Prepare Yourselves For A Settlement

Maybe.

2009-09-24T12:45:00.000-07:00

I'm considering a comeback.

If it happens, I'll post the info here.

The Last Will and Testament of John Brown

2008-05-01T12:02:00.000-07:00

The Last Will and Testament of John Brown Starts with Olives and a Movie...

I'm on the sofa. It's around midnight. I'm chewing on another Manzanilla stuffed olive. The windows are cracked to welcome the onset of spring. An intermittent cool breeze trickles by me. I'm numb.

My head is fully functional. My eyes are working. They're focused intently on the television. My ears are fine. I can hear everything. The olive tastes good. I'm thinking. Actually, I'm absorbing. Behind the absorption, in the very back of my head--right where noggin meets neck--a realization is percolating.

I'm warm. My body is sleeping. My forearms are heavy. I have to pause to consider whether another olive is worth the excruciating effort required to lift it from plate to mouth. My feet are gone. My legs are gone. Numb and warm and fuzzy.

I'm watching The New World and I'm watching it at just the right time. Sometimes, things happen a certain way and that way is the only way those things could ever really work. So it is with me, the couch, a numb body and The New World. It's all perfect timing. For whatever reason, everything about The New World is working. For whatever reason, I am working as if my sole reason for existing is to watch the movie.

I watch. And up from the back of my head comes a thought. It bubbles up from the neck into the forefront of my consciousness. Like a water cooler. Blurp.

This movie is doing something different. It's telling the same old John Smith/Pocahontas story, but it's not allowing me my usual historical smugness. Sure, I know how the story goes, at least in general terms. Yes, I know how it all ends. I remember key plot points from grade school Pilgrim projects scattered over several Novembers. It's different this time.

In The New World, the principle characters don't know what's about to happen. They don't know how the story ends. The tale isn't history book material. It's happening in their present. The movie doesn't slap your face with reminders about what will eventually happen. Nothing about it feigns omniscience. Everything is new. It's new. It's happening. It's done effectively enough to put the viewer into that newness.

I'm living in that moment with John Smith. I'm impressed with the tall grass. I admire the sunset. I feel fear and curiosity about the naturals. Later, I'm hanging with Pocohantas. I'm impressed and intimidated by London. I'm human and prop. It's all new.

I'm not one of those diehard Terrance Malick Fans. I liked Days of Heaven. I thought Thin Red Line was better than most movies, but not as good as those who trumpeted it as an artistic masterpiece pretended. Badlands? I haven't seen it.

I mention my perspective on Malick because discussions of his movies often devolve into film partisanship. It's Malickites vs. Anti-Malickites and the movie gets lost in the kerfluffle. I'm not interested in that discussion, though.

I'm not willing to claim that The New World is a cinematic masterpiece. It undoubtedly has flaws. It probably could be better. At that time, however, it was perfect. On my couch with a tired body, an engaged mind, and a saucer of olives, The New World was absolute genius. It captivated.

You could take a million different messages from the movie. It could be a tree hugger's parable. It could be a PC reflection on the noble savage. It could be a backlash humanization of the European conquest of the Americas. It could be a love story. It could be history with a great score and a good cast.

My message was in the newness of America to the English, the newness of England to Pocohantas and, after the credits fell off my screen, the way we act in our current moment, completely unable to ascertain the eventual consequences of our actions. We might have guesses. We may make predictions. In the end, though, we utilize our understanding of history and the present, mix it together with the way we feel and the threat in our face, and do something. History judges. It's always new.

The New World is, no matter what you think about its narrative, beautiful. Though some decry the imagery as static and over-lingereing, no one can credibly argue that Malick fails to find and feature natural beauty in a very strong way. It is a pretty movie and the natural onslaught eventually wears at the viewer's urban wall, connecting him or her with the land again.

John Brown Hearts George Harrison...

I was born in 1970. As a result, I was never required to pick a favorite Beatle. If someone made me pick today, I'd throw my support behind George Harrison for a variety of reasons that aren't directly related to this tale.

George Harrison wrote a few amazing songs. He committed a few nearly unforgiveable musical sins in the 80s.

Harrison, sick and tired of the business end of Beatlemania and the tyranny of superstardom took a day off from "work" in 1969. He went over to Eric Clapton's house and walked through the garden with an acoustic guitar in his hands. After a gloomy English winter, it was nice to see the sun again. By the end of his walkabout, he wrote Here Comes the Sun.

Here Comes the Sun almost seems like a throwaway song. The lyrics are simple. Maybe simple-minded. It's nothing more than a big thumbs up to sunshine and bright backed by a catchy melody. A very catchy melody. The Beatles recorded it (sans Lennon) and it sold well in 1969. Maybe that's because a cute tune will sell no matter what. Maybe it's because, even in the most tumultuous of times, people need to remember that sunshine and bright are good things. Here Comes the Sun also offers a certain reassurance we all need to hear, even if it is pat and simple. "It's all right".

I was driving to work a few days after watching The New World. I was pointed eastbound, waiting at a stop light on an overpass. The sun was directly in front of me. It wasn't a nuisance, though, as it was shaded by hundreds of tiny clouds that were racing on wind in front of it. It looked like one of those high-speed stop-frame movie tricks. The sky was moving at a frenetic pace while we waited through stoplights.

I was sick of AM talk radio word-porn. I was so tired of hearing about Jeremiah Wright that I avoided even the socially acceptable liberalism of NPR, just in case. I tapped the "scan" button on the radio a few mintues before I hit the stop light.

The light flipped green, my foot reflexively moved from brake to accellerator and I took one last look at the sun and the white rocket-fast clouds. The radio paused on a "classic rock" station and I recognized the "du dn du du". I stopped it there. Here Comes the Sun.

I was northbound on a boulevard, passing through an established residential neighborhood that, over time, has found itself shoehorned between two pods of commerce. Trees on both sides of the road. No matter how long I typed, no matter how long a Terrance Malick camera lingered on those trees, you couldn't understand spring Kansas trees in the wind without seeing them yourself at that moment. The were new and green and in exactly the right place at the right time.

Butterflies...

Before Here Comes the Sun and before The New World, there were butterflies, a grumpy father named John Brown and Revolution.

Work is work. Sometimes I like it. Sometimes I feel little more than disdain toward it. When I'm on the treadmill too long, my mood suffers. I doubt I'm unusual in that sense.

Lately, I've filled a few slow work hours and a bit of at-home downtime with this blog. It isn't the centerpiece of my life, but it has been a regular diversion. I watch the news. I listen to the news. I read other blogs. I think. I comment. I write. The more I think, watch listen, read and write the more generally frustrated I become. The blog seems like a good idea. A nice way to vent while advocating for things I hold dear.

At the same time, it makes me angry. Angry at those with power. Angry at those seeking power. Angry at liars, cheaters, hacks, fools and generally silly people who do fantastically stupid things. If tracking the day's events and commenting upon them is a vent, it's merely the vent on a self-constructed mental pressure cooker.

Usually, my bad moods last a day. Maybe two. This time, I was working on day six of a generally lousy disposition. I was about to take another dip from the well of rage. The laptop was in front of me and I was ready to start answering comments on some of the posts here. I wanted a little peace, a little quiet and about ten uninterrupted minutes to set the record straight for a few of the asshats who left snarky remarks and to backslap a few of the geniuses who shared my sentiments. I didn't get it.

Instead, I got a visit from my four year-old daughter who wanted to play outside. Even with a bad mood, I'm a decent father. The weather was nice and a trip outside would spare the Brown family from cartoons. I did what decent fathers do. I went outside.

Ball throwing and ball kicking were suspended upon the discovery of a big yellow butterfly. There are few things four year-old girls love as much as butterflies. We'd chase. It would land. We'd approach it would fly away. The process repeated itself, punctuated by our laughter, her very real amazement, and my mock surprise. In time, my phony excitement gave way to a real interest, too.

That's when the child had her idea. The butterfly landed on grass, right? That must mean that the butterfly likes grass. So, perhaps we could get a piece of grass and "trick" the butterfly into resting upon it. We could then pick up the butterfly and study it more closely.

This was an idea doomed to fail. There was no way a jumpy four year-old could ever sneak up on an equally jumpy butterfly with a piece of grass. Even if the kid managed to contain her excitement long enough to get close, no sane butterfly would opt to grab the offering. Even if the butterfly did grab the grass, it would fly away the second the child lifted the blade. Doomed.

I sugarcoated my assessment. I told her it probably wouldn't work, but she could try. She found a relatively long blade of grass and suddenly transitioned from spastic post-toddler into a butterfly tricking stealth machine. To my utter amazement, her plan worked. 100% success.

Within moments, she held the grass in one hand while lightly petting its wing with the index finger of her other hand. Eventually, the butterfly flew away. We laughed and rolled in the grass, drunk on her success. We went to find him again, but he was gone.

A few hours later, the Brown family decided to go out for supper. The child was excited to walk to the car. She thought we might again see her pet butterfly. I knew better, of course. The odds of seeing the same bug again were astronomical. As we made our way to the car, however, I did see it. The same yellow butterfly with the same black patterned wings. It was resting on a bush. The girl walked right up to the butterfly, this time without grass, and carefully petted him. She said "goodbye, see you later" and he flew away.

I missed my blogging time chasing butterflies. The next night, I was preparing to add to Prepare Yourselves for a Settlement. The girl was sitting on the floor. She had been playing with Tinker Toys. At that moment, though, she was just staring toward the ceiling. I quizzed her. She was thinking about butterflies. We talked, laughed and considered butterflies. Ten minutes later I was shaving broken crayons with a potato peeler. We made "stained glass" butterflies with wax paper, an iron and Crayola fragments.

Those butterflies are now hanging from a homemade mobile in her bedroom, which brings us back to the Beatles. I stood on a wooden chair, and carefully tacked the butterfly mobile to the ceiling while the child directed my efforts and my wife made a photographic record of our triumph. I was whistling.

You Say You Want a Revolution?

The child asked me why I was whistling. I told her it was because I was happy. I recognized that my mood had improved somewhere between butterfly trickery and butterfly craftiness. "What's that song then?"

I was whistling a reassuring line from a Beatles song. It wasn't the "It's all right" of Here Comes the Sun. It was the "You know it's gonna be all right" of Revolution, which takes us back to my car several days before. The timeline blurs when you're piecing things together.

I was driving home from work on the freeway, intentionally avoiding my usual audio diet of newsy talk and bullshittery, wishing that the Royals were playing so I had something decent to pass the time. I'd rather listen to Denny Matthews call a loser right now than to some local Michael Savage wannabe's masturbation over concocted scandal. The radio searched for a station and it found the Beatles.

I've always loved Revolution. Musically, it's a real rock 'n' roll assault from a band who isn't known for its power chords or screaming. It's also a melodic earworm that's hard to shake. It's lyrically interesting and has a unique backstory.

It started as a ballad and became fast and distorted only after Lennon realized he was the only one who "heard a single" in the slow version. The lyrics have bobbed between being counted "in" or "out" "when you talk about destruction". Lennon says he had mixed sentiments, but the rest of the lyrics belie that explanation. The "in" version is almost self-contradictory, leading me to believe John Lennon was having a little fun with the "in/out" switch.

Revolution doesn't glorify the titular concept. It's critical of stereotypical viewpoints of revolutionary activity. It mocks those who'd attempt to garner favor by waving posters of Mao. It's a song about the need to revolt internally against the things we despise instead of taking our rage to the streets. It's not about tearing down institutions, it's about changing minds.

The most interesting part about Revolution is its end. It's a reminder to those who are operating on hate and raging against the machine that, when all is said and done, "it's gonna be all right".

Eventually, the sun will come. It's all right. I don't know how many people have found a dovetailing between Revolution and Here Comes the Sun. It's obvious to me. The two meet in the same place. Things can be shitty. Things can be dreary. Eventually, if you're willing to roll with it, everything turns out all right.

The real John Brown was an extremely religious man. A fanatic, perhaps. I stole his name for this blog, but I didn't snag his fervor. I'm not religious. I have my opinions. I have my perspectives. I'm not a Flying Spaghetti Monster smart-ass. I'm not a Richard Dawkins atheist. If you asked me if I planned on meeting Jesus after my death, however, I'd probably chuckle at the very notion.

