Paulson's Unpleasant Economic Chemotherapy

Something smells in the basement. It's either really bad meat, or very good cheese. I think Sammy the wonderdog is taking out a colony of mice down there. I don't know if Sammy is killing them out of natural hunting instincts, or she doesn't appreciate that mice and large dogs don't make good playmates. Kind of like when Lennie accidentally kills Curley's wife in Of Mice and Men because he strokes her hair too hard, not realizing his own strength. Either way, she's better than a barn cat, and is always happy to see you when you come home. You can't buy that kind of love - well, I guess you can, but you'll eventually need to get some blood tests and penicillin.

The Treasury Department's planned Wall Street bail out spear headed by Secretary Hank Paulson is giving many of us pause. The thought of such a large distribution of Federal money to the private sector at the expense of the taxpayers should cause any conservative to cringe. There are screams coming from both sides of the spectrum for decidedly different reasons, but National Review's Victor David Hanson puts some much needed perspective on the situation.

"In the sudden rush to blame the (supposed) crooks in DC and on Wall Street, we should first take a long look in the mirror. For two decades, we — as in we Americans — expected to buy homes, flip them, and walk away with thousands — without much thought about what might happen to the johnny-come-lately at the bottom of the pyramid when the game was finally up and housing prices cooled or crashed. Walking away from a mortgage on a house with negative equity was "smart;" putting someone in one who had no ability to come up with a down payment, monthly payments, taxes, and maintenance was "fair"; borrowing unduly against equity for cash expenditures was "understandable.

"We deified the masters of hedge funds, derivatives, and subprime mortgages, forgetting that passé oil production, mining, farming, manufacturing, engineering and construction were the real sources of our material wealth.

"We assumed mega-returns on our portfolios, without a thought what Wall Street did to get them, or the effect on others who needed to borrow at such high interest to run their businesses. Ours became a culture that wanted larger cars but less drilling to fuel them, more stuff and more credit from — and more anger at — the Chinese; less taxes but even more government hand-outs; ever more electricity, but fewer icky coal and nuclear plants — and always more health-care, education-care, prescription drug-care, housing-care, and always less care how to pay for it.

"So by all means let us prosecute the lawbreakers, finger-point at the enablers, lecture the stupid, but at least spare us the sanctimonious "they" did this to poor "us." If there were not a Senate Banking Chairman like Chris Dodd without shame cozying up to the creeps at Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae, or a Richard Fuld playing casino roulette with someone else's money, we would have had to invent them.

"We should argue over the course of Paulson's unpleasant chemotherapy to deal with these symptoms of a metastasizing disease, but let us at least consider what were the catalysts for that deeper cancer."

Keen insight from a brilliant guy.

Enjoy one of my favourite songs, Wave Of Mutilation, by the Pixies, with my apologies for the dumb youtube video.

Cordially

Joe

Faceblah Part Deux - Weekend Greetings

Well over a decade ago, I remember some self-professed "technology expert" from the New York Times - with all the pompous self-righteousness that could only come from someone who worked for the Times - proclaim that the Internet was becoming such an unstoppable force because men love technology and men love porn. It was the sort of statement that perfectly encapsulated the thinking of the left-wing media intelligentsia - A quick witty repartee that rolled nicely off the tongue but offered little in actual substance. Mr. Techno-porn produced no facts, no figures, no fancy schmancy pie-chart graphics that illustrated what percentage of heavy breathers spent more time and money on the Internet in comparison with, say, folks who bought books on Barnes and Nobles, kids researching science projects, or Moms outfitting the family for the perfect fall picture on LL Bean. Nope, just a smug little comment and an "oh my goodness I'm so clever" look on his face, shared by all in the studio at CNN.

Putting dollars, cents, and guys with sticky keyboards aside, a much more irritating trend was emerging on the Internet. It was certainly less disturbing then wondering why your husband always shut down all his browsers every time you entered the room, but it was every bit as annoying - Social networking.

I've written about this before, and I have acquiesced to the caveat that we must give a piece of our soul to the great cyber gods. My once booming website has since become humble blog, which demands constant updating because of the rapid-fire pace of social networking sites and blogs in general. As you know, if you're a fan of constant updating, I may not be your man. Bookmark the site and visit, say, once a week. At least you get quality for your time...Well, depending on whether or not you abide by good taste and proper sleeping habits. Speaking of which, there is Facebook.

