NO BUSINESS LIKE HO BUSINESS

STEP ONE: MEET MARRIED CELEBRITY.
STEP TWO: FUCK MARRIED CELEBRITY.
STEP THREE: CALL GLORIA ALLRED.
STEP FOUR: EXTORT MILLIONS FROM MARRIED CELEBRITY.
STEP FIVE: GET FAMOUS FOR FUCKING AND BLACKMAILING MARRIED CELEBRITY.

IT'S A WONDERFUL WORLD.

The Arizona Law Doesn’t Go Far Enough

Arizona is on the right track. But what good is passing a law that makes it legal for law enforcement to stop anyone who appears to be Mexican when those people can blend right in with people of Mexican heritage who are here legally? It’s one thing to untie the hands of law enforcement to give them the power to stop anyone they might suspect of being illegal, but even if they catch one, it will just result in deportation. And, as we know, these are wily, resourceful people who have the proven ability to slip back across the border and, once again, blend right in. All this law will accomplish is continuing this cat-and-mouse game, or juego de gato y raton. We need a way to identify illegals permanently, so that even if they sneak back across the border, it will be impossible for them to hide in plain sight. That is why I am proposing what I consider to be an effective solution: paint them.

Of course, the first question that comes to any rational person’s mind is: Sure. But what color? Mexican people are identifiable by their brownish skin tone, which makes them indistinguishable not only from legal residents of Mexican heritage, but from most white people coming out of tanning parlors. Perhaps we could use the colors of the Mexican flag: red, green, and white. Though, obviously, white is out ‘cause that’s what we are. That leaves green and red.

But that still leaves problems. Even painted a distinctive red, Mexicans might be able to blend in with Native Americans at their many casinos. And the green might be problematic, because it would have to be a green that would make them stand out in a crowd of Irish-Americans on St. Patty’s Day or face-painted Packer fans on any given football Sunday. Given the free-wheeling, helter skelter atmosphere of most tailgate parties, a green Mexican might be able to disappear in the Packer crowd by cleverly tossing aside his trademark big dingle ball hat in favor of the popular yellow cheese tri-corner hat. So red by itself won’t work. Nor green alone. That leaves one obvious solution: stripes. Painting Mexican illegal aliens with green and red stripes would instantly identify them in any American crowd, whether at a Packer game, St. Patty’s Day parade, or Indian casino. 

Yet, while this tactic will ID any illegal in the daytime, what about at night? A clever alien might steal into the country in the dark of night, stay indoors during the day, and then take one of our more desirable night jobs as, say, an office building janitor, and then scurry home before sunrise. How do we deal with that? This brings in the second line of defense: tattoos. Of course, they would have to be somewhat ethnic specific, as tattoos among Americans have become increasingly popular. No Chinese characters, naked women, tramp stamps, or Born To Raise Hell graphics. A natural choice might be the Mexican flag emblem but that raises another problem. Their flag has a picture of an eagle. Sure, it’s not a bald eagle, like ours. Theirs is an eagle eating a snake; yet, if not seen up close, the eagle tattoo might make them seem just like ordinary, patriotic, albeit striped Americans. The tattoo would have to be something noticeable. Something that could be seen by law enforcement, even at a distance, or while passing by in a patrol car. The solution: a large “M” on the forehead. In glow-in-the-dark paint.

Combining these two devices -- red and green stripes, along with the large day-glo “M” on the forehead -- illegals would now be permanently identifiable, day or night, and only the most brazen among them would try to sneak back into the country, as they would be spotted a mile away, either by law enforcement, or by a concerned, armed citizenry now on the lookout for red and green-striped people with a glowing “M” on the forehead. Even a clever attempt to hide the tattoo, say, by wearing the traditional large, dingle ball hat to cover it would be futile, as it wouldn’t exactly be tough to spot a red and green-striped person wearing a large, dingle ball hat. 