Nonetheless, I've seen longshots come in before. One of my early childhood memories is a Jim Colborn no-hitter. I've watched Kansas lose to Bucknell and Butler in the NCAA tourney. I've seen a butterfly land on a blade of grass wielded from a usually hyperkinetic four year-old. I don't plan on having coffee with Christ, but anything is possible.

Although I'm not a churchgoing man, I've gone to a few churches. A few years ago, the Brown family visited a Unitarian church. I liked a lot of what I heard. In fact, I often wonder why we haven't become regulars there. The pastor is a Harvard-educated guy from Massachusetts. He blogs. Every once in awhile, I look him up and read a sermon.

Thom Belote recently delivered a sermon on emotional renewal. He begins the sermon by sharing his shock in learning that Sirius radio was offering a 24-hour station dedicated to the sexual activity of Elliot Spitzer. He references everything from The Matrix to popular liberal bumper stickers to Jeremiah Wright to MLK's admonition that we should live in "divine discontent".

Belote's point, in my estimation, is that there is a place of emotional renewal that lurks somewhere between our rages and happily sticking our heads in the sand. There's a place for revolution based on our understanding of the world and our knowledge of history but it doesn't make sense to pursue those objectives with "minds that hate" any more than it pays to pretend like everything is perfect when it isn't. In the end, it's about finding personal points of conversion and reaching a state of healthy emotional balance.

John Brown Returns to Politics, if only for a Moment...

This blog has always been more political than personal. Now might be a good time to return to that political terrain, as tired as it's becoming.

I've noticed a few things lately. They are things I've probably known for a long time. Perhaps they slowly slid down the back of my head and have only now gurgled to the front again. Pat Buchanon will never say anything that really matters to me. He will not make me think. James Carville will never say anything meaningful, either. He will cover old territory. There is nothing new on television news and very little new in the blogosphere. Hucksters will slime. The power-hungry will reach. Attention whores will slut themselves up for an audience. Mock outrage will blare daily and condescension will share time with rage and hate. It's not new. It's old.

Watching it and responding to it every day is akin to choosing to build your home at the intersection of Masochism Road and Sisyphus Lane. It guarantees repetition of malignant exposures and repulsive behaviors. If I'm right (and I probably am) that Hillary Clinton's campaign causes cancer of the political soul, why would I voluntarily choose to expose myself to her creepy germs day after day? Why would I do that when it's so obvious that I'm already beginning to display symptoms of the disorder?

The New World reminded me that we confront the new from the now, armed only with our knowledge of the past to guide us. We don't know the end of the story. The most noble efforts will be damned by history. Our most evil schemes may be acclaimed. We don't know how the story ends. We can make our educated guesses. We have no choice but to try to do good. We can't know the results. Too much dogmatism, too much certainty, too much carrying pictures of Chairman Mao... They don't make a lot of sense to me.

The upside is that "it's all right". In the end, things tend to work out. Sometimes they don't work out for the best. Sometimes they do. Most of survive.

There are things worth fighting for. I mean really fighting for. John Brown (the real one) believed that. He raged against the slavery machine with all of his Jesus-stuffed heart. Thousands upon thousands of heroes known and unknown have stood in front of tanks, delivered speeches, left comfort for the sake of righteousness and displayed courage in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.

I wonder, though, is our current political state worth that blind rage, that fervor, that dedication? Does it make sense--good sense--to get pissed off at whatever crazy and stupid thing Bill O'Reilly says? Is it nourishing to hate Michelle Malkin? Is there any reason whatsoever to even care in the slightest about Ann Coulter?

I can't come up with a good reason to push the boulder of "Hillary Clinton is a fucking Monster and I can't stand her" back up the mountain. It's not worth the energy. It's not worth the brainpower. It certainly isn't worth missing butterfly chases or craft projects. It's old, it's tired, and it's remarkably ugly. I won't claim I'm ashamed of anything I've written. I certainly won't recant my positions. I will, however, abandon this.

This is the last will and testament of John Brown, blogger. I'm going to spend my blogging time fishing, chasing butterflies, watching baseball, marveling at sunsets and finding emotional renewal in balance. I'm going to remember that we don't have monopolies on truth, we aren't omniscient and, that "everything is gonna be all right". That's my plan. If fate taps my shoulder with a cause that really resonates with me--one that compels me to heroism--I'll be there.

In the meantime, I'm going to try to live a little bit more like the concept I found so appealing about the Obama campaign before both sides started to get traditionally ugly. There was this idea that we might be able to be smart enough to examine the now and to study history in a way that would lead us toward a productive approach to the future. It was hope and change fueled by the idea of serious consideration. I liked it. Like so many, including some at the very core of the Obama campaign, I abandoned it when things got dirty.

We tend to retreat toward old learned behaviors when we're confronted with an attack. It's hard not to be defensive and to then scheme an equally painful counter-attack. It's also stupid and boring. I might be smarter than Pat Buchanan. I might be closer to true than he is. I'm just yelling along with him for sport, though. It's like forcing oneself to fart just to add to the stench in the room.

It's destructive. "And when you talk about destruction, don't you know that you can count me out?"

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...

Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right
It's all right

Barack Obama's NEWEST Controversial Relationship... Sick kids, national epidemics? Obama DOESN'T CARE!!!!

2008-04-25T11:41:00.000-07:00

A Letter to Readers of Prepare Yourselves for a Settlement

MR. OBAMA? WHERE DO YOU FIND HOPE IN CHILDREN SUFFERING ? WHERE IS THE CHANGE IN PROMOTING A NATIONAL HEALTH CRISIS? WHEN WILL YOU FINALLY RENOUNCE, REJECT, REPUDIATE AND COMPLETELY DISTANCE YOURSELF FROM THIS EVIL-DOER AND HIS MANIPULATION OF CHILDREN FOR PERSONAL PROFIT?

Dear Readers,

I'm changing my thinking about Obama. I think it's high time for Barack Obama to denounce, renounce, reject, end and completely decimate at least one of his incredibly destructive long-term relationships.

Although I've been an Obama supporter, I feel my allegiance slipping with each and every day the Senator from Illinois refuses to repudiate some of the unsavory characters with whom he is close and the evils these acquaintances visit upon the United States of America.

It seems like a new scandal by association emerges every single day. I've kept my reservations to myself as Obama fumbled through discussions regarding Jeremiah Wright, Tony Rezko, Louis Farakhan and William Ayres. Now, however, a new questionable relationship has emerged and I am unwilling to say anything nice or decent about Senator Barack Obama until he comes clean and completely distances himself from a true villain--a monster hellbent on destroying the health and happiness of American children.

Obama has been avoiding scrutiny on this simply because of his party and background. How would the public and press deal with something like this if the candidate was someone other than media darling Barack Obama:

*Candidate publicly admits to appreciating and enjoying Mr. X.
*Mr. X is directly involved with marketing products to children.
*The products with which Mr. X is involved are known to be harmful to children.
*The ills created by the products are considered a growing national emergency.
*Candidate continues his support of Mr. X and fails to renounce the villain.

That bizarre scenario isn't some sort of far-fetched fantasy. It's happening today.

Barack Obama is the Candidate and Mr. X...

You may know him as SpongeBob SquarePants. Obama publicly admitted his love of Mr. SquarePants in a very public interview. Mr. Obama must be acutely aware that Mr. SquarePants image is used to sell sugary sweet cereal, Pop Tarts and other high-calorie/high-carb processed food products to children. Children! Child obesity is a national epidemic and a true NATIONAL EMERGENCY. Yet Barack Obama won't speak out.

Senator Obama remains silent as children suffer and die--all the while speaking positively about one of the merchants of death responsible for these horrors.

MR. OBAMA? WHERE DO YOU FIND HOPE IN CHILDREN SUFFERING ? WHERE IS THE CHANGE IN PROMOTING A NATIONAL HEALTH CRISIS? WHEN WILL YOU FINALLY RENOUNCE, REJECT, REPUDIATE AND COMPLETELY DISTANCE YOURSELF FROM THIS EVIL-DOER AND HIS MANIPULATION OF CHILDREN FOR PERSONAL PROFIT?

If this is a new kind of politics, I want nothing to do with it.

Sincerely,

John Brown
Concerned American Citizen

Note: I originally wrote this after reading a rather bizarre post from Evan Gahr. Moments after posting this, I was pointed toward another, equally enlightening post at No Quarter. My joke is the most reasonable of the three. And that is sad.

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If reality was fantasy, Hillary would be a lock to win! More from the Marsh...

2008-04-24T07:26:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I know. It's too easy. It's not all that productive. It's sooooo obvious. Others do it better. It's juvenile. Fine. Fine. Fine. I still can't resist making fun of famed best-selling author, warner of lawsuits and sex industry super-sleuth Taylor Marsh.

Clinton Leads in Popular Vote... if you count Michigan and Florida.

This gem, from astute political observer and famed talk radio personality (cue laugh track) Taylor Marsh is one of my favorites this morning.

If you count the elections that everyone knew didn't count, Hillary leads the popular vote! If you count the election in which Obama's name wasn't on the fucking ballot, Hillary's ahead.

If April was December, Christmas would be right around the corner! If John Bale and Brett Tomko were legit Cy Young hopefuls, the Royals would be contenders this year! If Monster wasn't trailing, she'd be ahead!

If inches were feet, I'd have a 6' schlong!

Remember, the genius behind "if you count Florida and Michigan" is begging her devoted following of wine-drunk fellow Monster fans to lobby Air America so she can get real mic time. You know what to do.

Hotel Space Available for Inauguration--CHEAP!!!

"Kelly", a Taylor Marsh super-fan and a worshipper at the Altar of Monster, is getting ready to book space in DC for the inauguration. This delusional decision to spend cash in hopes of seeing Monster put her claws on the good book means one thing and one thing only to those who aren't drunk on cheap boxed wine--Kelly's gonna be selling later.

Need a room while in Washington to watch Obama or McCain take the oath? Get in touch with Kelly. She'll have hotel space at a discount! You can reach her via the comment section at The Silliest Blog in America.

From the swamp of Marsh comments:

And only mildly OT ... where's the best place to stay in DC for the inauguration? My partner gave me the go-ahead last night to make reservations! kelly | 04.23.2008 - 4:16 pm

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Congratulations, Monster! You can hate Hillary, but give credit where credit is due...

2008-04-23T06:40:00.000-07:00

It's easy to blame losers instead of crediting winners. You see it all the time. Kansas didn't win the basketball national championship, Memphis screwed up and lost it. The Giants only won the Super Bowl because the Patriots stunk. It's always the loser's mistakes and never the victor's skills, it seems.

This line of thinking is common in politics, too. Why can't Barack close the deal? What did Hillary do wrong in Iowa? Etc. When it comes to Monday morning quarterbacking and political punditry, it's all about the loser's shortcomings these days. People like to analyze why one person lost instead of focusing on why the other won.

I think that's crap. I believe in giving credit where credit is due. That puts me in a difficult position this morning. If you've ever read a post here before, you know that I think Barack Obama is our best remaining choice for President and that I believe Hillary Clinton causes cancer of the political soul.

Nonetheless, I'm not going to spend this morning blaming Obama's failures for Pennsylvania. Nor am I going to take the easiest out possible--arguing (perhaps accurately) that Hillary's support came, in large measure, from a bunch of idiots. Nope. I'm going to simply congratulate Hillary on winning.

Hey, Monster...

Congratulations.

Clinton won Pennsylvania by 1o points and now Monster can continue its march of shame right into Indiana and beyond. Hell, for all I know Hillary will be able to spread the disease so successfully that she'll end up as our next President. That's still VERY unlikely, but anything can happen.

She did a smash-up job winning Pennsylvania. She withstood a massive spending imbalance. She quickly and forcefully jumped on top of every little Obama act that could be twisted into a negative. She got her picture taken while guzzling brews, talked about her family's involvement with the gun culture and painted her opponent as a snobby elitist in an area where snobby elitists aren't all that popular. She did the better job in the debate of appearing Presidential to the remaining undecided voters and soft Obama supporters. She made all the requisite TV appearances and even snuck in a day-before interview with KO at MSNBC, proving that she didn't mind walking into the lion's den in exchange for face time.

Good work, Monster. You won. You worked your positives, amplified your opponent's real negatives, created some new temporary negatives for him, created more memorable TV ads and convinced Pennsylvanians that you're the "tough" one.

Obviously, Barack Obama didn't do everything right. That's a whole different story for a different day. The fact of the matter is that Clinton did better. The proof is in the pudding. Scoreboard. 10 point lead.

