HAPPY 2009

The thought of spending Christmas in a drafty Tree House battered by inclement weather on par with teacher training root canal surgery was not a delightful prospect.

So what does a Knight do? Indulge.

As Sting once sang “When the World is Running Down” lets head for the Dominican sound.

With that ringing in my ears I parked my bum on a jetBlue seat and headed for a warmer climate.

Now the normal three hour flight to the sun and sand was extended to an eight hour ordeal.

As we taxied towards lift off, our witty Captain announced that current snowy conditions was in complete contrast to where we were headed.

With that joyful piece of information I settled in to ponder eight days of Blissful Sloth.

As we approached the Dominican shoreline it soon became apparent that we where circling a large mountainous area and not descending to the beckoning seas below.

Sure enough we in a holding pattern because the plane ahead of us had just landed and collapsed on the runway. How does a plane collapse?
Poor thing… exhausted from hauling unruly Europeans was the cartoon image running through my head.

After more topological sightseeing it was made clear that we needed to be heading for some discount gas and nearby airport.

Having landed at the gate with doors open, we sat while Captain jetBlues lamented why he didn't fly faster to nudge out the offending plane.

We lost the race to the finish line. “It stinks” he said.

By now every ground crew member were down the aisles adding to the unfolding drama. With the sun bursting through the fiesta was underway.

Three hours later we landed beneath a Caribbean sunset… still better than dental surgery.

There is no better way to reflect on the past years woes with a swim in the
warm sea with a promise of a George Hamilton tan at the end of it.

As I thought of the “To Do List” for the coming year I gave a toast to
Barrack Obama with my aptly named Presidente beer (local brew).

His "To Do List" will be Herculean.

Back now in the Tree house curled up with a Barbara Carlton novel and Verve Clicquot on ice ready for prime viewing countdown.

As the late great John Lennon sang “Happy New Year let’s hope it's a good one”

Happy New Year to All.

Lame Ducking President

Considering the current mood of the world small comforts of tidings and joy are most welcome.
Just when Saturday Night Live was lamenting about no more Sarah Palin to prop up their ratings, an Iraqi journalist comes to the rescue and provides ample material for 2009.

George Bush is winding down his abysmal eight year tenure by making last round trips to beleaguered countries that have been at the butt end of an appalling foreign policy agenda. For the last two terms we have sadly come to know the man, the image and the body grammar.

The Tough Cowboy walk; his cheery wave, his bemused smirk, the stuttering splat of verbal delivery and the glazed look of a man with nothing between his ears that has provided us a Universe size of embarrassment.

And as the sensible people among us finally say good riddance and rejoice in the mental deleting process of the 43rd President, one can’t help luxuriate in the recent hilarity coming to our screens from Baghdad.
It was at a joint Press conference hosted by Iraqi President Nouri al Maliki that an Iraqi journalist unleashed a volley of sized ten shoes aimed at guess who? Yes, the two step cowering George Bush.

In the Arab world, throwing ones shoes at someone is the greatest of insults, and being called a dog isn’t exactly a harbinger of harmony. Of course this was lost on our gallant leader who later remarked he was unthreatened by such displays of displeasure.

It must be surmised that the sensible people of the world were in complete unison with this act of heroism and imagined it was they who were dispatching leather and lace.

It is rumored that the Olympic Committee are under great pressure to include this new discipline in 2012 London Games.

As to the journalist whereabouts ? he is probably being measured for his orange jump suit Gitmo bound, courtesy of Cheney Airways. Thankfully he might not have to stay long if President Elect Obama has his way.

F**king. Motherf**ker. F**k him.

Just when the State of Illinois was enjoying being the home of America’s first Afro American President along comes Governor Blagojevich to spoil the party. And what an unsavory gatecrasher he's proving to be.

The Governor’s potty mouth rip tide of expletives gives us great concern to the proper use of the English language in times of deep corruption. To use such foul tongue sets a terrible example to our children.
The Teachers Association of America must be stuffing their ears with deep pan crust pizza to silence the thud of another F**k him, F**king and motherf**ker.

But there is something more pressing; this latest political scandal while in its infancy is missing one vital ingredient, SEX.
In the last fifty years Chicago has seen four of its Governor’s spend time in jail. Not a great track record one might think. While the list of mischief included tax evasion, fraud and sale of illegal contracts none incorporated sex.

Now there is a league of tables when categorizing political disgrace.

In the Premier league we have:

Bill Clinton
Elliot Spitzer
Gary Hart

Name any Kennedy
Mark Foley
In the Second Division we have:

Richard Nixon
Jack A. Abramoff
Libby Scooter

George W. Bush and Dick Cheney have a division all of their own (and who would have sex with them?)

Until revelations of hanky panky are blasted across all viral and TV outlets Mr. Blagojevich will hover between the Premiership and Second division.

To be continued…

Road Trip

Will the genius who persuaded the Big Three Auto CEO’s to take a road trip to Washington DC, please stand up and claim their prize. Congratulations, you’ve won a Hummer .This wonderful PR moment of contrition is on par with Bill Clinton’s bible breakfast during the Monica Lewinsky saga, a lot too late.

We can only imagine the sacrifice these three poor souls had to endure and thanks to the NSA (National Security Agency) we listened in on their ordeal.