Now, I imagine, to some bleeding heart liberals, the painting and forced tattoing of illegal immigrants will come off as extreme, even barbaric, inviting lawsuits, as well as protests by individuals concerned about individual rights and basic human decency. But, it’s just a suggestion. A stopgap measure. Eventually Congress will have to take up the issue and arrive at an effective, yet compassionate immigration policy, not just for those who are entering the country illegally, but for those who are here already. After all, this is the United States of America. Not some kind of crazy free-for-all. 

Mass. Hysteria

No, the American people haven’t spoken. There are 308,549,107 of us. Massachusetts has spoken. But it was hardly a mandate. There was no message, other than not to blow a double-digit lead in a crucial election. If Scott Brown had beaten Ted Kennedy, that would’ve been a message. This was independent voters saying they don’t like Democrats who try to skate into office, who take their votes for granted, and who think Curt Shilling was a Yankee fan. Brilliant campaigning. Why not just fart in a pot of Boston baked beans? But according to the GOP, it’s a new dawn in America. The new Brownie will save us from health care.

But now as the State of the Union approaches and we’re lousy with Obama first year analysis, I’ll add mine. The President did not sweep into office by connecting with the people. His real victory came against Hillary. He Scott Browned the shit out of her. But in the general election against McCain, go back to 2008…

The economy was in China Syndrome core meltdown. Paulson and Bernanke show up on Capital Hill with a 3-page note that read: “We have a gub. Put 750 billion in a bag, and don’t ask any questions.” And as the Republican candidate, McCain’s response was to begin shooting himself in the foot so often it was if he was re-enacting his time in Hanoi, this time as victim and torturer. “The state of our economy is strong.” BANG! I’m suspending my campaign until the crisis is over. BANG! Then the convention. Sarah’s purity ball. And a post-convention bump. For a moment, it looked like she might actually be his savior. Then she opened her mouth and went all Annie Oakley on herself. Katie Couric. BANG! Tina Fey and SNL. BANG! Republican stump appearances that looked and sounded like Klan rallies. BANG! Obama’s a Socialist! No, a Communist! No, a Muslim! He’s pallin’ around with terrorists! BANG, BANG, BANG, AND BANG!

Suddenly it looked like electing McCain president was tantamount to handing your senile grandpa the car keys so he could take a spin around the block while his retarded nurse rode shotgun. Obama’s intelligence and unflappability made him look like the safe choice by contrast. American didn’t suddenly swing left! We didn’t suddenly get religion and realize it was about time we elected an African-American to the White House. America did what it always does: voted its economic interest and figured we better not follow up 8 years of Republican incompetence with 8 years of Republican bumbling. Better to let the smart young kid drive. Yes, the result was historic. But the motivation was timeless. Fear.

Sure, Obama’s people were chess players. But then, when they got into office, they neglected to realize that governing is not a chess match. It’s a street fight. From day one the Republican strategy was to do everything in its power to destroy Obama’s image. Tarnish the brand. Put a dent in his popularity. Make him look vulnerable. No insult or accusation was too inane. Or too insane. Just keep hurling shit. Guilt by accusation. He’s Kenyan! He’s a Socialist! He’s ruining “our” country! He bowed to the Japanese! He’s Hitler! You lie!

But the President could’ve wiped all that shit away as the childish nonsense it was by keeping his focus on one thing: Americans vote their pocketbooks. Always did. Always will. From the moment they took office, the White House message should’ve consisted of just one word: jobs. Every advisor on every Sunday morning show should’ve repeated it like a mantra: We’re putting America back to work. And, assuming some of that might have actually been accomplished, and that message communicated, then with that much political clout and good will, the president could have trotted out a full-blown liberal agenda and America wouldn’t give a shit. An America at work doesn’t give a crap about socialized medicine. We don’t care about Socialism. Most Americans couldn’t even spell it, let alone define it. And all the Fucked News shrieking would’ve fallen on the deaf ears and full bellies of people who could still make their mortgage payments. The tea bag rallies would’ve looked like what it really was: Day trips for special needs adults.

Despite the missteps, I still have confidence in Obama. Not faith. Faith is bullshit. But he needs to understand we’re not a nation of thinkers. We’re a nation of reactors. That’s why we always go for the hope and change message. We always think the status quo is fucked (and most often, some part of it is) and the next guy is Jesus. It’s that savior mentality we have with head coaches, and presidents -- Things suck. The next guy will save us. Then when he doesn’t, we crucify him.

