What a remarkably silly story. And it’s probably even sillier that I comment on it, knowing how silly it is, but the rhetoric out there is just amazing.  Wes Clark was on Face the Nation, often referred to as “that show that’s on Sunday mornings after you’ve already left the house to actual do something with your weekend,” and seems to have opened a bee’s nest of controversy by pointing out something rather innocuous and obvious:

TPM Election Central | Talking Points Memo | Obama Campaign Condemns Wes Clark’s Comments About McCain

But what did Clark actually say? In the course of arguing that military service alone doesn’t qualify you to be a commander in chief — a topic Clark himself knows something about — he said: “I don’t think riding in a fighter plane and getting shot down is a qualification to be president.”

And of course, the McCain camp is shrieking like a teenage girl over the unfairness of it all!  Why, what could be better hands-on learning to be president than sitting in a tiger cage?  The only better thing I can think of is free-falling in a late-sixties model fighter plane.  That’s just like being president. . . sort of. . .

But what’s worse is lefties like those on TPM - both Josh Marshall and the myriad of commenters - who seem to want to insist that this is a cause for Obama to fight, that Obama’s disavowal of Wes’ comments is a capitulation of epic proportions.  I realize we’ve all spent ten years watching Democrats capitulate and we all hate it, but seriously folks, pick your battles.

Because there are just some subjects which are untouchable, injuries inflicted that are simply not within the range of polite talk.  I’ll do myself the favour of not itemizing that list here, but we all know topics for which there are no good ends, and this happens to be one of them.

Of course, Wes Clark is 100% right: the North Vietnamese probably did not give lessons on International Diplomacy or Macro-economics while John McCain was detained there.  They almost certainly did not debate the merits of ethanol nor the weight of scientific data supporting the theory of Global Warming.  They probably didn’t practice diplomatic table-seating protocols, town hall meeting debate styles or the intricacies of the Farm Bill.  He was in a prison, not a primer school for American politicians.  We may regard his heroism as a mark of character, but by itself, it is not a practical qualification for being president.

The fact remains, however, that the public will always rally around someone on whom the mantle of hero has been bestowed.  It is an indelible mark of character, even while the current opinion of the man can and does wane.  Such is as much a reflex of our own war-guilt - about all wars, in all times - as it is an expression of support for McCain, and probably more.  You can say it sucks, you can say it’s absurd, you can insist its irrelevant, but you cannot change it.  And just like Geraldine Ferraro stupidly defending herself on television after making her “Archie Bunker-esque” comments about Barack Obama, trying to swim against that current is folly.

The counter argument generally goes that by giving in to the scream-fest, Obama is codifying the unassailable nature of John McCain’s service as a qualification to be president.  Well, that’s true.  But that genie is long-since out of the bottle, now, thanks to Wes Clark’s small mistake and Bob Schieffer’s giant leap of hystrionics.  It’s not going back in because Obama chooses to fight upstream on Shit Creek.

No, as much as it pains me to see him do it, Barack Obama’s camp is doing the right thing: disavow early, let the steam run out of the story, and move on to the next thing.  Better to let this go now and let everybody get back to remembering McSame’s vision of the future.  And oh, by the way, fighting this battle isn’t something the Obama campaign is supposed to be doing: this is the kind of thing for his supporters to take up for him.

Hint, hint.

I’ve made this point in the recent past, but it bears mentioning again and again, since the media keeps wanting to discuss “bipartisanship” as it applies to Barack Obama’s record.

“Centrism” is the limp-dicked insistence that the middle of the road on any issue is automatically the right course to take.  As Mr. Miaggi famously said, “Left side, OK.  Right side, OK.  Middle of road, Qeeuich!  Squashed like grape.”  It can occasionally be true that finding a middle ground is a more amenable solution and softens the blow of extreme positions on either side, but that does not mean that Centrism and Bipartisanship are necessarily the same thing.

Bipartisanship is the act of bringing together a coalition around accomplishing a single goal.  Notice that there is no mention of that goal necessarily being right, left or center.  It’s possible that a Bipartisan concensus can be formed around a Centrist solution, but it is equally true that a solution largely regarded as being from one wing or the other can also gain and hold Bipartisan support if the right politicians get together.

Therefore, to look at a politician’s record, declare it “Leftist” and therefore conclude that he’s not capable of Bipartisanship is simply wrong.  Not that veracity means much to the media, but maybe it means something to the rest of us.