If we wanted to select Presidents based on their ability to run tenacious long-shot campaigns... If we wanted to choose leaders based on their ability to execute old school politics like true professionals... If we wanted to honor those who are really good at playing the game... Well, it that's what we wanted I think Hillary Clinton has made a very strong case for herself since Super Tuesday.

Personally, I have higher aspirations. That's why I won't pull a lever labeled Monster. Obviously, others don't feel that way. I truly believe I'm right and they're wrong, but what the hell... Today, let the fans of Hillary rejoice.

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I'll have the waffles and a side order of stupid, please... Barack Obama eats breakfast--madness ensues...

2008-04-22T07:27:00.001-07:00

Short recap of the oft-repeated tale:

Barack Obama went to a diner. He kissed babies, shook hands and ordered breakfast. He started eating. A reporter asked him a question. He said "Why can't I just eat my waffle?"

This is not news. It is not interesting. It is a politician eating breakfast. One can't peer deep into his soul based on his response. One can't reasonably extrapolate anything about his overall willingness to engage the press based on his desire to eat his fucking waffle at that given moment. One can't maintain, with a straight face, that the question was so challenging that Obama had no choice but to hide behind his waffle.

It is not evidence of a trend. It is not proof of a character flaw. Not all breakfasts are moments of great significance.

The dude was eating and didn't really want to answer a question. The end.

You would think that in a relatively educated and literate nation such as our own, that a guy eating a waffle on a campaign stop wouldn't engender a great deal of interest.

You would think that we'd be smart enough to realize that any one of a million different things is probably more important than a dude eating a motherfucking waffle.

We are not.

We, or at least some of us, really do appear to be that stupid. Folks are analyzing Barack Obama's waffle incident. They are talking about the ramifications of Wafflegate. Some are interpreting it as evidence of bigger things. They are casting it as a piece in a puzzle they've already solved.

Rooty tooty, fresh and fruity. Barack Obama's desire to eat a little waffle is news.

One of the most common strategies for issue-fying the waffle is to point out that Obama is ducking questions not only at breakfast, but all the time. After all, he hasn't made himself available to press for 10 whole days. Wafflegate is proof that he's hiding, people argue.

Of course, he's also spent the last 10 days working his ass of all over Pennsylvania, which cuts into available chit-chat time.

Oh, and there's also the oft-forgotten fact that he HAS made himself available to the media. In fact, he's given DOZENS of interviews in the past ten days. He's been sitting down with local PA papers and media outlets instead of jabbering with the national press. Why? My guess is that the Obama campaign thinks they'll get better Pennsylvania mileage out of Pennsylvania media than by screwing around with the nationals. They might be wrong about that, but it's a mighty stretch to claim he's completely inaccessible.

Let's look at this way. Angelina Jolie's breasts are inaccessible to me. So are her buttocks. She won't give me access. If I ran into her at IHOP and asked her to allow me to caress her breasts and buttocks, she might politely rebuke me, asking why she can't just eat her waffle. On the other hand, if I were Brad Pitt and the two of us were home alone, I'd stand a good chance of spending the night going to town on Angelina. My point: access is all about who you are and where you are.

Anyone who is currently pretending the waffle incident matters should immediately screw his or her fucking head on straight, apologize to every single person they've insulted by pretending this story is meaningful and then place their hand in a hot waffle iron for 30 seconds.

That includes, but is not limited to, the following:

Jeralyn at TalkLeft calls it a "waffle controversy" and claims that the breakfast tale is a big deal because Obama doesn't give reporters a lot of access. That might be because they're a bunch of assholes who won't let a guy eat a waffle, huh?

Delilah Boyd wonders what kind of candidate would "pitch a hissy fit" over a question right before a primary? I wonder what kind of blogger would pitch a hissy fit over the guy wanting to eat his waffle and who'd give him a "waffler of the year award".

Don Singleton hints that Obama might have wanted to eat his breakfast because the question was just too tough. Maybe it wasn't hunger, but an inability to answer. Considering the question was about Jimmy Carter's sit-down with Hamas and the fact that Obama has remarked on the matter and is fully aware of it, that seems unlikely. Nice try, Don. Go eat your waffle.

Liberal Rapture calls Obama a man-child and argues that one must make a choice between waffles and running for office. Here's an idea... Maybe a guy could eat a waffle, wipe the syrup from the corner of his mouth and then go back to campaigning. Just an idea, "numb nuts".

The Confluence asks, "Did the “bitter” gun-toting Archie Bunkers hear him whining like that?" No, they didn't. They were too busy eating their waffles, a courtesy usually extended to all at a diner.

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By request... Examining the wit and genius of Taylor Marsh... There isn't much of either...

2008-04-21T13:00:00.001-07:00

This one's by request.

I wrote a miniature biography of "talk radio host" (cue uproarious laughter) Taylor Marsh. Later, I resonded to her bullshit implications that I'm a "hate diarist" and a "gnat" who's "plumbing" her past as part of anti-Hillary McCarthyism. I suffered through Taylor Marsh's self-published vanity project of a "book" and offered a review. I became an illustrator after receiving veiled threats of future litigation because I appropriated her Glamour Shot-like photos.

I advised people to counteract her attempt to break out of the vanity radio box when she begged her zombie nation of commenters to contact Air America and XM Radio on her behalf. I've mentioned the fact that her blog and her childlike analysis are symptomatic of the worst kind of disease riddling our body politic.

Every time I discuss former Queen of the Personal Ads, at least a handful of her readers complain that I'm just hatin'. They say that my criticisms of the beauty-queen-turned-podcaster are nothing more than ad hominen attacks. Well, they don't really say that because the closest they get to Latin is when one of them identifies the local GED testing center as an alma mater. In any case, they claim I'm all insult and no substance.

Guess what? They're almost right. I haven't spent a lot of time pinpointing justifications for my position that Taylor Marsh is a substandard punditry. I sort of assumed it was obvious, I guess. Apparently, though, it isn't clear to everyone just how hackerific her ramblings really are. So, I'm going to take one recent post from Marsh and comment on it.

I doubt any of the Marshzombies will suddenly change their minds about Taylor after reading this. And I do understand the whole "why waste your time?" thing. Marsh backers sometimes seem more like followers of Marshall Applewhite than the former Michelle Marshall. I'm no Seneca, but "optimum est pati quod emendare non possis" is reasonably persuasive. Nonetheless, they did ask for it. It's the least I can do. Who knows, it might be fun, too. Oh, and I did the Latin thing just to be obnoxious.

I didn't feel a need to cherry pick the most idiotic possible post to review. I wanted to keep it fair. I picked a number between 1 and 10 and then cruised on over to Taylor Marsh's site. I designated the top post as "1" and counted along until I hit my magic number, "3". Red meat, kids. Red meat.

Headline: Obama Blows Democratic Party's McSame Strategy

This is rich. In case you haven't read this Marshit, I'll give you a handy dandy summary before working through it in greater detail:

Democrats should be pissed off at Barry Obama because he said that each of the three remaining candidates would be a better option than George W. Bush. Taylor believes that the big Democratic strategy for November hinges upon painting McCain as a Bush clone. Thus, mentioning that McCain may be a little less fucked in the head than George W. is a strategic error of the highest order.

No, seriously. That's the argument. Wow! I knew this would be easy, but this is almost TOO easy, don't you think? Let's take a closer look at the wit and wisdom of the blogosphere's favorite vanity author and purchaser of AM radio time, shall we?

Originally, I thought about doing a line-by-line dissection. I realized that was going to be a little too time-consuming. Plus, I'd hate to have Marsh get all worked up about having the full text of her goofery republished elsewhere. So, I invite you to read her whole crazy post on your own. Here are a few of the many reasons her post is weaker than 3.2 beer at the ballpark:

ONE: SHE PRETENDS AS IF HER UNDERLYING ASSUMPTION IN GOSPEL TRUTH

Marsh's argument relies on the presupposition that the "McSame" strategy is a good one. If you don't first accept the premise that comparing Bush to McCain is a winning plan, there's absolutely no reason to get hacked at Barry for saying that McCain might not be quite as bad as W.

As it turns out, there is reason to doubt that linking McCain to Bush might not be the most ingenious vote-gathering ploy in history.

First, it's going to be a tougher sell than people might think. Although the video from the DNC does a cute job of painting John and George as lovers, there are substantive disagreements between the two guys. McCain has made a point of reminding people of this differences, too. Now, you could argue that McCain's distancing efforts aren't compelling, but it isn't too hard to imagine him avoiding the Bush albatross around his neck--especially when Bushies are constantly criticizing him as being out of lockstep with the conservative march.

Second, it's not clear that linking Bush and McCain will actually result in a win. No matter how much we all might believe that W. is a complete failure of a President, the guy has demonstrated an ability to hang in there. He wasn't all that hip when he personally beat Kerry. It's not a certainty that Bush would be an anchor if tied to McCain. It might even help him get a little bit of that currently up-in-the-air conservative support.

Third, it's not really all that honest. McCain and Bush do hold similar perspectives on some very important issues. They are not long last fraternal twin brothers, though. Yes, McCain has flipped a little toward the Bush side on a handful of popular conservative issues. However, I don't think it's intellectually honest to argue that a McCain White House would be a twin of a Bush White House.

Fourth, even if it is a winning plan, it isn't the only winning plan. There's no reason to assume that undermining the McSame strategy spells inevitable Democratic doom.

That's the first error in Marsh's post. She assumes the "paint 'em with the same brush" is a sure thing winner. It isn't. Even IF you believe it is, however, her argument is still faulty.

TWO: OBAMA'S COMMENTS DON'T DECIMATE THE MCSAME APPROACH, ANYWAY

If you DO think that pairing McCain and Bush is a fine plan, there's no reason to go nutty over the fact that Obama said McCain would do a better job as POTUS than GWB. Saying someone would do a better job than George Bush sets the bar very low. My dead uncle would probably do a better job than George BUsh, even though he's been buried for ten years. Your dog has a 50/50 chance of fucking up things less than George Bush. We could elect a former porn site editor with delusions of grandeur into the White House and she'd poll with higher approval numbers than GWB.

Saying that McCain is better than bush is like saying it might be marginally better to have someone kick the shit out of you for an hour than it would be to have them stab you seven times in the midsection with a rusty chef's knife. It isn't a compliment of great significance. "Hey, John McCain, I think you'd be a better President than randomly selected drunken hobo with a schizophrenic disorder." Wow, I'm sure he'll take that compliment with a smile, right?

It's not necessary to completely demonize John McCain to criticize him effectively. There are plenty of things not to like about John McCain. If you believe that Bush and McCain are political twins, you can still make that argument without refusing to recognize that Johnny Mac might be a little better than George W.

Those, like Marsh, who get indignant and offended by a willingness on Obama's part to admit that McCain is not the bastard son of Hitler and Ilse Koch, bother me. It's as if they fear any insertion of reason and perspective into politics will somehow render their candidates and messages impotent. I don't think that's the case and I tend to believe that the instinctive desire to portray political rivals as the embodiment of pure evil is one reason why voter apathy is so high. Instead of turning down the bullshit heat as a way of inviting people back to the political table, the kneejerks believe that cranking the burner up to "high" will somehow attract a crowd.

THREE: MARSH IS BASICALLY ADVOCATING DISHONESTY

According to Taylor Marsh, we need Obama mentioning that anyone would do better than George Bush as much as we do a "whole [sic] in the head". Apparently, we should avoid the truth if it might hurt a little bit. Anything to win, right Monster fans?

Look, McCain would be a better President than George Bush. A LOLCat would be a better President than George Bush. It's okay to know that. It's okay to say that.

There is a reason why McCain draws a relatively high level of Independent support compared to most Republicans. There is a reason McCain is often considered a moderate Republican. It's because he's not as fucked up as Gorgeous George. No, I'm not campaigning for Johnny Mac here. I'm just willing to admit that he is less of a buffoon that Bush. Why am I comfortable saying that? Uh, because it's true.

And even if you don't think there's a beam of daylight between Dubya and John, it seems very unlikely that McCain could duplicate the fuckuppery of the Bush Administration even if he tried. Assembling a cast of dimwits (Ashcroft, Gonzalez, Rumsfeld, Cheney, et al.) requires a perfect storm of bad luck and weak decision making. It's a one-of-a-kind freakshow of idiocy.

