The Hugs and Cuddle Zone

Bill O'Reilly is a hard man to pin down. He's disarmingly calm and persuasive one moment, and screaming like a goat on fire the next. The targets of his occasional wrath certainly have it coming, like the day he laid it down most royally on Congressman Barney Frank. Frank had received over $40,000 in campaign contributions from Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, and fought against proper oversight of these committees, claiming they were stable entities free of financial duress, and dismissed rumours of the companies' excessive "non-traditional" loan practices. After the 2008 collapse of the housing market, O'Reilly lambasted Frank for his ties to Fannie and Freddie, and the Congressman's disingenuous remarks that he had been at the forefront of those warning against an unsustainable housing market. Frank was lying and O'Reilly was having none of it. It was an epic confrontation.

O'Reilly has also managed to have judges who have shown leniency toward pedophiles thrown off the bench, and has forced universities and colleges to dismiss radical left-wing professors. Lately, however, O'Reilly has been falling out of favour with many conservatives. Many feel that his famous "No Spin Zone" has gone soft, and that O'Reilly has dialed it down to attract high profile guests. He was surprisingly kid-gloved with then-Senators Clinton and Obama during the 2008 election campaign. Everyone wanted him to be fair, but he avoided asking any tough substantive questions. In 2009 he proclaimed it was too early to tell if the President's monstrous stimulus bill was a bad idea. Surely someone as politically engaged as O'Reilly knows that massive government spending projects filled with funding for all kinds of left-wing nuttery are bound to be dismal failures.

Again, some could argue that O'Reilly is toning down his caustic style to attract more high profile guests. Since Bill has become more huggable, everyone from John Stewart, Stephen Colbert, even the President himself has made appearances on his show. There was a time when it would have seemed inconceivable that any of these folks would have stepped anywhere near the set of 'Factor'; now they seem to be cutting line to get face time with papa bear.

In fairness, O'Reilly has always pointed out that he's not a lacky for any political party or philosophy. He seems to define himself as a no nonsense, right of center everyman who serves as a watch guard against the liberal mainstream media - but O'Reilly's cautionary finger-wagging over the tone of the recent CPAC convention was truly bizarre.

On last Thursday's 'Factor', O'Reilly accused the CPAC participants of "attacking the President" instead of "attacking his policies". I can't wrap my head around just what O'Reilly found so distasteful. The CPAC convention was a very well organized conservative pep rally with an impressive guest list. There were a few good natured jabs at the President's declining popularity, but no one was calling for an armed insurrection.

He later went bellyaching to Laura Ingram that the GOP should accept the President's offer to meet to discuss new ideas for health care. Has Bill gone off the reservation? How many times has the GOP been lured into Obama's den, leaving with promises of milk and honey, only to be bushwhacked by Senator Reid's steamroller? Killing Obamacare was one of the greatest legislative triumphs of the last decade. Nobody wants health care reform. Maybe Americans would like less onerous regulations and the right to buy insurance out of state, but no one wants to revisit this issue. As Ingram sagely noted, "Why would I want to re-litigate a court case I had already won?" That sounds logical enough to me, yet O'Reilly seems insistent on re-igniting a debate that came very close turning the greatest nation on earth into some sort of quasi-socialist basket case.

Nothing good can come from accepting the President's offer to continue the debate on health care. It reminds me of the scene in Gladiator when Maximus is persuaded by Lucilla and Senator Gracchus to break out of jail and join his waiting army, only to be thwarted by Commodus. Cicero ends up with a belly full of arrows and Proximo gets a back full of swords at the hands of the Praetorian guards.

The most glaring disservice Bill has done to the conservative movement with his inane criticism of the CPAC conference is that it has given ample ammunition to the mainstream media he purports to despise. Now buffoons like Anderson Cooper can say "Even Bill O'Reilly thinks the right has gone too far."

There are legitimate concerns about the grassroots movement that has sprung up across the country. The tea party movements - which I think are healthy and productive in energizing the conservative base - have been attracting the Ron Paul lunatic fringe of the libertarian wing. They make up a small but vocal faction, and serve as easy targets for the media, who are desperately trying to discredit the GOP's resurrection.

Bill O'Reilly is entertaining, and it's good fun watching him eviscerate pedophile apologists and radical leftists - but nobody likes pedophiles or left wing whack jobs. Maybe he's making way for the talented and energetic Glenn Beck to take over his time slot, or maybe he's seeing something we're all missing. Whatever the reason, if he continues to show those strange 5 minute montages of the celebrities he's interviewed over the years, there may be more than a few viewers who decide to rotate the channel away from the "No Spin Zone".

Cordially

Joe

The Lovely Bones

Peter Jackson's screen adaptation of Alice Sebold's supernatural suspense novel "The Lovely Bones" ends with a moral plot twist of sorts. Don't be too hard on yourself if you missed it. After 2 hours of watching Jackson stumble about in this ethereal, clunky mess of a movie, his protagonist's last minute afterlife epiphany (which we'll come back to) becomes irrelevant and silly. Having not read Ms Sebold's novel before viewing the film, it's difficult to discern whether or not Jackson's problem was the source material. Seeing that he acquired the movie rights shortly after reading it coupled with Jackson's obsession with staying true to the author's vision makes me assume that his film is an accurate representation of the book.

The problem with The Lovely Bones is that like so many other films, it is trying to do too many things at once, and is unsuccessful at doing any one of them particularly well. Jackson tried to use elements of European surrealism and new age spirituality as the backdrop for an American supernatural crime thriller. These elements certainly could have worked, but Jackson seemed incapable of tying them together, or even making any of them all that interesting.

As other critics have pointed out, the film starts out promisingly, as the film's protagonist, Susie Salmon, played by the exceptional young actress Saoirse Ronan, narrates from beyond the grave the days leading up to her abduction and murder - and it proves to be very effective. Susie is both wise and witty, and the movie captures the feeling and imagery of the early '70's - the set design, wardrobe, album covers, and other knick knacks are sheer perfection, and the ambiance is further accentuated by Susie's monologue;

"It was 1973, a time when people believed things like that didn't happen."

By "things like that", Susie is referring to her abduction (technically she's lured) and brutal murder by serial killer George Harvey, played with eerie perfection by the immensely talented Stanley Tucci. By this point we instinctively know that Susie will try to contact her grieving father, Jack Salmon (Mark Wahlberg), to comfort him and to exact justice for her and her family. It's far from an original scenario, but Jackson has us captivated. Unfortunately, the momentum he has built comes to an almost grinding halt and disintegrates into a complete and dismal failure.

