The Olympic (Backyard) Games

China is scrambling to finish preparations for the onslaught of world athletes that will descend upon Beijing next month.

Just a few minor details, really; locking up rogue dissidents, putting Tienanmen's tanks in the garage and extending factory workers shifts to twenty hours (from nineteen) in the plant that fabricates minature USA flags.

NBC will broadcast the events and they have been airing several promotions that are clearly intended to tug at our star spangled heart strings.

NBC's ads are not so subtly targeted as an appeal to our nations war weary conscience. One promo shows a montage of past Olympic triumphs, and joyous victories being celebrated with a group hug by athletes from all countries. We see an Iranian athlete hugging an Olympian from the United States, shown in slow motion for bonus dramatic appeal. John Lennon's Utopian anthem, Imagine, plays us through the entire commercial.

Touching.

If you haven't seen this commercial yet, simply turn on NBC and wait for all of about five minutes.

It's worth noting that after the Olympics conclude, we're likely to see this very same commercial in a cleverly edited Republican National Committee spot. A little photo-shop cut'n paste will show Barack Obama hugging Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Sean Hannity will report this scoop on Hannity and Colmes, Hannity's America, Hannity! or Hannity and Hannity.

The Olympics are the one mega sporting event that allow full-time dreamers like me the delusional audacity to think that, with a little intestinal fortitude and a few minutes on the dreadmill each morning, I too could be an Olympic athlete.

C'mon, admit it. You've had the same thoughts as well, haven't you?

A partial list of sports that Olympians will be competing in Beijing include Archery, Badminton, Road Cycling (riding a bike), Table Tennis (referred to in China and my basement as Ping Pong) and, my personal favorite, trampoline.

Yes, trampoline.

I'll be attending a 4th of July barbeque this weekend and we'll be playing Badminton. I'm gonna bear down and really, really focus. The 2012 Summer Olympics are in New York.

I'll be ready.

Worldwide Pride(!) And Worldwide Pride(?)

World Gay and Lesbian Pride weekend has just wrapped up and the results are conclusive. Gay people throw a pretty sweet party.

In major cities around the globe, cable news broadcast ample video of dudes dressed like hideously ugly women, and girls that resemble any guy I've ever met that would beat me silly if I so much looked them in the eye.

It was awesome.

It wasn't too long ago when Gay Pride seemed to be exclusively celebrated in San Francisco, with a mile long parade on Castro Street (these days referred to as "lunch break") that was filled with drag queens in elaborate costumes, led by parade Grand Marshall's the Cowboy and Construction Worker from The Village People.

Ahhh, the good old days.

Gay Pride has since gone global. This year, from San Francisco to Paris, millions of gays, lesbians and closeted heterosexuals painted the sky pastel and celebrated their sexual orientation.

Yay.

It was a worldwide call to action. The revelers marched, danced, primped and chanted with unified urgency.

We're here, we're queer, and, uh, we're still here. Hello? I said we're still here!!! OMG! Are you listening to us?! Oh, whatever!!!

We hear you loud and clear. And I, for one, have heard enough.

I've succumb to gay hating fatigue and I'm now compelled to fight back.

Huh, you query? Gay hating fatigue?

Yes.

It appears to me that the steady increase of in-your-face pride throughout the years may be the result of the gay population having to ever aggressively fight back at the well oiled - and well funded - machine of evangelical conservatives.

Honestly, I don't take sides here. At least on the issue of same-sex marriage. In an earlier post (California Is So Gay!) I bandied about the idea that our secular nation nixay marriage all together, in favor of civil unions for all human citizens. The newly unified couple would then have an option to have their civil union be blessed as a marriage in the church of their choosing.

This is why the Catholic Church that I worship calls marriage a sacrament. I should know, I've done it three times. The church is a little pissed about the last two, so consider my Catholic guilt-o-meter fueled into perpetuity.

The religious righteous warns of catastrophic, apocalyptic consequences if we, as a nation, condone the same-sex lifestyle by recognizing civil unions. With that, it's worth noting that the earth did not open and swallow Pride revelers in New York, San Francisco, Minneapolis, or any other highly gay populated cities during Pride festivities.