Marsh is basically arguing that it's more important to keep a questionable strategy intact for November than it is to let a little honesty slip into our political discourse. That's a reprehensible position to take. Even those who do see two peas in a pod when they look at Bush and McCain know, deep in their hearts, that Johnny is a slightly better guy than John.

Don't believe me? Ask Taylor's fan club. Her commenters are always jabbering about how they'll vote McCain if things don't break their way. Unless these "Democrats" are willing to sign up for a so-called Bush third term, they recognize that McCain isn't THAT bad. Either that, or they are just so anti-Obama that they've lost all control over their faculties. I suppose it's probably the second option, so I'll just leave it at that.

I simply can't understand why someone would argue that it's better to tell a lie or to commit a lie of omission than it is to be honest. I can't understand why anyone would value ends over means in that way when our current messes can so often be traced back to an unwillingness to confront issues, people and ideas in a way that keeps our intellectual credibility intact. That's the Marsh argument, though. Demonize McCain like crazy, even if you have to sidestep the truth, because it's a "winning strategy". Who else feels nauseated by this Monster-like thinking?

FOUR: MARSH'S HYPOCRISY WITH RESPECT TO PARTY LOYALTY

There's another reason Marsh's goofball missive is startling. It is wildly hypocritical. Follow along with me here, kids...

Marsh is willing to roast Barry O. because he won't play along with what she perceives as being the DNC's plan. You gotta be on the same page with the party to keep McCain out of the White House. Yet Marsh has no problem whatsoever with Clinton's past intimations that McCain would be a better President (or at least a more qualified President) than Barack Obama. In Taylor's world, it's okey dokey to slice the neck of one of your own party's most significant figures but it's not okay to deviate from the DNC anti-Republican plan.

You can fuck each other over with hot pokers, Barry and Hillary. That's consistent with party loyalty standards. Just don't admit that McCain might not be as bad as Bush. THAT is unacceptable. That seems to be the wildly hypocritical loyalty argument she's making.

FIVE: MARSH'S BABBLE IGNORES PAST CLINTON STATEMENTS

Coming down on Obama for saying that McCain isn't as putrid as Bush completely ignores past statements made by Hillary Clinton, who comes out smelling like a rose in the Marsh post. Taylor arguest that Clinton's past comments about McCain only say that he'd be a formidable opponent--not that he'd be better than George Bush. That's enough of a difference for her to attack Barack and to lovingly caress the snakes that make up Monster's hair. It's also bullshit.

Clinton has told the world that McCain has crossed the Commander in Chief threshhold. She's consistently tried to portray herself and John McCain as the two legitimate contenders while Barack is, in her view, a guy who once gave a speech. The combined weight of Hillary's comments about John McCain indicate that she knows he's not a complete fuck up ala George W. Bush.

To pretend as though her past remarks and Bill's infamous "two people who love this country" crap, and assorted other examples of her campaign indicating that John McCain is not a slobbering piece of shit are somehow less at odds with the McSame strategy is the worst kind of bullshit cherry picking.

Hillary Clinton has had some halfway decent things to say about McCain while, sometimes in the same speeches, lambasting Bush. There's a reason why that happens. McCain isn't as bad as Bush. He might be bad, but he's not as bad. Everyone with a brain knows that. Too pretend as though it must be kept a secret is silliness. Pretending as if Hillary has somehow worked diligently to protect the party strategy by not clearly stating "McCain may be slightly less damaging than our current putz" is ignorant in the truest sense of the word.

SIX: ELEVEN FUCKING WORDS, PEOPLE.

The McSame post is all about the way Obama is hosing the Dems by not hating on McCain strongly enough. Although Marsh lays out this childlike argument with her usual level of acumen (not a compliment), she glosses over Obama's actual remarks. Oh, she provides them, but she only plays with the part she likes. Here's what Barry said:

"You have a real choice in this election. Either Democrat would be better than John McCain," Obama said to cheers from a rowdy crowd in central Pennsylvania. Then he said: "And all three of us would be better than George Bush."

She's obsessed with those last eleven words. Oh, by the way, those eleven words were just about the only part of Obama's presentation that had anything to do with drawing a comparison between McCain and Bush. He didn't expound upon this notion that McCain was better than Dubya for hours and hours. We're talking about eleven words. Oh, and those eleven words came right after eight words that actually DO put the comment into perspective.

"Either Democrat would be better than John McCain."

Yeah, it really sounds like Barry wants a job on the Straight Talk Express, doesn't it? He didn't give a pro-McCain speech. He gave a pro-Obama speech, which is what you'd expect from a guy who's campaigning. He was nice enough, however, to give Hillary a little thumbs up, though. I think that's sort of nice to him considering that Hillary's fucked up rant about the dreaded eleven words were nothing more than a double-barrelled attack on Barack and John McCain.

Obama: "Either Democrat would be better than John McCain."

Monster (after criticizing McCain): "We need a nominee who will take on John McCain, not cheer on John McCain, and I will be that nominee."

Who's "on the same page" with the Democratic party again, Taylor?

And who really thinks it's a good idea to get so worked up over a single sentence in a longer speech that isn't inaccurate or dishonest? Is that really the kind of politics we want?

It is in Taylor's marsh, I guess.

Me? I'm looking for something a little better. And something that makes a little more sense.

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Hillary Clinton, meet karma... It's a bitch (too)...

2008-04-18T16:46:00.001-07:00

Instant Karma's gonna get you,
Gonna knock you right on the head,
You better get yourself together,
Pretty soon you're gonna be --

Whoops, Monster, it's already here.

Bad idea: Running around attacking your opponent for a whiny attitude and elitism right before you get busted making excuses for losses and claiming that a core part of your party's support comes from crazed activists who don't represent your old-school approach.

Worse idea: Coming right out and saying that a huge bloc of your party consists of crazy thugs who overrun caucuses and intimidate people.

Even worse idea: Fibbing about that bloc's positions on major issues and contradicting your earlier statements to said organization when it happens to have a rocket-fast response rate and the ability to contact membership via emails, etc. within seconds. The part about betraying your own "back in the day" stuff isn't too bright, either.

Worst idea: When that organization you're bitching about started as a means of saving your husband's political viability (and, thus, by extension your own).

Hillary, you can't beat the crap out of MoveOn.org because you're losing. It isn't going to play worth a shit and it makes you look like a hopelessly outmoded old-timer who longs for the days when the fat cigar chompers made the call (curiously, they wouldn't have had room for you at the bargaining table in those smoky rooms, woman).

Please note: I'm not a MoveOn.org kind of guy, personally. Sometimes, I think they are right on... Other times, they're way too silly. I just wanted to let you know that I'm here fighting Monster, not hacking for MO.

What in the world you thinking of,
Laughing in the face of love,
What on earth you tryin' to do,
It's up to you, yeah you.

Instant Karma's gonna get you,
Gonna look you right in the face,
Better get yourself together darlin',
Join the human race.

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Barack Obama flips the monster off, they say... The bird is the word... An illustrated lesson in flipping people off...

2008-04-18T13:50:00.000-07:00

This is what it looks like when a kid flips you off.

This is what it might look like if Jesus flipped you the bird.

This is what it looked like when Johnny Cash gave the finger.

Girls know how to flip you off.

This crazy fucker dressed up like Burger King and showed the world at least 50 different ways to give the finger.

This is what a flip off looks like.

This is what George Bush looks like when flipping someone off.

Sexy finger.

Evangeline Lily finger.

Flaming finger.

An artist's interpretation of Taylor Marsh giving someone the bird.

Again, it's so easy a baby can do it.

Jerry Lee Lewis flipping the bird... In stereo!

A drawing.

This is what flipping someone off looks like, just in case you still don't get it.

This is NOT someone flipping the bird.

No, no, no. I don't care if you're so batshit crazyblind that you still think that was Barack Obama flipping Hillary Clinton off, it didn't really happen. Look again. Not a flip off.

Two fingers. Unless you're doing a two-hander, the flip off has one finger extended.

Having an itch is not the same as calling out Monster for being a bitch. Yes, that rhymes. Again, just in case you're half as delusional as the Taylor Marsh fan club who has been pissing their Depends over this, it is not the bird. Let's compare to a real flip off one more time so you can see the difference.

Here are a list of people who are so far gone that they still don't get it. These are the freaky goofs who think Barack Obama flipped off Hillary Clinton. Sweet Baby Jesus flipping off the wise man who brought him myrrh, these people are beyond help. Know the stupid so that you don't accidentally take them seriously at some point in the future.

Garlin Guage wonders if Obama "overplayed his hand". I wonder if Garlin knows he's a dipshit?

The Tribunal Blog says it was "intentional" and draws a parallel with Obama's perspective on small town hicks. I say The Tribunal Blog is not rad, hip, cool or awsome [sic].

Strategic Geography thinks Barry was giving the bird because "it is such an amorphous, non-committal, unmanly flip off, just like everything else in his campaign". StratGeo not only opines about that which is manly, he also writes a lot about Andrew Sullivan. Just sayin'...

Radical Left is disturbed by Obama's fingers(s), citing it as "another example of his demeaning attitude toward Clinton and women in general". Me? I'm disturbed at the idea that blind Max Blunt might have a driver's license.

NoQuarter jumped to attack Obama, saying that flip off "is undeniable — I have asked several people to confirm — that he indeed did give Hillary the finger, and it’s clear from the audience reaction that he did so." That's what happens when you seek confirmation from the mentally ill, though.

Theodore's World studied Obama's hand movements and concluded that "he uses his index finger constantly not his middle finger , so this made it even more obvious when he did this". Bonus points for Teddy Whiz Kid, who also busted out the tried and true "B. Hussein Obama" in his asshattish little blogospheric contribution.

There are many others, but I want to mention just one more... The inimitable Ms. Taylor Marsh. She says it was "unmistakable". Unmistakable. God have mercy on her fucked up soul.

This is for all of them...

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Hillary Clinton announces two-monster creature feature... Selling fear again, with a twist....

2008-04-17T07:11:00.000-07:00

Only Hillary Monster Clinton could combine perverse creativity with an absolute lack of decency to turn the politics of fear inward onto itself. Hillary isn't warning of an outside evil--she's on the klaxon warning us that John McCain will feast on the naive, innocent flesh of Barack Obama if given the chance.

It's a bizarre proof that even relatively bright people can't figure out very simple things.

Godzilla vs. Monster Zero
Alien vs. Predator
Dracula vs. Frankenstein
Freddy vs. Jason

Clinton vs. McCain?

Hillary Clinton is a fucking monster and her latest attempt to gather the support amongst rank and file voters and slow-to-announce superdelegates is to warn them that John McCain is a monster, too. Who better to fight an evil monster hellbent on the acquisition of power than another hell-spawned creature with zero conscience, right?

Is this really where we are after 15 months of campaigning? Sweet Baby Jesus playing air guitar while listening to Canned Heat on vinyl, people are sick.

It was bad enough when the media decided that actually talking about boring stuff like real policy and the direction of the country had to take a backseat to handicapping elections as if they were the 6th race at Evangeline Downs. Now, the politicians themselves are pitching themselves based on their own self-serving prognostication "skills".

If you needed one more reason to think Hillary Clinton is the embodiment of every fucked up aspect of American politics, last night's bizarre performance on ABC should've done the trick.

Monster say Barack okay. Monster say Hillary better. Me better because McCain Monster strong. Must be strong to fight McCain Monster. Barack no monster. Me mightiest monster. Hillary survive many monster battles. Monster is fighter. Monster eat brains.

Three words: Fuck you, Monster.

Clinton's big sales pitch is that she's been thoroughly "vetted" because Republicans and sane Democrats have hated her for decades. Thus, she has built up some kind of resistance to their mean-spirited attacks. She can handle those nasty RNC bastards. They've kicked her around for years and she's still standing. Obama, she warns, is a bit of an unknown. Sure, he's okay with us, but what's going to happen when the rabid devil dogs of the Republican hate machine start trying to chew off the very kneecaps she's been trying to shatter, huh?

If you fear Republicans, vote Hillary.

The politics of fear used to be about mobilizing voters around external threats. If you don't vote for me, the evil Ninjas are going to sneak into your closets and execute your children. If you don't vote for me, black guys are going to steal your kids at 3:00 a.m. while on a work furlough from the prison. Vote for me or something really fucking scary will make you die. It's a simple and time-tested bullshit equation.