The first hint of trouble (with the movie) occurs right before Susie's murder, when she and her budding love interest Ray Singh (played by the grossly untalented Reece Ritchie) have an intense emotional encounter after leaving a movie review club. Their brief flirtatious moment at Susie's locker is painfully hokey and unbelievable. It's meant to evoke a strong emotional response from us, as Susie previously informs us that she will never live to experience her first kiss. Earlier in the movie, we are shown that Ray and Susie have but a passing acquaintanceship with a mutual crush (at best). Now, suddenly, they are speaking to each other like Mary and Percy Bysshe Shelley.

After the murder, several essential plot devices are used rather sparsely, as Jackson seems more interested in showing off the CGI-created-Microsoft-screen-saver-heaven (or limbo) that he has created for Susie than in character and story development. Jack's grief and obsession to find Susie's killer leads to the disintegration of his family, but this is assumed and never really explored. When Jack's wife leaves the family home, we never have any clear picture of the lengths to which Jack's obsession consume him. We know that he starts his own investigation of his neighbours' credit reports and pesters the detective assigned to his daughter's murder, but we're never left with the sense that Jack has gone over the fence.

No one seems interested in delving into how combustible the family unit has become, but things surely must be bad, because Susie's wise cracking, chain smoking, alcoholic Grandma Lynn (wonderfully played by Susan Sarandon) is called in to save the day and restore order. Well, if by order you mean a bizarre 2 minute montage of Sarandon doing household chores to the beat of "Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress". Aside from a brief conversation with Susie's brother, Grandma Lynn's only purpose - outside of the snappy montage - is to stand with a look a of worldly wisdom at various pivotal moments (speaking of bizarre montages, there a doozy of one in Susie's CGI heaven where she and her spirit guide Holly do a psychedelic dance in a circle as their clothes change to show the passing of time - grooovy).

Again, one of the fundamental flaws of the film is the failure to use key plot elements to effectively relay the story. Early on in the film, Susie is chastised for using up all 12 rolls of film her parents had given as a gift with a camera for her birthday. Jack agrees with his wife's reluctant approval to allow her to develop one roll of film per month. After her death, Jack decides to keep his promise and begins to develop the film rolls at monthly intervals. Good story telling would have our father hero being shown bits of a puzzle unravelling as each roll of film is developed. Instead we get a couple of scenes showing Jack making an important connection, but only with the other-worldly aid of his non-corporeal daughter. It would have been exciting to see Jack rushing to the photo shop, tearing open envelopes, trying to piece together the clues his daughter had unwittingly left behind for her father to find.

Wahlberg, like Tucci, is given little to work with and must make do with the scant, heavy-handed dialogue. There is so little character development that when Jack finally confronts his daughter's killer, there is no real sense of dramatic tension. Everything leading up to the scene is so poorly written that this pivotal moment is as flat as warm soda - and it's a shame. Tucci is positively creepy, and Walhberg, despite some less than glowing reviews, is excellent as an easy-going, all American blue collar dad. In fact, most all of the central cast were phenomenal, but anyone in a supporting role were so abysmal it seemed like they were picked from a supermarket and told to wing it.

Then there's Susie's peculiar limbo, where she walks through dreamy Salvador Dali-like landscapes inundated with imagery that never manages to transition smoothly into the real world inhabited by her killer. It reminds me of an early Simpon's episode when the producers of the show place Homer in a CGI world for close to a minute, and he says and does nothing beyond quip about how expensive everything looks. Jackson's 'Bones' breaks no more new ground artistically than Gothika did over seven years ago.

SPOILER ALERT!!

But now we come to the real dilemma of the film - what we in the biz call the movie's "central fallacy". As Susie wanders through her own fantasy world and George Harvey's real world begins to unravel, she is finally shown the location of all of Harvey's victims and the destruction he has left in their wake. As Harvey throws the rusted safe containing Susie's body into a pit that's soon to be filled in - forever obscuring her final remains - we think that the killer is about to get his comeuppance, that Susie will finally get justice for herself, and bring peace to the families of the other victims by using her supernatural gifts to reveal the locations of their bodies.

Not really.

This is where an already weird movie takes an even weirder turn into the realm of bizarre new age spirituality. As Ray and Susie's quasi-psychic friend Ruth look on from an abandoned building while the lecherous Harvey disposes of Susie's remains (oddly doing nothing to stop it or alert authorities), Susie possesses Ruth's body to finally steal that last kiss she never got from Ray. Oddly, after Susie has her last moment of earthly bliss, leaving Ruth's body, neither teenager feels it necessary to...oh, I don't know, ALERT AUTHORITIES.

Susie's family is finally reconciled once her killer has been exposed (but is on the run), and she is finally persuaded by her irritating spiritual guide Holly to leave this mystical nether world and move on to heaven. Instead of staying to use her ability to reach into the earthly world to bring closure to all, Holly persuades her that she must move on so that she may be happy in heaven and her family happy on earth - but that doesn't make any sense at all. There is no ultimatum given to Susie forcing her to choose between staying behind to right the wrongs in the world she departed, or leave so that her soul may enjoy peace in heaven. It seems she could have done all of these things before moving on, and, if she can't, we are offered no explanation as to why. The movie seems to have the temerity to suggest that 14 year old Susie and the the people that love her are happier and more enriched because of her murder.

There is justice of a sort given to Susie's killer. Later that winter he is struck by a falling icicle, causing him to slip down a cliff to his death, taking with him the secrets of where so many of his victims are buried (the icicle actually melts at it's base causing it to fall, as Jackson seems obsessed with water imagery throughout the movie). It is an unsatisfactory sort of justice, and perhaps would have been more palatable had the movie tried to make the point that the world is sometimes an unfair place where evil men go unpunished and good people are left to suffer. The movie's moral message is so convoluted it prompted film critic Roger Ebert to declare;

"The Lovely Bones is a deplorable film with this message: If you're a 14-year-old girl who has been brutally raped and murdered by a serial killer, you have a lot to look forward to. You can get together in heaven with the other teenage victims of the same killer, and gaze down in benevolence upon your family members as they mourn you and realize what a wonderful person you were."

