VIVA CARSON CITY

So I've been away for the past two weeks or so, hanging out in the lovely state of Nevada. As AFSCME is wont to do, I was sent there to help out with the Presidential Candidate Forum we held in Carson City with ABC on February 21st.

It was a blast and I had an amazing time with some fabulous co-workers. We had a small amount of time, but kicked ass and took names. That's how we roll.

As you may have already seen, my pick for the ticket has dropped. Governor Vilsack, we will miss you.

So here's my thoughts for my most recent journeys and such:

1. George Stephanopoulos is just slightly taller than me.
2. Us Democrats have some decent choices this time around. I'm especially impressed by the not-so-big names in the race. Senators Dodd and Biden have some really interesting points and Congressman Kucinich is still on the ball.
3. Speaking of Congressman Kucinich, check out the video and see where he almost twirls off stage. He was pretty impressive up until that point. Sigh.
4. How did I manage to become the timer for the candidates and Stephanopoulos? Some dude from C-Span came over before the forum went live and checked out the program I was working on and went, "Great. We're all going off of you today. Don't screw up." Can you say pressure? On live TV?
5. Senator Gravel takes his time when he eats a turkey sandwich.
6. It's Nev-AHH-duh, not Nev-AA-duh. The Nevadans let Stephanopoulos have it.
7. Guess how long it took me to finally spell Stephanopoulos correctly?
8. Taking Southwest Airlines is like being picked for teams in gym class. You hope to hell that if you check in early enough that you won't be relegated to line C.
9. Nevada is nice, but I don't know how I feel about going to a supermarket where I can get medicine, short ribs, and gamble away my savings in one place.
10. Again, why do people bring babies into bars? At 11pm? PST?
11. Hillary Clinton is a celebrity. I've never seen people meeting candidates and crying after shaking their hand. Watch out for this one, folks. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I don't care what you think of her. People heart her like crazy. I'm putting the naysayers on notice.
    
12. If you're the only game in town, you can expect a heavy police presence. I saw more cops at that forum than NYC cops on New Year's in Times Square. Sheesh.
13. Reno and Carson City casinos are Las Vegas and Atlantic City casinos circa 1978-1982. It was like walking into Liberace's underpants going into some of those casinos.
14. Nevada is also very dry. I'm sure you might have guessed that. I had to buy stock in lotion and face cream.
15. Missing the huge snowstorms in the Northeast has it's advantages. Except when you are flying back in the middle of one or between noreasters. And moving out of a storage space in Delaware in the space of two days and have to get back to Albany to go back to Reno.
    
16. Senator Biden and Governor Richardson are much, MUCH taller in real life.
17. Why are buffets so craptastic but sound so good? It's like sequels. They look so appealing but after you watch one, you are all, "Eh. What next?"
18. The boy gets major points for remembering Valentine's Day. Especially when I'm on the other side of the country. He rocks.
    
19. Dealing with different time zones sucks balls.
20. I've never dealt with so many surly waitresses in my life. I always tip well (ever the drama major remembering my buddies) but holy crap. I never thought so many of them could be in one place.
21. I did screw up the time during the forum. Once. No one told me that when you re-set the timer, you can only put in minutes, not seconds. And Vilsack paused long enough for us to think he was done with his question. In all honesty, it didn't take long at all to fix the problem, but I was worried Stephanopoulos might hit me on the top of the head when he came back during the potty break.
22. Jessica is a rock star.
23. The whole ground team kicked ass.
24. Anyone who thinks that the Hillary bust ain't real needs to check her out in person.
25. Anytime the AFSCME staff gets together, there's always fun. Along with plenty of good-old fashioned trouble.
26. We made friends with the 70-year old drummer that plays with the band at the Grand Sierra Resort. We call him Bud. Bud rocks. Hardcore. The whole band is great. Even when the Susanna Hoffs lead singer lookalike tries out a Selena outfit while singing Pink.
27. Not too many mullets in Nevada, but lots and lots of cha-cha bunnies. Hi, the 80's called. They want their bangs back, ladies.
28. I'm in a lot less pain when my spine is where it's supposed to be. I heart chiropractors.
29. After working on something so exciting, it takes a little more energy to get back into the swing of things.
30. And finally, is it really only February? 2007? What the hell?!