If the Internet is cyber-crack for the masses, Facebook is cyber-crack laced with meth. Facebook allows you to see what others have posted, and when and how often they've posted. Judging by a few quick scans, some of my friends don't sleep or go to work. I glanced at a friend's listings, and they posted or sent something out about every 1 to 2 hours for almost 3 days straight. You have to wonder what the hell is going on with someone when you see a post dated 3:31AM saying "Peggy Sue is wondering where everyone is". Here's a hint: Probably sleeping, Peggy. That would be a reasonable guess.

Another amusing thing are the ratings, or rankings, or whatever the heck they're called. Apparently, out of my group of friends, I'm consistently rated "Top Scientist". Really? I have to use my fingers to count. My parents did most of the work on my science projects in junior high, and when they didn't, I would just wrap a bunch of oranges in tin foil and stand in front of the class proclaiming "BEHOLD THE MIGHTY PLANETS", then sit down.

Remember 6 degrees to Kevin Bacon? I was never a fan, but I loved the concept, because it brought back the old fashioned parlour game where people would have to sit together, face to face, and socialize. If you've spent anytime on Facebook, people invite each other to cyber paint ball games and mafia wars, where they've conveniently taken out all the bother of human interaction. When people are out in public, I notice that manners are eroding, and am frequently shocked to see someone pick something up at a convenience store or coffee shop without making the slightest acknowledgement that there is a real person serving them. They simply mutter their orders and don't say another word or make eye contact. I know the coin flips the other way as well, but believe me, the reason the kids behind the counter don't talk to you much at late night burger joints is because most of them are higher than moon bats.

Now - Shut off your computers and go do something really crazy. Make a meal together with your significant other while playing some Brett Dennon, sit down, and....have a conversation.

Cordially

Joe

Sick Leave Blues

I'm off work for two months on the order of my esteemed doctor. It may sound like heaven to most people to get paid to do nothing, but I assure you it's about as stimulating as listening to an audio book of Soylent Green read by Senator Robert Byrd. The first couple of weeks off I watched movies all day long. I usually go through phases where I watch certain directors, but this time, I decided to go by theme, in this case three distinct themes. The first few days I watched tons of movie made about Hitler and the fall of the Third Reich (lots of 'last days in the bunker' sort of stuff). After about the third day of this, I'm pretty sure the owner of the small independent video store began suspecting that I was some kind of neo-Nazi. After my Third Reich phase came my Holocaust phase, renting the usual and some lesser known titles. During this phase I was certain the video store owner was thinking I was trying to atone for my brief stint as a neo-Nazi. The last phase I like to call "pay back time" - I rented movies about the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, Munich, and The Sword of Gideon.

When I was returning some movies about the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, I realized I was looking awful because I'm on lots of very strong medication for my heart and blood pressure and hadn't left the house very often. Thinking I needed to make some explanation for my appearance, I looked up at the poor clerk and said "I'm off work because the doctor says I'm sick". Now, if that clumsily worded excuse wasn't bad enough to freak out the video store dude, I realize he was not looking at me, but at the video cover that depicts a Jewish resistance fighter with one fist thrust in the air, and the other holding a rather imposing looking rifle. Now, I'm guessing at this point he thinks I've gone over the edge and one day am going to smash through the front door of his store with a star of David on my chest and a double barrel shot gun. To make matters worse, I simply left the store without waiting for a response from him, or clarification on my part about what "sick" meant. I imagine the guy now goes through his days white-knuckling it and jumping a mile every time he hears the door open.

Anyway, needless to say, movies are getting boring, and it's hard to blog on politics right now. Though my mind is overflowing, my fingers are finding it hard to clack out the proper words.

I went to 2 hockey games on the weekend featuring the world famous Saint John Sea Dogs who, with grit that would have made the Spartan 300 proud, came back to tie a game against the Bathurst Titans with just 26 seconds left in the 3rd period, going on to win in overtime. The Sea Dogs are off to a promising season and have the full support of everyone here at the Straight Hype - all three of us, for what it's worth. We meet in a phone booth every Friday.

Have a great week everyone. I'll be off to Halifax visiting some friends. I leave you with the sweet sounds of Joe Purdy singing his wonderful song "Suitcase".

GO MCCAIN/PALIN

Cordially

Joe

Blogging by Numbers - The Blog to Nowhere!!