GM: Hey guys what are you doing?

Ford: Sitting in a metal box with wheels…I think they call it an automobile…
Chrysler: Yeah mine looks something like that. From the jet I used to see those little boxes zipping

along the countryside and then they would all line up…
GM: That’s traffic.
Ford: What’s that?
GM: It’s when we make too many autos and convince the public to buy three per household.
Chrysler: Gee… I wandered why we flew through so much smog.
GM: Yeah that’s because we couldn’t give a dam about emissions until Greenpeace raised a stink.
Ford: What’s that huge military looking thing ahead of us?
Chrysler: It’s what they call a SUV.
GM: What does SUV stand for?
Ford: Stupid Useless Vehicle.
Chrysler: Hey guys there’s something coming along side us, it has no sound and the person inside looks familiar.
GM: Oh there’s the enemy. It’s an electric car and that C list actor Ed Bagley Jr is behind the wheel.
Ford: Wasn’t that one of the good idea’s we killed off when we were sleeping with big oil?
GM: Yeah and just like oil running out we ran out of ideas.
Chrysler: Whoa what’s this line up ahead?
Ford: I think they call those Tolls.
GM: What are Tolls?
Chrysler: It is a tax that everyday people pay.

Ford: It’s why we are going to Washington to get the Taxpayer to pay for our clear vision and foresight.

Quantum of Bollocks

My word the tree house is looking scruffy these days. Must give Petra a call. Now Petra used to be Miss Poland in 1948 but really found her calling by starting a house cleaning business with a twist. Feather Duster Inc. is not your average cleaning company. Oh no peeps. She employs delightful damsels who dress to clients wishes while cleaning their apartments. And who said dog walking was sexy?
Petra has been part of the furniture for quiet sometime. She makes a wonderful vodka martini and has a head for heights. And in case you’re wandering she’s old enough to be my mother and dresses like a Republican, so while she puffs and dusts I‘m off to the cinema.

The new bond film is out, Quantum of Solace and is the second Bond film with the wonderful Daniel Craig. Now Quantum in Latin translates “How Much” and Solace in Her Majesty tongue means state of disappointment. That should have been a clue.

” How Much Disappointment”. Indeed, what a train wreck. I understand the shift of gears the Bond franchise has to take in today’s climate of high octane capers, but the brutish, surly, humorless Bond of 08 has been stripped of the essential characteristics we’ve come to enjoy.

Albeit very few, Casino Royal did have its moments, the new concept of James Bond has taken a nose dive off a Tuscan cliff.
Let us start with the Bond song. The song written and performed by Jack White and Alisa Keys is instantly forgettable. Charitably put, it is a Hip Hop Delta Blues mash up of Root canal agony.

Bring back Sheena Easton in her spandex I really did underestimate the 80’s.

The gadgets, where are they? Bond has to have gadgets that we in the public domain can only dream of.
Even civilians such as Petra have I Phones and soccer moms have Land Rovers. Where is the car that converts into a helicopter then back into submarine with a fold down couch for sexual refreshment?

And why has no one have a sense of humor when they giving someone Mexican bow tie. Or did we fail to recognize the attempt at humor, that the villain was French and the French were absent from the Iraq war.
The fact Bond did not seduce any skirt for the duration of the film might be grounds for treason and questions maybe raised in the House of Commons to why just about every aspect of British prowess is failing.
And where were the babes Guv’nor? And when we did see them, why is it so compelling to see their every vertebrae, I guess catering wasn’t available, cutbacks, bailout takes all.

Alas peeps it’s a sorry day when the only sexual chemistry is between Bond and M. It’s like Prince William bedding Nancy Reagan. Ah the horror…
If it wasn’t for Petra furnishing me with a redemptive Martini I would have turned in my passport.

Terrorism on the cheap

In the past three days events in Mumbai have illustrated the horrors that small arms fire can inflict. While countries around world spend millions on security, a lot of it expensive and sophisticated the tactics employed by these maniacs reinforce the notion that a well planned attack can render tremendous carnage and terror.

Clearly the Mumbai attack falls under the category of soft target, but that could be said for any major city in the world. Mumbai is a densely populated city of twenty million, hard to control and manage under any circumstances. But Times Square, Trafalgar Square, the Champs –Elysees and many more are vulnerable to similar penetration. It is the nightmare we all fear.

The choice of weaponry in this case; grenades, machine guns and inflatable boats are easy to obtain and conceal, so if a relatively small group of putrid minded individuals can cause harm by so called conventional means, what is the solution to this nihilistic approach?

Hmm...I don’t honestly have one other than the last two sentences.

But a troubling thought occurs when we cast our mind to the recent and annual fires that consume southern California. I don’t have to remind people of the devastation and anxiety it causes, and while I’m not trying to give any ideas here, but it is puzzling that a comparable group of determined undesirables hasn’t orchestrated a campaign of mayhem by deliberately starting fires.

How hard could it be?

All you would need is lighter fuel, cell phones, windy Mother Nature and a promise of twelve Hollywood virgins (if there are any?) Bingo terrorism on the cheap.

What is the answer? Go to these now branded 911 cites and support the museums, cafes, cinema and people. Let them know that life is to be lived and not surrender to the forces of nihilism.

