressed this idea most succinctly when he asked, "Would you buy a car made by Congress?"

It must be very unhelpful of me to blog about what I don't think of something. I can think of at least four reasons to push this either way and they all add up to an identical sum. It sucks equally bad either way. Seeing unemployment rates double before spring is equally as galling as rewarding these fat-cats for enabling an over-stimulated, action-film-driven American public in the SUV market.

Ah, but there I think lies the crux of the matter, and that's where the conversation with my friend the other day got really interesting.

How can I put this in the clearest way possible? Just because my hard cock feels good in my hand doesn't mean I'm going to keep it out everywhere I go. (Ladies, any man who says otherwise is either lying or over 70.) Hummers and other off-terrain vehicles are fun -- and I mean they're really fun -- but let's get honest. You can't go around with your hard cock in your hand. Rethinking the super-sized American family might at this point be anathema to maintaining the all-terrain vehicle's status as the official American boner/car.

The symbol of American gluttony and material success must go the way of indoor smoking, and not because Ivy League educated, East Coast liberals say so. This is not a case of a minority forcing an agenda down the collective throats of the majority; it's simply a case of unsustainable recklessness. Hey, you can also shoot meth for a good couple of months before the consequences come crashing down on your head. It might be a blast for a while, but sooner or later you're going to start giving blowjobs to homeless people for a bump. Your over-worked hard-on will shrivel up to a weak shadow of its former self well before its time.

And so it goes with America. The middle class is strung out. It has a bad fucking case of methmouth. SUVs have been our drug, oil-producing cartels have been our dealers, and Detroit has been our enabler. Oh, and Congress in this particular case is like rehab. It doesn't do a goddamn motherfucking thing.

This American hunger for opulence and a huge bulge in our jeans is the monster in the corner that everybody is ignoring while the un-bailout unfolds. We are wringing our hands when we should be running for our lives. We will either go the way of Europe or we will go the way of the British Empire. Which one will it be? (At least they can still get it up in Europe.)

Vanity 6 - Nasty Girl (Bootleg House Remix)

I Heart Old Prince!

I always loved this song, and somehow I found a copy on vinyl years ago. I used to spin it on top of instrumental house tracks, and the effect always electrified the crowd. (Maybe not so much anymore: "Who's Vanity 6?")

Vanity 6 - Nasty Girl (Jason's Bootleg House Remix).mp3

Anyway, it's a very basic house re-do with some fun bits thrown in and dj-friendly intro/outro. Made with SonicFoundry SoundForge on a PC.

Have Yourself A Satanic Little Christmas

I fell in love with those wacky, Satan-worshiping freaks known as Coil back in the 80's, and this summer I was delighted to learn that they actually have their own Christmas song.

Coil - Christmas Is Now Drawing Near.mp3

It's really quite a beautiful song. It's from their Winter Solstice: North single, part of their seasonal cycle that was released in the late 90's. I bring it to you now, in anticipation of the holiday I hate most of all.

You can learn more about Coil at their Wikipedia page.

Merry Christmas, sinners!

Thomas Dolby vs Oingo Boingo

Quasi mash-up of two 80's favorites.

Thomas Dolby vs Oingo Boingo - She Blinded Me With Weird Science.mp3

Made for a Halloween party dj set list back in 2006. Created on a PC using SoundForge by Sonic Foundry .

The Cure - New Day (Bootleg Remix)

This has always been one of my favorite Cure b-sides, and I finally got around to remixing it this summer for my annual Halloween mixtape. I didn't wind up using it, but I'm glad I have a chance to share it with the online world via this new music blog.


The Cure - New Day (Jason Herrboldt Bootleg Remix).mp3

I used Twisted Wave Version 1.5 on a MacBook to remix this song. Created July 2008.

Maiden Voyage: First Music Blog

Who doesn't like free music? I know I do.

I always love it when I stumble upon a music blog with lots of free goodies to stick in my iPod. And now I've finally pulled my act together and published my own! I want to share a little piece of the world of music with you. Aren't you lucky!

Click here to download/listen to the first episode. It's just a vocal introduction. I'll post a real song in a minute.

May there be many, many more to come.

Let The Man Have A Cigarette

Barack Obama is about to step into the hardest job on the planet. This is the only man in the world -- with the exception of Hillary Clinton -- who is going to be staring down Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and Kim Jong-il on a regular basis. Let the guy have a cigarette every now and then.

There's nothing illegal about smoking. I suppose one could make the argument that smoking sets a bad example for the children, but so do a lot of things. (Unilaterally invading and occupying a sovereign nation under false pretenses comes to mind.)

I think it's wrong for the media to put this pressure on the President-Elect. I understand they have to pay the bills, to keep the lights on, and that means chasing down every juicy non-story they can find. But this is a bridge too far.