But there’s still time. You can’t pass health insurance reform? Build hospitals. Even in partnership with the private sector. Jobs and medical care rolled into one. Bring in young doctors andgive them the opportunity to work off their medical school loans in areas that need doctors. A 21^st Century Vista program. End run the bastards. 

One botched election is not a national movement. The only sense in which it’s a national movement is in the sense that the Republicans keep repeating the phrase “It’s a national movement,” until people start thinking it’s a national movement. Democrats will argue the fine points of policy like they’re in robes and it’s ancient Athens. Republicans pick a slogan and beat you to death with it. And they’re good at it. Because they know we’re basically a simple people. Give us jobs, cheap gas, and don’t raise taxes and you can start a government run health care chain called Karl Marx Memorial Hospitals, with the Mao Zedong Gift Shop and Joseph Stalin Parking Lot. With free parking. There’s nothing we love more than free parking. We’re really a very simple people. We don’t run on theories. We just want to work. And watch a little football.

PR DAMAGE CONTROL 101: HOW TO COME OFF SINCERE

(Instructions: Circle appropriate details; read at press conference with bowed head, somber voice, and look of contrition that says: “I’m sorry for what I did,” instead of “I’m sorry I got busted for what I did.” If possible, drag along significant other(s) to sit or stand beside you for support.)

“When reports recently surfaced IN THE PRESS/ON THE BLOGS/AT THE D.A.’S OFFICE/ATTORNEY GENERAL’S OFFICE/ON TMZ about my RUNNING A PONZI SCHEME/DOGFIGHTING/DRIVING WHILE INTOXICATED, CALLING A COP ‘SUGAR TITS’ AND MAKING ANTI-SEMITIC REMARKS/WHACKING AROUND MY WIFE, GIRLFRIEND/CARRYING ON AN EXTERAMARITAL AFFAIR(S) WITH A WAITRESS/HOOKER/PARTYGIRL/LINGERIE MODEL, I released a statement through my representatives that the allegations were not just completely without merit, but libelous, and that I intended to use every legal means at my disposal to clear my name.

Upon SOBER REFLECTION/MY MISTRESS(ES) COMING FORWARD/MY GIRLFRIEND SHOWING UP IN THE HOSPITAL WITH BRUISES ON HER FACE/SUGAR TITS’ ARREST REPORT/MY FRIENDS RATTING ME OUT/CELL PHONE VIDEO OF MY ARREST SHOWING UP ON TMZ, it has become painfully obvious that my previous statements were not exactly in line with the truth. In a desire to CLEAR MY NAME/RETAIN ELECTED OFFICE/RESURRECT MY CAREER/NOT PISS OFF NIKE, I now wish to come forward and be honest, and so it is with great sadness and deep personal regret that I admit that I DROVE DRUNK/BEAT UP MY GIRLFRIEND/ENGAGED IN FINANCIAL IMPROPRITIES/SPONSORED DOGFIGHTING/HAD NUMEROUS EXTRAMARITAL AFFAIRS. I deeply regret that I OFFENDED THAT COP/THE JEWS/MY WIFE/FAMILY/TEAMMATES/CONSTIUENTS/SPONSORS. I realize I have not only let them down, I have let myself down. All I can offer in my defense at this time is that my actions were the result of my own personal weakness and were not in line with my deep sense of morality and abiding faith in God.

For the last NUMBER of years, I have been proud to PLAY THE SPORT I LOVE/ACT/DIRECT/MAKE MUSIC/BE YOUR GOVERNOR, SENATOR, OR CONGRESSPERSON and it has been the joy of my life, second only to the love of my WIFE/FAMILY/NEIGHBORS/PARTNERS/COLLEAGUES/TEAMMATES/FANS.