My good buddy Ace over at his home base put together a rather interesting list of idle ruminations that I loved. Lately I have lots of time to catch up on the various blogs and Internet sites I find invaluable, as I have been placed on a two month paid medical leave at the behest of my doctor who is struggling to get my diastolic pressure down from its currently alarming numbers. When I use those do it yourself blood pressure machines at the local pharmacy, I like to leave my numbers up on the screen for the person waiting behind me. It's fun to watch their expressions, which are remarkably similar to those youtube videos of people watching 2 Girls 1 Cup for the first time. It's been 4 years and 2 months since I last had a drink, but it seems my body is still dealing with the effects of years of 3 beer breakfasts, and weekend binges that would start on Friday, and stop when I ran out of booze and/or money - usually it was the latter. It's a miracle that aside from high blood pressure, some minor heart and stomach problems, I am otherwise healthy.

Let us begin.

1 - You know what really bugs me? People who quote country music songs under any circumstances when trying to emphasize a point. Like when people say, "Hey, yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery", or "I'm in a hurry to get things done...just like the song says, man". Of all the wonderful axioms and sayings that have been left to us though the ages by philosophers and poets, why do people scrape the bottom of the intellectual barrel and clog up the air with idiot pollution? I am known by my friends and colleagues as a polite and cheery person with a quick wit and self-effacing manner, but I swear to Zeus I'm going to Jap-slap the next person who assaults my ears with red-neck witticisms.

2 - Sarah Palin is the best thing McCain could have done for himself, and the apoplectic response from the left wing bloggers - instantly parroted by the media - have finally awoken the sleeping giant of conservatives, Christian conservatives, and right of center moderates who were going to sleep through this election. This attractive and articulate lady, who last night spoke so touchingly about raising a child with down syndrome, no doubt picked up a large swath of the soccer mom vote as well. Obama, who has sucked up every minute of press attention for the last seven months, is now out of the spotlight. Sarah Palin is tough and smart, and is exactly what McCain needed. A race that once was in doubt now seems to be within reach of John McCain. It is going to be such a sweet sight to watch the podheads over at moveon.org and Code Pink when they hear the words "President Elect, John McCain". These bastards cheered and made the most horrific slanderous comments when the father of modern conservatism, William F Buckley Jr., died. I will spare them no quarter when we send their self appointed messiah packing.

3 - You should really watch The Aura by the late Argentinean director Fabián Bielinsky. It is a smart, suspenseful film, and it is a pity it will be the last film by this talented director, who died tragically young of a heart attack.

4 - I was sorely disappointed by "The Dark Night", though I had high expectations for the film. Heath Ledger was truly amazing, but everything else was just standard popcorn fare. I'll watch it again when the DVD comes out, but I doubt I'll be any more impressed than the first time I saw it.

5 - It makes me sad that Spanish and French films are usually better then most of the stuff spit out of Hollywood's pretentious slop bucket. Example - In Luc Besson's Angel-A, the movie's main character goes to a local Paris police station trying to get himself arrested in an attempt to hide from some nasty loan sharks coming to collect from him. He is refused, and in a fit of frustration exclaims, "I'm an Arab with no papers! What's the problem?"

6 - PS - They're called "comic books", and I refuse to call them "graphic novels" to bow to the pretensions of a few hard core geeks who flunked out of art school.

7 - I'm going to call it quits for today, because I'm not feeling well and this blog isn't going anywhere, or least anywhere interesting or funny. Have a good weekend and enjoy this They Might Be Giants classic, "Older".

Cordially

Joe

The Great Obama Bubble Burst

I remember in my youth, my next door neighbor managed to grow an outrageously gigantic pumpkin. He had been trying for years, and finally - with the proper mix of soil, night protection, and various types of animal feces - he succeeded in growing a pumpkin rivaling the size of a half-ton truck. So massive was this pumpkin that were there any pagans in my small French Acadian neighborhood, they would have stripped naked and danced around the gigantic gourd in the moonlight. Now, he wasn't the type to take his prized overgrown squash on the road and enter it in the local fair to win the coveted blue ribbon - his ambitions lay on the most hallowed of tooth decaying festivals, Halloween.

The pumpkin reached it's full fruition in late September, so it was with some puzzlement that my family saw him sawing a massive hole in the top of the pumpkin and shoveling its guts out before October had even arrived. As the week pressed on, he sawed and chiseled at the thing until he had managed to carve an imposing looking Jack-O-Lantern. He put it on his front yard and lit it with all sorts of mega wattage lights that could have provided sufficient illumination for a Rolling Stones concert. He lit it for a few days, and people drove by and oohed and aahed, but then he abruptly pulled the plug on Mr. Pumpkin until the big night. Unfortunately, by Halloween, when he lit the thing, it looked the melting face of that guy at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. The left eye had rotted away into the nose portion, and the mouth was barely discernible. It looked like a massive tumor was on display on his front lawn. Those who waited with smaller, less imposing pumpkins stole the show. All my neighbor could do was lock himself in his house, drown himself in peach schnapps, and wonder how such a wondrous pumpkin could have turned into such a disaster.