Black Turkey Day

Happy Thanks Giving to All.

However if you are a turkey then Happy, Thanks and Giving are three words you don’t want to hear.
A pardon of one lucky turkey from highest office in the land isn’t much consolation. Particularly from clown like George Bush.

But if the sacrifice of life for the wellbeing of overstuffed Americans (I included) is giving then what noble creatures turkeys are or perhaps selflessly naive.

It is well documented that this special day highlights the acknowledgement of indigenous people (Native Americans) helping and offering starving English pilgrims food and knowledge of land cultivation.

The Mayflower contained Puritans fleeing religious persecution from a country awash in a vice grip of reformist Protestantism.

The payback was disease, slaughter and doggy ale. Not much gratitude or religious freedom there folks...

But the fact that we now give pause in a hurly-burly world to consider the virtues and grace of such giving people is a wonderful statement.
So without commerce, religion and up manship we congregate around dining room tables offering only food, drink and tales of horrendous traffic.

This communal spirit however comes to a grinding halt when retail stores punctuate the proceedings with bargains before bedtime. This encroachment of gratuitous consumption before the day is over is a hard one to swallow.

Reports of people lining up at midnight before the start of Black Friday only confirms the fraying of values once held.

And it is with great horror that people are dying in the process.

There was one bulletin posted that a young man working in a store in Valley Stream Long Island was trampled to death due to two hundred crazed shoppers.

It is really necessary to get that flat screen TV over board games?

Have we lost the art of conversation to Game boy?

In 1939 President Franklin D. Roosevelt moved up the Thanks Giving Holiday to the last Thursday in November in order to longer stimulate the Christmas holiday season.

Perhaps President Obama should have Thanks Giving moved back to June so we can enjoy the day without retail interference. The Turkeys might be in favor. That would give them a six month stay of execution.

I just called to say we're bankrupt...

Not to be out done by the Real Estate, Insurance and Financial services the three main automakers are going to Washington cap in hand.
And not content with closing plants and wanting a $25 billion bailout, they had to rub it in everyone’s face by landing at Dulles airport on Gulf Stream jets. Perhaps they should work for the airline industry… they’ll be next.

A round trip on a private jet costs roughly $20,000 compared to a First Class fare on a commercial Airline which costs $900-$1200.

How do Executives reconcile such behavior? Are they so removed from reality?

Apparently so.

Their reasoning for such funds is to maintain an industry that embodies the American iconoclastic spirit, a holy umbilical chord that cannot be severed, regardless of failing profits.

I have renamed the big three:

GM: Gross Mismanagement
Ford: Floored
Chrysler: Crisis-yler

By bailing out the automakers you have ostensibly nationalized the car industry. If that’s what you want fine, live with it. But these clowns want it both ways. They want taxpayer’s money to furnish a luxury lifestyle irrespective of dwindling sales.

With the gas prices coming down, where would be the incentive to make cars that are eco friendly? It would be back to urban tanks plowing down the high street. Wall Street has a short memory and so will Detroit if led by present foresight. The Japanese have found away to give the customer satisfaction with no call for bailout. How did we lose sight of the road? Hand off the wheel?

If a company cannot run any more due to lack of vision, talent and business acumen then market forces will render you obsolete. That is capitalism at work.

Perhaps we have arrived at a stage in the global world where countries will be designated a particular service to provide for the world.
It may fall on Japan to produce the cars for the world.
If that doesn’t sound very competitive then have a word with your Government they love printing money.

First Man Or First Lady

Let’s just say for a moment things were different. Hillary had won the primary then the general election.

In the traditional “lets go back to my place” The Bush tenants give the new occupants Hillary and First Man Bill a tour of the White House. Just imagine the scenario. George and Hillary discussing bailout and rodeos in the mahogany paneled Oval room while Laura waxes giddily about pistachio colored drapes.

This imagined state of the worlds most recognized real estate might go like this.

(In Bill Clinton drawl) You know Laura I used to live here once.

(In Laura fixed glazed look) Oh really, I didn’t realize there were other dictators before George.

(In Bill Clinton drawl) Well in my day we were called Presidents. It was a time of relative peace; we only had Israel and Palestine and the OJ Simpson trail to deal with (life’s constants). There were no wars in Iraq, Pakistan, Afghanistan and a concentration camp in the Caribbean. We didn’t have a name calling stand off with North Korea and Iran. There was a surplus in the government, a balanced budget and FEMA wasn’t equated with failure. Even Madonna was making good music.

(In Laura fixed glazed look) Well Bill you know George and I are very proud of what we have accomplished in the last eight years here in this apartment.

(In Bill Clinton drawl) Apartment! Oh you Texans love to talk big. And talking of big “The Lincoln Bedroom”, ah yes that’s where Tom Hanks slept. If I remember correctly I needed money so I let Steven Spielberg, Harrison Ford and John Travolta hangout. It was my version of a Hollywood slumber party. We would talk all night about women and movies...well Travolta didn’t ,he’s a bit you know, light on his feet..Oh Yankee doddle mighty fine times.

(In Laura fixed glazed look) Oh well Dick used to use the Lincoln Bedroom for target practice. I could never quiet figure out who the men were in orange suits.

