Good News Told Badly

In my lifetime goal of raising dilettantism to new heights, I have finally succumbed to the temptation to blog. It is therefore inevitable that I fall into the traps well-known to others who have preceded me down this mist-enshrouded trail. I will either take myself too seriously, or not seriously enough.

So let me right away make the first mistake, which is one of seeing oneself as a political and social critic. I see that Nora Jones, singer-songwriter, has joined the list of celebrities who consider it “de rigeur” to speak out about “this government” and its activities. Whoop-de-do!

Norah’s from Texas and she’s got a new album called “Too Late” or something like that. Norah sings nicely and it amazes me how a good voice can dress up trite lyrics. The San Jose Mercury News quotes some lyrics from the new album:

“But fear's the only thing I saw/ And three days later it was clear to all/ That nothing is as scary as election day." Then: "Who knows? Maybe the plans will change/ Who knows? Maybe he's not deranged."
That’s evaporative, isn’t it? Ready for another one?
"In a boat that's built of sticks and hay/ We drifted from the shore/ With a captain who's too proud to say/ That he dropped the oar."
Gosh, where does such creativity come from? Just think of that analogy—a captain, a ship, and a dropped oar! Get it? Oh well, maybe the plans will change” and we will send folk singers and boring lyricists to pull people out of the next WTC disaster.
Back on the East Coast, there’s more drama with New Jersey Governor Corzine who lives life in the fast lane. That’s okay with me, but not if I’m driving on New Jersey highways while he’s barreling down the pick at 91 mph in his giant Suburban SUV. It’s kind of irritating the way Corzine’s people (and the police) came out with the “red pickup truck” story which allegedly caused the governor’s driver to head into a concrete wall. Did everyone buy the story hook, line, and sinker? Well, NJ’s a great place to fish, I’ll admit that.
But now Corzine’s ex-gf, some sort of big-time Communications Workers Union Leader, is on the front page of the New York Post telling about their love affair while they were both married (not to each other). It’s okay…. I’m not going into a bedroom morality play here but to depict that woman as some kind of hot number is a stretch of the imagination unless power makes you hot. I guess it was power made both of them hot for each other. Power and sex….I’m not sure I’d be able to resist the combination myself. But I’d like to try.
Money is the third thing. Sex, Money, Power. Money is what the feds found in Louisiana Congressman Jefferson’s refrigerator during the Katrina hurricane. About 90G in bribes, it is reported. The feds certainly took their time about that, especially when the money was handed over to Jefferson by an FBI sting operator. I suppose government prosecutors were too busy with the Scooter Libby case. There’s another of society’s dangers removed for 30 months. We can all sleep peacefully at night since the perpetrator of whatever dastardly crime he was supposed to have committed was given hard time.
I was looking for some good news and I found it in the New York Times. The good news is that there’s plant in Minnesota that processes turkey droppings into organic fertilizer. No, wait! there’s bad news in the second paragraph. It seems the environmentalists are bugging out about that, too. The plant uses electricity. But hell, the only thing that runs on vapors is Hilary Clinton.
To tell the truth, I’m not a Hilary Hater. I even like Hilary Clinton and think she would be a great mayor of New York City (especially Manhattan). Better than Bloomberg but not as good as Giuliani was. But still pretty good. Manhattan’s predatory liberal elite would find her irresistible. Hilary’s bright, communicates well, and has a quality of strength which is the stuff of country music. Had she spent five years in a North Vietnamese prison camp with broken bones and torture, I’d seriously consider her for commander-in-chief.
With me it’s either drought or hurricane wet. I’m well on my way to being another self-important boring blogster with this post. I should call this the “Maybe Blog”. Maybe I will have an international reporter come on board. I think it’s important to have a reporter from those largely unknown regions of the earth. I’m thinking of getting someone from Bulgaria. Bulgaria, that’s right. If that’s not proof enough of my sophistication….
Peace out…..
Moeursalen