This Presidential election cycle is slowly going to kill all of us for the next two years. And we were silly enough to think it would only heat up next year...

Till the next transmission.

A DEPART FROM THE FUNNY...

To something more serious. I think Volansky does a quite good job on detailing Dubya's SOTU speech, so there's really no need for me to assist other than to say his most recent one is really no departure from the previous 6. The most exciting part of the night was the declaration for "Madam Speaker" and that was about it.

But in light of Delaware Senator Joe Biden's foot-in-mouth-moment, check out this interesting tidbit I just found out about:



While we examine the actions of Joe Biden and Mel Gibson and Isiah Washington - even Rosie O'Donnell's recent take on Asians - I'm forced to ask once again: Has much really changed?

THE MOST ENTERTAINING WEB SITE EVER

So Anica found this site and I had to play around. For the record, Chris says about his first picture: "Ewwwwwwww..."

A MID-WINTER CLEANING

I'm in the process of cleaning out my iBook to give to my mother and came across some really funny and hilarious things that are simply worth sharing. I realize that I have not been doing a usual blog and have instead been posting things that catch my fancy, but frankly, I just don't feel like I'm enough of a rockstar to bore you with the oh-so-not-fascinating minutia of my life at the moment. Perhaps soon. Perhaps I will enchant you with the story of how Governor Spitzer held my shoulder for three minutes. That might be worth it. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, enjoy this. It makes me laugh. Hysterically. I'll add more gems as I find them. Enjoy.

______________________

Remember the book "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus"? Here's a prime example offered by an English professor at an American University.

"Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO TALKING and anything you wish to say must be written on the paper. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of my English students Rebecca (last name deleted) and Gary (last name deleted):
-----------------------------------------------------------
(first paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.
-----------------------------------------------------------
(second paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17,???*?? he said into his transgalactic communicator. " Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
----------------------------------------------------------
(Rebecca)
He bumped his head and died almost immediately but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things round her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.
---------------------------------------------------------
(Gary)
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret Mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid, Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"
----------------------------------------------------------
(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.
----------------------------------------------------------
(Gary)
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of TEA??? Oh no, I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels."
----------------------------------------------------------
(Rebecca)
Asshole.
----------------------------------------------------------
(Gary)
Bitch.
--------------------------------------------------------
(Rebecca)
JACKASS.
---------------------------------------------------------
(Gary)
Slut.
---------------------------------------------------------
(Rebecca)
Get f*cked.
----------------------------------------------------------
(Gary)
Eat sh*t!
---------------------------------------------------------
(Rebecca)
SCREW YOU - YOU NEANDERTHAL!!!
----------------------------------------------------------
(Gary)
Go drink some tea.
**********************************************
(teacher)
A+ - I really liked this one.

AMATEUR

Thanks to Mai and her unicorn, I enjoyed this greatly and I hope you will, too...

MISSING IN ACTION

I know I've been neglectful, but that has more to do with the fact that since Thanksgiving, I have travelled up and down the Northeast several times. We moved out of our family home in Delaware (that was a mindscrew) and I was in DC and NYC back and forth for work, so I'm finally getting a moment to get back to things. Of course, I leave again for X-mas and the first week of January is already filling up (why does Day One in New York start on New Year's Day? Who does that?) so it looks like I shall be very busy, indeed.

In the meantime, this is quite possibly one of the funniest things I've seen in a while. Enjoy.