Only Hillary Monster Clinton could combine perverse creativity with an absolute lack of decency to turn the politics of fear inward onto itself. Hillary isn't warning of an outside evil--she's on the klaxon warning us that John McCain will feast on the naive, innocent flesh of Barack Obama if given the chance.

It's a bizarre proof that even relatively bright people can't figure out very simple things. Clinton has been getting her pants suited ass handed to her on a regular basis from sea to shining sea because she's been unable to clue into the fact that a pretty fat portion of the electorate is sick and tired of attack politics, lying for power and general sleaziness. Now that her shot-snorting back is against the wall you'd think that she'd come to her senses and make an effort to show the world that maybe, just maybe, she isn't a monstrous bitch who's way to easy to hate.

No dice. She's doing the exact opposite. She's doing more of what put her in trouble in the first place. It's the most counter-intuitive thing I can imagine. If you're losing to hope and an idea that our politics can change it just doesn't make much sense to argue vociferously that the general election will inevitably be a hopeless and senseless bloodbath or that the only way for D-people to secure the highest office is by turning the old school politics up a notch.

Hillary is now selling the idea of a Monster when the voters have clearly expressed a preference for a Van Helsing.

The only possible way to sell that particularly malignancy--that you're worth a vote because you're the right Monster for the job--is to make people pee their pants at the prospect of facing a Republican Monster later. It's sick and wrong.

It's sick because it really is the same old shitty song at a higher volume. It's another chorus of politics as bloodsport. Another invitation to pick a candidate because their better at playing a noxious game.

It's dressed up in "fighter" lingo. That's just what we need, isn't it? We have a country with a government that seems to have about a 2% success rate on anything it tries to accomplish and the best way to fix the mess is to declare a neverending war on those who don't share your sentiments? Fuck persuading the other guy. Just needle him to death with bullshit, disable him and force something through with no regard for decency, honesty or honor. Awesome plan. It's really been working lately, huh?

Oh, and it's wrong because Barry O. has done a pretty damn good job of proving that you don't necessarily have to be a complete slimeball to engender support, increase interest and snare votes a-plenty. If the Monster Plan worked, Hillary wouldn't be on the losing end of this nomination process, would she?

I was watching John McCain at an AP function the other day. He was talking about his willingness to sit down with the Democratic candidate to try to come up with a way to decrease the influence of the 527s. McCain was one of the only Republicans who didn't sport wood after watching the Swiftboat freaks turn John Kerry into Ho Chi Minh's illegitimate lovechild. McCain promises a sincere and decent general election.

He won't be able to deliver with perfection. Not even close. Surrogates will go nuts. Hardliners will freak out. The media, unable to resist the opportunity to sink their vampiric fangs into the meat of make-believe scandal, will make things uglier than they need to be.

That being said, I don't think we're going to see the Rovian attack mutts this time around. That isn't McCain's game. Don't get me wrong, I don't think he's Mr. Awesome. I do, however, think he's a character cut or three above Geo. W. Bush.

And now that he's on record about not being a Monster, it'll be tough for him to get too nasty if he changes his mind. That's another reason why Hillary's scary campfire story is so lame. If there's ever been a time where the Democrats don't necessarily need an evil genius to duke it out in a Godzilla vs. Mothra spectacle, this is the time.

So, we have a doomed candidate who's only strategy seems to be positioning herself as a big enough asshole to battle another giant asshole even though that plan doesn't work and there may not be another asshole to fight.

And this is where we are after 15 months. I'll return to a simple three-word comment to summarize.

Fuck you, Monster.

Now everybody, let's do the Monster Mash!

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Taylor Marsh wants you to send emails... Sounds like a good idea to me!

2008-04-15T12:55:00.000-07:00

Just when I thought I could lay off Taylor Marsh...

Talk radio personality (not) Taylor Marsh is begging her intellectually bankrupt, pro-Monster mini fan club to send emails to the folks at Air America and XM satellite radio. She's hoping that a wave of "please put Taylor on the radio" missives will somehow convince the network to give her a show.

Now, as you may remember from this little bio of Taylor Marsh, she portrays herself as a radio host when, in reality, she is a Hill-shill podcaster whose only actual on-air experience consists of buying time on a Nevada vanity station in hopes of convincing someone she deserves mic time. That experiment, obviously, failed.

I'm doing my part to keep the streak of Marsh radio disappointment alive.

I'm following Taylor's advice. I'm going to write a little bit to Air American and XM. I doubt my sentiments are the ones she had in mind when she hit "publish" on her Begging for Airtime post, though.

You, wise reader may want to send an email to the network, too. Let them know how you feel about Ms. Marsh's punditry talents. Tell Air America about her "progressive" outlook. Let XM know what you think about her loyal fan base (need material? check this out).

Please note that I'm not saying you should diss Marsh because she is unqualified. I'm not saying she should stay an off-air personality because her "book" was published by a vanity press in exchange for cash. I'm not arguing that you should advise AA and XM that writing personal ad hints for an alt weekly doesn't constitute legitimate journalistic experience. Nope.

I personally think her resume-inflation and telling of tall tales is bothersome, but that (alone) is certainly no reason to keep her away from all live microphones. The reason is because she writes crazy things, has created and encourages a community of Hillzombies who say remarkably distasteful things and lacks the analytical skills to do a good job. The "make believe" thing is mere icing on a cake of crap.

You can contact Air America here.
You can contact XM here.

Wondering about the cartoons? Here's why I don't use real photos of Ms. Marsh.

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Maybe someone is figuring this shit out... Hillary's speaking gigs not working out so well...

2008-04-15T12:09:00.000-07:00

Two interesting stories. They almost make me wonder if maybe folks are beginning to see through the bullshit.

If a tree falls in the forest... You get the idea. Does this actually count as a speech if no one bothered to listen?

No you can't! At least a few people at this speaking engagement were ready to answer what Hillary mistakenly assumed was a purely rhetorical question. Whoops, Monster!

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The amazing true story of bitter small towns... John Brown explains rural America...

2008-04-15T11:43:00.000-07:00

All of this talk about Barack Obama and his sense that rural Americans might be a bitter... Yet all of the people talking about it on TV have never spent more than few hours in a small town at any one time.

I know a lot of people are confused about small town America, so I thought I'd take a few minutes to give you a firsthand perspective on the rural folk of America. I live in the suburbs of Kansas City these days and I can't really claim to be a small towner at the moment but, in the immortal but grammatically awkward words of John Cougar, "No, I cannot forget where it is that I come from".

I grew up in small Kansas towns. I completed my undergraduate degree in a small midwestern town. I was 23 before I lived anywhere with a population greater than 15,000 people. I know small town. I am small town.

And I'd like to tell all of you city slickers who are wringing your hands over the apparent insult Barry O. lobbed at rural America that he took it easy on us. Flyover country has an ugly side. It's not all amber waves of grain and Average Joes lovin' freedom. Those good simple folk who are credited with being the backbone of the USA aren't any more wonderful than anyone else. People in small towns have strained and silly political views born of a relatively isolated history, fear, ignorance and, yes, bitterness.

I met a black person for the first time when I was 7 or 8 years old. I remember the day his family moved in on our block and he walked over to the little ball diamond across the street next to the park with his glove in hand, wanting to play in our neighborhood 4-on-4 baseball game. Always short on personnel, we let him play. It took about 10 minutes before he left running and crying. That's because it took about 9 minutes before one of the kids decided to take out their baseball frustrations by calling the kid a retarded nigger and trying to start a fight.

I was fortunate enough to have the world's most wonderful parents. I told them what happened that night and they made damn sure that kind of language wasn't going to be part of my vocabulary. They asked me if I liked the kid. I said I did. The next afternoon, I was marched down the block to the kid's house. My mom helped his mom unpack and we boys played catch in the backyard.

The family was gone before the school year started. The idea of a quiet life in smalltown America seemed like a good idea when they made the move. The ugliness, unfortunately, made the reality less than tolerable. They moved away.

About five years later, now living in a different small town in Kansas, I learned a little bit more about the fine upstanding people of rural America. There were a few black households there and they consisted primarily of older people. The only black man in town of working age was John. He loaded and unloaded supplies at the lumber yard. No one called him John. The whole fucking town knew that guy as Nigger John. Some meant it in a way that was just as ugly as it sounds. Some did it out of ignorance. Almost everyone did it, though.

African-Americans were niggers. Mexicans were wetbacks. Kids who didn't play sports were faggots. If anyone in these little bastions of American tradition knew a Jew, they would've called him a kike. People came home from trips to the city or vacations and talked about all of the lazy niggers, sneaky chinks and thieving beaners. Everyone hated the Japanese, who were hellbent on taking over the USA by selling us Walkmans and Toyotas. Working women were an unfortunate economic reality that flew in the face of everything right. That was small town Kansas in the 70s and 80s. The 1970s and 1980s, not the 1870s and 1880s.

A lot can change in 20 to 30 years, right? Not as much as you'd like to think. The few black students at the community college still can't really hope to be part of the town. The Latino families are scapegoated for every economic ill, even though they're the only thing propping up what's left of the town economy.

No, I cannot forget where it is that I come from. I took a hunter's safety class with the other kids. I learned to shoot and I even went hunting a few times. I never really took to it. Pheasant and dove aren't THAT tasty and standing around in cold autumn winds waiting to see something to kill didn't excite me. It excited others, though.

The parking lot at my little high school featured pick-up trucks with gun racks visible through the back windshield and shells in the glove box. Like many people, I accepted it as part of the midwest lifestyle. It was, to me, a weird hobby, but it wasn't anything objectionable. By my senior year, though, I noticed a strange affinity for guns that went well beyond a sportsman's affection. I was both amused and a little freaked out when discussions in government class and elsewhere revealed a genuine fear that "they" would take "our" guns away. I started to really understand just what those "you can have my gun when you rip it from my cold, dead hands" bumper stickers were about.

I didn't go to church regularly, but I went to catechism classes and I was confirmed. It was more about keeping my grandparents happy than it was about my faith or the faith of my parents. Many people did go to church, though. Some went several times a week. They prayed and they prayed and they learned about "them"--those evil outside forces who wanted to steal those guns away and who thought it was okay to let all of those "different" people do their own things.

Taught the fear of Jesus in a small town. That's what the song says. It's accurate. Religion was a lot about love and doing good things. There was, however, an almost equal measure of fire, brimstone, bigotry, arch-conservatism and intolerance. You gotta take the bad with the good in a small town.

Now, let me stick up for my former friends, classmates and their parents. They operated under something of a siege mentality. They feared otherness and bent over backwards to fend it off at every turn because they knew, on some almost primal level, that change was finally catching up with the hinterlands. The old, controlled predictable world that had escaped so much of the 60s tumult was living on borrowed time and, reflexively, they protected what they knew and grew up with. I don't blame them. Cognitive dissonance is a bitch and a recognition that something that was "part of them" wasn't going to stay that way was undoubtedly frightening.

These small towns weren't filled with Klansmen, right wing militias and far-right wing evangelicals with axes to grind. These were little places filled with relatively uneducated people who were accustomed to living relatively simple lives just like the ones their families had lived for generations. As much as anything, they probably just wanted to be left alone. Times change. Economies change. Technologies change. The world changes. And change is hard. Very hard.

So regular people did the regular thing. The stood their ground and they stuck up for the things they knew and the traditions they held. Those traditions were white, outmoded, and "conservative" in the worst form of the word.

If you told them that old ghost story about the "jigaboo house"--an abandoned shack outside of town on a hilltop, haunted by the ghost of a crazy old black guy who would hang you from a tree and dance a jig while you choked to death--was a bit on the racist side, you were out of line. If you didn't laugh at your 5th grade math teacher's joke about black kids jumping on a bed and sticking to the ceiling because of their velcro hair, you were out of place. If you didn't want to go shooting it was suspicious. If you didn't want to join the prayer club it was going to be hard to be popular.

Time has passed and things are changing in those small towns. Those who cling to their versions of faith, their love of firearms and sick perspectives based on skin color, however, do so even more tightly these days. It makes sense.

John Cougar (I don't think he reclaimed Mellencamp at that time), sung about the farm crisis and the loss of family land and tradition in the 80s because it was happening. And while grandma was on the front porch with a bible in her hand and the scarecrow was covered in blood, people were getting more and more worried. And more and more bitter.