(In Bill Clinton drawl) Awe shucks I almost forgot about the secret recording studio. Barbara Streisand and me would play Chuck Berry’s “My ding a ling” she would toot my horn and I would smoke her cigar. Yep good old Barbara, I miss her dearly.

(In Laura fixed glazed look)You don’t say? Well you know the White house is a fine place to raise children.

(In Bill Clinton drawl) Raise children? I was more like thinking Makin babies. Monica and I used to rehearsal in the Oval office but then Ken Starr had to stick his nose in and waste taxpayers money. Talk about government pork!! By the way Laura you look ravishing today.

(In Laura fixed glazed look) Hmm... Interesting I think we’d better go back to see what George is up to…

Yes We Did

Yes We Can just became Yes We Did.

From my advantage point in the tree house the night sky soars and roars with exhilaration.
To have confirmation of this joyful event you have stand at the crossroads of the world and bathe in a neon glow of America’s magnetic Square. The kaleidoscope colors of race, the cacophony of foreign tongues and the beat of the street all collectively welcome the dawn of a new leader and a new era.

To the north Harlem explodes with redemption while Times Square tells America and the world you have made the right choice.
Back at the tree house and relative calm (I swear I heard the Central Park night life let out an agreeable sigh of relief) with a celebratory Gin and Tonic close by, I sat and watched the victory speech.

I say victory speech because in general they tend to be groinpumpingassbumpingchinthrusting sing-alonggloatfests.

Not the case with the 44th President elect.

Here is a young man who calmly walked to the podium and delivered a sobering account of an outsider overcoming immense odds to realize anything in America is still possible. He also warned that while a historic moment many hurdles still lay ahead.

Due to this affirmation maybe now there might be a resurrection of American optimism radiating across the land, a fundamental characteristic that is been missing in the last eight years, A re charging of the American benevolence and inclusive partnership that this country once held.

There are tough times ahead but also exciting times ahead.

I feel we have a good person at the helm, a person who has the eloquent delivery of Martin Luther King, the intellect of Bill Clinton, the compassion of Jimmy Carter, the looks of JFK and a strong family to keep him young.

The message of change has been heard and history has been made.

OBAMA

Up here in the tree house autumn has suddenly turn into winter with alarming speed, most annoying.

However what’s more troubling, in a recent survey of my sensational E-prose I solicited comments from friends. While the majority of feed back was healthy and well received, a certain lady, name beginning with an A and ending in an A who lives up in the Bronx commented that she enjoyed the content but it was too long…

Well Ladies and Gentlemen that really seems up our world today. So to all of us with a concentration span of a Gnat I will make this posting brief and too the point.

ON TUESDAY THE 4TH OF NOVEMBER 2008

VOTE FOR OBAMA

Surprised Anyone ?

It is nine days before the 2008 election and doesn’t it seem strange that US Special Forces happened to bomb an area five miles inside the Syrian border. The reason cited by US military personal was: Uncontrolled Gateway: meaning foreign fighters flooding into Iraq from the Syria.

In July of this year senior US intelligence told the AP (Associated Press) that foreign fighters had been cut to about 20 a month which translated into 50% drop from six months ago and a fifth of the estimated 100 fighters a year ago.

While the problem of infiltration from Syria is more acute than Jordan or Saudi Arabia these border issues have been on going without any cross border violation. Isn't it odd that this sudden flare up should be so close to a change in the American Administration?

In recent months there have been vigorous efforts on part of the Europeans and Turkish and indeed Syria to secure some peace.

It is perhaps accurate to portray the Syrian leadership as unsavory in light of past events in Lebanon and Israel. But such a provocation now would prevent any meaningful dialogue for the future.

Even in the end Yasser Arafat shook hands and sat down with the Israelis and the Americans.

This perhaps last hurrah for the Bush/Cheney junta to prolong an agenda which is hell bent on blowing everything up in its path will stir the undeciders into voting for a man who shares the same mentality, as opposed to a man who believes that sensible dialogue may pave the way to a better understanding.

It would be naive to think that one could reason with everyone, the Taliban for example, but Syria is a place ripe for change.

The world clearly wants Obama for President (in fact they are gasping for it) because we are all in this together. The days of unilateralism are over. Let the talking begin.

Charitable Dictator

I was leafing through the Forbes magazine the other day and couldn’t help indulge in the top twenty richest folk in America. Always fun to see who’s up down and out. It was interesting to note that our mild mannered business savvy Mayor Michael Bloomberg had shot up the charts to number eight with twenty billion. Twenty Billion...!! Oy Vey that’s loada bagels.

With this wad of money Mike can get up to a lot of mischief. Currently he is pushing for a third term as Mayor and in doing so testing the limits of the good people of New York.

Does he want the same vice grip of Putin and Chavez?
Does he believe he’s the only man in a business suit that can save New York?

It is not surprising that a list of well heeled business and political operatives are lining up to support his proposal. This gives raise to an uneasy feeling of megalomania and business as usual.

With the sky falling and the country in the grasp of a suspect bailout a magnificent noble gesture is required. What I suggest is, give Mr. Bloomberg another four years under the condition that he has to give all his money (yes all twenty billion of it) to the state of New York.

The projected deficit of New York next year is five billion and on that gloomy schedule in four years that would add up to twenty billion. But that will not happen because Mike has declared he’s the right man for the job, therefore by ending his tenure with a surplus.