Depending on which political tightrope you tether, you believe (or are led to believe) that between two and ten percent of the human race are homosexual. For me, the actual number is irrelevant.

What matters to me is a level playing field where same-sex unions continue to exist, as they always have, however with the same access to public and private benefits that heterosexual unions receive.

I've heard complaints from detractors that suggest the gay community has an ultimate agenda of establishing themselves as a protected "minority" group.

Hogwash.

I don't know why some people are gay, and I also don't know why others are straight. We are just one or the other, I suppose.

We just are.

Let's take pride in that.

Karl Rove's Mistaken Metaphor

Fox News political analyst and former marionette to President Bush's puppet, Karl Rove, invoked a curious metaphor the other day in his latest attempt to portray Barack Obama as an "out of touch elitist".

Rove was having breakfast at The Capital Hill Club (not a Country Club) with a group of Republican insiders. When the topic of Barack Obama came up, Rove referred to the Illinois Senator as "coolly arrogant".

"Even if you never met him, you know this guy," Rove said. "He's the guy at the country club with the beautiful date, holding a martini and a cigarette that stands against the wall and makes snide comments about everyone who passes by."

Perhaps Rove was uncovering repressed memories from his youth at the Country Club as the lonely fat kid. Like Spalding from the movie Caddyshack.

I'm nearly certain that Senator Obama is not a member of a country club. I would presume it stands to reason that Obama has enough of a "tan" to probably be "overlooked" for membership at more than a few Country Clubs in and around the Beltway.

Let's say though, just for fun, that Obama was that guy Rove claims him to be. What would Obama, in full "coolly arrogant" splendor, say to Karl Rove at the Country Club?

Nothing.

Except maybe, just maybe, for the sake of perspective and a bit of bemusement, Obama would say to Rove; "excuse me, waiter. My beautiful date that you would never have a shot at dating in a million years and I would like to place an order".

"Just don't bring us that same crap you've been serving us for the past 7 years".

Soundtracks That Made Good Movies Great

Last year Vanity Fair magazine tackled the ambitious task of compiling a list of what their editors felt were the top fifty movie soundtracks of all time. The matrix that they used to determine their findings was rather nebulous, other than the lone requirement being that the soundtrack must be a commercially marketed offering that is associated with and included in the movie it represents.

Here are the top ten Vanity Fair favorites;

01. Purple Rain
02. A Hard Day's Night
03. The Harder They Come
04. Pulp Fiction
05. The Graduate
06. Superfly
07. Trainspotting
08. Saturday Night Fever
09. American Graffiti
10. The Big Chill

Seems like a decent enough top ten, at least on the surface. Dig a little deeper through introspection, however, and the list appears suspect. At least to me it does.

I've always considered these "best of" lists as an exercise in futility, because what often results is disgruntled responses from the targeted audience about the names that weren't included on the list.

Pure and simply, a musical soundtrack to a film should be measured by how well they compliment each other. The soundtrack should be a compilation of artists and - with the best ones - offer an eclectic mix of musical genres, styles and era, to the extent that if you listened to the soundtrack without having seen the film, the musical production simply wouldn't make sense.

A good soundtrack and a good movie, when cleverly created as a piece of art not exclusive to each other, can result in some of the greatest and most memorable moments in film.

Here are a few of my favorites, which is not intended to be reduced to another "best of" list that I lament. My examples will include the movie, along with a defining moment of the film that would have been lost and entirely forgettable had the song not been included.

• Magnolia - An amazing movie, in and of itself. The Director, Paul Thomas (PT) Anderson (Boogie Nights, There Will Be Blood), is one of my favorites in Hollywood. This movie has a soundtrack that is not as diverse in artist selection as I typically would like to see in a movie soundtrack, however what it lacks in variety is adequately compensated with emotional offerings that punctuate the varying personal introspection that the films viewers experience.