My generation is probably the last one that can really remember all of the "bus kids" working on the farm during harvest and bustling business at the Plainsman Supply Store. I was there for the tail end of small town Americana. Our grocery store didn't stock that "weird" Chinese food and tacos were an exotic meal. We had two car dealerships--one for Chevrolets and one for Fords. Kids played outside all day without parental supervision and we walked to school.

I just finished sharing a lot about the ugly parts of rural America, but it had a fantastic upside. Unemployment was rare and usually temporary. People were generous. There was a sense of community. It was safe and being poor meant you didn't go out to eat at the "good restaurant" on weekends--not that you were filing for bankruptcy or losing your home. The sun was bright, the grass was green and we were happy. It was, in many respects, the midwestern fantasy city folk sometimes imagine. But it was dying and the fear, in retrospect, was palpable.

Imagine what's happened in the intervening 20+ years. Family farms really are a relic. Wal-Marts crush downtowns. There are few new businesses. The "good restaurant" shut down 5 years ago. Everyone shops 50 miles away. There aren't many people moving into town and the departure rate continues to increase. The paper isn't really a daily anymore and everyone is sitting around watching cable TV wondering how in the fuck they got so poor, small and inconsequential.

The small town is suffering, the people are pissed and you don't have to be a particularly empathetic person to understand why. You don't have to be a sociologist to sense the bitterness--especially among those who remember better days. You don't have to be Barack Obama to know that these small town people are pissed off. They had relatively modest goals and fell short. They had relatively simple dreams and won't realize them.

And we know what happens when you corner someone. He or she lashes back in defense of turf. When the only things left to defend are attitudes because the substance has already eroded, you see a bunch of ugly. "They" took the farms. "They" took the money. "They" took the kids who moved on to greener pastures. "They" took the jobs, the downtown, the civic pride and the Sunday dinner restaurant. All that's left is the attitude and culture which, unfortunately, involves shotguns, the holy ghost and an undercurrent of bigotry.

That ugly underside of flyover country also, unfortunately, holds the easiest things to exploit in tough times. You can rally support to try to legislate the reality of homosexuals away. You can rev people up with the spectre of a New World Order that wants to take away the gun your daddy gave you. You can exploit the godlessness of modern America, blaming it for all the evils, foreclosures and changes. Nigger John wasn't uppity like Obama. Those beaners are ruining this country. Everyone is out to get small town America. They know it's true because change, history and, yes, even governmental error has fucked them seven ways to Saturday.

Does this mean that every house in middle America contains a bitter whitey who wants to turn back the clock? Of course not.

There are plenty of people who are more concerned with improvement and progress than they are in self-pity or rage. There are many people working to make things better, who understand that being pissed off can only carry you so far.

Not all small towners are bitter. Every town with only a few thousand people has a wealth of positive, forward-thinking folks. It's foolish to say that everyone from rural America is a bigoted gun nut who fears "the other". It's equally foolish, however, to pretend that many don't.

I was born in a small town. I've seen it all and had a ball in a small town. And I know it well enough to tell you that calling it out as bitter isn't necessarily wrong, elitist, effete or condescending.

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Yeah, I know... Maybe I'll do better next time...

2008-04-14T17:48:00.000-07:00

I'm sure a few people are going to read my latest screed about Hillary Rodham Clinton and will think to themselves, "This John Brown guy is just some pissed off Hillary hater. That big long post was nothing but invective!"

They'll be right.

Maybe I'll do better next time. I'll try. Promise.

Hillary Clinton: Irrelevant but impossible to ignore... A few diseased trees in a much larger forest...

2008-04-14T17:17:00.001-07:00

Forest. Forest. Must ignore tree.

Like every other halfway sane person in the world, I've been a little pissed off at Hillary Clinton since Barry O. opened his mouth and made the politically-unwise decision to attempt an explanation of why so many people are pissed off and, yes, bitter.

The Monster has been on the loose. She's running around faster than one of the infected from 28 Days Later, shrieking to all who will listen about just how damn elitist and "out of touch" Obama is.

It's the kind of fib-based, overcalculating, diseased thinking that exemplifies the Clinton campaign. After months of poo-pooing Obama's positive message and reminding us that things are so fucked up that only an experienced genius sniper-fire-dodger like The Monster can handle them, Hillary is now feigning shock that anyone might be even a teensy bit bitter about the way the economy and government have been doing their thing without offering the courtesy reach around to the "workin' folk."

Hillary four days ago: Wake up, people. Our country is up shit creek and I'm the only one with a paddle. Pregnant women are dying left and right because they don't have health insurance. Regular folks are watching the sheriff auction off their homes as we speak. Things are going to Hell in a handbasket! Do you really want to turn this clusterfuck over to a novice who isn't a Muslim, as far as I know? All Obama has is a pretty speech or two and this ultra-optimistic and utterly unrealistic belief that we can actually improve circumstances before the dawn of the next century. Give me a break. We need a little more alarmism and a lot less Norman Vincent Peale around here!

Hillary today: Can you believe my opponent? He actually thinks people are bitter over the state of America? Is he kidding? Why would anyone be bitter? Why would anyone be pissed off? Gee whiz, the people with whom I speak are optimistic, positive and excited about the future. How could anyone think things suck? Who would've put that kind of crazy idea into their heads, huh? Let's stop being smarty-pants elitists who draw attention to the bad stuff. Let's start being positive thinkers for a change!

That's a head-spinner, no?

Hillary is out doing shots, guzzling brew and playing with guns. She's reminding us that she's "in touch" with Joe Six Pack. She's running with the RNC talking points on her Blackberry, but going the extra mile by dropping her "g's" to sound more folksy.

The same Monster who tried to make sure the world jumped Obama's ass when he admitted a modicum of admiration for Ronnie Reagan's communication skills is now running to the right of Barry on every think imaginable in a crazed effort to convince Reagan Democrats that she's the Gipper without a penis.

Anyone who's still backing The Monster better be doing so out of admiration of her willingness to do absolutely anything to convince just one more person to vote for her. If you're willing to dump Obama for Clinton right now, she will personally give you a half-hour footrub and will chisel out a 10' ice sculpture of the White House for you. Toss in a donation and she'll kick her momma in the stomach, if you so desire.

If you're voting for Hillary, you are voting to reward the most obsessive and craven pursuit of power I have ever witnessed. A fighter? No. A disturbing freak. She is a zombie who, instead of feeding on the brains of others, dines on their votes.

Anyway, I get wrapped up in it all. It disgusts me, her intentional infection of the body politic with soul cancer. It intrigues me, too, because I cannot understand how anyone who pays a fucking shred of attention to all of this could possibly think she is anything short of dead inside. I get carried away with it.

I stare at the gnarled and dying trees she's planting and I lose focus on the larger forest. That's the point of this post. Hillary Clinton's campaign is a freakshow so compelling that it distracts us from the inevitable reality of her defeat.

We shouldn't give damn what she's saying, how she's saying it, how much it differs from both reality and what she said ten minutes ago, or to whom she's saying it.

Hillary Clinton isn't going to get the nomination and we all know that--at least those of us who are able to sensibly assess probabilities. The futures markets give her a slim-to-none chance. The math makes a mockery of the idea of Monster win. There's absolutely no evidence to suggest the kind of sea change she'd need among super-d's to capture the Democratic crown.

If she did defy all odds and nab the nomination, she'd get her ass handed to her anyway. Hillary Clinton cannot and will not become the President of the United States of America. She lost long ago and her lingering presence couldn't be less meaningful if her name was Alan Keyes.

But we watch and we have conniption fits because she comes at us from all angles with no memory of yesterday and no plan for tomorrow other than "kill, kill, kill". She is the evil robot monster run amok. The mindless serial killer chasing babysitters upstairs. She keeps going and going like Leatherface through the Texas woods.

It's good television and it pushes buttons, but it is nothing more than a few dried and dead trees rotting from within in a very large forest.

That being said, I'm not looking away. Here are a few other examples of just how hard it is for people to ignore the freakshow. For your additional reading pleasure (and because I know you can't resist, either):

*Bark, bugs, leaves and lizards has Hillary angst.
*Ben at Liberty and the Limits of Power sees a shameless monster, too.
*Carl Bernstein imagines a Hillary presidency--and sees an endless psychodrama.
*John Cole discusses Hillary Clinton, liar.
*Vichy Dems questions Hillary's bump and brew pedigree.
*Reign of Error has perspective and demonstrates great word efficiency.

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Clinton & McCain react to Obama's "bitterness" comments... Why they're wrong and horrible...

2008-04-12T11:46:00.000-07:00

Hey folks... If you like profanity-laced rants against the creepy little cheap-shot panderers known as Senators McCain and Clinton, this one is a keeper.

I thought my own response to the bullshitters who have feigned outrage over Barack Obama's exercise in truth-telling was pretty good. Ben at Liberty and the Limits of Power, however, kicks more ass. Here's a guy who's leaning toward McCain who's willing and able to take on the faux disgust Johnny Mac and The Monster have expressed.

An excerpt:

What Barack Obama said was not ill-chosen. It was honest. And you know how I know that? Because I've spent my entire fucking life amongst such people. This is where I come from. They are bitter. They do turn to guns and religion and anti-trade and anti-immigrant impulses to rationalize their bitterness and insecurity in a world where they can never be responsible for their own situation. It is THE problem in poor communities, white, black, and otherwise in America, in liberal democracies, but probably in illiberal areas of the world, as well.

Why are people so generally afraid of speaking such truths?

Good question, hombre. Very good question.

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Barack Obama says something true... Predictably, dumb-asses freak out... This, dear readers, is why we're probably doomed...

2008-04-11T14:45:00.001-07:00

The whole damned world is going complete apeshit crazy because Barack Obama spat on a few sacred cows during a fund-raiser in San Francisco.

I'm sure you've seen it 1,982 times already, but just in case you're new to this pitiful excuse for controversy, here's what Barry said:

You go into these small towns in Pennsylvania and, like a lot of small towns in the Midwest, the jobs have been gone now for 25 years and nothing's replaced them...

And they fell through the Clinton Administration, and the Bush Administration, and each successive administration has said that somehow these communities are gonna regenerate and they have not.

And it's not surprising then they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations.

Oh. Fuck. The world is about to end. People are pissed.

Who's going crazy? Let's take a look...

The Dummies of Faith will be in a tizzy. How dare Obama claim that religious fervor tends to increase in times of stress and difficulty! Where does he get off saying something that every social scientist to graduate from every school other than ol' Stephens College (Taylor Marsh's alma mater) has said before? Sweet baby Jesus wearing a miniskirt while drinking Schlitz, who does Barack Obama think he is saying something that makes such complete fucking sense that no one with functioning synapses would dare deny it?

Oh, he pissed off the gun-nuts, too. They're suspending their Charlton Hesston mourning to yap about the way Barry O. just insulted their honor! Who is the Hussein Obama man and why would he argue that insecurity intensifies the desire to maintain gun ownership! Where does this charlatan get off claiming that gun owners are suspicious of a government that fucks them over lubelessly on a regular schedule? Barack Obama, don't even think of believing that unemployment increases crime rates, which inspires gun ownership.

Those who feel uneasy around people whose skin is darker than a standard Mead manilla envelope are angry, too. Barack Obama actually has the gall to say that unemployed blue-collar workers without college degrees might have a tendency to blame immigrants for their woes. That's crazy talk! Who could possibly imagine that poor white guys who've lived in Levittown since Day One and are scrapping for something to replace a lost union job might be a wee bit resentful of the brown dudes with whom they're now competing for lower-paying gigs? That's just ridiculous.

Obama was an idiot for thinking that some people are anti-trade. It's not like the entire Democratic party has been telling them that the 3-M plant and the Dial soap factory shut down because of NAFTA or anything. Why on God's green earth would Obama think that people become reflexively anti-trade after hearing alleged authorities blame the nation's ills on bad trade deals? Silly stuff, huh?

Barack just pissed off the whole USA by saying something that's basically true. It might not be convenient and it certainly doesn't meet our usual standards of ass-kissing vote-pandering, but it certainly isn't untrue.

Was it insulting? I suppose a wildly religious person who hated Mexicans, despised NAFTA and believed in black helicopters for reasons unrelated to economic decline might be a bit upset. Otherwise, I don't really see the insult.

Apparently, though, a lot of people seem to think those statements are Obama's way of pissing from the jet on the heads of those who populate flyover country.