I realize that I am a public figure and that my actions invite media scrutiny. I also realize that, as such, I am a role model and have an obligation to MY FANS/THE KIDS/MY SPONSORS/MY TEAMMATES/THE SPORT/MY OFFICE/SUGAR TITS. However, at this difficult time I would make a request for privacy as I begin SEX THERAPY/A.A./ANGER MANAGEMENT/COMMUNITY SERVICE/MY SENTENCE. I plan to use this time for introspection, and promise to bring to bear all the skills, focus, concentration, and faith I brought to MY SPORT/MY OFFICE/MY ART to learn to control my GREED/ DRINKING/RAGE/ANGER/ANTI-SEMITISM/INSATIABLE SEXUAL APPETITES at which time I hope to re-enter the SPORT/FAMILY/BUSINESS I love and get on with my life as a respectable member of SOCIETY/MY TEAM/MY SPORT/CONGRESS and hopefully act in such a way as to deserve the love and respect of MY WIFE/MY FAMILY/MY TEAMMATES/MY COLLEAGUES/THE FANS/GOD/NIKE.”

The Audacity of Dopes

Once upon a time in America there was at least a tangential relationship between fame and talent. Actors could act. Writers could write. Singers could sing. Of course, there were always freaky novelty acts, but they were in the sideshow, not the main arena. But now we live in the world of “reality stars” -- individuals with little discernable talent beyond a hunger for self-promotion so insatiable that they allow cameras into their private lives to document their personal failings, which then gets fobbed off as entertainment to a voyeuristic public. Infamy has become the new fame. Reality shows the venue for aspiring media monsters to strut the stuff they imagine they’ve got. A place for Goslins and Kardashians to wallow in their 15 minutes and, once there, claim it as a right of entitlement.

But now, out of the west, or northwest to be precise, has come a relatively new phenomenon: the reality politician – Sarah Palin. A novelty act governor who was plucked from obscurity and placed on the national stage. A campaign gimmick. A Hail Mary pass by a veteran politician so desperate to win he would try to fob off a grinning dumb belle as a Vice Presidential candidate. Someone who proved not just in those few short months, but since, that she would never let her ignorance get in the way of her ambition.

Thankfully, it didn’t work. But now… she’s back… with, well, it’s words on paper between two covers so I guess technically one has to describe it as a book. One that it seems should have been titled Profiles in Carnage because apparently her failure to catapult McCain to the White House was everyone else’s fault. Steve Schmidt. Nicole Wallace. Tina Fey. The SNL writers. Charlie Gibson. The liberal media. The AP. Apparently, all these people conspired to make her look stupid. It had nothing to do with her justification for her foreign policy experience being that Russian jets flew over her state. A response so inane that if a junior high school student on the debate team offered it up, she’d be laughed out of the auditorium. And the infamous Katie Couric “what do you read” gotcha question? Even your average idiot on the street trying to appear intelligent could’ve name-dropped “The N.Y. Times and Wall Street Journal” and no one would have been the wiser. These weren’t “gotcha” questions. These were softballs to anyone running for national office. And her answers were not up to par. But she thought they were. And that is frightening.

Ultimately, no one did more damage to Sarah Palin than Sarah Palin. She was handed a national platform on which she could dazzle the country with her brilliance. And she winked, smirked, and crapped all over it. Forget that she’s a woman. Forget that she’s from a more obscure state. Forget that she’s got a voice that sounds like a dolphin with a sinus condition. She could’ve opened her mouth and demonstrated her intelligence and grasp of issues both domestic and international. And people would have rightfully taken notice and been impressed. And if a question momentarily stumped her, she could have honestly copped to a lack of familiarity with the issue along with the intention to look into it, and people would have forgiven her lack of knowledge and possibly even appreciated some refreshing candor from a politician. Instead, we got cutesy evasions. “I’ll check into it and get back to ya.” “Hockey mom” jokes, “bridge to nowhere” lies, and “pallin’ around with terrorists” inflammatory accusations. “Pallin’ around?” This is the appropriate level of discourse for a presidential election?

And what have we been treated to since, when given a chance to comment on policy? Health care? “Death panels!” Economic crisis? “Socialism!” She can commission a dozen ghost-written books and it will never change the simple fact that she is not capable of participating in a substantive discussion on vital issues because that requires having knowledge, thoughts, and ideas. Not just talking points, surface slogans, jingoistic nonsense, and fake, folksy crackerbarrel chatter. She’s the anti-Susan Boyle. She’s physically appealing. But she can’t fucking sing.