Enter Barack Obama, the disfigured pumpkin on the front lawn, who tonight is facing the beginning of a convention with a highly divided party and a populous who are starting to see the veneer rust off his shiny exterior. As we go to print, Obama's once comfortable lead has disintegrated into a dead heat with McCain, each sharing 37% of the vote. His choice of Joe Biden as a running mate is a tacit admission that he a naif when it comes to foreign policy, and that he desperately needs to shore up the "new democratic" wing of the party that he hopes Biden will be able to capture for him. Senator Biden is also a self-aggrandizing ego-maniac who risks going off message on the campaign trail, creating new messes for Team Obama to sweep up after.

So far this strategy has been disastrous. In a conference call this morning, the Obama camp was unsuccessful at dispelling rumours swirling in the press that Clinton supporters are almost coming to blows with the Obama people over how much time and autonomy Bill and Hillary will be given at the convention. Clinton supporters are protesting outside the convention center in Denver, and delegates are speaking openly to the press that they are still going to cast their vote for Hillary. Convention organizers are quietly speaking to reporters about their fears of a "nightmare scenario" that would entail renegade Hillary supporters causing trouble, and Bill going off message and embarrassing Obama.

...and the tale of the rotting Pumpkin gets even more interesting. At a non-televised test poll, conducted by Frank Luntz among Democrats and undecideds, when asked to describe Obama, they used words like "scary”, “new”, “terrifying”, “unknown”, “inexperienced”, “unaffordable” , and even “apocalypse” - when card carrying Democrats use a word more fitting to describe a Mad Max movie, you know you're in trouble. When these same people where asked to use words that best described what they thought of McCain, they said things like “dependable”, “strong”, “patriot”, “veteran”, “experienced”, “honest”, “older”, and “integrity”.

The McCain camp took full advantage of the situation and released a litany of ads showing a former Hillary supporter who has never voted Republican before throwing away her "Hillary 08" sign, and proudly displaying her new "McCain '08" sign. All of this is mixed with clips of Hillary Clinton taken from the campaign trail describing what a disaster it would be to vote for Obama. Hillary later took a moment to disassociate herself from the ads, but it was half-hearted at best.

And then, there is the litany of shady characters and friends of Obama.

1 - Tony Rezko - Tony Rezko is a former real estate broker and political fund raiser. In 2003 Rezko helped raise $14 Million for Obama's senate campaign. In 2005 Rezko helped Obama to secure a $1.5 million house, a suspicious $300,000 below the market value. In 2008, Rezko was found guilty of 16 charges of using his influence to demand kickbacks from companies wanting to do business in the state. Rezko was a close associate of Senator Obama, which means the Senator is either extremely corrupt, or extremely naive - either answer screams that he is unfit to serve as President.

2- Bill Ayers - Bill Ayers is someone Obama has claimed as a friend and mentor, and coincidentally, is one of his next door neighbors. Ayers was the co-founder of the violent terrorist group "The Weatherman", responsible for a litany of atrocities in the 1960's including the bombings of of the Capitol building in 1971, the Pentagon in 1972, and the New York City Police Headquarters in 1970. In an interview with the Chicago Tribune, Ayers admitted that a bomb destined for a nearby military base accidentally exploded, killing 3 of the group's members. In 2001 he claimed he regretted that he did not inflict more damage on the Pentagon the day he bombed it. No wonder Obama says he is willing to meet with any leader from a terrorist nation. He has lots of practice at home.

3 - The Reverend Jeremiah Wright - Here is another one of Obama's former friends and mentors, and was the Senator's Pastor for close to two decades. Reverend Wright likes to rant on about the evils of Israel, jump up and down like a crazed Eddie Murphy character screaming "God Damn America", and - like Adolf Hitler - is a proponent of Eugenics, believing the brains of white and black people work differently. Obama continued to defend the Reverend, claiming the quotes had been taken out of context, until Wright appeared at a National Press Club event where he clearly asserted that these where indeed his core beliefs for the last 20 years, and it would have been impossible for Obama not to have known that as a regular parishioner. If my priest began to preach that raccoons were messengers from God, and that deceased pets from his childhood came to visit him at night with advice from the Big Guy, I would be out of the door quicker than you can say; "That guy is nuttier that squirrel shit".