John Brown knows flyover country. I'm in Kansas. And let me tell you a secret. That shit Obama is saying about small-towners and their weirdness? It's true. Shhhhh.... I don't want my neighbor to bash my head in with his die-cast NASCAR stock car replicas tonight, but it's true.

It's not true about everyone and it isn't always that simple. It is, however, pretty damn accurate. Which is probably why it's going to hurt some feelings and cause some backlash amongst the dumb-asses who refuse to recognize their craziness and who, frankly, are accidentally dragging the country down with every stupid step they take.

For those with reading comprehension problems (and I know you're out there), please not the following:

Barry O. didn't say that every gun owner was a nutjob motivated by irrational fear or a person who perceives oppression based on hideous economic conditions who is looking to assert some sort of control over his/her life in the midst of chaos via strident pro-gun thinking. Those folks are out there, but I don't see Obama claiming that every firearm owner is a psycho.

Obama didn't say that everyone who prays to the little baby Jesus is merely taking a hit from a hookah filled with the opiate of the poor. He's just noting the reality that certain kinds of religious intolerance tend to be ratcheted up when people have to eat hot dogs and ramen noodles while discussing the collection letters they just grabbed from the mailbox night after night. He's not saying that my great aunt the nun was a byproduct of poverty or that she joined the convent because she feared for her long-term economic well-being.

Obama isn't saying that every poor white person goes bigot. He is merely recognizing that xenophobia, bigotry and discriminatory acts tend to increase when the economy is in the shitter. That's not ground-breaking and it isn't insulting.

None of this matters, though. The world is pissed off. He didn't just touch the third rail, he did so while wearing a suit made of copper wiring.

The people who smell a little bit of the ugly truth cooking in their own kitchens will get disproportionately defensive. Those who are more interested in winning votes than being honest will mock outrage. The least bright among us will believe the nonsense the TV talking heads chant as they try to make this into Something Big. It's predictable. It's pathetic. That's why we're probably doomed in the long run.

We live in a world populated by so many idiots and assholes that something true will become something ugly. Somehow, this will become proof of a Racist Obama. It will be evidence of a Godless Obama. It will be offered as an indicator that Obama spends too much time at Starbucks being effete. And some people will believe it.

And you wonder why we have such a hard time getting anything done around here.

Sometimes, the problem with Barack Obama is that he overestimates the intelligence of his secondary audience. I think he knows how cynically cruel some can be and recognizes that things will be spun ugly. He just thinks we, as a nation, will see through it. He occasionally says something so easily misinterpreted because he assumes that people will listen and interpret rationally. He really believes that enough people out there can connect the dots appropriately.

I'd like to think he's right. At moments like this, though, I have my doubts.

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Friday fun... Michelle Obama, baseball cards, David Brock and the Bataan death march...

2008-04-11T09:12:00.000-07:00

Looking for something to read or watch? Try these.

Some good. Some bad. Some WTF.

Taylor Marsh is publishing guest posts. Considering the usual quality of her work, that might sound like a good idea. It's not. Reading this is like suffering through the Bataan Death March! Please know that the author, "JB" is NOT John Brown, yours truly.

Josh Wilker deserves a book deal. With a fat cash advance, so he can go out and buy some of the vintage baseball cards he's lost through the years.

Although I think Michelle Obama is vaguely hot and although my mind does wander into areas where it probably shouldn't, I don't think blogging about her head-giving skills is a good idea. I don't think the Monster herself needs to weigh in on this and I'm probably less offended than those at the Rump Roast or Cali Tejano, but still... Let's just say there are some loons out there in Monster Country.

Am I the only guy rooting for Obama who isn't tickled pink at the idea of giving David Brock $40 million to help the Democratic cause? I have a feeling this will end ugly and silly. I don't mind going after McCain--honestly and fairly--I just have my doubts that Brock is the best choice to steward that stack of cash.

Oh, and Power to the Motherfuckin' People, kids. If you thought Mike Gravel's cover of Helter Skelter was a mega-super wacky pack, check this one out. Gravel is a nut, but I bet he's fun at parties.

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I liked Bill Clinton... Then I grew up... On selling out and lying as politics as usual...

2008-04-11T08:46:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, I thought highly of Bill Clinton. Sure, I had a few reservations about him. Overall, though, I liked the guy. Then I grew up.

It was easy to look past Bill's more highly-publicized shortcomings. He screwed around. He lied about it. I never felt his carnal urges had much of a bearing on his ability to lead the country. I could put myself in his shoes and imagine myself fibbing under oath and parsing definitions of "sexual relations" to stay out of bigger trouble. The guy bullshitted everyone about Monica and is other assignations but, even as a non-cheater, I could let it slide.

I also looked past his tendency toward triangulation and his willingness to play political hardball in pursuit of his objectives. The means were often stinky, but I often agreed with the desired ends. Even when I disagreed with him on the nuts and bolts of policy, I was willing to accept his techniques because I understood that's "how the game is played".

I even developed a kind of respect for Bill Clinton. I was impressed with the way he could weather controversy. I was astonished by his ability to charm his way out of situations that would doom most politicians.

I think I also liked Bill because the people who were "out to get him" were usually people with whom I disagreed on issues. I, like others, sort of rallied behind Clinton because I despised his foes. Those asshats were more evil and conniving than Bill, but they weren't as good at the game. And, in my estimation, they were on the wrong side.

I liked Bill Clinton. Then I grew up.

Somewhere along the line, I realized that the means were just as important--if not more important--than the ends. I lost my appetite for the fruits of the diseased tree. Winning is important, but the way one wins is just as significant.

I began to understand that the political climate that has produced our current pandering, dishonest, secretive and power-driven government exists because ideas like right, wrong, truth, cooperation and intellectual honesty are secondary to finding a way to "win". Bill Clinton was one of the best players of The Game of the Damned. He wasn't any different than the scumbags who tossed honesty overboard to go after him. He was just better at playing the game.

And that was enough for me, once upon a time. I felt compelled to choose between the jerks on my side and the jerks on the other. I made that choice. Luckily, the big enchilada among my jerks was very talented.

The problem? No one should make that choice. We shouldn't be limited to choosing between two camps of dummies. We shouldn't accept lying and sleaze as an inevitable part of our politics. We should aspire for something better. We should support the idea of government that serves our interests honestly. We must stop compromising the integrity of means in hopes of getting a desired end. If we don't, we end up with more of the same shit none of us really like in the first place.

After all, what did Bill Clinton really give America? Now that time has passed and we can assess his legacy with a little more clarity, what can we say about Bill? The Clinton years were better than the Bush years. That's a given with me. Fine. But what about the bigger picture? We have a fractured politics that continues to center itself on silly and intellectually bankrupt left/right battles that are primarily show biz designed to score votes and backers from relatively discrete small demographic groups. We have a continuing tradition of shitting on honesty and truth in pursuit of desired ends. We have a government people don't trust. Those policy initiatives? Some failed. Some worked. Many are dismantled. Some are now irrelevant as the world changes.

So many of us sold out our decency and integrity because we wanted Bill to get his policies in place. They didn't fundamentally change or better America. They weren't worth the price. We carry the baggage of individual shame for smiling at James Carville because he was on our side when Bill was on the ropes. We tote the guilt of playing a dirty game just because we wanted to win. And all it really did was to enable more of the same from the folks with whom we disagreed.

We dumped more sewage in our front yards in hopes of keeping the heating bills low inside. It was a shitty trade, really, because it merely continued a despicable cycle.

I was down with Bill. Then I grew up.

They say that idealism is just for kids. I don't think so. I think it's valuable. I also believe, that in the long run, it's the only thing that makes sense.

We know what happens when we continue to dabble in corruption and when we embrace assholes in pursuit of temporary goals. It taints us and it locks us into an endless cycle of twisted deals, cheap shots, lies and disgusting abandonment of principles. It locks those with whom we disagree into the same pattern.

Kids may be idealistic, but that's not because they're stupid. It's because they haven't yet sold themselves out for the sake of convenience. Idealism is what you have before you decide to compromise your integrity. It's what you can get when you decide not to play along with the bullshit.

Today, I saw Bill Clinton on television. He was talking about Hillary's tall tale about her visit to Bosnia. He's older now, but he still has some charm. He still turns on that "aw shucks" voice and spins nonsense with great dexterity.

He said Hillary's lies about her visit to Tuzla weren't a big issue. She didn't "rob a bank". She was brave to go--the first First Lady to land in a combat zone since Eleanor Roosevelt. She was just tired and pushing 60 when she told that story. Cut her some slack. It was something that happened one time, late at night, and she apologized for the error right away. No big deal, people. Nothing to see here. Move along. It wasn't a fish story, it was just a sleepy-time goof.

It was vintage Bill Clinton. He was covering up one exaggeration with another lie. He did it with a smile and personality. That stuff used to work for me. Oh, I saw through it, but I accepted it. I didn't want my guy going down and I was cool with him playing fast and loose with the truth to avoid the consequences of his mistakes. That was before I grew up.

Today, I saw Bill a little differently. I saw a guy who is so accustomed to playing in the gutter that he's unwilling to attempt honesty--even with respect to a fairly trivial issue. That's bad enough. What makes it even worse is that Bill knows he's full of shit. He's a smart guy. He's not lying out of habit or stupidity. He's lying because he's learned just how well it works. A little charm, a little mockery, a bit of self-deprecation. Toss it on top of some bullshit and the folks will swallow it. They always do. Those who know better will still play along, because they like Bill. It's simple.

It used to work for me. Until I grew up.

Hillary didn't "misspeak" once about Bosnia. She told the tall tale on multiple occasions. She didn't just repeat the lie late at night during fits of exhaustion. She wasn't having a "senior moment". She was trying to spin a goodwill mission to Bosnia as evidence of Commander in Chief qualifications and she had to lie to do it. Why not? It always works. Just ask Bill. Go back and watch the tapes of her telling the Tuzla Tale. Her body language is a little different. Her voice has a different tone. She's channeling Bill and all of the other bullshit artists who've polluted our politics.

Hillary wasn't the first First Lady to put boots on the ground in a danger zone. Pat Nixon went to Saigon. Hillary didn't immediately apologize for the lie. She never apologized. She said she misspoke. That's it. She lied because the value of honesty, in her estimation, was less than the potential political value of telling the lie. She didn't misspeak. She miscalculated.

And Bill is out there campaigning in the midwest, trying to cover the lie with enough crap to bury it forever. It used to work. He's done it before. This time, though, it's not working. I've grown up. I wish he would, too, because he's a smart guy who could accomplish so much more if he'd step out of the cesspool for a few minutes. He could be valuable. That's not what I'm seeing, though.

I don't see a good guy trying to get good things done who is just playing the game with skill. I see the symptoms of the disease that's disabling our government. I'm seeing the single-minded pursuit of one crew's ends with absolutely no consideration for the ends involved in getting there. It's the sell-out again and I'm not letting it slide anymore just because I liked Bill Clinton.

I grew up.

The good news? It seems like others are growing up a little, too. Perhaps 8 years of watching an amateur bullshit artist try to ply the same trade has convinced us that it's time for something a little less grotesque. Maybe Bill's just losing a step as he ages. Maybe we've seen Hillary, a horrible liar if there's ever been one, butcher the art of crap-slinging so much that we're better able to recognize it. Maybe we're just tired of watching this game played out year after year with nothing to show for it but good zinger soundbites and a few scars.

I don't know, but I do know that it doesn't seem to be working the way it used to. It almost seems anachronistic. I'm hoping we're all burned out on it. I'm just hoping the end is approaching for this kind of crap.

We don't have to hold hands and sing together. We don't have to agree about everything. We aren't even required to be nice to one another. We should, however, have enough courage to confront issues honestly and to debate them with some semblance of intellectual integrity. We should 'fess up to our lies and exaggerations instead of compounding the dishonesty with more of the same. That goes for all of us. I'm not just picking on Bill here.

I've been reading reactions to Bill's comments on The Tall Tale of Tuzla and it appears as though most people--on both sides of the so-called spectrum--aren't buying what Clinton was selling. That's a good sign, I think.

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On fleeting fame and Royals baseball... John Brown reflects...

2008-04-10T13:05:00.000-07:00

Based on my traffic stats today my brush with the non-celebrity un-greatness of Taylor Marsh is no longer burning up the blogosphere.

None of Marsh's photographer's agents have pounced on me for my transgression. None of the gnarled hearts and drooling mouths that populate her fib of a website are trying to defend her resume-inflation techniques. Things are quieting down. It's the joke at which everyone has laughed.