Oh, and Happy Holidays! (yes, I still use the greeting because not everyone celebrates Christmas, Walmart)

*ACTUAL ENGLISH SUBTITLES USED IN FILMS MADE IN HONG KONG*

1. I am damn unsatisfied to be killed in this way.

2. Fatty, you with your thick face have hurt my instep.

3. Gun wounds again?

4. Same old rules: no eyes, no groin.

5. A normal person wouldn't steal pituitaries.

6. Damn, I'll burn you into a BBQ chicken!

7. Take my advice, or I'll spank you without pants.

8. Who gave you the nerve to get killed here?

9. Quiet or I'll blow your throat up.

10. You always use violence. I should've ordered glutinous rice chicken.

11. I'll fire aimlessly if you don't come out!

12. You daring lousy guy.

13. Beat him out of recognizable shape!

14. I have been scared shitless too much lately.

15. I got knife scars more than the number of your leg's hair!

16. Beware! Your bones are going to be disconnected.

17. The bullets inside are very hot. Why do I feel so cold?

18. How can you use my intestines as a gift?

19. This will be of fine service for you, you bag of the scum. I am sure you will not mind that I remove your manhoods and leave them out on the dessert flour for your aunts to eat. [sic, of course]

20. Yah-hah, evil spider woman! I have captured you by the short rabbits and can now deliver you violently to your gynecologist for a thorough examination.

21. Greetings, large black person. Let us not forget to form a team up together and go into the country to inflict the pain of our karate feets on some ass of the giant lizard person.

Phew.

So I know it's been a while. And I know I was silent after the election. That has more to do with my schedule and trying to move out of the Delaware house, which is a whole other bag of worms.

I will say that after 12 years, it's nice to finally remember what it feels like to win on Election Day. And here in New York, it's a nice change from 4 years before when I was crying in my beer.

You may call me cynical, but what I said before the election matters more now than it did before: It's not enough to win, it's about what you do with it that counts. So the clock is ticking and from what I've seen so far, I have reason to believe that we're back on a good track. Thank God. It's been too long in the darkness, my friends.

And anyone who thinks that the Presidential is two years away has to think again. That campaign began November 8th, 2006. And I will once again do what I did in 2002 - peg a candidate that I think will make it somewhere on the ticket. When I was working on the McCall campaign, one of the managers asked us a hypothetical: If the Democratic Presidential nominees were Edwards, Kerry, Dean, Gephardt, or Gore - whom would we work for/which one would win the nomination?

I would like to state for the record that I was one of two to pick Kerry. And my original hunch was correct.

So put some money down, kids. I'm changing the question slightly, but let's ask the same question.

If the Democratic Presidential nominees were Clinton, Obama, Vilsack, Bayh, and Biden, which one is likely to be on the ticket?

My answer is Tom Vilsack. Where on the ticket, I can't be so sure. Unlike 2004, we have a rare Presidential election coming up where neither the President is running for re-election and a Vice-President is running for the big office. That being said, the demographics of the electorate are too difficult to make a really accurate prediction and the last election confused the map.

And I would never underestimate the Junior Senator from New York. I love her to death, and despite what everyone else says about her chances, I would never underestimate that woman. She's proven she can beat the naysayers. And that is also more reason for me to heart her. That's not an endorsement, just the truth.

What I do know is that Tom Vilsack has an incredible story, he was a popular governor of Iowa, a moderate, and could carry the Midwest. So I'm pegging half a horse on him to make it on the ticket, no matter where on the ticket he ends up. He would turn some of those red states blue - and that would be a good number of electoral votes that flip the other way.

So look out for him. Don't discount him. And don't be silly to discount either Obama or Clinton, either. And I'm comfortable saying that I don't think both of them would be on the same ticket - for fairly obvious and sad reasons.

So let's hear it, folks. Anyone dare to make predictions?

A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

I take a break to crawl out from the millions of maps that have made me cross-eyed to bring to you a special public service announcement in several parts:

1. After a whole day of travelling on planes for two ten-minute meetings on Long Island that routed me from Albany to Boston to Long Island and then from Long Island to Philly back to Albany (because that makes sense), I don't give a flying damn if your plane was delayed. Don't whine to me. I've gotta get to the gate before my next plane boards.

2. Subsequently, if an entire Judo team is returning from a tournament and the team consists of mostly high school/college age kids who have nothing better to do than yell, scream, and try to rub up against each other, I should be allowed to move seats. Especially if it's the last leg of my journey.