I couldn't have said it better myself. This movie is a muddled mess with a bizarre moral smugness that defies reason. Don't bother with this one.

Cordially

Joe

Diagnosis: Enablement - Blogging By Numbers

Looks like stuff and things and other manifestations of the sort have been occurring around the world, which means you - my loyal readers, groupies, and sycophants - are expecting another blog piece. I guess it works out, because I have a lot of things to say about the aforementioned events, but because I lack motivation I want to cover several topics at once, and there's only one format that can facilitate that end. It's blogging by numbers time!!!

1- The only thing worse than the horrific pictures from Haiti is the self-righteous finger pointing by the likes of The New York Times and my local "paper", L'Acadie Nouvelle. The Nouvelle, a second rate French Acadian Newspaper - apparently staffed by writers who failed finger painting in kindergarten - are stuffing their editorial pages with daily columns about how "we failed Haiti, hence, Haiti failed." They're right about the symptoms, but wrong about the diagnosis (sorry, I've been watching too much House). Liberals guided by Saint Clooney seem to be under the illusion that Haiti is the country the world forgot.

Haiti is not the country the world forgot, it's the country the world has been enabling. One pompous editor at L'Acadie Nouvelle called for the formation of a bizarre international coalition of countries that would continue to keep Haiti running with a steady stream of hand-outs. Too bad Smarty McFrench isn't big on researching before spewing forth a litany of self-righteous nonsense. He might have discovered that prior to the day the earthquake devastated the country, there were over 10,000 charitable and foreign aid organizations operating in Haiti. According to the Wall Street Journal, Haiti receives ten times more foreign aid than foreign investment. Jonah Goldberg pointed out that;

"It’s true that Haiti has few natural resources, but neither does Japan or Switzerland. What those countries do have are what Kling and Schulz call valuable “intangible assets” — the skills, rules, laws, education, knowledge, customs, expectations, etc. that drive a prosperous society to generate prosperity. That is where the real wealth of nations is to be found — not in factories, oil deposits, and gold mines, but in our heads and in the habits of our hearts. Indeed, a recent World Bank study found that 82 percent of America’s wealth could be found in our intangible assets."

Feeding the mechanisms that fuel Haiti's poverty may make us feel good about ourselves, but it's the real reason behind the mythical "cycle of poverty" liberals seem to be so dedicated to breaking.

2- Aside from Maxim magazine covers, what is the appeal of the hot tub? Who wants to marinate in a petri dish of bacteria? Aren't the 1970's over?

3- What the GOP needed after the november Gubernatorial wins was momentum. The wins in New Jersey and Virginia were a clear repudiation of Obamanomics and health care reform, but the MSM either outright ignored the results or quickly brushed them away as irrational tea-party induced reactionism. The dismissive attitude of the media was to be expected, but november 2010 was a long way off, and Harry Reid had a vice-like grip on his unruly Senators. Many doubts remained - could a grass roots conservative resurgence combined with a populace movement be enough to return the GOP esse quam videri? How long could the Tea Party movement sustain itself? Such questions seemed irrelevant to arrogant Dems, as the Pelosi/Reid health care monster ploughed it's way through every obstacle that crossed it's path, by hook or by crook.

Our own arsenal was incredibly powerful, but our powder was wet. The Democratic defections in the House, the Dodd/Reid bow -outs, even Barbara Boxer's declining Rasmussen numbers were of little use with november so far off. Reid's soldiers were standing at attention, and the ghost of Woodrow Wilson floated in the wings (have I milked the moment enough?) - but then an unexpected occurance changed the balance.

Not just any kind of unexpected either. It's James K Polk circa 1844 unexpected. It's Swedish female volleyball team "our bus broke down, could we use your shower?" unexpected. The most liberal of senate seats held by the most liberal of liberals, Ted Kennedy, was taken by a guy that not even I had heard of. Against all odds, Republican Scott Brown won what has been described as an "epic" and "miraculous" victory in Massachusetts. Suddenly the equation has changed. Health care is off the table, Cap and Trade is in jeopardy, Democrats are running for cover, and the President is giving incoherent and bizarre speeches that seem like they were ripped out of a Saturday Night Live skit. But will the GOP get the message?

It would be easy to become complacent with this win, but after the bumbling punditry and Monday morning quarter-backing has stopped, the media will be doing a full court press to help stem the bleeding in November. There is no libellous accusation they will not hurl, no minor scandal they will not exploit, no misfortune they will not try to lay on the doorstep of the GOP. The GOP is like a cat in room full of rocking chairs - When they should be strutting proudly with their tail in the air, they get spooked by the media, and start pandering to the imaginary boogeyman called the "moderate voter". Now is not the time to stop the Tea Parties or become apathetic. Conservatives must remind the GOP every day that they can easily lose what the voters are willing to give them in November.

4 - I don't care what this diet I'm on says, skim milk is not - and never will be - a "snack".

5 - I hear I have new young reader from the deep unforgiving liberal vortex of British Columbia, the land of irritating lefties who sip latte's from coffee shops with names like the "The Ethical Bean" and stick those annoying Darwin Fish on the bumpers of their Priora. I hear she is even so bold as to show this blog to her teachers! Hats off to you, Amanda! One day, a political science teacher will tell your class that socialism works in theory. Be ready to raise your hand and challenge that remark. You are a true Hypester.

6 - Time to groove out children.

Cordially

Joe

Redux - Oh Canada? - From the Archives

While preparing for work this week, I tuned into a popular local talk show. The topic of discussion was whether playing the Canadian national anthem before hockey games served any useful purpose. Several listeners phoned in showing an almost even split between those who thought this was a meaningless tradition, (given that most players on Canadian hockey teams are drafted from other countries), and others who - admirably, if not somewhat clumsily - spoke of the need to preserve tradition in a country that seems hell bent on dismantling what little traditions we have left.

The host, through a clever slight of hand framed the question in a manner that pigeonholed the parameters of the discussion. The topic, formulated by the host, was actually whether or not the national anthem "inspired the players". Yet no matter how slippery the question was, the fact that the program was even having such inane discussion is symptomatic of a much larger problem. The lack of cultural identity.