I liked Obama's answer, though. He pledged not to smoke "in the White House," according to MSNBC. This is a crafty -- and an appropriate -- response. He was also quick to brush off the nagging and move on to more pertinent questions during a Q&A in St. Louis.

Both reactions are pitch-perfect. Vowing not to smoke in the White House is an easy promise to keep. Ducking outside the Oval Office for a quick puff (ala President Bartlet) is OK because it's not technically "in" the White House. Clever. His casual blow-off to reporters in St. Louis was equally deft. It was all in his tone: Let's move on to more important questions. Yes, let's.

I'm an equal-opportunity smoker's advocate. If W. wanted to sneak a Camel in between cabinet meetings, I'd be OK with that too. I'm on board with indoor smoking bans, but I think everyone has a right to step outside and light up. Making smokers brave subzero temperatures to enjoy a cigarette is punishment enough, no? At that point they're only harming themselves.

I have the same reaction to a campus-wide smoking ban that is coming down the pike at the University of Minnesota. This is a mistake, and an institution as "inclusive" as a university should know better.

I'm not aware of any studies that suggest passing contact with outdoor second-hand smoke has any link with any ill health effects. I can't imagine it would even be possible, but I don't really know. If there is good data to suggest as much, then I'll reverse my opinion. Until such a time, take your outdoor smoking bans and shove them up your tight ass.

This is one non-smoker who will rush to the defense of smokers every time. Even occasional smokers in the West Wing.

GOP Howlers

I came across not one but two GOP howlers this morning, and I just can't keep them to myself.

The first came to be via NPR (of all places) in an interview earlier this week with Governor Mike Huckabee on Talk of the Nation's Political Junkie. It's always nice to get the scuttlebutt on republican tactics, but this one was so off base it made the accusation false analogy sound like a whisper in a hurricane. Here it is.

Abortion is just like slavery. Yep, just like it. Those unborn babies are modern-day slaves, and it's up to us to liberate them just like we did with those African-Americans. I swear to Christ himself that I'm not making this up.

I'm not one to offer advice to republican operatives, but they might want to tread carefully -- very carefully -- if they intend to equate their policy initiatives with the black civil-rights movement. Not that the GOP gives a whit about black Americans, but I'm just saying. The gay-rights movement tried the same thing a couple of months ago and it blew up in our faces. I suppose GOP insiders are hoping that the African-American-on-the-street will have the same built-in support for anti-choice forces that they do for the sanctity of the family, but mostly I think they just don't give a whit about any African-American-on-the-street.

Huckabee then went on -- without missing a beat -- to play the fear card with this old chestnut: THEY'RE COMING FOR US, TOO! He's warning his fellow over-the-hillers that allowing young Americans to have legal access to abortion is encouraging them to think like killers. If people think it's OK to terminate a life because it's an economic inconvenience when it comes to unborn babies, what's to stop them from coming after you or me when we reach our sunset years? No, I'm not making this up either. Just ask Jesus. He's got my back on this one, too.

So that was GOP ass-fuck #1 for me today. Moving right along to #2.

Peggy Noonan wrote in her WSJ colum yesterday about a new verse and chorus for Bush's swan song. The title of her piece says it all: 'At Least Bush Kept Us Safe'. I'll spare you the messy details, but she's trying to pass along the meme that the one good thing Bush has going for him is that there wasn't another terrorist attack on US soil since 9/11, and that it's to his credit for keeping us safe. She's also banking on a terrorist attack under Obama's watch to make Bush look better by comparison. Nice little ray of sunshine for you there.

If I could get Ms. Noonan alone in a room I'd shake her by the shoulders and scream, "Wake up girl! You were dreaming! Wake up!" And then I'd give her a good, hard smack across the face. If someone thinks a terrorist attack is what it takes to make the GOP look good in a post-Bush era, they need a little smacking around.

Anyone who tries to raise their eyebrows, look away, and begin a sentence about George W. Bush with an elongated, "Well..." should be mortally embarrassed to finish it with anything other than "at least he's almost out of office." Are you kidding me? "At least he kept us safe" is missing one minor point:

9/11 HAPPENED ON BUSH'S WATCH.

It's thirsty work keeping up with the latest GOP stratagem, but somebody's gotta do it. If I hear any convincing cases for pet republican policy initiatives that don't stretch credulity to the absolute snapping point... well then I suppose I'll have to blog about those too.

Lemon out.

Drag Queen Jewel Thieves

I've been thinking about this for a while, and I really can't come up with anything in the world that's cooler than a bunch of drag queens ripping off an upscale jewelry store in Paris.

What store was it? Harry Winston. Where was it located? Around the corner from a cop shop.

I'm not kidding.

I don't know about you, but I have a new hero. It's the international drag queen jewel thief.

You go, bitches. You go.