3. In the Bill Maher tradition - a NEW RULE: Air-buses or Air-rickshaws, as I have dubbed them, need to go. If there's only one row of seats separated by an aisle and then another row of seats, no one should be flying in it. I don't care if you feel like a rock star because you have to step down a flight of stairs and walk on the tarmac to get to the plane, they're just wrong. Any plane where the Navigator/Co-Pilot is also the Stewardess should be outlawed. As a union representative, unless they're getting paid to do both jobs, then away they should go. Give me a bigger plane that doesn't rock in the air like I was on a tilt-a-whirl or the Pirateship - anyone who has been to an amusement park knows what I mean.

4. Do not, I repeat, do NOT allow white kids to cornrow their hair. I don't care if you think you're cool. Especially the half skull cornrow - where it's done from the front of the scalp to halfway and then stops like someone got tired of doing it. I saw two little girls, sisters, with cornrows in their hair like that and it was just wrong. If you're a parent, you should be outlawed or blacklisted. It's like allowing your kid to have a mullet because you think it's cute. I have news for you: it didn't look cool when Justin Timberlake did it when he was in N'Sync. Kevin Federline is... well, if you don't already know that he sucks, then allow us to cattleprod you. Frankly, you just don't have the hair to make it look good.

and finally:

5. If you are over 50, it's not cool to have "Orange County Choppers" stickers all over your car so no one can see the Yankee bobbleheads and assorted stuffed animals you've deliberately placed in the back window. I'm a huge Yankee fan and those bobbleheads belong on a shelf in your house and/or office. And gluing action figures to the dash is also a big no-no. Not only is it distracting, it gives off the impression that you're down with having your car look like you're still in high school. You're over 50. Enjoy the Social Security those of us still working are paying you.

Someone's riding the bitter train.

...and back to the maps.

Remember, the more you know...

SOMEONE'S PULLING MY LEGS...

And undoubtedly, they need it, given that I'm as tall as a Smurf.

But if I even remotely resemble any of these people given my facial structure, then suh-weet.



Yeah, right.

WHY I SOMETIMES FEAR FOR MY PEOPLE...

It turns out that not only Chinese boys are bored. The boys in the Philippines have nothing to do, either:



The best part about the video is that they are in a cybercafe-type place. In the Philippines, you can find them on every corner. My question is, where are the people that work there?

If you go to YouTube, you'll find a whole collection of really bored Filipino boys. It must be the new thing to do for schoolboys on their afternoon breaks.

Sigh. Lea Salonga is still our claim to fame. It's hard not to see why.

PATRIOTIC

On September 10th, I found myself locked on Murray Street between Broadway and West Broadway, sandwiched between cars just trying to move but sitting idle because we had been directed and then blocked by the police. It turns out President Doucheb... er, Bush... was giving some sort of speech at Ground Zero. Bunches of people were walking up Murray, turned away from Ground Zero because of the President. Many of them were not only annoyed, but pissed.

New York is not the city to piss off near September 11th.

Especially when it involves President Bush. We just don't like him like the rabid red states do.

Those of us stuck sort of commiserated together. What else could we do? None of us liked the president, but it wasn't like we were going anywhere. Our comments were funny and nasty at the same time, "Oh, we'll just be here until his photo op is over." Or, "Yeah, it's close to mid-terms, isn't it?" I love New Yorkers. They know what's going on even if they don't read the paper everyday. And in times of annoyance, we can chat with each other like old friends.

After convincing the campaign I was working on that I was certain I wasn't going to be going anywhere, we noticed the President's motorcade going south in front of us. Fifteen minutes later, they were going north behind us. And we were still stuck. Um, the big hole in the ground is over there. I can point to it - it's only a few blocks away. You'd think that after all his talk and swagger over Ground Zero that they might have a small idea of where it is and how to get there. ESPECIALLY since they cleared the streets for him to go. I'm just saying...

Forty minutes later, we moved. And I'm still pissed.

IN the meantime, here is something amazing: a reporter who finally told it like it is. And to thank him, I'm sharing. He's said what I've been wanting to say. Enjoy. (And just FYI, the picture is one I took the evening of September 11, 2006 driving back to the hotel. I love those lights.)