Ask any bloke or blokette on the street what it means to be Canadian and they will frequently spew forth a litany of ready-to-order items off a check list, most of them declarations about how they are not like Americans. The common version of our watered down notions of national pride boils down to silly tub thumping about how we don't let sick people die because they're poor, how we're all walking saints because we don't carry guns and of course, the ever annoying lament about how we don't start "useless wars". You know you're in deep trouble when you define your national identity in the negative. Who you are, should not be explained in terms of who you are not. If someone were to ask me to define myself as a person and I responded; "Well, I'm not a pedophile, and I certainly don't torture animals", it may make you feel safe about letting me spend the weekend with Spuds and little Johnny, but it speaks very little to what makes me tick - and therein lies in the rub.

In the 1960's we were beginning to mold into our collective psyche what it meant to be Canadian: Honour in combat, the majestic railway that connected this country from the Atlantic to the Pacific, our natural resources and our pioneering ancestors - but there was a counter movement eager to crush this burgeoning sense of national pride. They progressives declared that patriotism was a dirty word and insisted we were all hand-holding members of the kumbaya cult of pan-ethnicity. Their leader? The white-on-white wearing liberal/Liberal hipster Pierre Elliot Trudeau. If America was a melting pot where people of diverse backgrounds and heritage stood proudly under the banner of a united culture that welcomed inclusion, Canada was to become a bizarre soup sitting in an another type of pot, where the burner was never turned on and it's colourful ingredients were left to sit in stagnant cold water.

Multiculturalism - the abra-cadabra, all encompassing, non-threatening name of one the most misguided experiments in social engineering ever hatched. Multiculturalism frowned at any patriotism of the whole and encouraged a strange ethnocentric loyalty to your nation of origin. The result almost a quarter of a century later are ethnic ghettos where poverty runs rampant in large cities and entire swaths of the population that do not posses adequate proficiency in English to compete in the job market.

The true Orwellian nightmare of multiculturalism in all its glory is a nefarious little group of jackbooted bureaucrats called the Canadian Human Rights Commission. Anyone who doesn't like a magazine article or feels excluded from some facet of society can drag magazine editors, writers, artists, priests and even night club owners in front of the commission. Last year, Canadian writer Mark Steyn was ordered to appear before the commission after a complaint was launched by the Canadian Islamic Council over an article he wrote in Mclean's magazine that warned of the ever growing threat of radicalization within the Islamic community. They didn't like it, so in the spirit of free speech for all they hauled Mr. Steyn before the tribunal which almost led to his brilliant cautionary tome "America Alone", being banned in Canada.

Woodrow Wilson, the first American President to try - but ultimately fail - to turn America into a Canadian-style welfare state with a pimped-out European fascist whip was a bit more heavy handed. He routinely shut down newspapers and even had his own personal goon squad at his beck and call to intimidate those who spoke out against the government. Now Canadian citizens are being forced to endure the same type of bullying, albeit under the guise of a "Human Rights Commission".

It's all a bit disheartening that we've reached a point where sober minded people debate whether or not we should still sing the national anthem at sporting events. Perhaps soon, such quaint traditions will be but a memory if the jackbooted intellectual thought police at the Canadian Rights Tribunal have their way.

Cordially

Joe

TSH 2009 Year In Review - The New Year's Blog!

Just before I started pecking away at my New Year's blog, I realized that we are stepping into a new decade, and perhaps a decade in review blog would be more appropriate than a year in review piece. It then struck me that writing that sort of thing would be rather long and tedious, and I am far too lazy and lacking the proper motivation for that sort of undertaking. It takes me forever to write about what happened last week, let alone the last 10 years. I could have lied to you and wormed my way out of the whole mess with some quasi-scholarly wonking about how when our AD/BC system was set up, the concept of "0" wasn't well recognized in Europe, so they started with the famous "year one" - but that tripe is not set in stone, as 1980 to 1989 was considered a decade, and most scholars view the first decade of a new century as running from 01 to 10.

Anyway, I'm pretty much avoiding a decade in review article on principle, as I generally find them bizarre and pointless, and again, that whole unmotivated/lazy thing comes into play. Now, I realize my New Year's blog is one of the most anticipated articles I write every year, and after the overwhelming response to my "Enemy at the Gates" piece, I thought I might get out of writing it altogether, but my editor, the lovely Mrs Leger, starting shaking a bag off M&M's, saying "You can do it Joe, you can do it!" So, enticed by the prospect of M&M's, I got right to it, only to realize that she didn't have any M&M's at all - she was just putting her hand over her mouth and going "chika chika chika" and I was too dumb to look - friggin' infidel. Anyway, let's get on with it.

Worst Decision of the Year - The election of President Barack Obama

How are you liking your hope and change? Americans had a choice between a decorated War Hero with 30 years of experience in both the House and the Senate or a slickster from Chicago who barely served two years in the senate and whose closest friends and advisers range from convicted criminals to a guy who bombed a Police Department, The Pentagon, and The United States Capitol building. Sounds like a no-brainer, but somehow Americans didn't vote for the seasoned politician with a reputation for reaching across the aisle and compromise. They threw away their vote for some guy who had nothing to say but "Yes We Can" and "We are the ones we've been waiting for". What the hell does that even mean? Now Americans are getting hundreds of billions of dollars in new spending and taxes, a massive and unworkable health care bill no one asked for or likes, and an attempted terrorist attack that almost killed 260 Americans. How do you like that change?

(yeah yeah, he was elected in November of 2008, but it can take months before the symptoms of herpes show up too...not that I would know anything about that. )

Best Article of the Year - Fossil Future by Jonah Goldberg

The cover story of the July 6th issue of National Review by Jonah Goldberg, "The Beauty of Drilling from an Oil Platform - Fossil Future", was a fascinating and humorous first-hand account of Goldberg's time aboard a drilling platform that dispelled many myths about this plentiful and largely untapped resource.

Worst Movie of the Year - Avatar.

Haven't even seen it and have no intention of doing so. I don't care how pretty it's supposed to look. I'm not going to waste three hours of my life watching some condescending enviro-lecture by James Cameron. Yeah I get it James - humans are mean, nasty and evil and will no doubt one day be massacring emaciated smurfs on far away planets. Maybe someday I'll see it after falling into a quasi-vegetative state during a spelunking accident and someone will slip it into the DVD player at the special care home I'll soon be living in.