Just think this act of self sacrifice would make fine examples of the criminal CEO’s that siphoned off company money with no intention of paying back investors and workers.
Does Bear Stearns former CEO Jimmy Cayne have any desire to pay back money his company lost?
Does Lehman Bros CEO Richard Fuld?
Does Countrywide CEO Angelo Mozilo?
Does AIG Maurice Hank Greenberg?

No of course not.

Restore confidence to the city… that’s what great leaders do.
You wanna be a great leader don’t yer Mike?

So what does Mayor Bloomberg get in return?

The Keys to the city:

These are very special keys that unburden one from the concept of earning, eating, saving and stressing about affordable healthcare. Hmm..and free sex.

Absolute freedom within the law no questions asked.

These keys allow the Mayor access and purchase ad nuseum.

If the Mayor walks down the street and fancies a slice of Ben and Franks pizza it’s free.
If the Mayor takes a cab to the salon for a shampoo and set to look presentable for dinner at the Four Seasons it’s free.
If the Mayor wants to see the Mets play the Yankees in the sky box drinking Martini's from Swarovski crystal it’s free.
If the Mayor dances moonwalk style into a club and snort whipped cream of a pair of Hooters tits it’s free.
You get the picture.
Besides how does a person in their mid sixties between now and their death spend twenty billion dollars?
Unload the anxiety; show the other Wall Street Fat Cats that the mentality of Greed on Speed is not the way to live.

There's a new Marshall in town

Here at the Tree house autumn is creeping in and as I ponder the name of the actor who played the Will Kane in High Noon (Gary Cooper) four down ten across. Reverse similarities come to mind about our present financial crisis.

The Marshall is disgusted with the cowardly townsfolk and in the end and rides off into the grey (Its in black and white) beyond with his trusted wife. Today we are faced with a Marshall who is the total opposite of that character.

There’s a new Marshall in town. His name is Hank Paulson. Hank is a name that has a certain cowboy pioneering spirit to it. But this Marshall leads us to believe that everything bestowed on him is in the best interest of the American public. He has rode into town as a benevolent dictator with a Smith and Weston aimed at the temple of Congress. Scared them shitless and finally with much drama handed them a ransom note.

Some call it a rescue package but bailout seems more appropriate. While I’m not diminishing the problems we are facing, who came up with 700 billion? And how did we arrive at such a number.
Ok it has achieved its desired effect of pending doom and cataclysmic meltdown.

But let us consider what Hank (judge, executer, jury and richest man in the world) is going to do. The Treasury department has probably ten people versed in asset management, mortgage backed securities and god knows what other financial instruments. .So what happens, Ah yes you guessed it… outsourcing.

Excellent and who is going to oversee the selling of these debts the very same clowns that sold them in the first place. Hanks Hooligans at Goldman Sachs and other out of work criminals are lining up as consultants waiting to line their pockets again.

The stench of irony and conflict of trust is overwhelming. Is one man going to monitor who sells what and to whom and for what price?

Now that America is a socialist country things have become extremely convoluted. Two weeks ago America was capitalism, free trade and individual prowess. It was, “give me the tools of low taxes and deregulation and bugger off Federal government and we can create wealth and prosperity”. It was a confidence stating “have trust in me”. Well haven’t things changed?

Now Marshall Hank is saying you (The American public) can not be trusted. I will reward Wall Street for their mismanagement, corruption and greed by nationalizing the banks. All with the illusion of helping the Taxpayer.

Hmm… we can not be trusted… unlike the Bankers who can be trusted.

Well what is wrong with giving each family household a lump sum of money from a divided pool distributed through the country (now that we are socialist and all?)
I know some people will blow their wad in Vegas or on Botox, but most people realize bills have to be paid.

Let’s say 100 billion dollars. If they can throw out numbers then so can we.
With that chunk of cash people would have freedom to spend the on things that are real to them such as the mortgage, credit cards, and auto loans and so on. They know what needs have to be addressed, unlike the absurdly complex fuzzy math of Wall Street.

These clever clowns in Wall Street don’t actually know how much these securities are worth. But people on Main Street clearly know what needs to paid. If you give the people the trust and funding then the economy will rebound, confidence will be restored and possibly congressman and women might retain their seats on the Hill. But then again this has all the signs of raving capitalist speaking… jeez what I was thinking… back to the crossword puzzle.

October Surprise

Ladies and Gentlemen October has arrived and in an election year furtive as this one, what on earth is in store for us Americans?

Cast our minds back to 1980 when Jimmy Carter was hanging on in grim desperation. A certain person called George Bush Sr with CIA credentials held off the release of US hostages until Reagan clinched the White house. What could George Bush Jr/Dick Cheney be up too eh?

The Democrats might have their own Halloween nightmare brewing…

It would be correct to say that Hilary and her supporters are still seething. To lose the parties nomination after being heir apparent must hurt…BAD
However it must be said that her husband presence during the primaries was more of a hindrance than a help. The Bill Clinton halo was in need of some halogen intervention.

But redemption and virtue are qualities that America prides it’s self and with the race for the Whitehouse being too close to call, the democrats might have a use for Bill after all.
Here is how it would work.