The Nation -- Keith Olbermann is without a doubt the best news anchor on television today. Two weeks ago, echoing the spirit of the legendary Edward R. Murrow, Olbermann took Donald Rumsfeld to task for comparing critics of the Iraq war to Nazi appeasers. Tonight, broadcasting live from above a desolate and still demolished Ground Zero, Olbermann delivered a stirring eight minute commentary indicting the Bush Administration's shameful and tragic response to 9/11. The entire speech is worth watching and reading, so I'm posting the full text below.

Half a lifetime ago, I worked in this now-empty space. And for 40 days after the attacks, I worked here again, trying to make sense of what happened, and was yet to happen, as a reporter.

All the time, I knew that the very air I breathed contained the remains of thousands of people, including four of my friends, two in the planes and -- as I discovered from those "missing posters" seared still into my soul -- two more in the Towers.

And I knew too, that this was the pyre for hundreds of New York policemen and firemen, of whom my family can claim half a dozen or more, as our ancestors.

I belabor this to emphasize that, for me this was, and is, and always shall be, personal.

And anyone who claims that I and others like me are "soft,"or have "forgotten" the lessons of what happened here is at best a grasping, opportunistic, dilettante and at worst, an idiot whether he is a commentator, or a Vice President, or a President.

However, of all the things those of us who were here five years ago could have forecast -- of all the nightmares that unfolded before our eyes, and the others that unfolded only in our minds -- none of us could have predicted this.

Five years later this space is still empty.

Five years later there is no memorial to the dead.

Five years later there is no building rising to show with proud defiance that we would not have our America wrung from us, by cowards and criminals.

Five years later this country's wound is still open.

Five years later this country's mass grave is still unmarked.

Five years later this is still just a background for a photo-op.

It is beyond shameful.

At the dedication of the Gettysburg Memorial -- barely four months after the last soldier staggered from another Pennsylvania field -- Mr. Lincoln said, "we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract."

Lincoln used those words to immortalize their sacrifice.

Today our leaders could use those same words to rationalize their reprehensible inaction. "We cannot dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground." So we won't.

Instead they bicker and buck pass. They thwart private efforts, and jostle to claim credit for initiatives that go nowhere. They spend the money on irrelevant wars, and elaborate self-congratulations, and buying off columnists to write how good a job they're doing instead of doing any job at all.

Five years later, Mr. Bush, we are still fighting the terrorists on these streets. And look carefully, sir, on these 16 empty acres. The terrorists are clearly, still winning.

And, in a crime against every victim here and every patriotic sentiment you mouthed but did not enact, you have done nothing about it.

And there is something worse still than this vast gaping hole in this city, and in the fabric of our nation. There is its symbolism of the promise unfulfilled, the urgent oath, reduced to lazy execution.

The only positive on 9/11 and the days and weeks that so slowly and painfully followed it was the unanimous humanity, here, and throughout the country. The government, the President in particular, was given every possible measure of support.

Those who did not belong to his party -- tabled that.

Those who doubted the mechanics of his election -- ignored that.

Those who wondered of his qualifications -- forgot that.

History teaches us that nearly unanimous support of a government cannot be taken away from that government by its critics. It can only be squandered by those who use it not to heal a nation's wounds, but to take political advantage.

Terrorists did not come and steal our newly-regained sense of being American first, and political, fiftieth. Nor did the Democrats. Nor did the media. Nor did the people.

The President -- and those around him -- did that.

They promised bi-partisanship, and then showed that to them, "bi-partisanship" meant that their party would rule and the rest would have to follow, or be branded, with ever-escalating hysteria, as morally or intellectually confused, as appeasers, as those who, in the Vice President's words yesterday, "validate the strategy of the terrorists."

They promised protection, and then showed that to them "protection" meant going to war against a despot whose hand they had once shaken, a despot who we now learn from our own Senate Intelligence Committee, hated al-Qaida as much as we did.

The polite phrase for how so many of us were duped into supporting a war, on the false premise that it had 'something to do' with 9/11 is "lying by implication."

The impolite phrase is "impeachable offense."

Not once in now five years has this President ever offered to assume responsibility for the failures that led to this empty space, and to this, the current, curdled, version of our beloved country.

Still, there is a last snapping flame from a final candle of respect and fairness: even his most virulent critics have never suggested he alone bears the full brunt of the blame for 9/11.