Most Disappointing Movie of the Year (with a few caveats) - Inglorious Basterds

2009 was a terrible year for movies, but a great year for performances within those terrible movies. The best example is Inglorious Basterds, another over-rated, over-hyped piece of nonsense from the ever declining talents of Quentin Tarantino. However, a virtually unknown Austrian named Christoph Waltz as "The Jew Hunter" Standartenführer Hans Landa gave us one of the most memorable acting performances in recent memory. The opening sequence of the film, as well as the bar scene with British actor Michael Fassbender as Lt. Archie Hicox, are cinematic perfection in an otherwise campy and unremarkable film. There were, however, some films of note that are worth renting on Beta cassette, Stingray, or whatever the kids are calling those movie playing thingies these days.

Best Movies of the Year

1 - The Hurt Locker - An unrelenting, pulse pounding action movie about a bomb disposal unit in serving in Iraq.

2 - Sunshine Cleaning - From the makers of Little Miss Sunshine comes another darkly comic and touching film, quirky and human with a wonderful script by Megan Holley.

3 - Is Anybody There? - Michael Caine and the talented young child actor Bill Milner explore questions of death and redemption. The film never quite seems to be able to smoothly gel the competing plot lines, but it's worth seeing.

4 - Dead Snow - What happens when a group of German medical students pick the wrong cabin for a winter weekend vacation? A delightfully fun spoof of conventional horror films that involves a gruesome attack at the hands of an army of Nazi zombies. Good fun, but not for the squeamish.

5 - A Christmas Carol - In a year filled with duds, the one movie I avoided seeing until the bitter end turned out to be the best movie of the year. Robert Zemeckis and Alex Silvestri have created a breathtaking and faithful adaptation of Dickens' timeless novel. This movie was by far the most surprising treat of the year.

6 - Up In The Air - Jason Reitman hits a home run with his 3rd directorial outing. Both comic and bleak, George Clooney gives perhaps his best performance to date alongside the formidable Anna Kendrick.

Political Play of the Year - Harry Reid

Now, before you drag me out into the streets with a screaming mob in an auto de fé revival, hear me out. The political play of the year goes to Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid. Yes, he's a weasel, and I suspect that repeated incantations of his name could probably summon unspeakable creatures from the bowels of hell itself - but what he managed to do was remarkable. The Democrats' health care bill is an obscene disaster that promises nothing but billions of dollars in new spending, sky-rocketing tax hikes on the middle class, and reduced services to seniors. Still, as the bill came close to being booted into oblivion, he fought tooth and nail to bring 60 of the most disorganized and unruly Democratic Senators together to pass this thing. Did he skirt the bounds of ethics to win some of those votes? I have no doubt he did, but his dogged determination and crusading won the day in the end. Republicans could learn something from that kind of unrelenting persistence.

Album of the Year - Regina Spektor's "Eet"

Eet is more tame and restrained than Spektor's previous two outings, but it remains a powerful album that was a welcome treat for her ever-growing fan base.

What would Happen if you Drank a Bottle of Drain-o?

I suspect you would die a painful death as your insides singed like goats on fire.

Best Decision of the Year - Marrying my editor

As a general rule, this sort of thing should be avoided the way children should avoid sticking forks in power sockets, but marrying the lovely Miss Claire - now the lovely Mrs. Claire - has made me the happiest blogger (and man) in the world. I love her dearly, and my life is all the richer for having her in it.

A Final Thank You

Thank you to all my readers, from all parts of the political spectrum, for making The Straight Hype the success it is today. Thanks most of all to my wife and editor Claire, and my brother and glue sniffing webmaster Paul. I could not do any of it without your support, and I thank each and every one of you for your loyalty. God bless you.

Happy New Year!

Cordially

Joe

(I know I missed lots of stuff...feel free to add your own thoughts - we do have a comments section.)

Enemy At The Gates

On Feb 10, 1970, three terrorists attacked a bus at the Munich Airport armed with guns and grenades. One passenger was killed and 11 were injured. The Action Organization for the Liberation of Palestine and the Popular Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine claimed responsibility for the attack. If one is so inclined, a cursory search of the State Department's website lists a seemingly endless array of terrorist attacks committed by radical Jihadists going back close to 40 years.

In February of 1993, radical Islam reared it's ugly head on American soil with the first bombing of the World Trade Center, leaving 6 dead and over 1000 injured. The Federal Government lists over 25 separate and active Islamic terrorist organizations operating around the world, yet despite the best efforts of law enforcement and vigilant prosecutions, bombings, kidnappings and high-jackings persist. Prior to Sept 11th 2001, many warned that a sort of global tunnel vision had emerged, which viewed terrorism, wherever it occurred, as just another manifestation of crime, to be dealt with by the auspices of the civil justice system as various countries saw fit.

The temptation to view terrorism as a matter of domestic law enforcement is a direct result of the quick and easy prosecutions that are obtained through civilian trials. The proponents of this worldview are fond of using past convictions as a shining example of how the criminal justice system provides swift and exacting results. It is indeed tempting, but also extremely misleading. If we are to measure success in terms of incarceration, then many a Federal prosecutor can rightly claim that terrorism is best left to civilian jurisprudence.

The most glaring examples are the chest puffing by Attorney General Eric Holder over the current trials of the 9/11 conspirators in New York, and the Clinton administration's prosecution of the 1993 World Trade Center bombers. But what is the goal of national security? As Andrew McCarthy asked on NRO's The Corner, "...does litigation success equals national security success"? If Friday's foiled attempt by Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab to destroy Northwest Airlines Flight 253 on it's descent into Detroit is any indication , it's clear a return to the previous strategy is not working.

Following calls for her resignation after boasting that the administration's Clinton style anti-terrorism strategy prevented the attempted bombing, HHS Secretary Janet Napolitano finally conceded that the country's security structure had "failed completely". Even Obama press secretary Robert Gibbs has resurrected the administration's once forbidden phrase "war on terror". In fact, the administration not only bungled the lead-up, they are horribly bungling the aftermath with mixed signals, conflicting statements, and ever-morphing euphemisms.