Yes, the God Hates Fags people are back in the news, this time, picketing George Carlin’s funeral.  They’ve even issued a highly-amusing press release.  They proclaim that God has killed the “potty-mouth” comedian.  Don’t ya just love how people like this say people they like were “called to be with God” when they die, but people they don’t like have been “killed by God?”

No chance you’ve got that backwards, eh, fellas?

In the Bullshit Department, a businessman can’t hold a candle to a clergyman. ‘Cause I gotta tell you the truth, folks. When it comes to bullshit, big-time, major league bullshit, you have to stand in awe of the all-time champion of false promises and exaggerated claims: religion. No contest. No contest. Religion. Religion easily has the greatest bullshit story ever told.

Think about it. Religion has actually convinced people that there’s an invisible man — living in the sky — who watches everything you do, every minute of every day. And the invisible man has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these ten things, he has a special place, full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish, where he will send you to live and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry forever and ever ’til the end of time!

But He loves you.

He loves you, and He needs money! He always needs money! He’s all-powerful, all-perfect, all-knowing, and all-wise, somehow just can’t handle money! Religion takes in billions of dollars, they pay no taxes, and they always need a little more. Now, you talk about a good bullshit story. Holy Shit!

George Carlin

Oyie. Mobile updates to Twitter? I can’t even logon to the freakin thing.

Unfortunately, it was during the chaos of my website meltdown that Barack Obama announced that he would not be taking the public campaign financing and run on his own donated money.  The media has been making a big deal of this, and of course, so has John McCain.  Ideologically, its a bit of a disappointment to see Obama or any politician not take public financing.

But those of us with a brain knew months ago that Obama wouldn’t be taking the public money, so while it might not seem like a great thing for those of us who support Clean Money, it’s not the huge surprise the media would like to believe it is.  It’s also just not the most interesting issue for many voters, which is why no one on the Democratic side has bothered hitting John McCain on his own public financing problems - it’s all just too esoteric.

But what is amusing is to watch the media, which has sat idly by while Republicans have out-raised Democrats in every single contest from President to Podunk Dog Catcher, suddenly find itself so concerned with the fairness of campaign finance when the situation is reversed.  It’s even more amusing to hear Republicans who actively work against Clean Money whenever it comes up suddenly clutching the pearls because Obama didn’t take the taxpayer dollars.

And all of this to be entirely ignored by the public.  No one really cares, it’s just Republicans flailing.

Whilst my site undergoes new hacking, coding, styling and other mayhem, it occurs to me that it’s been a while since I’ve talked about food on this site.  You’d never know it to look at my ever-expanding ass, so I thought I’d address a new place we checked out yesterday evening.

Generally, when something new opens up in Pittsford, I keep my powder dry.  A new boutique or some new trendy place like the Cold Crotch Creamery doesn’t usually do it for me, but after the initial public “panic” wears off, its usually safe to check out.  Such was the case for Tasteology, and since my wife and I have been trying to eat healthier and this place boasted of a more organic menu, it seemed like a good fit.

The decor is about what you’d expect in Pittsford, I’d say.  Lots of modern accents and light wood, flowy lines and generally very sleek styling.  It probably looks pretty cool at night, and I suppose at 7pm or so it didn’t look too bad either.  I’m just a fan of old-school touches and a bit more softness.  Can you tell we new home owners have been watching the HGHD network?

But the food was pretty kick-ass.  We started with grilled pita, tapenade and hummus.  Normally, this appetizer comes with guacamole, but nothing comes with guacamole when its meant to hit any table I plan to eat off of.  Actually, neither hummus nor tapenade are things normally found on my menu, prior to a few years ago.  But as Sarah and I slowly go “Foodie,” these things inevitably creep in.  We tried to eat this one slowly.  We failed.

Then Sarah had a chicken stir-fry with orange-soy sauce and noodles and I had the lobster ravioli.  Yes, we’re trying to eat healthier.  But “trying” and “doing” often are not the same thing.  Still, these are a fair sight better than the carb-fests we’ve typically eaten at Biaggi’s or Carrabba’s or Bennucci’s or Gambini’s or Fibonacci’s or The Guidonian or whatever.  Sarah’s dish was something of an “acquired taste,” but she liked it.  Mine was nice because it had leeks and tomato sauce.  We also had a couple of hot teas: mine was hibiscus, ginger and orange, hers was called “white lemon lime,” and I’m not sure where the lemon and lime flavours came from, but they were there.