Half the time, in fact, this President has been so gently treated, that he has seemed not even to be the man most responsible for anything in his own administration.

Yet what is happening this very night?

A mini-series, created, influenced -- possibly financed by -- the most radical and cold of domestic political Machiavellis, continues to be televised into our homes.

The documented truths of the last fifteen years are replaced by bald-faced lies; the talking points of the current regime parroted; the whole sorry story blurred, by spin, to make the party out of office seem vacillating and impotent, and the party in office, seem like the only option.

How dare you, Mr. President, after taking cynical advantage of the unanimity and love, and transmuting it into fraudulent war and needless death, after monstrously transforming it into fear and suspicion and turning that fear into the campaign slogan of three elections? How dare you -- or those around you -- ever "spin" 9/11?

Just as the terrorists have succeeded -- are still succeeding -- as long as there is no memorial and no construction here at Ground Zero.

So, too, have they succeeded, and are still succeeding as long as this government uses 9/11 as a wedge to pit Americans against Americans.

This is an odd point to cite a television program, especially one from March of 1960. But as Disney's continuing sell-out of the truth (and this country) suggests, even television programs can be powerful things.

And long ago, a series called "The Twilight Zone" broadcast a riveting episode entitled "The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street."

In brief: a meteor sparks rumors of an invasion by extra-terrestrials disguised as humans. The electricity goes out. A neighbor pleads for calm. Suddenly his car -- and only his car -- starts. Someone suggests he must be the alien. Then another man's lights go on. As charges and suspicion and panic overtake the street, guns are inevitably produced. An "alien" is shot -- but he turns out to be just another neighbor, returning from going for help. The camera pulls back to a near-by hill, where two extra-terrestrials are seen manipulating a small device that can jam electricity. The veteran tells his novice that there's no need to actually attack, that you just turn off a few of the human machines and then, "they pick the most dangerous enemy they can find, and it's themselves."

And then, in perhaps his finest piece of writing, Rod Serling sums it up with words of remarkable prescience, given where we find ourselves tonight: "The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices, to be found only in the minds of men.

"For the record, prejudices can kill and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all its own -- for the children, and the children yet unborn."

When those who dissent are told time and time again -- as we will be, if not tonight by the President, then tomorrow by his portable public chorus -- that he is preserving our freedom, but that if we use any of it, we are somehow un-American...When we are scolded, that if we merely question, we have "forgotten the lessons of 9/11"... look into this empty space behind me and the bi-partisanship upon which this administration also did not build, and tell me:

Who has left this hole in the ground?

We have not forgotten, Mr. President.

You have.

May this country forgive you.

HONESTLY?

Drink the koolaid. Drink it! I'm just gonna let this one speak for itself.

This just in from CNN:

Still, some Southern women remain stalwart supporters of the president and the Republican Party. At a watermelon festival in Chickamauga, in the mountains of northwest Georgia, substitute teacher Clydeen Tomanio said she remains committed to the party she's called home for 43 years.

"There are some people, and I'm one of them, that believe George Bush was placed where he is by the Lord," Tomanio said. "I don't care how he governs, I will support him. I'm a Republican through and through."

FUN ON A PLANE

So I just returned from the motherland, The Land of Pleasant Smiles, the Philippines.

Or as I call it, the Land of Brown.

While I have many pictures and stories to tell, here's a gem:

My mom and I are in the exit row of the plane on the 17 hour leg of the journey (yes, seventeen hours - on the way to the Philippines, it's eighteen) and sometime in the middle of it, I wake up out of a sound nap to discover a long line waiting to use the bathroom. Two woman are standing and opposite of them is a mother and her little child. I notice the little child is doing the pee-pee dance, holding himself. It's pretty obvious he has to go pretty bad.

I decide to watch to see if one of the women will let him go before them. I look over at my mom and notice she's watching, too.

Then she bemusedly says to me when she notices me looking at her, "Yeah, but the funny thing is, no one is in the bathroom."

And I look up to see that the "Occupied" light is not on. And they all continue to wait in line.