4- Obama's Own Massive Ego - There's little doubt left in my mind that once inspirational junior Senator from Illinois developed a Messianic complex somewhere along the campaign trail. On June 3rd Obama sent pundits into fits of bowel loosening laughter when he proclaimed;

"...generations from now, we will be able to look back and tell our children that this was the moment when we began to provide care for the sick and good jobs to the jobless; this was the moment when the rise of the oceans began to slow and our planet began to heal...This was the moment - this was the time..."

Quite the fella this Obama guy. Jonah Goldberg retorted;

"The Barack Obama I know is going to make the ocean levels sink -- cats and dogs are going to sleep together...Obama's workers are not supposed to talk about the issues, they're supposed to talk about how they...'came to Obama' -- like how some people say they came to Jesus"

Obama is in trouble. The Senator road the waves of his celebrity appeal, but the cracks are starting to show, and people are asking if the "change" Obama keeps talking about is just more of the same old re-hashed expensive Jimmy Carter liberalism. The so-called "Skinny kid with the funny name" is starting to resemble the giant rotting pumpkin that once adorned my neighbor's lawn. Those who had sufficient alcohol and Gravol to endure day one of the Democratic convention last night got a bizarrely sedated snooze fest. The only highlight was watching creepy looking old ladies wearing so much make up I wondered if they were drag queens from the San Fransisco delegation, weeping over Michelle Obama's tough times on the South Side.

Anyway, there it is. The much awaited Obama piece. To be fair to Obama fans, I've included an Obama quote that will lift your spirits;

"The world will not help, the people must help themselves. Its own strength is the source of life. That strength the Almighty has given us to use; that in it and through it, we may wage the battle of our life. The others in the past years have not had the blessing of the Almighty - of Him who in the last resort, whatever man may do, holds in His hands the final decision. Lord God, let us never hesitate or play the coward"

Did that inspire you? Oh wait, that wasn't a quote from Obama. That was a quote from Adolf Hitler.

Cordially

Joe

Watergate Whiners

Scientists claim addictive behaviors are caused by deficiencies in the pleasure centers of the brain. Though my sub-par marks in high school chemistry have forever branded me really bad science guy, I can cautiously assume that folks much wiser than I have determined that deficiencies in the pleasure centers (stop giggling) differ from your garden variety cases of clinical depression. This means, after careful analysis by really bad science guy, that there is a certain cause and effect to the phenomenon known as the addictive personality. Clinically depressed Bob just can't motivate himself to get out of bed and plant some roses. Addictive personality Bill has no problems planting the roses, but feels it just isn't the same without a pint of vodka and a bottle of Vicodin. Fair enough.

...And so, the 34th anniversary coverage of Watergate began (If you're wondering where I'm going with this, that makes two of us).

34 years ago, a politician lied. No kidding, this actually happened. A member of this elite group of morally unflappable guardians of civic virtue actually stood in front of the naive, doe-eyed masses and said something that wasn't exactly the truth. Apparently, if very important pundits with really great teeth are to be believed, this was the darkest day in American History; 57% of Americans agree, though only 14% admit to actually knowing anything about it. It's a very dark and important day because those who made their careers on it say so. Without the myth of Watergate, there would be no bubble gum news outfits like CNN, no Geraldo Rivieras, no 60 Minutes, and certainly no sitcoms about spunky female reporters who stick it to the patriarchy.

Watergate anniversaries are always difficult times to remain sober for anyone who doesn't eat things off the floors of public washrooms. Watergate is the most overblown scandal since Bob Dole popped Viagra to celebrate his 70th birthday. The media suffers from an acute case of addictive punditry. Not content to lie in bed in a state of lethargic contemplation, they want to party until last call, or until it's time to put Bob Woodward back into cryogenic stasis. The pleasure center of their collective brain is malfunctioning, and only hour-long documentaries about the day we lost our innocence will cure them.

To buy into the traditional media version of Watergate, one must first suspend all rational thought and believe two rather astounding assertions:

1) Before Watergate, Americans trusted their Government and its institutions.

Please. This must be the only day in history where the media forgets the 60's ever happened. Remember the 60's? You know, hippies, massive protests, taking it to the streets, don't trust anyone over 30? A movement that was sparked by mass disenfranchisement with government? The Civil War, the bloodiest conflict in American history, was a direct result of vehement dissatisfaction over the policies of the Lincoln Administration. Mistrust in government was a staple of American culture long before Nixon famously waved the V-sign from the open door of Air Force One. From Hollywood's flirtation with communism to the divisive fight for racial equality in the 60's, Americans have never been fond of Government.

2) Watergate was the gravest abuse of power in American history.