An unforgettable musical moment is during the playing of Wise Up (track 8 on the soundtrack), by Aimee Mann, played in full when the core characters are all shown in a rapid fire montage, as they rise to a tipping point in their own personal existence, both as victims or destructive adversaries. Extremely powerful.

• Garden State - Fantastic example of an average movie that rises to the level of a nearly great movie because of the soundtrack. The soundtrack runs perilously close to being too EMO cool, escaping by the chinny-chin-chins of Colin Hay and Simon and Garfunkel. Coldplay, Nick Drake, Bonnie Sommerville and Indie darling Iron and Wine are all included, along with those coffee house poets from Albuquerque, The Shins. Despite what Sam (played by the ever luscious Natalie Portman) says in the movie though, The Shins will not change your life. They might make you appear gay though, especially when mixed in the same iPod playlist with Belle and Sebastian. Nothin' wrong with that though.

A defining musical moment in Garden State is the playing of The Only Living Boy In New York, by Simon and Garfunkel (track 10 on soundtrack), making a very predictable "coming of age" moment in the film seem genuinely earnest.

Another is the soft, acoustic song from Colin Hay, I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You (track 5 on soundtrack), played during the funeral scene for Sam's pet hamster.

• Good Will Hunting - Ever heard of singer/songwriter Elliott Smith? Neither had I until I saw Good Will Hunting for the first time when it was released in theaters in 1997. Immediately after leaving the theater I hit a nearby Best Buy and bought the movie soundtrack and two Elliott Smith CD's. The soundtrack is a compilation, however the entire score was managed by Smith and nearly half of it showcases his touching melodies and brooding lyrical prose. Smith was nominated for an Academy Award that year for his song, Miss Misery, losing out on his Oscar to the runaway favorite horse(face), Celine Dion (My Life Will Go On, from Titanic). Sadly, Elliott Smith died in 2004. A Los Angeles Coroner ruled cause of death as suicide.

My favorite Good Will Hunting musical moment was during the schoolyard brawl scene, where Will (played by Matt Damon) finally gets his revenge on a childhood bully by beating the living holy crap out of him. As the scene gains momentum, Gerry Rafferty's classic 1978 song Baker Street (track 10 on the soundtrack) guided us through to the scenes climax, the arrival of Boston Police to haul Will Hunting off to jail. Awesome.

• Rushmore - My hands-down, without a doubt, absolute favorite soundtrack of all time (shocker!). This soundtrack is packed with twenty tracks of pure relevance. The steady mix of pop music - past and present - compliment the musical score numbers of Mark Mothersbaugh perfectly. This movie is a must see and the soundtrack is a must own.

Choosing one Rushmore moment that defines the film is a little like asking which shade of a blue sky is my favorite. It's all very enjoyable. One that probably elicits the most dramatic appeal for me is the song, Ooh La La, by The Faces, played at the final curtain before the closing credits roll, playing us home with a slow motion dance hall scene that includes the entire character ensemble. This scene never gets old for me.

• Juno - If you listen to this soundtrack before seeing the film, you may be inclined to pitch it in the circular file and write it off as a learning experience. This compilation is peppered with the most random barrage of kitchy musical numbers I can recall ever hearing on one CD. It only makes sense after seeing the movie, which isn't to say that the movie or the soundtrack is great, by any stretch. Juno, the film, is barf-inducingly too precious at times. For me, the contrived banter of Juno was only tempered by the movies music.

The opening credit scene of the film introduces us to Juno as she purposely strides through her neighborhood toward the corner drug store to buy a pregnancy test (or seven), while guzzling a Costco size jug of Sunny D. The harmonica laden song, All I Want Is You, by Barry Louis Polisar (track 1 on the soundtrack) marches right along with her. Good stuff. To borrow from the movies ridiculously contrived dialogue; this ain't no etch-a-sketch. This soundtrack is one doodle that can't be undid, Homeskillet. Indeed.

Back to the Vanity Fair list.