For close to eight years, under the vigilant policies of the Bush administration, America remained safe. We were at war, and the foot soldiers hell bent on destroying us were treated as enemy combatants. But as the years passed, images of the two majestic towers collapsing to the ground in a plume of fire and smoke became a distant memory, and the public grew apathetic. Liberals were hell bent on allowing captured terrorists to be treated as common criminals at the dock, with the full rights and privileges of the American justice system, and a young Senator from Illinois with eyes on the Oval Office was willing to oblige. This return to a failed 40 year old policy led to a day that almost cost the lives of close to 260 Americans. President Obama believes that because Abdulmutallab's improvised exploding underpants malfunctioned, this is a no harm no foul situation. Nothing could be further from the truth. The administration seems to be in a national defense free-fall, and - as McCarthy laments - sorely missing the point:

"Here, no thanks to the government, the plane was not destroyed, and we won't get to the bottom of the larger conspiracy (enabling the likes of Napolitano to say there's no indication of a larger plot — much less one launched by an international jihadist enterprise) because the guy got to lawyer up rather than be treated like a combatant and subjected to lengthy interrogation. But the terrorist will be convicted at trial (this "case" tees up like a slam-dunk), so the administration will put it in the books as a success . It is a dangerously absurd viewpoint, but it was clear during the campaign that it was Obama's viewpoint. The American people — only seven years after 9/11 — elected him anyway. As we learn more painfully everyday, elections matter."

Umar bragged to law enforcement officials shortly after his capture that more attacks were planned and on the way, but he has now, as McCarthy points out, "lawyered up", and Homeland Security is desperately trying to resurrect the policies of the Bush administration that had managed to keep Americans safe for the better part of a decade. But have we really gotten the message, and for that matter, what is the message? I think Daniel Pipes put it best when he sagely warned;

"Diplomacy in general does not resolve conflicts, ... Wars end not due to peace processes, but due to one side giving up. Ultimately, there is no compromise. Westerners will either retain their civilization, including the right to insult and blaspheme, or not.”

Cordially

Joe

Merry Christmas - Blogging by Numbers Edition

Happy non-denominational, pan-ethnic, globally inclusive late December!!!! But seriously folks, Merry Christmas to all, and that means a special Christmas blogging by numbers!!!

1- It's refreshing that, this year, there seems to be less of the usual sand-poundingly stupid attacks on our treasured Christmas symbols. For the first time in years, I've been seeing all the cherished cartoons I loved as a child showed nightly on TV. In the various cities to which I travel, there are Nativity scenes proudly displayed in front of City Halls and other civic buildings. There are fewer aggravating stories about school boards banning red and green construction paper and Salvation Army Santas being kicked off curbs. When we ban the Christmas symbols of our Christian heritage because a certain group feels offended, we like to think we are being respectful of others' beliefs - but we are not. We are only catering to their intolerance.

2 - It looks like fascist Santa...um, I mean President Obama gave out some early festivus gifts to those pesky democrats who wouldn't play the Pelosi/Reid health care shell game. The Dems won yet another round in the health care blowout after Senator Ben Nelson finally sold his vote for full and permanent federal aid for expanded Medicaid goodies for his state. Sen. Mary Landrieu got $400 million in federal aid under her Christmas tree, and billions more ended up in the stockings of Senators from Mass., Florida, New York and Vermont. Backroom Chicago politics imported to the capital for all, just in time for Christmas.

What do the American taxpayers get? Well, the CBO says you'll be getting $800 billion dollars in new federal spending over the next decade, cuts in Medicare Advantage plans that would force about 8.5 million seniors out of the coverage they would prefer, and across-the-board payment rate cuts for hospitals, nursing homes, and home health agencies. Yay! What a deal. Keep up those tea parties, my dear friends - your representatives won't be losing their generous health benefits. Don't let them take this any further.

3 - My father in law recently underwent some unpleasant knee surgery. Thankfully, all went well, but he appears to be favouring a plastic broom handle over his rather functional crutches to get around. He kind of looks like a dollar store Gandalf, but he's rather attached to this dangerous home crafted walking aid, and I have the feeling this is going to end quite badly, making his certain catastrophic fall an overnight Youtube sensation. He's starting to put some weight on the knee, now I just hope he can part with the broomstick.

4 - Give a 40 ouncer to a homeless guy on Christmas day. Yeah, it's not the help he needs, but, come on.

5 - Claire and I are looking into adding to the family in a year. She got a pamphlet about fertility, and it says guys should keep their jewels away from tight clothing and heat, so I guess my unitard/hot tub nights are over.

6 - Have a wonderful Christmas. Be kind to everyone, remember to keep Christmas well, and read this blog.

Merry Christmas

Joe

The Radical Left and The Creepy Cult of Green

I watched Sling Blade for the second time in almost a decade, and Billy Bob Thornton's portrayal of Karl Childers reminded me a little of what Joe Biden might sound like if someone hit him over the head with a baseball bat, shaved him bald, and yanked his pants up to his nipples;

"They got me a job with the President...some people calls him a socialist, I calls him the President. Hmmm. He brought two fellars up there from some college that weren't getting along proper..hmmmm. We all drank some beers. Bible says a man shouldn't take to drinking and I figure the good lord knew what he was talking about after we was about done, ah hmmmm. Sometimes the President...some people calls him Obama I calls him the President...he says he'll give me some french fried pataters if I got sense enough not to talk so much. I reckon that's a pretty good arrangement, um hmmmm"

I bring up Sling Blade because, in the movie, Billy Bob Thornton's antagonist, Doyle, is a volatile sociopath whose laid back good naturedness is nothing more than transparent window dressing to hide his otherwise dark and unpredictable nature. Granted, this is a weak segway, but I thought the Biden bit was pretty damn funny.

I recently had a (thankfully) brief rekindling of a friendship with a radical socialist friend of mine, whom I hadn't spoken to in almost a decade. It was a bizarre but telling window into the strange Kabuki theatre of the extreme left and how their perceptions of the conservative movement - and the world for that matter - seem limited to parroting talking points spit out by the callow hacks at the Huffington Post. The HuffPo has always struck me as a kind of cyber saloon where discredited journalists and a rogue's gallery of other has-beens gather together to form tightly packed manure balls to stuff into their Trebuchet of lunacy.

Radicals who get all dressed up trying to look respectable usually use the same MO. I've seen it so many times I can spot it quicker than Columbo on his best day: They whisper about how they're secretly disappointed with the hostile tone of their compatriots on the left, and (not so) subtly remind you that they've been to Europe so they can use terms like "social Swedish-style democracies" and mention, without the slightest trace of irony, "how different the Euro-right is". Then, faster than you can say "Dorothy Hewett on a corndog", they spin around like Linda Blair's head in the exorcist and begin moaning about being stuck in a world of uneducated morons who only listen to Glen Beck and think women shouldn't use "big words". Usually the good people they claim to be so savagely victimized by are tolerant and educated folks whose only crimes are working in the oil industry and not living in a constant state of fear about an imaginary warming trend that will wipe all of mankind off the face of the earth.