And, yet, despite her ridiculous campaign performance and subsequent lack of ability to stand up and take responsibility for her own shortcomings, once again we have to endure the interviews, and the endless news reports about the interviews, during her battleground state book tour, along with the Republican cheerleader chant of “underestimate her at your peril.” Yes, we know, Mr. Gingrich -- everyone thought Reagan was an idiot, too. But just because she’s shrewd doesn’t mean she’s smart. You can’t teach intelligence. And the talking points of the week will eventually sound hollow when there’s no legitimate thought behind them. If there were a God who was paying special attention to Sarah…there isn’t… but if there were, his message to her would be to finish her smirkathon, sell some books, and then take that shit back to Alaska. Bad news for the moose. Good news for the rest of us.

And I would be relieved. Not that Mittens and Huck don’t cause me to wake up with 3 a.m. flop sweat, but this woman scares me. She is, as Carl Bernstein so accurately put it “an ignorant demagogue.” But when so many people are out of work, they get desperate. And desperation is the demagogue’s fertilizer. So, as much as I miss laughing at Tina Fey’s deadly accurate lampooning of her --a performance as satirically brilliant as Dan Aykroyd’s Nixon -- I would happily forgo seeing it again to keep Palin off the national and world stage. We have serious problems that need to be solved by serious people. Not politics’ answer to Kate Goslin.

Vietnamistan?

Many people have drawn the comparison between Vietnam and Afghanistan in terms of fighting a war without a clear objective. Some accept it. Others reject it. Putting aside how many troops (English translation: young Americans) Gen. McChrystal says he needs to accomplish the military goal in Afghanistan, we’re still left with the question: what is the political goal?

Are we fighting to deny Al Qaeda a base of operations and to keep American safe? “Fighting them there so we don’t have to fight them here?”

This is not a Bond movie. It’s not like we can destroy their secret base of operations in time to stop them from bombing the Super Bowl. So what if we take over Afghanistan? Apparently there are other countries in the world that will let them host their corporate retreat. Besides, it’s not like 9/11 was launched from a central location where they amassed tanks and an invasion force like D-Day. It was 19 young men with box cutters. 15 Saudis, 1 Egyptian, 1 Lebanese, and 2 from the UAE. No Afghans. No Pakistanis. No Iraqis. And they didn’t invade by landing on a beach. They slipped into the country, unnoticed. Took flying lessons unnoticed. Slipped through security with box cutters, unnoticed. Boarded planes unnoticed.

And at the end of the day they didn’t hijack planes and fly them into buildings. What they did was the unthinkable, and for all our kneejerk reactions (taking off our shoes at the airport; 3 oz. shampoo bottles) if there is another attack it will be equally unthinkable. We could reduce Afghanistan to Stone Age rubble (putting it back about 3 years in economic and social development) and it still wouldn’t eliminate the hate-filled mindset that created 9/11. That mindset is all over the world. It doesn’t take some Dr. Evil bearded mountain goat to hatch a nefarious plot. Just a few madmen with heads-full of pseudo-religious mania and the glories of martyrdom. Terrorism is now an international franchise. All you need to buy in is a copy of the Koran and a death wish.

Are we there to capture Bin Laden?

We’ve had 8 years and we still can’t find him. It’s officially the longest game of hide-and-go-seek in history. So what if Bin Laden’s captured? We get a war crimes trial? An execution? A few people get justice and other people get a new martyr, and the insanity goes on. In our cult of personality culture, it’s easy to fixate on a single person as the embodiment of evil.

For years, Khadafi was out to destroy the world. We tried to bomb him once. Didn’t work. Then we barely heard his name for decades until Scotland released the Locherbie bomber and then Khadafi showed up at the U.N. in his Snugglie and went nuts for over an hour. Still crazy after all these years.