The (Maverick…yawn) McCain has chosen a foxy babe with great fertility to be his running mate. Yes we’ve seen all the Photoshop porn courtesy of Parsons School of Design and SVA, but here’s the deal. The Democrats need to meet righteous with righteous.

Send out its chief horn dog Bill Clinton to seduce the women and let the Creationist heartland surrender to good reason. Come on peeps you know Billy wants to bed her, even Henry Kissinger said she’s the ultimate arophdisasic, and he knows a thing or two about skullduggery.

It’s the Democrats trump card, and Bill Clinton’s ticket to redemption. A couple of nights in Bill’s capable hands and the pious will be numbed into amnesia.

They will forget where the polling stations are.

They will forget their car keys.

They will forget who to vote for.

They will forget that they said the planet is only six thousand year old!!

Yes people it will be Shaggalicious.

Caught on Fox News TV and syndicated by the 700 club. Ten reasons why Sarah Palin will be voting Democrat:

1. Bill dressed up as Ronald giving Sarah a happy meal lap dance while she beams into the camera I’m Lovin It

2. Bill in JC Penny fitting Sarah out with a yellow pantsuit (stains available upon request)

3. Sarah in The Watergate hotel in a downward facing dog pose on a DNC rug while bill puffs his cigar pondering fresh pelt.

4. Having Neanderthal sex while stocking the Wasilla Library with Darwin’s On the Origin of Species

5. Caught in a Motel 6 aiming a M16 at the balls of Pat Robertson who admitted he was a con artist… Bill supplied the bullets

6. Having Burka sex while handing out Korans at a Mega church to nowhere…

7. Declared she was going to become a community leader and have sex with everyone in the hood…Bill supplied the condoms and the lipstick.

8. Declared that john McCain had a needle dick and Bill was built like a donkey.

9. Giving Bill oral pleasure while he read her the United States constitution.

10. Making out with Bill at a Rolling Stones concert.

Yes Peeps only five weeks to go.

The Swell Season

It must be Wednesday, because I received a call in the delicate hours of the morning warning me of a Latte landing. Yes he’s back comrades, and determined to ruin my stealthy recovery from the previous week.

“The Swell Season is in town” he purred, no doubt calling from that blessed IPhone.

I was in need of some music therapy consideration the current climate of financial doom.

If you saw the delightful film Once then you might know the success of the film gave birth to the principle writers and actors (Glen Hansard and Marketa IrgIova) performing songs in a collective unit know as the The Swell Season.

Rightfully it won an Oscar for best original song (Falling Slowly) thus propelling them from small town to Tinsel town.

If you did not the see the film then you will be punished by the hands of Dick Cheney; gunfire or Water boarding… the choice is yours.

The band takes its title from a book by the same. It was written by Josef Skvorecky and takes place in Nazi controlled Czechoslovakia about one mans love of music and the chase of unattainable women.

The film is set in Dublin, in the present day and plays closely to the themes in the book.

Go and see the Film... it’s unconstitutional otherwise.

This time the venue was in Central park, which was most thoughtful considering I live there. From my elevated advantage point I could see Rumsey playfield in its entire panoramic splendor.

However not impressed to watch the show from the tree house, Lousy Latte suggested backstage where the art of pressing flesh could be conducted.

Sadly we missed the two opening acts the soulful Liam O Maonlai (Hothouse Flowers) and Patty Griffin.

Right on time Glen and Marketa bounced on stage and swept into Van Morrison’s Into the Mystic followed by the hit Falling Slowly huddled closely on the piano stool, which drew great cheers from the crowd.

Marketa’s cardigan has to be a contender for Knitwear for the year.

From then on it was songs from the film interlaced with a Michelle Shocked cover and a couple of Frames songs which Glen fronts when he is in a rock ‘n’ roll mood.

Indeed, during the show the band’s numbers swelled (pun very much intended) to bass, violin and guitar augmenting beautifully the richness of the songs.

The band where dressed in Thrift store chic and the combined cost of their clothes must have added up to the price of a Bruno Magli shoelace. Glad to see Oscar triumph hasn’t dampened their busker attire.

Being Irish, Glen’s story telling was vintage Dub, funny, heartfelt and self deprecating. There was one story that humbled his new found fame. A fan in Ireland requested an autograph for his friend. He said his friend loved the music however she was deaf!! Priceless who need Oscars?

As a final song they came back on joined by the brilliant shoeless Liam O Maonlai for a gorgeous version Dylan’s Forever Young.

Oh to be in the woods with an enthusiastic crowd soaking up delicious music. It restores my faith the human spirit and all because of mahogany, spruce, wire, ebony, ivory, steel string and vocal chords. OK a little electricity for the PA, but you get the drift.

Music; what a healer?

Let us repair to the bar and rejoice in it's afterglow...and naturally we did over a most agreeable Syrah.

Swell indeed

Career Change

If you go down to midtown today your in for a great surprise.

Lehman Bros have bite the dust you can hear the brokers cries.

Midtown Manhattan is in a meltdown.

The scene over the weekend (reminiscent of the Bear Stearns collapse) was of Brooks Brother’s blazers and open neck shirts exiting Lincoln town cars, entering glass towers, had familiar anxiety about it.

The usual mob was there, Federal regulators, Dept of Treasury and the remaining bankers who had not fallen from grace were giving up another weekend away from the golf course.