Of course, there is the usual stock footage: Frothing at the mouth and throwing cyber feces at Sarah Palin for the unforgivable crime of attending a cancer benefit; Recycling discredited reports by unethical scientists to give each other high five reassurances about how climate change is an undisputed fact; and of course, living in a state of perpetual victimhood.

The thing that really creeps me out is the fervent, almost evangelical, pulpit pounding zeal when they discuss environmental issues. They kind of get, well, all Jehovah's Witness-y on you. I half expect them to whip out some green version of "The Watch Tower" with David Suzuki on the cover.

As the green intelligentsia camp out in Copenhagen - taking advantage of comped CO2 spewing limos and sampling the after hours local delicacies - they're finding themselves up against a tide of scientific elites who have finally found their voice after years of threats and intimidation spearheaded by the tribal mentality of environmentalists. They are also having to answer to an increasingly skeptical public wondering if their "green lifestyles" have been nothing but hollow gestures to prop up a cargo cult that has fueled a multi-billion dollar industry (we'll touch on that later in my Climategate piece I'll have up in a few weeks).

What disturbs me the most about some foot soldiers of the green movement is their glazed-eyed, batten-down-the-hatches, straight-jacket-with-the-sedatives craziness they seem to possess. Environmentalism, to some, is a sort of pre-packaged quasi-socialist religion. Fundamentalist Christians are often ridiculed by the left for believing that if man doesn't change his ways, the end is nigh. They share a lot more with these folks then they would care to admit. The apostles of the environment believe that if man doesn't change his ways it will trigger a global Armageddon juggernaut that will bring floods, famine, and a Mad Max society where we will be using our neighbors' skulls for soup bowls. The biblical end of days doesn't differ all that much from the more secular death and destruction scenario brought to us by the tree huggers (anyone see 2012 or The Day After Tomorrow)?

Oh, but back to the creepy Wilsonian aspect of all of this. Last week in Copenhagen, journalist and documentary filmmaker Phelim McAleer was stopped in the middle of a question to Stanford Professor Stephen Schneider by armed UN guards at the request of Schneider's assistant. McAleer, a global warming skeptic, was ordered to stop filming, manhandled, and threatened, even though he had full press credentials. When I asked my socialist friend whether she was disturbed by this, she responded;

"They were inconvenient and irrelevant questions".

It seems the pacifist anti-gun crowd doesn't mind silencing dissent with the butt of a rifle when journalists ask "inconvenient" questions. Armed response to "protect" the environment is OK, but roving wire taps to prevent terrorist attacks is unacceptable.

I wish UNAMIR would have felt as passionate about genocide as the UN as a whole feels about "pointless questions" from journalists. Maybe some of the 800,000 people slaughtered in Rwanda would still be alive today.

Today in Copenhagen, hundreds of bored young Europeans and rich white American progressives are shouting for the global community to amp up it's commitment to reduce greenhouse gases. Several of the protesters are waiving large flags of the former Soviet Union, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the evil ideology that is Communism has killed over 100 million people. I'm sure many who escaped the horrors of Stalin's Gulags could tell these folks quite a bit about waterboarding.

I doubt any of them would listen. They're too busy being victims of invisible bogeymen, shadow governments, and the military industrial complex. If you have a radical liberal on your Christmas list, maybe you should buy them a crowbar. It might help them pry the nails out of their hands and feet so they can come off of their crosses....Oh wait! Crosses are symbols of patriarchal Christian oppression. Scratch that. Buy them a Snuggie instead.

Cordially

Joe

Giggity! Blogging by Numbers!

Well, it's been a few days, and I suppose you good folks are expecting a blog or something of the sort. I thought maybe I could distract you with this Youtube video of a giant bouncing ball, but my paint sniffing webmaster assures me that cats don't account for any fraction of the various demographic groups that read my blog. Some of my leftist/Marxist demographic may still be watching the video and have long since forgotten they were reading this, so we'll continue on without them. Let the blogging by numbers begin.

1- Family Guy creator Seth MacFarlane seems to be making good on his promise to back off the left wing preachyness that was beginning to make the show boring. I've always loved that MacFarlane holds nothing sacred, and that there is no line he will not cross. The problems started when the writers of the show made the fatal mistake of forgetting that a satirist must never think himself above that which he is satirizing. To his credit, he's gone a step further and made the show's Prius driving liberal character, Brian, the butt of the majority of this season's most cutting jokes. Hats off to the folks at Family Guy for creating this scene, which has quickly become one the show's most memorable moments - and thank you.

2 -Who would win in a fight? A Navy SEAL, a real seal, or the singer Seal?

3 -Lots of you are wondering if I'm going to tackle climategate. The myth of global warming has fueled a multi-billion dollar industry for close to twenty years, and while we addressed it quite regularly on the old website, it's not something I've written much about over the last few years. The recent release of emails that were discovered after hackers broke into the server at the CRU have finally proven that a group of scientists have been hiding data, manipulating statistics, and silencing critics by intimidating the editors of publications that print research articles contrary to their own findings. Phil Jones, the head of The Climate Research Unit, has been forced to resign, and the media is finally realizing they can no longer turn their heads and hope this will go away. I've already started what will be a rather detailed piece on the issue, but it's a labour of love, so sit tight.

4 - Claire and I were worried about the crazy homeless guy who lives under the bridge near our home after he was chased away from his newspaper padded nook by a gang of more aggressive panhandlers (Apparently, the politics of begging can be quite nuanced and complex). After a couple of weeks of not seeing him, I was oddly relieved to find him hiding in the trees across the street. Well not exactly hiding in the trees, but standing very still next to a tree. Claire and I help him because he is certifiably insane, and not just some guy who only needs to sober up. He proves this quite often when we overhear him quoting biblical passages that involve Paul's Letters to the Corinthians mixed in with lyrics to Kenny Rogers' songs.

"I say onto thee, as our Father told us, you've got to know when to hold them..."

5 - I'm not kidding about that last part.

6 - Hey! Speaking of the Green Guardians at the Gate in Copenhagen, it's nice to know that the rules they are hell bent on imposing on the bigbadcorporations don't apply to them. The current "carbon footprint" of the defenders of the environment rings in at 1,200 Limos and 140 Private Jets - not counting the emissions from the mounds of pseudo-scientific horseshit that will be emanating from the conference all week.

