Moominpapa

along comes this Florida woman and her frigging ten-year-old sandwich that definitely has the Virgin Mary on it.

And the rest of the world wonders why so many retards voted for Dubya.

reading the stories about how the Pentagon is scraping the barrel, calling back for active service Army band members, guys over fifty, even some people whose reserve period was finished?

It's pretty clear to me now that the commander of the American armed forces is Zap Brannigan.

Ever notice how spam message headers sound like really cool naval/military/Starfleet commands?

"Increase dick length now!"

"Aye aye captain!"

One of the prettiest kitties in the world has left us. It was time, she was nineteen, she'd had a good run. We all said goodbye to her this morning as we left, because she couldn't even stand any more. Cindy and I booked an appointment with the vet this evening to put her out of her weariness, but we were both hoping she'd go at home, and it turned out she did. Many, many nights I sat here at the computer and she would come in and sit at my feet or right behind my chair, so tonight we're sharing the room for the last time. She was a wonderful queen bitch in her younger days; Cindy and I joked that she must have been an Egyptian royal cat in a former life. Then she got fat and we called her "cow cat," and for Cindy's birthday one year I found a card in the Brown bookstore that actually was an artist's picture titled "Cow cat" and we had a good laugh about it. I think Death initially had her booked to check out about ten years ago, when she got very bad fatty liver disease and we brought her home from the vets because they didn't think they could do anything more for her. I think she was so mad at the indignities I put her under (force feeding and sub-cutaneous fluid injections) that she decided to have the last laugh by getting better and then getting under our feet for the next decade. In the last few years she mellowed and was very forgiving with the kids as they showed their affection and wonder in that great, violent way kids have. We'd have to constantly tell Evan to be gentle as he gave her bone-crushing hugs or picked her up and then dropped her because she was heavier than he realised. But in the last few days the cow cat of old was a very distant memory as she stopped eating and stopped drinking and became very light, though up until today still managing to sniff her way around the house, her eyes having been for a while now just all black. So it was time, and she looks very peaceful so I'm happy for her, but we'll all miss her terribly. Good night sweet cat.

We've bitten the bullet. On Friday we're switching back down to the most basic level of cable service: just the local network affiliates. It's been a long time coming but I'm feeling good about it. I don't watch much tv anyway, but there are a few programs I like to watch that are just on cable channels like BBC America, History Channel, etc. But the utter wretchedness of sitting through the same commercials every ten minutes has become too much to bear. No program is good enough for me to keep putting up with that. Besides, these days everything ends up on DVD (or VHS) at some point, and I can wait. Given the inane drivel that the networks run, this means I'll be practically giving up broadcast televeision altogether.

Congratulations cable companies, your shameless greed has lost you another customer.

Bye bye commercials--I won't miss you.

Today President Bush announced that by the end of the decade the United States would send a manned rocket to Heaven.

I'm baffled. If I went on tv and announced that I was going to be giving away nuggets of gold to anyone who wanted one, you'd expect to see, very quickly, a line of people outside my house that stretched for miles, right? That's a no-brainer, an utterly predictable result following my announcement.

Yet here we have Colin Powell saying to the world that well, yeah, there might not have been any weapons of mass destruction in Iraq after all (see here) and I sit back in gleeful expectation that every single American who has a family member serving in the military overseas will head to Washington and demand Powell's head on a platter (along with the heads of the other members of the Chimp's adminstration) but instead I see nothing. No news reports about angry crowds of veterans and soldiers' families blocking the steps of the Capitol, screaming for justice.

Excuse me, but WTF is wrong with you people? Are your brains so rotted from television that you have forgotten Powell at the United Nations, presenting his "evidence" about the WMD? That's why US servicemen and women went over there, remember? all those nasty weapons that the administration "knew" Iraq had? That's why lots of American pilots, most of whom are probably very decent men and women who love their kids and their dogs, dropped cluster bombs and cruise missiles on cities, towns and villages, remember? That's why Iraqi families have been shot up in their cars at US checkpoints, why reporters have been killed by tankfire, remember? And it's why every week some more US soldiers get killed, or get their legs blown off, or their arms, or their faces - stuff that makes it hard for the kids and the dogs when those soldiers get back home, all done because Iraq had these weapons of mass destruction and was ready to use them against America, remember? Remember the scorn and contempt that was poured on people who doubted the administration? Anyone with more than two brain cells knew that not only was the administration's "evidence" pathetic, but that the idea of Iraq posing the slightest threat to America was the stupidest thing they had ever heard. But oh how the Republicans and their media lapdogs shrieked - you had to support America! support the President! the mad Muslims were ready to unleash chemical/nuclear/biological hell upon God's country! Anyone who questioned the administration was a traitor! There was no time to wait for the UN inspectors to continue looking for the WMD, there was no time to lose! Disaster for America was imminent! The US had to invade! US soldiers had to be put in harm's way and Iraqi citizens had to be cluster bombed, to save America from the weapons of mass destruction!!!!

And now? Well yeah, says Colin, actually there might not have been any weapons like that after all.