As much as I feel that Prince's Purple Rain is a brilliant work of art, I can honestly say that I would feel the same way had the painfully awful and nearly unwatchable movie never been made. At the very least though, Purple Rain the soundtrack made Purple Rain the movie bearable. Ironically though, its music made the movie timeless.

And that's why music matters when it comes to movies.

The Many Faces Of The Second Amendment

On a Friday night in February 2006, after enjoying a relaxing family dinner at a restaurant in North Scottsdale, Mrs. Fischer and I arrived home to find that our home had been burglarized, vandalized, turned upside down and violated beyond any previous measure I had experienced.

Our first reaction was to stay out of the house until the police arrived, lest the robbers were still in our home. While waiting for Phoenix Police to arrive, our all consuming state of astonished disbelief could only be tempered by a quiet, almost surreal, embrace of each other.

The police response was more than adequate, both in their prompt arrival to our crime scene (formerly known as our home) and for the calm empathy afforded to us as we were coming to grips with this egregious violation.

The police stayed for about an hour, snapping photos and dusting for finger prints (there were none). Before leaving one of the officers directed us on how to access the crime report for our insurance claim. Sadly, the officer instructed us in the kind of matter-of-fact way that implied this was a speech that she routinely gave. We soon learned that it was.

During a three month span during early 2006, home invasion crime in our neighborhood increased by nearly 300% from the previous year. All of the crimes met the same profile; thieves break in the back door from the alley, snatch computers, televisions, iPods and jewelry. The entire crime lasts less than 5-minutes. Officers said that the perpetrators were not violent and that they only burglarized vacant homes.

Then came the tipping point.

Late one night during May 2006, a burglar crawled through a dog door at the rear of a house two blocks north of us. The owner of the house, Jennifer, a 32-year old first time homeowner that had moved in one month prior, was asleep in her bed. She awoke to the sound of her dog barking, walked into the hallway of her home and was greeted by six bullets shot from the gun of the burglar.

Miraculously, she survived. Last I heard she was living with her parents in Casa Grande. Jennifer has not been able to garner the strength to walk back into her home since that night. Her Father and a few friends moved her belongings and emptied her house about a month after the crime. The house remains empty with a Realtors For Sale sign stuck in the grass, a slow moving commodity in the battered and bruised Phoenix housing market.

The news today of a landmark United States Supreme Court ruling brought back memories of the terror that gripped our community in 2006.

In the case of The District of Columbia v. Heller, as summarized on Wikipedia, the Supreme Court majority held that The Second Amendment is formed with a prefatory clause, followed by an operative clause. The prefatory clause serves to clarify the operative clause, but neither limits nor expands the scope of the operative clause. Four dissenting justices strongly disagreed, calling the majority reading "strained and unpersuasive." The prefatory clause is similar to a Latin grammatical construction known as an ablative absolute. Proponents argue that the significance of this grammar was understood to the framers who were more schooled in Latin grammar than is common in modern times.

The majority ruling justices are known as Constitutional Constructionists, with Justice Alito standing out as the most glaring example. The dissenters of this ruling are those considered the moderate side of the court and are commonly referred to as Constitutional Interpreters, meaning that they feel the framers of our Constitution had no intent on vernacular absolutes, but rather our courts would be given the heady responsibility of rendering judgement based on societal circumstances relevant to any given era. Justice Breyer leads the benches philosophical charge from this perspective.

Those that know me well are surprised that I agree with the courts decision on this case. Future court rulings that may be impacted being placed aside, this case was a common sense court ruling that, at its core, preserves my individual liberty.

After our home was robbed, my Father-In-Law and I had a discussion of me owning a gun. Since I live in Arizona, I am allowed to purchase a gun and take ownership of it after I complete a criminal background check. I will then be granted a "conceal and carry" permit, however only after I complete a course in gun safety. To me, this all sounds reasonable.

I declined the option of owning a gun and settled on a taser. For me, my personal beliefs would be grossly compromised if I were to ever use a gun on another human being. This is not to say that I wouldn't. If I had one and used it to defend myself or family, I just know I would feel morally compromised and haunted for the rest of my life.