No, we weren't jerks. As soon as I noticed this and had a bit of a laugh, one of the ladies seemed to lose patience and pushed the door slightly, realized it was empty, and let the little boy go in.

You gotta laugh when you can on a 17 hour flight.

P to the S: Kudos to Mai-chan who actually offered up a suggestion to my Snakes on a Plane challenge. I'm still taking applications.

DAMN, IF IT'S THAT EASY...

Then I'm quitting my job. On the eve of my departure from the states to the homeland (that would be the Philippines for those of you not paying attention), I choose to rant about something that I find completely, utterly - even fascinatingly (that's a word, dammit) - ridiculous.

Of course, I am speaking of Snakes on a Plane. Have you heard of this movie? Snakes on a Plane. Guess what it's about? Snakes.

On a Plane.

Ga?

We Americans really must have dumbed down a lot to deserve a movie title like that. The boy insists that it must have been the working title of the screenplay that got leaked and such a buzz was created that they had to keep the name. But come on, snakes on a plane?

What I'm saying is that if something as ridiculous as Snakes on a Plane actually makes some money, then I'm quitting my job and writing stupid movie plots, too. Just imagine.

"This summer... you might have only seen it in your dreams: Chickens in a Car."

or...

"Come and see what everyone's talking about: Hamsters on a Steamboat."

and...

"Don't walk. Run to be the first to see Monkeys in my Pants."

I'm gonna make a fortune.

This is fun! Who else can come up with movie titles and marketing catch phrases on the Snakes on a Plane theme? I know all four of you who read this are highly intellegent, witty individuals. So give. And share your brilliance with the world. Or the other three subscribers.

I feel like I'm selling myself short. The other four subscibers.

In the meantime, I'm off on a sabbatical for a spell. But keep checking back - there's a possibility I'll come at you from a far-off destination. Assuming I can kick those little f*ckers from their networked games at the cybercafe. Not an easy feat, I promise you.

Until then, take care of yourselves. And others. By doing lots of shots. Lots.

UM, LOOK BEHIND YOU...

So the boy and I were leaving an end-of-the-softball-season drink at our sponsor's establishment, Washington Tavern, late last week when on the drive home, we passed three suspicious persons lolligagging behind parked cars on the way home. In one of their hands was a baseball bat and they were waiting for the cars to pass.

There was no one behind us, so as soon as we passed, they spread out into the street and resumed their game of street baseball. At 1am.

I should mention that less then thirty feet behind them to our right was a softball field. No one was playing on it. If you had a choice, would you play in the street or on the field? I mean, am I the only one who finds this slightly odd?

Hmmmm... Albany.

WHY ON EARTH ARE WE SURPRISED?

Any self-respecting fag hag could tell you. Hell, I knew from the minute I saw him that my gaydar, honed over years and years of collecting gay men like shoes, went off like fireworks. In fact, I think the reading was: "Gayer than Liberace's Underpants".

The thing is, who cares? And his bandmates are supportive, though it's for their sakes he kept in the closet. It is interesting to find out that Joey Fatone found out when walking in on him and his first boyfriend, though...

Now if Lance Bass would just take the time, go back into the closet, through the underground railroad, grab Clay Aiken's hand and a host of other closeted gay boys I can think of and lead them to the light, that would be a news-worthy accomplishment.

THE TIME HAS COME...

For a rant.

This is a plea for all those drivers out there. If you decide to go the speed limit or just slightly above, that's fine. Just stay in the right hand lane.

It's just that simple. Because the left lane is the passing lane. If there's a car behind you, looking like it's ready to ram you in half, you might want to think about travelling in the right hand lane when you get a free pass. Because you're driving all those people in a hurry absolutely crazy.

I'm serious. I just spent the better part of four hours getting back to Albany from NYC and I'm pissed off as hell at those left lane ho-hum-not-paying-attention-look-at-the-pretty-scenery-so-I'm-going-to-slow-down-drivers.

Please. For everyone's sanity. Consider it an act of random kindness. We'll thank you.

UM, DIDN'T THEY GET THE MEMO?

Frankly, I'm a little disturbed.

So I just took my mother to see The DaVinci Code as a present for taking such good care of me this past week following my tonsilectomy.