7 - Challenge: To those who continue to make the bizarre comparison between the perpetually medicated Amy Winehouse and the brilliant Regina Spektor - if you can find one Winehouse song that sounds even remotely like this song by Spektor, I will admit on this very organ that Spektor is, indeed, just another "emo" hack.

8 - Have a great weekend, and watch out for the man!!

Cordially

Joe

Mr. Nice Guy - The Final Word on The Internet Age

It may come as a surprise to those of you who have never met me, but I have somewhat of a reputation for being a "nice guy". Not the kind of "nice guy" actors like Steve Carell are always portraying, who are so socially awkward and bumbling they are more the object of pity than respect. Nor am I the "nice guy" of lore who is eternally doomed to walk the earth as a single and lonely man playing the role of the perpetual sympathetic ear to every broken hearted girl - the male version of "always a bridesmaid, never a bride."

I won't irritate you with the list of things you might find on the last page of a YMCA job application, but I will say that I've always taken a certain pride in being known for my warmth, courtesy, good sense of humour, and quick wit - but lately, a strange phenomenon has been occurring. Some seem to be questioning that warm and fuzzy feeling they once harboured toward me. They're no longer quite sure what to make of me. A strange look crosses their face - kind of like the look you see on people who keep swigging from a carton of eggnog, trying to decide if it's gone bad or not.

It seems that with the dawn of social networking sites, people are discovering that I'm a Stephen-Harper-loving, George-Bush-cheering, Iraq-war-supporting capitalist. I have no use for quasi-fascist politicians like President Obama or Jack Layton (or the NDP as a whole for that matter), environmentalists, socialized medicine, socialism, or people who think that wearing a Che Guevara t-shirt makes you cool.

This is nothing new. I'm a university educated political scientist who's been writing about politics and the media for close to 15 years. In 1999, my former website "The Rant" was voted one of the top 5 conservative sites, and my blog has been mentioned by some of the largest political websites on the Internet, and was even referenced twice by a New York Times #1 best selling author. After my wife, my faith, my family, and maybe music, American politics has always been the great passion of my life. I live, breath and eat it. I've seen James Madison's wine cellar; I stood only a few feet away from Thomas Jefferson's desk and telescope; I even stood on the glass floor showing the foundation of the first Church in Jamestown. People often admonish Claire and I for not taking the same pains to visit the homes of our own country's leaders. It's a fair criticism, but one that has an easy enough rebuttal. Traveling 10 hours to see a crumbling duplex in Baie Comeau doesn't quite hold the same breathtaking appeal as walking the grounds of Jefferson's Monticello - a protected United Nations World Heritage Site.

Again, all of this is nothing new. These beliefs have been a part of my identity since I was 16 years old, but lately I've been feeling like the old guy who's exposed at end of every Scooby Doo episode when his rubber mask is ripped off by "those meddling kids". So it begs the question - what gives? The Internet, that's what gives.

Ever since Facebook came on the scene, there's a weird social cross-pollination occurring, and I've written about it previously. As people read and watch the things we post on our Facebook pages, they are peering into parts of our lives and personalities they didn't know existed. I've discovered some of my friends and acquaintances swear like cabbies and drink like sailors on shore leave. Some are devoutly religious. Some like to talk about their sexual escapades in graphic detail. Some are die hard anarchists, who believe the world is run by a covert network of Freemasons, Oil Executives, and "the military industrial complex". Others seem to blow through relationships like Micheal Jordon blows through money at the tables in Vegas.

And you know what? Who cares? Freddy foul mouth doesn't cease to be a nice person because he drops F-bombs like cracker crumbs on his profile page. It actually makes me admire him all the more, because it demonstrates that he has enough respect for the rules of polite society to realize it's not appropriate to 4-letter it out loud at the office. Amy the anarchist's views may annoy the hell out me, but that doesn't necessarily mean the sweet and caring attitude she demonstrates towards her co-workers is a phony pretense she puts on to lull us all into a false sense of security while waiting for the day she and her merry band of political malcontents succeed in tearing down the world's governing class.

At the end of the work day, everyone goes home, and if you're not near and dear to any given person, it shouldn't shock you that the tapestry of experiences and emotions that make up their personalities go beyond the realm of please, thank you, and idle pleasantries. We are the sum of our parts, and well, some of us let our parts hang out a little more than others in that strange little world called the "profile page".

It's all a little weird, and it's getting weirder:

Potential employers are now checking Facebook profiles before they even look at a someone's resume, and if you have a photo of the night you did a Jello shooter off the belly of that waitress, you may be the best accountant this side of Toronto, but your application is going to make a fast acquaintance with the office shredder. People are "Facebook stalking" old flames to see who they are with, who they talk to, and even try to track what bars they frequent. But I'm getting off topic. The world will always have it's weirdos and misguided HR departments. Facebook is just another vehicle to do - whatever it is they do.

So is "Mr. Joe Nice Guy" still a "nice guy" even though he's Reagan lovin', National Review reading, bomb the hell out of 'em all, right-wing son of a bitch? Well, not even my own wife can recall the last time I ever raised my voice. I am as cordial to strangers as I am to my friends, but some of my hippy dippy liberal friends can't square my sweet guy attitude with my conservative beliefs.

Let me help you.

I give food and sometimes money to the homeless guy who lives under the bridge near my home. I just don't think the government has any business forcing me to give my own - or anyone else's - money to him. I don't like being forced to recycle because some people are under the misguided belief that we're "killing the planet". If you want to recycle, have at 'er. Just don't fine me for putting a carrot peel in the "dry" garbage bag. President Bush may well have been a cowboy, but I felt safe at night knowing that he was a cowboy with his six shooter ready, saying "Stand back partner". I don't feel so safe anymore.

No one is a monolithic robot of banal pleasantries, and neither am I. Just because I believe in limited government, low taxes, free markets, and military spending doesn't mean I don't care about my fellow man. My wife was so shocked at people's bizarre and hostile reactions to both of our rather mainstream political beliefs that she's decided to remain silent when a conversation turns political, even though she often wants to blow her brains out when she's listening to someone parroting some idiotic banter they heard on CBC that morning.

Guess what? Not everyone thinks like you do- not even the occasional nice guy.

Cordially

Joe