I wonder how much media attention will be given this month to the 64th anniversary of the day FDR completed the unlawful round up and detainment 120,000 Japanese-American citizens from the Pacific Coast? How about when Bobby Kennedy, the Patron Saint of American civil rights, bugged the offices of Martin Luther King Jr. (Ironically, this also required a group of fellows to break into an office in the dead of night)?

Despite the litany of allegations damning Nixon, only one small piece of evidence ties Nixon to the Watergate cover-up - a recording of Nixon brainstorming with Chief-of-Staff H. R. Haldeman in the wake of the arrest of the Watergate burglars. In the scratchy recording, Nixon advises Haldeman to have Deputy CIA Director Vernon Walters call FBI Director Pat Gray and request: ''We wish, for the good of the country, (that you) don't look any further into this case."

For all the talk of extortion, bribery, and strong-arm FBI tactics, that one statement is the evidentiary extent of Nixon's culpability.

Yet, on go the Watergate anniversary festivities, set to the endless drum beat of somber editorials dripping with inane metaphors. Nixon is hardly history's worst villain, though Watergate will forever be the epitaph of his legacy. He was a pensive bureaucrat, with a penchant for big government solutions at the slightest hint of a problem. He was plagued by insecurity, despite his astonishing intellect, and the role of president hung ill on his shoulders. He is fondly remembered by his staff for his graciousness and warmth. He knew the name of every cook and chauffeur, and was generous with his time and money to their families. He was a consummate author, penning over 2 dozen books and hundreds of articles in his lifetime. Every president from Reagan to Clinton sought out his advice in the midst of their most dire foreign policy crises.

But what does it matter? Every August 9th is Nixon bashing day. I'm staying home from the party - call me in the morning.

Cordially

Joe

Rush X 20

Most conservatives in their mid-thirties (yeah, that's me) cut their teeth on Rush Limbaugh. Despite the ever present National Review standing athwart history, and the Reagan years still fresh in mind, the left continued to have a stranglehold on the language and nuances on the overall public discussion. Not that lively discussion wasn't readily available to political junkies and policy wonks on shows like Crossfire and William F Buckley's much missed Firing Line. Outside these circles however, the words and ideas of what it meant to be a conservative, and the means to articulate and define your beliefs in public discourse, were largely missing. Democrats had the same old talking points that had remained unchanged since the party was hijacked by the extreme left in the mid-60's, and conservatives often fired back with the same tired old lines about their adversaries being "pinko-hippies", or resorted to religious come-backs that only served to re-enforce existing stereotypes, be it fair or not.

Then 20 years ago, a plump, cigar chomping man who was completely unapologetic about his conservatism arrived on the scene. It started with the radio show, then a short lived TV show, and then, of course, the book that changed everything...The Way Things Ought To Be. The book was revolutionary in the sense that it challenged all the iron clad assertions of the left in language that was accessible to anyone without being dumbed down. The book provided ammunition for the long suffering conservative middle class who had lacked the language and time to fight the good fight on the verbal front. The book was an immediate #1 best seller, and tore down the left's sacred cows of environmentalism, animal rights, socialism, and political correctness. Suddenly smug liberals spouting on about the ever looming environmental crisis if we didn't mend our gluttonous Western ways were smacked in the face with the question;

"Really? Mount Pinatubo in the Philippines spewed forth more than a thousand times the amount of ozone-depleting chemicals in one eruption than all the fluorocarbons manufactured by wicked, diabolical and insensitive corporations in history.... Mankind can't possibly equal the output of even one eruption from Pinatubo, much less 4 billion years' worth of them, so how can we destroy ozone?"

As William F Buckley wrote, it was "...a jolt of champagne!", and liberals were absolutely apoplectic. President Bill Clinton threw a famous temper tantrum over Limbaugh's almost daily beratement of him, and Congress even went so far as to try to muzzle him by passing an ominous sounding bill called the "fairness doctrine". All failed, and for almost 2 decades the left has tried to emulate Limbaugh's success, but have never even come close.

As a young conservative, I knew in my heart my cherished beliefs were right, but with the steady wave of liberal messages cunningly slithering their way into popular culture, it was easy to begin to assume that things like environmentalism were just readily accepted facts, instead of scare mongering being pandered about by agenda-driven special interests groups. Rush tore the roof off the liberal hen house, and things were never the same again.

I have to admit that I haven't listened to Rush in years, though I do read the occasional transcripts from his show. Limbaugh provided me with the foundation to move on to a meatier, more intellectual style of conservatism. I moved on to James Bowman, read National Review with a renewed vigour, discovered Mark Steyn and Jonah Goldberg, and gained an assurance about my ideals and beliefs that grew in the fertile soil of Rush Limbaugh's radio show and books.