I'm just grateful that I'm afforded the individual liberty to make this decision for myself.

The larger political discussion will be continued with the usual rhetoric concentrated on the easy access and availability to obtain guns that criminals have.

New York Mayor, Michael Bloomberg, said, Today's decision by the Supreme Court upholding those rights will benefit our coalition by finally putting to rest the ideological debates that have for too long obscured an obvious fact: Criminals, who have no right to purchase or possess guns, nevertheless have easy access to them.

I agree.

Chris Cox, a lobbyist (whore) for the National Rifle Association (NRA), called the ruling a monumental decision that will prompt more challenges and more debates.

This has put politicians on notice that this is a fundamental right, Cox said. It can't be rationed. It can't be unduly restricted on the whims of local officials.

I don't see anything "monumental" about this decision. Isolated within proper context, this decision was a slam-dunk for logic and reason alone.

Washington D.C. had a ridiculous law that made it illegal for an individual to own or license a firearm in their homes.

Meanwhile, violent crime in the District did not subside. Criminals still have easy access to guns, while law abiding citizens were left without that option.

Ironically, it's the 2nd amendment humpers at the NRA that routinely ignore common sense for their cause, which may, in theory, give a definitive competitive advantage to criminals.

A reasonable person can ascertain that armor piercing bullets and semi-automatic, military style assault rifles have absolutely no redeeming value to our society and they should be outlawed.

The NRA sees it differently. Their failure to make even the most logical concessions is redundantly shrouded in a ridiculous, "give 'em and inch and they'll take a mile" theoretical hogwash.

For the record, let's revisit the 2nd amendment;

A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.

Hmmm.

Is militia the Latin word for family, or house?

While I agree with the ruling in D.C. v. Heller, I struggle to understand the Constitutional Constructionist majority.

Unless, of course, owning a handgun also means that I have the added responsibility of leading a well regulated militia, which is probably not a good job for me. I can't afford the pay cut.

I like having the option to choose for myself though.

For now, notice is placed that I'm armed with a taser, and I will not hesitate to use it on a criminal to defend myself.

Or, perhaps, it may come in handy to use on an NRA ideologue.

A Parody Of A Caricature Of A Once Noble Man

What appears to be our nations every fourth year right of political passage has emerged once again. Ralph Nader, that crazy, muttering at the breeze sack of dry saliva stuck on the corner of his mouth when he speaks, is back on the campaign trail to run for President.

Insert yawn here.

You may recall that Nader was the guy that single handily, through his spokesman, Egor Runamok, elected George W. Bush as the 43rd President of the United States in 2000, beating the U.S. Supreme Court to the punch by about seven weeks.

Nader is taking Barack Obama to task on his message to voters, suggesting that Obama's rhetoric is nothing more than an appeal to "white guilt".

Irony alert; I wonder if Ralph Nader feels any cause and effect guilt for the past 8 years.

There was a time when Nader was actually a likable soul, arriving on the scene as an advocate for consumer safety in the products that are marketed and sold in our country. His 1965 book, Unsafe At Any Speed, chronicled the American Auto makers resistance to implement basic safety features and their reluctance to invest research and development budgets to improve safety.

To his credit, Nader screamed loud enough to spawn safety improvements that are now standard features on every car sold, like seat belts. Looking back though, his work as a sapper of fun was evident by Nader exposing the dangers of the Corvair coupe. So what if a ten mile per hour rear end impact would make the Corvair become engulfed in flames? It was a sweet lookin' ride.

Back to Ralph Nader the candidate. History, hell bent on repeating itself, is licking its chops over the prospect that this spoiler will wage enough momentum to make himself relevant once again. And as long as Larry King is alive, we can rest assure that the media will insist that relevance prevails.

It's up to the voters to make sure it doesn't.

Handicapping The Electoral College

Okay, I've received a couple emails and text messages giving me grief for not posting yesterday (Monday). Look folks, I've got a job that reports to the man and a life that reports to President (Madam) Fischer. She'll beat my hide six ways to sundown if I idle away on this computer when there are diapers to be changed. So I missed a Monday jotting. Consider me like the theater. I'm dark on Monday.