We ended with a chocolate torte.  Like I said, “trying.”  And besides, tortes don’t have wheat, so that’s good, right?  We didn’t over-think it, we just ate.

And it was pretty damned good, and the price was right.  We got out of there for fifty bucks.  So, we’ll probably go back, especially since our new-found craving for healthier food doesn’t leave many options for eating out, anymore.

Vincent Bugliosi, the man who convicted Charles Manson and 20 other murderers without ever losing a case, is convinced that a murder charge can be brought against George Bush and he seems pretty serious about following through on it:

Bugliosi v. Bush

I’ve also drafted a letter to DAs across the country offering my services. I’m dead serious about this. With my record as a prosecutor with twenty-one consecutive murder convictions, I would never in a million years argue for a prosecution against the President of the United States unless I knew I was standing on firm and strong legal grounds.

I’m going after Bush and I’m not going to be satisfied until I see him in an American courtroom prosecuted for murder.

It’s eight o’clock in Los Angeles.  It’s nine o’clock in Denver.  It’s ten o’clock in Chicago.

“In Baltimore, it’s 6:42.”

. . .  Time for the Eleven O’Clock News. . .

I’m not sure how old I was - though I’m sure I was younger than I should have been - when, in a typical moment of childhood boredom, I found myself rifling through my mother’s music collection.  It was in moments like these that I was introduced to The Doors, The Eagles, Charlie Daniels, Bill Cosby.  After staring at a cassette tape box with a man on a stool making the goofiest face I’d ever seen, this particular moment was the one in which I discovered George Carlin: AM/FM.

My world changed in that moment.  Or rather, a door opened on another world.  One in which a philologist’s love of words combined with a sophomore’s love of fart jokes.  Where profanity, politics and a healthy dose of drug humor combined to create something that was both profound and crude, but always funny.  George Carlin’s was a world where words could cut to the heart of the matter like the swipe of a street kid’s switchblade, but always loved humanity in it’s frailty in a way that is entirely rare these days.

Goldilocks was a speed freak looking for a place to crash, it’s obvious.  Who else would go to a bear’s house?  And you notice she didn’t eat much, right?  Little porridge, right in the sack.  I know what’s happening.

Over the years, I developed a phonographic memory for George’s comedy.  Fans of his may remember the story he said, “no one will ever repeat.”  You can bet I know every word of it.  Any quotes in this post come directly from my head, having not listened to George’s stuff in at least a few months (Sarah and I brought George along for the ride to New York City, as seemed only appropriate) and in some cases, years.  I probably represent George Carlin’s single biggest copyright infringement issue over the course of the last twenty or so years.  Sarah can certainly attest to the fact that bits of Carlin humor consistently bubble up as events inspire them.

Because if there is any single famous person that can truly be said to have had a direct effect on the way I see the world, it would have to be George Carlin.  Other people inspired me, other people’s works I’ve sought to emulate on one level or another, but it was George Carlin’s peculiar ability to twist reality in a way that actually made it make more sense that struck a much deeper chord in me.  George could lead me down a literary path, luring me with words down a specific line of thought and with a sudden left turn, reveal a contradiction in the world I had never before thought of.  Funny that a person with a ten minute bit on snot would have such an effect, isn’t it?  But that’s the way it is, for me.

Hey, have you noticed that you never seem to get laid much on Thanksgiving?  I think it’s because all the coats are on the bed.

It was all those words Carlin was able to weave that inspired me.  George would use words lyrically, critically, absurdly and in ways so inventive that I’ve never seen better before or since.  Sure, it was comedy.  But in many ways, it was so much more to me.  Little wonder, then, that I’ve become a writer in my adulthood.  And little wonder that I spend so much of my time watching the news.

First of all, the headlines.  Welcome wagon runs over newcomer.  Good humor man slays ten.  Pen pal stabs pal with pen.  Pediatrician dies of childhood disease.  And Jacques Cousteau dies in bathtub accident. . .