Congratulations on 20 years of excellence in broadcasting, Rush. You changed things forever, and may you continue to do so for another 20 years.

Cordially

Joe

ZIP IT!!!

I am not an anti-social person by any stretch of the imagination. The restraining order against me greatly prohibits my contact with others, but when the restrictions are relaxed, I am a great guy to be around. Anyone one who knows me is aware that good manners and etiquette are one of the most important values I hold dear -and manners, as I define them, is being polite to people, especially when the other person is making it very hard to do so. Politeness is artificial good humor, as Jefferson once said. Manners are the last remaining vestige of what historians refer to as the western honour culture, and anyone who has recently received rotten customer service at the local burger joint by the green haired, multi-pierced kid behind the counter knows exactly what I'm talking about. Keeping this in mind, there are people with whom I find it difficult to hold to my own personal code of ethics - I call them bus buddies.

Bus buddies are people who lack basic social skills who sit next to you on a bus, plane, train, or shuttle. They - like people who overshare the details of their usightly skin conditions - also lack something that I call the verbal filter. The verbal filter is that little stop sign we all possess that prevents us from making inappropriate comments during day to day conversation.

Example: Say you're in the middle of a job interview, and your potential employer asks you what negative qualities you posses. Now, maybe you like to start off your morning downing jello shooters and mowing your lawn in the nude. For most of us, our personal filter would clamp our tongue shut before we volunteered that information and were promptly escorted from the building by security. Some people don't have - or choose not to use - their own personal information filter.

Bus buddies are the dread of every frequent flyer, and I seem to attract them the way Barney Frank attracts muscle bound Italian boys.

Claire and I flew on a major American airline carrier - I lose the term "airline" loosely because it seemed more like a school bus with wings. Claire was seated to the right of me, and my bus buddy was waiting to pounce on the left. Something creeped me out about the guy, and the moment I made eye contact, I found out why. For the next 3 hours he shot questions at me like he was skeet shooting at a clay pigeon - "Whatchya reading?", "What's it about?", "Where did you get your tattoo?", "Did you see the new Batman movie?", "Do you wish you had a motorcycle like Batman?"

I am a patient person, but I felt like weeping.

Anyway, I should take a breather to re-examine the old gratitude meter. I got to go to Miami and spend time in paradise with the lovely miss Claire and her folks. It can get hectic out there. Always take a moment during the day to think of your kids, or your loved ones, and realize just how lucky you are.

Cordially

Joe

Meet Me in Miami

It's 1:20am Thursday morning, and the lovely Miss Claire and I are preparing to jump in the car to take a 5:00am flight out of Halifax with a stop over in Newark, then off to Miami - the Fairmont Turnberry Isle Resort and Club in Miami to be exact. Those of you who are regular readers know I am not a heat person, so while I am thrilled, I am not exactly looking forward to the oppressive molten lava heat of Florida. I can't wait to go to a little spot called "La Hacienda" for Cuban sandwiches with black beans and yellow rice. Apart from that, the trip will comprise of the compulsory pilgrimage to West Palm Beach where I can horrify the locals with my impressive Canadian body mass index, brought about by countless weekends sitting on my ass and stuffing dill pickle chips down my gullet. My family crest has a picture of a remote control on it - we are more familiar with the words nap and fried shrimp than we are with words like jog and move it will ya?

Anyway, in regards to the last post.

Do you feel a little dirty? Like you've been used? Like the time uncle Larry sat you on his lap at Christmas time and, through his gin soaked breath, told you the joke about how milk and cookies aren't the only things that Santa chews on when he comes down the chimney? You didn't quite get the joke, but you that felt something very wrong had just transpired. When you went to bed you made sure you locked the door - a habit you still fastidiously re-enact to this day. Well, you should feel a little dirty, because I did use you. My last blog post, though every word was heartfelt, was meant to be inflammatory. I could have called it "the problem with Canada", or as my fellow blogger and former economic editor is fond of saying, "Cuba North", but I purposely named the article "I Don't Want to be Canadian Anymore", thinking that my knee jerk liberal-minded countrymen would fly into a unified spasmatic fit of sputtering outrage, staging a protest outside my super fly downtown apartment after they had politely asked for a permit from the proper municipal authorities - instead I got silence.