Moving on.

The Presidential general election is heating up in the United States (note I mention USA, as to give the worldly impression that I have a global subscription base) and we continue to be bombarded with distorted truthiness and outright bullspit from many polarizing angles.

Cable news and hate-radio have sucked the fun out of politics, so I thought I'd share this obnoxiously long link with you.

http://www.usatoday.com/news/politics/election2008/electoral-vote-tracker/flash.htm?friendA=AL,2,9-AK,2,3-AZ,2,10-AR,1,6-CA,1,55-CO,1,9-CT,1,7-DC,1,3-DE,1,3-FL,2,27-GA,2,15-HI,1,4-ID,2,4-IL,1,21-IN,2,11-IA,1,7-KS,2,6-KY,2,8-LA,1,9-ME,1,4-MD,1,10-MA,1,12-MI,1,17-MN,1,10-MS,2,6-MO,1,11-MT,2,3-NE,2,5-NV,1,5-NH,1,4-NJ,1,15-NM,1,5-NY,1,31-NC,2,15-ND,2,3-OH,1,20-OK,2,7-OR,1,7-PA,1,21-RI,1,4-SC,2,8-SD,2,3-TN,2,11-TX,2,34-UT,2,5-VT,1,3-VA,2,13-WA,1,11-WV,2,5-WI,1,10-WY,2,3-

It's an interactive website where you can call the electoral college as a speculator or high stakes gambler.

Note: I've placed current odds at 1/1-gazillion that the District of Columbia will vote Democrat.

It's a pretty straight forward exercise. Simply click each state and make your call. You can save your preferences and share with others.

Note: Current odds are 1/1-gaskillion that Mississippi and Alabama go with the white guy.

I've been playing with this sight for a couple months now and it's not as easy as you might think. Most "polls" reported through the media are broad stroke in nature and aren't isolated on individual states, which renders them pretty meaningless. After all, state electorates choose our President, by constitutional declaration. Somebody please inform James Dobson of that fact.

Note: Odds are 1/1-bajillion that the student faculty lounge will carry Obama.

Turn off the commentary, watch both conventions this summer and listen to the debates. The puppets on cable news and yakkers on the radio are one dimensional in telling us what we think.

Let's take our minds back.

Enjoy.

No Problem

For the life of me I can't recall that precise moment in the retail customer experience where being told "thank you" suddenly turned into, "no problem". Worse yet, "no problem" has now morphed into, "no worries".

It's an odd feeling to throw down $3.00 for a latte and then say thank you to the Starbucks employee, only to get a "no problem" or "no worries" in return. Really? Ar ya' sure it was no problem? Whew!

Thank goodness my money isn't causing problems at Starbucks. Maybe if I start paying for my coffee in Euro I'll hear a thank you.

Diapers and Depends - My Saturday Target Run

A few weeks ago I commented to a friend of mine that if you want to feel really, really old and extremely young, all in the same breath, try being a new pappy at nearly 42-years-old.

I took Baby Fischer to Target with me today, arriving at the crack of 8:03, only to stand outside the door until the redshirts unlocked the doors to greet us at 8:05, a full five minutes behind schedule. Normally I wouldn't complain too loudly, however the temperature outside was already 81-degrees and I had little patience for poor customer service so early in the morning. I'll save that for my next airline flight.

We went to Target because we needed diapers, although truth be told I wanted to give Mrs. Fischer a quiet break and enjoy some solid time with the little dude. It was like catching lightning in a bottle.

Saturday morning meant that my Blackberry was resting and my job was far from my mind. I actually felt relaxed for the first time in several weeks (months?).

I told baby Fischer about his brothers baseball game back in Minnesota, and how he caught a high fly ball hit by "Home Run Sam" (the Babe Ruth of the Plymouth/Wayzata youth baseball league), went 2-for-3 and knocked in a pair of runs in his teams victory last Sunday.