And of course, there was always the politics.  Long before I understood why my grandfather used to yell at the TV every time Ronald Reagan was on, George was informing my politics.  Whether he was railing against the Catholic Church in his singular way or pointing out the odd subliminal messages in our advertisement, he was showing me a way to view the world critically and with a sense of humor at the same time.

We are very self-centered in our attitudes toward God, in fact, we created him.  In our own image and likeness. . . yes, very self-centered.  In fact, when we have a statue of Jesus on our dashboard, instead of having him watch for traffic - which he should be doing - we’ve got him watching us drive!

“Watch this, Jesus!  Left turn, nyOOOWWWwwww!”

This morning, my wife came into the bathroom as I was preparing to shave to tell me that George Carlin had passed away.  I don’t know for how long, but I just stared at her.  I’ve known for a long time that this was coming, but of course, when death happens the end always seems so sudden.  I knew the last time I saw him - Sarah got me tickets to see him at the Auditorium Theater for Christmas a few years back - that my time was limited, but now that the moment is real, I am shaken.  I sit awash in feelings; above all, I’m glad I knew a little bit of him.

But I’m sure the last thing George would want would be for people to mourn his death.  In fact, he’d become quite the connoisseur of death humor over the last few years, so I’m sure he’d have a remarkably crude joke or two at his own expense.  So rather than focus on the passing, I’ve chosen to make this post a “copyright infringement tour de force,” which I’m guessing he’d like better.  Or maybe he’d sue, hard to say.

By the way, one story: I remember when I was still living at home in Sodus, I stopped for gas at one of the many gas shacks on 104.  Down the way a few pumps was a guy who looked just like George Carlin.  I mean “just.” My gut instantly flopped over with nerves, there wasn’t the slightest question in my mind it was him.  He walked in to pay and I walked in behind him.  But when I asked if he was George Carlin, the guy said, “yeah, I get that all the time.”

I have no idea if that was him or not.  My gut still tells me it was.  If it was you, George, ya got me good.  And let’s face it: no one is nearly as interesting in person as you think of them, so that moment before talking to the guy was probably as good as it gets, anyway.  And now I’ll end this post with one of George’s most bizarre endings:

You’ve been listening to the erotic daydreams of an infant worm being sucked backwards through a French milking machine.  Remember: hire the handicapped, but don’t let them take your rectal temperature.  Stay tuned now for Let’s Injure Dave. . . .

It’s been a long week.

Without going into too much pointless detail, suffice it to say that a comedy of errors kept this site dark for two full days while I worked out a number of problems.  Hosting issues, the threat (happily, all in my head) of potential hacker mischief and a lamentable choice to upgrade in the middle of a crisis left me scratching my head and itching to go back and blog.  There were moments in there that I questioned why I was working so hard.  What am I doing with this site, anyway?

But I was also left practically getting hives without an outlet for expression, so I guess I found my answer.

The site is now upgraded to WordPress MU version 1.5.1, and that’s a good thing.  However, I’ve discovered that some critical plugins will need to be recoded to work with the new platform for reasons I don’t yet fully understand.  It’ll all get worked out eventually.

In the meanwhile, thanks to all of you who wrote me.  Everything’s fine now.  We now return to your regularly scheduled blogging.

Hillary Clinton? Bob Lonsberry? Are you taking notes:

Ben Smith’s Blog: Obama apologizes to Muslim women; apology accepted - Politico.com

Sen. Barack Obama today called the two Muslim women who were barred from sitting behind him at his Detroit rally to apologize, one of the women and two other sources said.

“Sen. Obama called himself and he apologized to each of us,” one of the women, lawyer Hebba Aref, told me just now.

Senator Obama’s campaign screwed up - it was a couple volunteers at a local event, but it was still technically his campaign - and they refused to let a few Muslim women in hajib, or traditional headscarfs, sit behind Obama at a rally. Most likely, the volunteers objected for fear of eliciting more “Obama is a Muslim” rhetoric from the fringe Right. Whatever is the case, it’s still wrong.  And Senator Obama called each of the women to apologize because he knew it was wrong.

He could easily have dodged the problem by “firing” the volunteers.  He could easily have made excuses for why it didn’t happen the way the reports said it happened.  He could have blamed the volunteers and said, “that’s what happens when you use volunteers.”  He chose to do none of these things.  He assumed responsibility, took three whacks, and got it over with like a decent human being.

I’m not saying it’s easy, but its the right thing to do.  Especially for a leader.