Well, not exactly silence. Not the type of silence you get from your wife when she finds out you came home so drunk you wrote your name in piss on the new white shag carpeting. Not that of silence. Instead, I got agreement (which to me is a political type of pseudo-silence). I would casually bring up the article in conversation and instead getting of Jap-slapped, I got suggestions of other things I should have added to the list....and these people aren't exactly card carrying members of the vast right wing conspiracy. Most of them are liberal with some libertarian leanings who feel that our judiciary and busy body bureaucrats are overstepping their grounds. I was rather relieved there are more people out there who seem to realize that the jack-booted thought police are running amuck on freight train heading toward a personal opinion near you.

Sorry I have to cut this short, but we really have to get going. See you on the way back, and please be patient - the Obama piece is coming.

Have a good weekend. In case I didn't mention it...we'll be in Miami...suckers.

Cordially

Joe

I Don't Want to be Canadian Anymore

Before you begin pecking furiously away at your keyboards like a thousand monkeys on a thousand typewriters, please take a breath - and please refrain from being so clichéd and unoriginal as to send an email or post a comment filled with righteous indignation telling me that if I don't like it here, I should move somewhere else. I get a dozen of them a month, and your sputtering outrage will be more yawn-inducing than watching an E-Canada interview with a bottle of maple syrup.

There are many things I love about my country. I'm grateful that we've finally elected a solid conservative government (note the small "c") who realize the importance of lowering the tax burden on middle class Canadians and corporations, re-vitalizing our long neglected military, mending fences with our American neighbours, and affirming with a clear voice our unwavering commitment to the security of Israel from Islamic extremists like Hamas. The late Liberal government refused to label Hamas a terrorist group until they had blown up enough children to make even John Wayne Gacy squeamish - well, if the great state of Illinois hadn't given him the juice back in '94. The bravery of our soldiers in Afghanistan makes my heart swell with pride, and I believe that we have just about the friendliest folks on the planet. Yet, despite all of this, there are troubling trends occurring in my country. Trends that cause me to pause, finding myself contemplating the impossible: I don't want to be Canadian anymore.

1- The Canadian Human Rights Tribunal: Recently, Dean Steacy, the principal "anti-hate" investigator of the Human Rights Tribunal, said the following; "Freedom of speech is an American concept, so I don't give it any value." Our Government is eroding our right to express individual opinion - I don't want to be Canadian anymore.

2- The Alberta Human Rights Commission: The Commission recently ruled that Pastor Stephan Boissoin could no longer speak about certain of his views at the pulpit, privately, or even in a personal email. His crime? Writing a letter to the editor of his local paper that offended someone he didn't even know - I don't want to be Canadian anymore.

3 - Madam Justice Suzanne Tessier of the Quebec Superior Court: Justice Tessier allowed a 12 year old to sue her father after he decided to not to allow her to participate in a school trip as punishment for continuing to visit an internet dating site on which she was posting pictures of herself. Justice Tessier ruled that the father had no right to discipline his daughter and forced him to allow her to go on the trip in her written decision. Our government and our courts are now infringing on parental rights - I don't want to be Canadian anymore.

4 - Blame America First: In a recent CanWest News Services poll, over 40% of Canadians described Americans as "evil". In Quebec, the number clocked in at an astounding 64%. I have to admit this causes no small amount of cognitive dissonance considering most Canadians blather on about how tolerant we are. After 9/11, former Prime Minister Jean Chretien had the audacity to imply that the 3000 people who were butchered by the Taliban had it coming - I don't want to be Canadian anymore.

5 - The Persecution of Mark Steyn: McLean's magazine recently printed an exerpt from Mark Steyn's brilliant book "America Alone", in which he warns of the rising number of honor killings occurring in our own country and the United states by radical Islamic extremists. Enter stage left - The Canadian Human Rights Tribunal. Mark Steyn is now being dragged before the committee for offending the sensibilities of a few people who seem to think that killing your daughter for wearing make-up is just fine and dandy. This may lead Mr. Steyn's illuminating and humorous book being banned in Canada. We are now becoming a country that is stripping away freedom of the press and banning books - I don't want to be Canadian anymore.

I can only imagine the can of worms I have opened with this column. I can already see my inbox dripping with outrage and maple syrup. If we don't wake up to what's happening in our own back yard, you may no longer have the privilege of writing in to tell me what a royal ass muncher you think I am. But that's ok...If you're really upset, you can always send a complaint to the Canadian Human Rights Tribunal. They'll shut me down in no time.

In the end, it's of little consecquence. If Obama is elected President, the cradle of liberty will be little more than a carbon copy of our fascist government, and then I'll have no place left to move to anyway.

Anyway, while you're lowering your blood pressure, enjoy the latest from the beautiful Regina Spector, singing The Call.

Cordially

Joe