Why was I not kept awake all night by the outraged screams of Americans? Why aren't people whose kids got blown out of their Humvees in some Baghdad street not piling into cars and buses and trains and heading for Washington or storming the major network news studios and demanding the instant resignation of this administration followed by their prosecution for crimes against humanity?

I have to ask again, because I truly am baffled by the silence: WTF is wrong with you people?

Last night I watched one of the movies I bought myself with the Amazon gift certificate I got for Xmas. "The Third Man" - pure perfection, the film equivalent of a pint of Ben and Jerry's Bovinity Divinity. Part of the intense pleasure is seeing clearly that for the people who made that film there was nothing unusual about making a grown up film, for grown ups, about the grown up world. Today you are surprised when a film addresses you as an adult, because the infantilism of Hollywood (and of network television) is overwhelming.

Still to come from me to me: "Touch of Evil" and "Night of the Hunter" (long Homer drool). Give sacrifices and offerings of thanks for The Criterion Collection.

I should point out that my evening got started with a great bottle of wine and two musical presents: Bad Company's first album and the remastered "Bob Marley and the Wailers Live!" - two nuggets of 24-carat mid-Seventies gold.

In today's Counterpunch there is a good piece by Mark Hand which takes up an idea from Matt Taibbi: prosecute for war crimes those media organs that act as cheerleaders for acts of aggression such as the US invasion of Iraq. This is an idea whose time has come. It is one thing to allow freedom of speech for what are clearly identified as OpEd pieces, but it is quite another to allow to go unchecked (a) a pro-war slant in what does get printed and (b) an egregious failure to ask the questions and chase the stories that any unbiased and properly interested-in-getting-at-the-truth journalist would normally be following like a bloodhound after a fox. The shameful performance of the mainstream US media in covering the dealings of this administration is not just a failure, but an active collaboration pursued out of self-interest at the expense of American citizens (and the lives of many citizens of other countries). Just as this administration has committed crimes and should be prosecuted for them, so should the press that has been its willing partner.

Don't forget, if you aren't on Orange Alert right now, YOU HATE AMERICA!

Blahs tonight. Had to go to Toys-R-Us, to buy Christmas presents for the boys. Don't like the place - filled with crap - but I knew it would have one particular thing we wanted to get (cassette player with microphone attached - nothing like hearing faint strains of Elmo through the tuneless roarings of a toddler). In truth, I despise most modern toys and the mindset that produces them and the mindset that makes them profitable to produce. One thing did catch my eye, though; one toy that really stood out. It was a solid, old-fashioned, wooden abacus. I looked at it and it just struck me as such a thing of absolute beauty. There it was, in a sea of worthless, shoddy, utterly disposable junk, and I thought how cool would it be if you stripped everything else off the shelves and replaced them with that. Imagine a whole Toys-R-Us with nothing on sale but abacuses. How many heads would that mess with?

I informed my wife last night that I was leaving her for Vincent D'Onofrio. "I love him and want to have his babies, " I said, and she understood perfectly. The man is hypnotic - currently for me the most watchable actor on tv. I don't think Law and Order: Criminal Intent is as good all round as the original Law and Order (few things are, let's face it), but D'Onofrio makes even a mediocre script bearable.

(On the subject of Law and Order, one of the biggest entertainment shocks I've had in a few months was watching for the first time an episode of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit and seeing how bad it was. Horribly cliched script and lousy acting - I couldn't believe this was the same franchise that brought us the other two shows.)

What's interesting is that the other stellar performance by a man on tv at the moment is utterly *un*watchable. Ricky Gervais is doing an incredible job in making The Office's David Brent unbearable. Every mistimed and misjudged joke, every little rhetorical question, every superbly timed sidelong glance away from the presumed "interviewer" towards the camera is perfect. Gervais deserves a medal for the sacrifice he is making in turning himself into the most despised and contemptible figure on the airwaves. He makes me cringe so much that I sometimes find myself hiding my eyes like a little kid with a scary movie, or I quickly change the channel because I can't bear the embarrassment he causes - and I'm an adult who knows this is fiction! That's a tribute to the greatness of his performance: you know it's not real, but it's so spot on that every moment feels agonisingly, skin crawingly real.

Ricky Gervais and Vincent D'Onofrio: can't watch, must watch.

Take me out to the ballgame? No, just take me out and shoot me. How could the Red Sox blow it? Anyone who doubts that the curse exists must now admit this is a team against whom the gods conspire in a very Ancient Greek way. If scientists mate a Red Sox fan with a Cubs fan, they will produce the perfect loser - a human being destined to be constantly taken to the edge of fulfilment and just as constantly have it snatched away.

Hey Red Sox fan, as you stand on the bridge late tonight with a couple of cinder blocks tied to your ankles, just remember that it is only a game. It's a game played by knucklehead overgrown adolescents who act like prima donnas and who make more money than some small countries; it's a game run by corporations whose only interest is in screwing every cent they can out of the hapless fan, who would put a game on at 2am if they thought it could increase their broadcast revenue, and who threaten to move teams at the drop of a hat if taxpayers don't help them build an even bigger stadium. So untie those weights and step down from the parapet - the game isn't worth it.