Then Black Monday.

Lehman was not going to be bailed out by the government contrary to the rumor mill and therefore was facing immediate bankruptcy. Then just when you thought it could not get any worse, Bank of America scoops up Merrill Lynch for the price of a ham sandwich. Not content to be outdone AIG (American International Group) spills its guts and looks puppy dog style towards the Fed.

Tell me… can you fit all that in one headline?

Now we turn to camera shots of tearful workers carrying boxes, staring into our living rooms and offices questioning the wisdom of the government in not bailing them out.

Guess what? You said you were too big to fail.
Where does it end?
Does the taxpayer get another rear end maneuver?

I have news for you, AIG are bigger and sadly they’ll probably get DGI (divine governmental intervention.)

But as former employees ponder the future and review the banking world as a career, take a look across the pond. On the same day in London, Sotheby’s was giddy with record breaking sales of zebra’s, bulls and sharks in a tanks of formaldehyde.

The auction house was delirious with the work of one artist, Damien Hirst who racked over $200 million in two days, smashing every record by a dead or living artist.

Clearly the Art World is not in trouble. Which brings me to career change; perhaps bypass E Bay and start converting your office chairs and wares into some gold and diamond encrusted art piece.

Not that I’m inciting violence, then drag your nearest hedge fund manager and soak him in formaldehyde. Then find some in work fund manager to buy it from you for an insane amount of Euro’s.

How about that for revenge and a pension plan?

As Damien Hirst said “Art is what you can get away with”

The Clinton Ghost

Oh it’s fun having friends who move in a higher social altitude than you. My good drinking partner Lousy Latte is such a fellow. It was a call in the middle of the night that drew alarm, but the invitation promised Bill Clinton as the keynote speaker.

How could I refuse? Besides it would be bad form to decline canapés with the world’s most famous cigar handler.

The event was the 75th Anniversary of Esquire magazine and was to be held at Gotham Hall.

The venue was a classic backdrop for stylish men on the make flanked by delicate fillies fussing enthusiastically over their attire.

When inspecting the Tree house wardrobe I spotted my “off the peg” Ben Sherman suit perfect counterpoint to the Bruno Magli shoes, Paul Stuart suits, Charles Tywhitt shirts and Thomas Pink ties I had to contend with.

Kick off was at 7.30pm and the walk down from CP headquarters stirred a marvelous appetite for unabashed revelry. True to form Lousy Latte had ditched his Blackberry for the latest IPhone clearly preferring Madison Ave over Wall Street.

“I’m just trying it out” he beamed showing off photographs of his son.

Inside I felt I was in a Roman Coliseum in Flavian times. With its circular design and majestic classic pillars I thought togas rather than pin stripes.

Once the first Hendricks Martini was captured we mingled among the Magazine set while the edgy downtown girl played sensible beats on her Power Mac.
I was introduced to a gallerist whose name I completely forgot but which could not be said for his appearance. He reminded me of Dave Stewart from the band The Eurthymics.

For what it’s worth you can not under any circumstances wear tan shoes with a black pin stripe suit. I was tempted to call security.

He was perfectly pleasant and had apparently something to do with tonight’s art design.

I did wonder however how this term Gallerist came about. What’s wrong with Art dealer?

Then my Martini mind wandered into an imagined reply.

“Oh we represent the Artist and their nurturing… it’s just not transaction you know, anyway Art dealer could be mistaken for Drug dealer or Arms dealer.

We are on the right side of the law..” and it was then that I awoke to an empty glass which had to be filled.

Coming back from the bar with my liquid purchases I spotted Charlie Rose looking slightly disheveled and in need of some sleep. Naturally he was surrounded by women and God knows who wanting to be on his show. I think the magic password with Charlie is cabernet...That should secure you a place at the round table.

Lousy Latte and I were later joined by Doug Biro a former Record executive turn filmmaker whose work included Dave Mathews, Herbie Hancock and Ian McEwan.

He was here to see Bill Clinton.

Doug, you guessed it..had an IPhone, so when the conversation sagged I was in a Mexican stand off, each one trying to show off the marvels of Steve Jobs clairvoyance.

Honestly I felt I was in the texting Olympics.

By now I had gone in search of much needed food. The balance between fluids and solids were hugely uneven and if I was to focus our former intern seducer I needed to be at my best,
or at least vertical.

With my first plate of food came the first speech by Kevin O'Malley the publisher who looked stealth in his navy blue suit; however I can’t remember much other than it must have been a moral booster considering the downturn in ad revenue.

Next was David Granger the editor in chief who looked like a better dressed Phil Collins yet again I couldn’t remember bugger all about what he said. But he did use cue cards which I thought was a little Jeopardy.

When Bill Clinton arrived at the microphone an enormous cheer filled the room affirming his celebrity status. Looking fit and healthy and grinning from ear to ear he commented that being at Gotham Hall made him feel like Batman. Clearly Esquire had spent most of the evening’s budget on the Clinton aura and the seven minutes worth didn’t disappoint.

First he thanked the former speakers for all their efforts, and then he thanked Esquire for including his wife in the 75 most influential people.

He spoke of a future of shared values and America’s slip in the world in comparison to China, citing better infrastructure and quicker internet speed. The 21st century provided huge challenges, and are we equipped to deal with them?