Baby Fischer smiled.

I then told him that his sister completed grade 7 with straight A's and finished her school year by being named "Student of the Month" for May. Also, she was going to be leaving town soon to visit family and friends in Minnesota and Maine, so we wouldn't be seeing her much until early August. I'm really going to miss her.

Baby Fischer smiled again.

My phone rang and the caller i.d. told me that it was my mother-in-law, which is one call that I, by strict rule, never ignore. She was unable to reach my wife so she called me to inform me that her mother-in-law had died early this morning. I expressed my condolences and hung up the phone.

Baby Fischer was still smiling.

I turned down the isle that stocked health care products for the elderly and noticed a large pack of Depends (adult diapers), placed conveniently at eye level. For fear of sounding mellow-dramatic, I will attempt to understate the brief moment of perfect introspection I enjoyed right then about family, friends, love, faith, life, death and the absolute spirited resiliency of our human soul. I am so grateful for it all.

Okay, that was really mellow-dramatic after all. My apologies.

Baby Fischer smiled the whole time.

And now, so do I.

Cable News Has Hijacked The Question Mark

Television Journalism used to be such a cool, noble and respected industry. Guy's like Cronkite, Brinkley, Murrow and Reasoner would deliver the news with the adequate urgency that a news story would require, usually with a lit Chesterfield idling in an ashtray that rested within arms reach on the news desk. The Nightly News was considered gospel and American families took pause during the dinner hour each evening to be informed on crucial national and world events.

Then along came 24-hour Cable News, and with it an entire profession has been dragged through the gutter.

I suppose I can accept that an urgent, "news bulletin" isn't reserved exclusively to report on events such as an assassination of a world leader, as it did when I was a kid. These days we're probably more likely to see the words "news bulletin" in a scrawl crawl at the bottom of the screen reporting that Lindsey Lohan has entered rehab. Ten minutes later the news helicopter will hover over Malibu hoping for glimpse and an entire evenings news coverage has been set.

The real issue I take with cable news is their egregious abuse of the question mark, one keystroke of punctuation placed at the end of a headline, intended to either plant a seed of doubt or deliver an overt slant towards ridiculously stated truthiness.

There is ample evidence that Fox News started this question mark epidemic several years ago (insert Neil Cavuto here), however CNN, MSNBC and similar ilk have all followed suit.

As an example, Fox News has delivered these headlines during the past few years;

• LIBERAL MEDIA HELPING TO FUEL TERROR?
• DEMOCRATS FORGOTTEN THE LESSONS OF 9/11?
• MEDIA PREACHING HATE IN THE MIDEAST?

Lose the question marks and let's see what we have;

• LIBERAL MEDIA HELPING TO FUEL TERROR
• DEMOCRATS FORGOTTEN THE LESSONS OF 9/11
• MEDIA PREACHING HATE IN THE MIDEAST

Ugh.

No question mark and you have lazy journalism and slander. Give it a question mark and, hey, we were just posing a question, right?

You see, I realize it wouldn't be ethical or honest for me to type this slanderous headline;

• BILL O'REILLY HAS IMAGES OF CHILD PORN ON HIS PERSONAL COMPUTER

However, if I were to add a question mark, it would then be legitimate news discussion;

• BILL O'REILLY HAS IMAGES OF CHILD PORN ON HIS PERSONAL COMPUTER?

Good grief.

Tim Russert, you are sadly missed.

Daily Irony; Al Franken, The Senate and Satire

The great state of Minnesota boasts an organized Democratic Party that calls themselves the Democratic Farmer and Labor Party, or DFL for short. Its candidates throughout the years have delivered several prominent political names to the national electorate. Hubert Humphrey, Eugene McCarthy and Walter Mondale all used their Minnesota Senate seat to create political momentum to campaign for President of the United States, each one ending with a resounding thud. And thud is putting it mildly.

So when Minnesota Democrats got together a few weeks ago at the DFL state convention to nominate a candidate that would test and potentially unseat the venerable and vulnerable Republican incumbent, Norm Coleman, one would think that this once mighty powerhouse would have a stellar, dynamic and polished array of candidates to choose from.