Unelected fraud and incompetent moron George W. Bush gave one of his "speeches" yesterday. As usual he chose the safety of a military audience, relying on their strong sense of duty to the POTUS as their nominal commander in chief to stop them from tarring and feathering him (which I hope many of them felt like doing). As usual, the "speech" was ridiculous lying BS. Here's a prime sample:

"America must not forget the lessons of 11 September," Mr Bush said.

Ack! Once again the Chimp shamelessly prostitutes the English language in search of justification.

The concept of learning a lesson from an occurrence necessarily implies a train of logic that connects the two. Sometimes the connection is obvious, sometimes it needs to be discovered by after-the-event investigation. From what we saw right away and from what subsequent investigation revealed, the obvious lessons of 11 September are these: (1) America has good intelligence gathering capability but needs to improve its collating and analysis of the gathered intelligence; (2) there needs to be better interagency cooperation between the various agencies responsible for intelligence and national security; (3) determined terrorists will come up with new ways to attack civilian populations; (4) a savage attack on civilians provokes international sympathy and opens opportunities for international cooperation that might not have been there before.

Whatever your political persusasion, you would probably agree with my list, though you may have others. How, then, did we get from these lessons and their implications to having US troops on the ground in Iraq, dying almost daily? You know the answer: it is because the Chimp administration came up with an extraordinary lesson of their own: because of 9/11, we must invade Iraq. Carl Sagan once said, a propos of Velikovsky's work, that extraordinary claims demand extraordinary evidence in support. Likewise, lessons that are extraordinary in the sense that there seems to be no logical connection between the event and the lesson demand extraordinarily strong evidence.

The Chimpies assured America that Iraq was an imminent threat to the citizens and institutions of this country. How so? - because they were sponsoring and training Al-Queada terrorists, because they had an active program to produce weapons of mass destruction, and because they had stockpiles of those weapons ready to use at (in battlefield terms) a moment's notice - 45 mins. This, Americans and the UN and the rest of the world was assured, was the evidence that provided the logical justification for invading Iraq. The only problem is, the Chimp's administration has not yet produced a single shred of that evidence.

The CIA itself, baffled by the administration's claim, said there was no known connection between Al-Queada and Saddam's regime; on the contrary, it was known that Osama Bin Laden despised Saddam for being too secular. There is no evidence that Saddam had an active program to produce WMD. Hans Blix and his inspectors looked all over for it but found nothing; they pleaded for more time; they pleaded with US intelligence to let them in on any sites they might know about; but in the end they still found nothing. Nada. Zilch. Joseph Wilson was sent to investigate the possibility that Iraq was trying to buy Uranium yellowcake; his conclusion: no. The tubes that were supposed to be for a centrifuge? no, said all the experts. And after the invasion, when the US could at its leisure send out teams of special forces troops hungry to find the evidence, still nothing. Nothing. A bioweapons trailer? No, a trailer for producing hydrogen for balloons, said the British. Huge stockpiles of biological agents? Nothing. Deadly weapons that could kill thousands at 45 mins readiness? Nothing. </i>Nothing.</i> "We need more time," say the Chimpies, apparently forgetting that they insisted to Hans Blix (when he asked for the same thing) there was no more time and Iraq had to be invaded right now, dammit, otherwise American lives would be lost.

Well George, you prick, you lying, dumb, draft-dodging, cowardly excuse for a man, Americans did die after all. They died - and are still dying - because you plucked a "lesson from 11 September" right out of thin air, a lesson that had not one single connection to reality, a lesson in fact perfectly suited to your own administration and presidency (which, if there is any justice in the world, will go down in history as the worst ever in the United States).

How can this man stand in front of National Guard personnel and not faint from shame?

"Who you callin' incompetent, motherfucker?"

You use every psychological means you have to repress it but you still know, deep in the scarier places of your mind, that out there in California, perhaps in the mountains and forests but more likely in the Palmdales and El Cajons, there are people who voted for Arnold because they think he's going to be in real life the badass he is in his movies. Oh yeah, they are chuckling to themselves, let's just see some union negotiator try to intimidate the governor by stubbing a cigar out on his chest; Arnie will throw that guy so far he'll think he's grown wings. Huuuh huuuh huuuh. Got some dude lobbying to reinstate property taxes? Arnie will dangle him over a cliff by his ankle until he shits his pants. Kewl! Yup, Arnie's not gonna put up with that wimpy politician bullshit - he's his own man: tough, reliable, relentless, and if he has to kick some ass to get it done, well that's the way it's gotta be.

You know they're out there.

The real Moominpappa is the creation of the late, great Tove Jansson (1914-2001), a Finnish author who wrote a series of books about the Moomin family, their friends, and their adventures. If you have never read any of her Moomin books, I strongly recommend them (start with Comet in Moominland). They are "for children," but like all good children's literature they give something to everybody.

Like Moominpappa, sometimes I want to be at sea, looking for adventures in exotic new lands; often, though, I simply feel at sea, especially in this the strangest of all the strange lands.