Then it was Saddam with his WMDs who was intent on destroying us. Well, he’s dead. And “the surge worked” meme has been hit so hard that it’s become synonymous with “the Iraq war was noble, justified, and served a legitimate purpose.” Fine, even if you buy that, now Iraq has been freed from the clutches of an evil dictator and they’re on their way to enjoying the gift of American free-market capitalism. Welcome to our nightmare.

Are we fighting to free the people of Afghanistan from the Taliban?

Afghanistan is 12^th century mountainous shithole with a corrupt “central government,” local warlords, and 80% of its economy comes from growing poppies for heroin. Do we think once we take over all those farmers are going to suddenly start growing wheat? Yes, the Taliban are religious zealots who throw acid in the faces of little girls who have the audacity to want to learn. How do we wipe out crazy?

During the election, Obama came out against Iraq and for shifting the struggle to Afghanistan. If he had advocated pulling out of both wars the Republicans would have hit him for abandoning the “war on terror” and weakening the country. But now, what’s the sense? The Republicans will hit back no matter what he does. If he escalates, he’s putting us deeper into a quagmire, wasting money and blood. If he pulls out, he’s a typical Democrat who’s weak on defense.

We haven’t learned the lessons from the Russians in Afghanistan any better than we learned the lessons of the French in Vietnam. So, until someone in power can articulate specific, discernable, achievable political goals, then what’s the sense in debating military strategies? Why argue about directions when we have no idea where we’re going?

Four decades ago, it was the same shifting rationale: We’re stopping the spread of Communism. We’re saving the South Vietnamese people. Pacification. Winning hearts and minds. Vietnamization… Now we can buy shirts made in Vietnam and American business is all over the country. Saigon is Ho Chi Minh City. After 55,000 American, and 3 million Vietnamese dead, we bugged out in 1975 by calling it “peace with honor.”

Given how easily manipulated the American public is, and how susceptible we are to ad campaigns, maybe all we need to bug out here is a good slogan. Like, maybe: “Afghanistan: Been there, done that”? And perhaps a theme song to go with it. Something like “Oops!... I did it again.”

Obama Wins Family Monopoly Game: Sparks Right Wing Outrage

Press Secretary Robert Gibbs announced this morning that the President and his family played a game of monopoly in the White House kitchen this past Sunday, which was won by the President. Reaction from the right was instantaneous and vitriolic.

Bill O’Reilly decried the callousness with which the President of the United States would treat the real estate crisis as just “some game” when so many Americans are losing their homes to foreclosure, showing how out-of-touch he is with the concerns of regular folks, and once again showing his imperiousness as he “fiddles while Rome burns.”

Similarly outraged, Glenn Beck demonstrated on a black board how the President’s buying Short Line, Pennsylvania, B & O Railroads and the Electric Company was indicative of his socialist plot for a complete government takeover of industry, not to mention the obvious land-grabbing in the game itself. Beck noted that the building of houses and hotels on properties such as Park Place clearly showed his intention to place SRO hotels and substandard public housing in upscale neighborhoods, inevitably leading to class warfare and revolution, as outlined in Karl Marx’s Communist Manifesto.

Sean Hannity questioned the President’s victory in the game, itself, insinuating that perhaps it was indicative of shady financial dealings, particularly in the purchase of Illinois Avenue, which is “of course, the result one would expect when you’re dealing with Chicago politics, payoffs, bribes and cronyism.”

The hosts of Morning Joe pondered if the President truly understood the depth of the economic crisis facing this nation, in that he had no problem spending his time gambling in the White House while the country was facing financial ruin. And of course, there was concern over the President’s winnings. The Press Secretary noted that there was no actual gambling, and the game involved play money which all went back into the box when the game was over, sparking accusations from Pat Buchanan of “redistribution of wealth” and of “killing the American entrepreneurial spirit that made this country great,” along with the fact that each player collecting 200 dollars every time they went around the board amounted to little more than a “welfare program that we can ill afford when the government is up to its neck in a deficit that will cripple the economy for generations to come.”

Rush Limbaugh’s fury was so uncontrollable that he was unable to speak. He simply turned red with rage, inflated to twice his size, blew out the veins in his head, exploded, and shat out Lou Dobbs and the entire cast of Fox & Friends.