Then along came Stuart Smalley. He’s good enough, smart enough, and – according to a recent poll - doggonit, 47% of Minnesota voters like him.

Al Franken; comedian, writer, satirist, intellectually superior, brilliant and humble (the last three attributes lifted directly from his resume) wordsmith has now entered into a vigorously full-throttle campaign to win Coleman’s Senate seat, a job that Coleman himself slid into with dramatically tragic serendipity in 2002, when incumbent Senator Paul Wellstone died in an airplane crash two weeks before the election. Coleman ended up coasting to victory over the barely dusted off Democratic pinch-hitter Walter Mondale, rendering Mondale a nostalgic relic that is best kept in the annals of sentimentality.

Al Franken has been forced to scramble on the defensive of late, and endure a barrage of opposition attacks and scrutiny over several of his writings during his years of comedic work. Franken initially insisted that he was simply performing his job as a comedian and satirist, as if to dismiss the controversy as simply a joke. After all, it’s just satire. Indeed, it is.

Al Franken may be the ideal candidate for the job of United States Senator.

Sadly, politicians reduced themselves to satire long ago. Congress is dripping with very real character defects that are ripe for satirical commentary. We have Idaho Senator Larry Craig and his bathroom stall toe-tapping, “I’m not gay, nor have I ever been gay” episode. Louisiana Congressman William Jefferson taking bribes (allegedly) in large bills stashed in his kitchen freezer. Former Florida Congressman Mark Foley sponsored key legislation that made our laws tougher on child sex predators, only to be shamed out of his job by the revelation that he was a predator himself. Louisiana Senator David Vitter, a leading Christian Conservative, was found to have carried on a rather unsavory tryst with a prostitute that lasted for nearly a year. To clarify and save his street cred with conservatives though, it’s worth noting that Vitter chose a female prostitute. I think Dr. James Dobson calls that a “mulligan”, punctuated with a wink and a nod. And finally, we have former Prosecutor and New York Governor, Elliot Spitzer, all neatly packaged in a trifecta of hypocrisy, shame and irony. Still don’t know whether to laugh or cry over that one.

Back in Minnesota, let’s hope that current and pending attacks on Al Franken are for his ideas for Minnesotans and not for his work as a satirist. His job of lampooning public figures was made all too easy by the arsenal of material he was spoon-fed by the very body he wishes to be elected to.

California Is So Gay!

Left Coast Weddings are about to get Divalicious. The State Supreme Court of California has rendered judgement on same-sex unions and it appears that individual liberty is alive and well in California. I imagine that Raymond Burr, Rock Hudson, Merv Griffin and Liberace are all smiling in that great bath house in the sky.

My Catholic upbringing has faithfully and repetitively taught me to believe that the institution of marriage is a sacred religious sacrament that can only be entered into by a man and woman, for the sole purpose of procreation. Hey, that's cool with me. After all, it takes a pen dipped in ink to write the word baby. The last thing I'm going to do is question Father McGillicutty and end up rotting in hell for eternity. Lord knows there are a few other reasons why I'll end up there anyway. However, as an American that has at least two USA flag lapel pins (both made in China), the larger question is why our secular constitution has even allowed "marriage" for so long. I wonder if I'm the only person that finds this curiously hypocritical. How about states simply issuing Civil Union Certificates and have each Civil Union voluntarily petition their (if any) faith of worship for marriage approval. Sans those progressively pesky Episcopalians, they will likely be denied. Then, perhaps we can finally settle on the notion that "values" is a subjective term, conveniently bandied about from all sides of the political spectrum in a manner that only divides.

Could Civil Unions bring defacto unity?

A couple of years ago I was out one night with some friends at a club and witnessed two young hotties tongue wrestling each other while standing near the bar. Nice. Now if those two young ladies want to get married and be my next door neighbor, then cue up Elton John and let the wedding bells chime. Maybe we could get the Bravo Channel to sponsor it.