P.S. - trying to do absolutely nothing for a week is maddening so the minute I felt better, I took advantage. Recovery is hard. Seriously. Try sitting through that movie for the second time, I know you won't!

Right.

So it's not the movie that disturbs me (surprisingly) but after the movie, I found I had to use the ladies' room. I suppose that not being able to really eat for a week except for liquid for the most part will do that to you. That was probably more information that you needed to know for the purposes of this story. So...

Here's what disturbed me:

In the bathroom, not one, not two, but three ladies walked out of the stall, passed the sink and walked right out.

Um.

Didn't ladies stop just walking out of the bathroom without washing their hands in the early 90's? I want to say it was pooh-poohed pretty loudly when I was growing up - and when you live with an infection control nurse for the better part of your life, you wash your hands every five seconds and notice when others don't.

Am I the only one taken aback by this? One, that happens. Two, that's a coincidence. Three? That's just wrong. Didn't these ladies get the memo? It's good to wash after doing your business in the bathroom to prevent the spread of germs/disease/right-wing conservatism?

Is it just me? I got the memo. And I'm pretty sure that a good 94% of women out there got it, too. Because I haven't seen a women not wash her hands after using the restroom since before puberty. I'd say these three women were like finding unicorns in the forest, but no matter which way you slice it, I was just grossed out.

Seriously. Is it just me?!

UNDER THE KNIFE. AGAIN.

In less than three days, I am officially going under the knife. Again.

No. It's not serious. At least, I can't imagine it would be.

I mean, really, the only surgery I've ever had is my wisdom teeth out. So I anticipate this one will hurt a little bit more. And no, I'm not nervous. Just not interested in the healing process and pain that will come with it.

Right. I realize I have yet to tell you what surgery I am undergoing. Well, this should help:

See, I've always wanted this to happen. Because ever since I was a kid, I used to get frequent strep throat and then I don't think I spent a month in college without an ear infection. Seriously.

It wasn't until I was in an emergency room in Buffalo last November with strep throat so severe I couldn't swallow water (and my first case of strep throat since 8 years old) that I realized the time hast arrived for me to bid a not-so-fond adieu to my enormously large tonsils and hopefully, the adenoids that accompany them.

You know how they go through phases where the medical community says, "Yes, take them all out," or "No, we stopped doing that!" Well, I fell right after a phase of "Take them all out." Meanwhile, I suffered through more than 22 years of strep throats, ear infections, developed allergies, and sore throats. The time has come for me to say, "no more."

So I shall endure this latest procedure on Friday. And miss 4th of July, perhaps. But then again, I will be accompanied by Vicodin and scores of other pain-killers. And no, I'm not anticipating being the next Rush Limbaugh, but I'm sure it'll make the time go much quicker. If not less painful.

Okay. So maybe I'm a little nervous. But it's the pain that mostly makes me nervous. I know this will pass. But I'm really hoping that I'll be back to feeling functional by Independence Day.

Dare to dream. I know. Don't laugh at my dreams. Punk.

WHOA THERE.

I realize I have been neglectful. But that's sort of the way things go lately.

In short, I have no complaints. Work is enough to keep me busy and though I miss all of my friends dearly, I'm becoming much more comfortable up here in the Albania area. Partly because I'm spending time with new people and making friends. Which, my loyal readers - all three of you - is half the battle.

But this is a short post. Not intended to give you a blow by blow account of what I've been up to. Because I barely remember what I did yesterday.

You know that website, Overheard in New York? It's fabulous, no? Well, I heard something by sitting on my stoop in Albany yesterday that made me wish there was an "Overheard in Albany", though I doubt it would attract much attention...

Guy walking angrily away from woman: She hit me. Do you
understand, she hit me!

Woman: You're a pussy.

Guy: What the hell was I supposed to do?

Woman: What do you want from me?

Guy: I want the video back! You stupid bitch! The
video!

Now, not only am I wondering what is on said video, but I can totally see how she would automatically know he wanted the video back.

-or-

Guy on cellphone walking down street: Yo, son. Did you bring the
midget porn?

Yeah. Smalbany has its advantages. Sometimes.