In The Name of the Father, Obama & Holy Ghost.

Have you seen the video made in support of Obama? I find it distasteful, but extremely hilarious. Oh, it's Whoopi Goldberg and other celebrities with praying hands, accompanied by solemn and reflective facial expressions as they sing "American Prayer". Barry Manilow is even there with his pinched, botoxed EXPRESSIONLESS puppet face. What the hell is this? I have never seen anything so embarrassing in my life. After suffering through this video, I may stop calling myself an Independent and become a die-hard Republican! Here's the video dedicated to the new Messiah.

PHILADELPHIA PUNK ROCK FLEA MARKET

I went to the Philadelphia Punk Rock Flea Market the other day. Funny, I thought Punk Rock died circa 1979. Was I wrong? Anyway, this event was about as Punk Rock as the MUPPET SHOW, and that's giving it way too much credit. I never saw so many unwashed, smelly urchins in one building. I saw "QUEER" people (translation: alien seahorses with body odor and an undefined gender/sexuality) looking through ragged clothes while eating melting vegan cookies and complaining about how $3.00 prices are too high. I saw passionless, languid, PBR drinking hipsters who think the cast members from TEEN WOLF TOO are style icons. These overly tattooed nerdsters all have the same fashion sense: thick ugly rimmed glasses (ala Charles Nelson Reilly from Matchgame PM), drainpipe jeans (aka skinny jeans) & ironic t-shirts emblazoned with unicorns and CARE BEARS!
BY THE WAY, can someone please tell the pudgy dudes that skinny jeans are only for SKINNY PEOPLE under the age of 23. Sadly, I know an irritating little ponce who wears these jeans and looks like an overfed Pillsbury Doughboy tightly squeezed into sausage casing. I bet if I snipped the cuffs of his jeans an overabundance of Marshmallow Fluff would seep out.
Anyway, I was hot and sweaty and the lines were too long and I don't consider mohawked Sisters of Sappho punk rockers! What I'm trying to say is that PUNK ROCK was about an energy: punks were anti-establishment and even though their tirades may have been drug-induced at least they had fun. They were enjoyably negative. What I saw that weekend should have been aptly titled the LIMP SOCK flea market.

23 Things I Love This Month

1. Thomas Pink Elephant Print Tie
2. Arugula salads with artichoke hearts
3. Oxicleaning my whites
4. Peggy Noonan
5. Seltzer with a squirt of lime juice
5. Thrift shopping for hours.
6. The Tudors
7. Rock of Love 2
8. Transformers The Movie
9. Horror movie nights with my best buddy
10. Mocking passerby with my favorite wife
11. Gossiping with the Stegosaurus of my heart
12. Red plastic elephant pin
13. America's Next Top Model & Girlicious Night with my lovely lady & gent
14.McLaughlin Group sundays
15. Carpal Tunnel Exercises
16. Late night phone gabbing with mom
17. Neti Pot
18. Chicken Pho
19. People who ignore their cell phones while hanging with me
20. Eating Veggie Booty until fully bloated
21. Sleeping alone
22. KCRW's Left, Right & Center Podcast
23. Maria Callas on rainy days

RAQUEL WELCH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Raquel Welch is 67 and I love her dearly. Viva Raquel!

OSCARS 2008: Suicide Is Always An Option

Once again the Oscars were abysmal. Where are the movie stars? Where is the glamour? There wasn't even anyone to ridicule. Drab! Drab! Drab! The stage looked cold and barren with columns that rose and fell like the bank tubes used at drive-thru windows.
As a matter of fact, I think I had more fun getting my free lollipops from the chirpy Wachovia bank-tellers than watching the 2008 Academy Awards. John Stewart had a few good lines, but I am so sick of that brand of "wink-wink" glib humor. You know it is going to be a wretched night when the biggest star is the sexless Tilda Swinton. Her lifeless face was a forecast of the nothingness to come that wearisome evening. Would it hurt to wear a little makeup? I mean, you are being paid to entertain us you unappreciative chalky slag.
And how many friggen times must I hear songs from the Disney movie, ENCHANTED? God, that cacophonous Broadway-style is equivalent to having someone playing Chopsticks up and down my spine with a fork. When does the torture end? Waterboarding never seemed so pleasant.
And who the hell are the stylists of these people? They need to be directed on what to wear and say to their clueless and adoring fans. I wince every time I hear a witless remark by baby-woman Cameron Diaz. I am dumbfounded when I am told that the ingenue, who is the organism named Hannah Montana, will be a billionaire soon. What the hell is happening? And can someone please explain John Travolta's painted-on hairdo?
I must admit there were some visual presents such as the cougar-faced Faye Dunaway and the silver-fox Jane Russell on the red carpet, but that's not enough to get me through an awards ceremony. I officially declare war against Hollywood! We need to fight against the powers that be and establish control like the studio gestapo of yesteryear. Mediocrity is winning and I can't stomach it!

Falling Backwards

Whether Hillary Clinton was sincere or not while weeping cannot be determined. We can only surmise. I do believe she was very aware of what this "emotion" could achieve. Hillary was so desperate to win in New Hampshire, and thanks to her tears she did. For the longest time, I saw Hillary as a very cold and fierce candidate, and, even though, I despised her politics I felt she could hold her own against any man. I never thought she would bring on the waterworks just for political gain. Of course, when this fiasco started many news people mentioned emotional moments of male leaders. True, Mitt Romney teared up when talking about the Mormon church allowing black preachers. And yes, George H. Bush sobbed while talking about his son, Jeb, at a leadership forum. In both instances, these men spoke of past events or instances that had moved them. When I watch the Hillary video I feel as if she is almost begging the American people to wake up and vote for her: "I have so many opportunities from this country, I just don't want to see us fall backwards." So, to vote for another candidate, besides Hillary, is "falling backwards"? Are we so blind that we cannot detect manipulation at work here? And suppose it was a true emotional geyser, wouldn't it still seem as if she were both overtired and fearful of losing the election? We cannot have a leader, man or woman, who cries in public when things get frustrating or tough.

DEATHWATCH

OUI: But you do look in the mirror a good deal, as you have written.

GORE VIDAL: True.

OUI: Why?

VIDAL: Looking for death. Seeing what inroads death has made since the last glance.

OUI: Have you always looked in mirrors?

VIDAL: All my life.

OUI: And has it always been a question of death?

VIDAL: No, that comes later. When you're young, you look hopefully- oh dear, not "hopefully" - to see yourself growing up, to see if you're getting lines and beginning to look like a proper adult. You look for change. In one's prime, you look to see how you are faring, if you're still there. After forty, the deathwatch.