Insecurity and climate change was mentioned and the need too have a more allies than adversaries. And in closing he made the analogy of the USA basketball team winning the gold medal as a team in Beijing.

Leron James was a celebrity guest, but was MIA. It wasn’t like he could hide!

It was vintage Clinton, no cue cards, no script, just effortless delivery. Then he disappeared just like Batman.

We turned back to our drinks and pondered on the dollar minute ratio. Did he do it for free or donate his fee to his charity?

On exiting the hall Leron James appeared with his friends sizing up the room looking like a banker.

Outside in the street, the conversation turned from congratulations to where on earth do we drink next? Wisely we fought off those tempting impulses and bid farewell.

I strolled home back to the Tree house and I couldn’t help think that Clinton still had the magic, but it was ghost like.

A new generation had arrived and he was a reluctant to give it up.

Levi Johnston RIP

Let me be as clear as possible,” Obama said. “I think people’s families are off-limits, and people’s children are especially off-limits. This shouldn’t be part of our politics. It has no relevance to Gov. Palin’s performance as governor or her potential performance as a vice president.” .

Thanks for the concern but hear me out please...

I know what you are doing right now ...watching my future mother in law speak to the world.
Yeah great... but spare a thought for me.

A week ago I was out fishing with my buddies, kicking back a few beers thinking about all the pretty girls I'm gonna date. Known to the world by twenty people.

And Now look !! some crusty old bad tempered french fry has outed me to the world.

I 've never heard of John McCain. I though he was a potatoe.http://www.mccain.com/index.htm

We don't have television up here in Alaska. We just have crazy names like Track and Trig and Bristol.

He has just mapped out my life in a week.

And his dreadful wife Candy or whatever her name is, she wants me to drink Bud lite. Bud lite !! we feed Bud lite to the Mouse !!

I'm screwed... even if I wanted to break up Bristol how could I ? I have more flash bulbs than Brad and Angelina giving birth.

I would leave the country but no one in Alaska has a passport, not even mummy Sarah !!

So when you see me tonight, on stage chewing gum looking tough and Johnny Rotten like, feel my pain.If Crusty McCain wins I'm going Into the Wild.

Levi Johnston (1990-2008)

Explaining Palin

Oh fiddlesticks the Democrats and some women in particular (Oprah) are getting their knickers in a twist. This Sarah Palin threat is only as potent as you let it be.

Let's put things in perspective shall we.

Sarah Palin’s entrance was a good night for her and the GOP. It is wonderful to see a woman up for the VP post.
However; Not the right woman. Not the right party.

She happens to be an attractive, feisty, funny woman. With her easy smile and folksy manner she has captivated the screen and succeeded in the big gamble that McCain is trying to pull off.

I agree soccer moms; it is irresistible to think that she looks like you. That was the calculation.

Meanwhile it reeks of Karl Rove. The plan is to appease the base support of the GOP a successful tacit employed by Rove which worked well yester year but will not work this time.

I can see the mega church’s parking lot awash with disciples on bended knee in a Palin prayer.

The plan to pick someone outside the Washington elite and beltway and capture perhaps some pissed off Hilary supporters is an admirable one, but really folks, how transparent.

The woman is a Social Conservative appealing to the extreme Right.

The Maverick McCain is trying to cover all areas. Not to mention covering all the lobbyists.

Let's look at her record:
Pro Life
Pro NRA
Drill for Oil at all costs
Bought the Governorship by BP
Just got a passport.

It was wonderful that in the 80’s Great Britain had a woman Prime Minister that ruled for eleven years. It just happened she was the wrong person for the job.

It is wonderful that Condi Rice is a black woman Sectary of State. She just happens to be the wrong woman.

Now the queen of soap, Oprah has seen it not fit to have her on the show.

Honestly, talk about an open forum. The last thing Democrats want are Hollywood tears forfeiting the election.

All this talk of sexism is tiresome.

Lets us concern ourselves with the issues. Vote on the politics and not on color and sex.

Terror Alert

Greetings

I take no credit for this piece of malarky but thought I'd progagate it's profound silliness.

As many are aware, the French government recently announced a raise in its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide". The normal level is "General Arrogance", and the only two higher levels in France are "Surrender" and "Collaborate". The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France 's white flag factory, effectively paralysing the country's military capability.
It's not only the French who are on a heightened level of alert: Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout loudly and excitedly" to "Elaborate military posturing". Two more levels remain, "Ineffective combat operations" and "Change sides".
The Germans also increased their alert state from "Disdain" to "Dress in uniform and sing marching songs". They have two higher levels: "Invade a neighbour" and "Lose".
Seeing this reaction in continental Europe the Americans have gone from "Isolationism" to "Find another oil-rich nation for regime change". Their remaining higher alert states are "Attack random countries (ideally those without any credible military)" and "Beg the British for help".
The British are also feeling the pinch in relation to recent bombings and have raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved". Soon though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross". Londoners have not been "A Bit Cross" since the Blitz in 1940 when tea supplies all but ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to "Bloody Nuisance". The last time the British issued a "Bloody Nuisance" warning level was during the Great Fire of 1666.
The Australians thought about doing something but have decided that their security level of "She'll be right mate" is enough.