It was fun while it lasted. Now, onto bigger and better things. Unless, of course, the firestorm of controversy about The Silliest Blogger in Town should reignite. That would be fun.

Some of you (okay, most of you), found this blog as a result of Taylor's Tall Tales, so you might be wondering what's going to happen now that she's cackled that her life is an "open book" and is hunkering down, waiting for the storm of honest recognition to pass. Well, John Brown won't let you down!

No, I don't plan on picking on her day after day, becoming single-mindedly obsessed with exposing her resume inflation to everyone in the world. Okay, I might do that. It's not the main plan, though. That being said, everyone who'd like to write about Ms. Marsh is free to use my illustrations to accompany their posts.

I still owe a commenter a post critical of Barack Obama. Apparently, some people are under the mistaken impression that my expressed distaste for Monster and willingness to mock Monster-enabler Marsh is proof positive that I'm in the bag for Barry O. Yeah, he's my preferred choice right now, but he doesn't get a pass. So, I hope to get around to the part where I criticize Obama about something. I'm in the process of choosing the issue for concern.

I've also watched a few westerns that I'll eventually get around to reviewing. If you like that sort of thing, keep your eyes peeled.

Oh, and I also had a few dozen asshats complain that my attacks on Ms. Marsh lacked any substance because I didn't actually confront her on specific statements and issues. Well, my criticism of TM was about her fibby bio. I just assumed everyone recognized that she was a complete hack. I guess not. I'm trying to choose which of her god-awful posts to roast into ash for your viewing pleasure.

I'm getting tired of this "should Bush skip the opening ceremonies in Beijing?" nonsense. I have the right answer on that one, by the way. Stay tuned.

This FLDS thing? Right in my wheelhouse.

As a Royals fan, I'm loving their 6-2 start. I might have something to say about the boys in blue.

I'm hoping Mike Gravel releases a new video because he RAWKS!

I also find that John McCain is regularly willing to open his mouth in order to release excess bullshit. I'll pick through the manure so you don't have to!

I'll take requests, too.

Right now, though, I must make lasagna. I promised my wife. Then, I'm obligated to watch the Royals go for the sweep against the dreaded Yankees. Chris Chambliss, if you're reading this, I still hate you.

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Taylor Marsh revisited... Again... Complete pwnage, courtesy of John Brown, KS...

2008-04-09T13:31:00.000-07:00

Just in case you haven't been following the curious case of John Brown vs. the Silliest Blogger in Town, here's a brief rundown...

I read a stupid entry at The Huffington Post by an author whose name I'd seen here and there several times before. I decided to find out who in the hell the anti-genius in question actually was. The HuffPo bio wasn't illuminating and the bio at her site seemed artificially glossy and a wee bit too self-serving. The poster in question? Taylor Marsh.

Although I think she consistently demonstrates a level of political acumen on par with that of my preschool-aged daughter, Marsh has a loyal following of goofs who have joined forces to create a batallion in The Monster's army. She's a recognizable figure online and is oft-quoted as source material by other bloggers. I had a little time and a little curiosity. I decided it would be worthwhile to uncover and share a little bit of info about Marsh with those who, like me, might be interested.

I posted the results of my little Taylor Marsh bio on this blog. A day or two later, someone emailed me some additional information about Marsh, which I also shared. As interest in her background and claims grew, I was sent a link to her self-published vanity book, which I read and reviewed here.

Somewhere along the line, this became a big deal. I've experienced a massive increase in traffic, a lot of attention, congratulations and attacks, and a three-pronged response from Taylor Marsh. She mentioned the "gnat" who was "plumbing" her bio in one of podcasts (she prefers to call it a radio show, meaning I can call the Brown family grocery lists epic poetry). She lumped me and those who linked to me into the category of "hate sites and diaries" who "attack" her because of her allegiance to Hillary. She held a special little chat session with her minions to clear the air about her past, which is "an open book". Oh, she also warned me (in an act of stunning hypocrisy and foolishness, that I might find myself on the receiving end of a lawsuit!

Many have asked questions. Many have made accusations. I'd like to speak to some of them.

JOHN BROWN IS JUST JEALOUS OF TAYLOR MARSH

Bullshit. Yes, I did mention the fact that her swampy-ass website outdraws my tiny little free blog. That's what we call fact, not envy. I also mentioned that it would be relatively easy for anyone with a little drive and a complete willingness to spin and exaggerate to do the same thing, but that I wasn't that interested in playing the bullshit game. The Brown family is doing just fine without extra blog income and I'm not jealous of Ms. Marsh for getting traffic anymore than she's jealous of the guy who posts the funny LOL cats pictures every day. Oh, wait, she probably DOES have an ax to grind with him. In any case, you can cross jealousy off of your list of motives.

JOHN BROWN HATES TAYLOR BECAUSE SHE LIKES HILLARY CLINTON

This was the primary argument Taylor Marsh used her response to the hubbub surrounding her inflated credentials. It is make believe. I don't care for Taylor Marsh's analysis and blog posts because they are stupid. I am anti-mendacity and that makes dummies my natural enemy. The Monster does cause soul cancer, but that's not why I was critical of Taylor Marsh. Shit, Helen Thomas is pretty supportive of Hill these days and you don't see me griping about her.

And therein lies the difference. Taylor Marsh pretends to be something she isn't. She pretends to be a radio host and she pretends to be an author. In reality, she's merely someone who was willing to cough up the cash to buy radio time at a teeny-weeny AM vanity station in the Nevada dessert. In reality, she's a former porn site editor who decided to assemble her rambling account of why the job didn't work out into a "book" that she paid a vanity publisher to print up. Her allegedly relevant experience with an alt weekly paper was actually a gig helping people to write their personal ads. When she did try to write columns, the paper slapped ADVERTISEMENT on top of them.

The reason I took the time to recount Marsh's autobiographical inflation had nothing to do with her love of The Monster.

I disagree with Taylor Marsh about many things and many issues. I don't dislike her because I disagree with her. If I spent my time getting into it with everyone who didn't agree with me, I would be way too busy to bother with Taylor Marsh.

Hey, and I've been at least somewhat fair. I pointed out that Marsh was not a johnny-come-laterly and that she's been a prolific blogger for a long time. I expressed that I was impressed with her ability to self-promote. When someone sent me a link to her book that allowed me to read it free, I opted NOT to pass that along, because she is trying to peddle the damn thing. I might be mean to her, but I'm not THAT bad. And so what if I am?

I decided to look into who she was because I was curious about the freakshow postings' author. I learned that she was crutching on an exaggerated bio in order to create a sense of gravitas and credibility. I think that's goofy grapes, kids.

JOHN BROWN IS A WAR CRIMINAL OR SOMETHING EQUALLY EVIL

I've seen comments on other sites about my Marsh posts that claim I'm shilling for Obama for cash. I've seen one person claim I'm a sex offender and a former juvenile delinquent. One person claimed I was running teen cheerleader porn ads on my blog. I'm secretly a Republican operative, I'm in league with the darkest forces on the 'net and I may even enjoy deep-fried furry baby bunnies for dinner.

It's all bullshit. The truth, as is so often the case (see: Taylor Marsh bio) is much duller than fiction. I'm just a guy with a free blog and occasional bursts of free time on his hands who has opinions and interests. That's it.

JOHN BROWN IS A RIGHT-WING NUTJOB WHO HATES PROGRESSIVES

Not true. I consider myself relatively independent, even though I am a registered Democrat. My views are varied and they're my own, but I'm certainly not a Republican hitman. If you tallied all of my votes and political contributions over the years, I would wager that 80% of the time I've gone with the people who have D's behind their names.

JOHN BROWN IS A NOBODY, WHY SHOULD PEOPLE EVEN CARE

Well, all I can tell you is that I speak my mind. I try to support my arguments when it makes sense to do so. When I'm speculating, I say so. If I'm wrong and am corrected, I will admit my errors. I am just a guy with a blog and I think anyone who wants to read it should evaluate the quality of my entries based on their content and their quality. That's one big reason why I blog under a pseudonym.

"Aha!" exclaim the Marsh-backers, "didn't you say no one should pay attention to Taylor Marsh because you don't think she has a credible background?"

No. I didn't say that. Not even close. Get the wax out of your fucking ears and listen good:

Taylor Marsh is free to say whatever silly dumbassery enters her mind. You are free to read it. You are free to believe it or to reject it. I hope you do so based on the quality of her arguments and her reasoning, coupled with an adequate knowledge base and a respect for intellectual honesty.

You should not, however, buy into Marsh's goobery BECAUSE of her inflated bio.

Do you get the difference? Judge her by her works, not by her tall tale of self-importance. Don't give her bonus points because she has a glossy fib of a bio at HuffPo or because she hired someone to create a site for her that looks like it belongs to someone who actually has a real radio show. Don't take her seriously BECAUSE of the disingenuous bells and whistles.

As noted a 28,483 times, I think crutching on an exaggerated bio is a misleading way of building ethos. Marsh laughed those criticisms off, exclaiming on her podcast that she was good at PR, just like Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity. Think about the implications of that perspective and choice of examples for a minute, okay?

It's EASY to create a mega-super-duper-bullshit bio. Unless you're a complete dreg, you can do it in less than five minutes. It's like amped up resume-pumping, but without the risk of losing a job because of it.

JOHN BROWN IS MEAN AND HIS POSTS ABOUT TAYLOR MARSH ARE A HIT JOB

As I noted in my own little online bio, I can be a complete prick. Guilty as charged. However, I tend to be right. And I am intellectually honest. You can dislike me. You can think I'm mean. You might be right. However, dismissing the arguments about Marsh based on perceptions of my personality would be foolish.

In all of the hand-wringing over my "hit pieces", no one has pointed out factual errors. Even Ms. Marsh didn't call me out for lying. You can call me a prick, but you can't say I'm wrong about the facts. If the facts represent a "hit" on the self-proclaimed "antidote to right wing talk" (see: when the cure is just as bad as the disease), so be it.

JOHN BROWN DIDN'T UNCOVER ANYTHING NEW ABOUT TAYLOR MARSH

Damn. There goes my chance to join the secret club of scoopers. I'm no Woodward or Bernstein. of course, I never claimed to be. I just took the time to figure out a few things and I put them all together in one place. I never claimed to have some sort of WWWEXCLUSIVE on Taylor Marsh.

The fact of the matter is that all of the crap I mentioned WAS pretty easy to find. It wasn't easy to find in one place and Marsh didn't necessarily provide all of the context to engender the information she does provide with meaning--at least not in one convenient read. So, if that makes me more of a news aggregator than an investigative reporter, I can accept that fate.

A FEW QUESTIONS OF MY OWN...

Why does it seem so difficult for people to combine a little common sense with their rage? I keep getting and reading all these comments about how mean I am, how I'm jealous, how I have penis envy (?), how wonderful Taylor Marsh is, etc. etc. NONE of them actually address the propriety of telling a tall tale to get attention and to build credibility. NONE of them provide a direct retort to my claims that Marsh inflated her bio. NONE of them actually defend her veiled threat of litigation relating to the use of her Glamour Shot-esque photos.

If you want to come down hard on me for not liking Marsh, for knowing that Hillary is The Monster, or for whatever else, please, please, please, please bring an argument to the table. Try to combine your attitude with a little substance. Just a little. Bring your A-game. Otherwise, it might get boring.

OH, AND THE ILLUSTRATIONS...

I hereby relinquish all copyright to my illustrations, created in response to Ms. Marsh's concern over the possibility I might be sued for using her image on my blog (Apparently, this strategy works better when you're a photographer than when you're Debbie Schlussel. Right, Taylor?).

I hereby grant permission to anyone to use the images as they see fit. You might even say I'm encouraging their use.

If you do use one of my illustrations, please leave a comment so I can keep track of where they're turning up.

YOUR BEST FRIEND FOREVER,

JOHN BROWN

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Taylor Marsh warns of LAWSUIT in John Brown's future...

2008-04-08T18:07:00.000-07:00

Talk radio personality (cue laugh track) Taylor Marsh wants to make sure I don't get in trouble.

She first mentioned it on her massively popular radio show (read: podcast), advising "gnats" and people who've been "plumbing" her bio, like me, might be getting a BIG BILL from the photographer that took the Glamour Shot-style pics that adorn her site.

Those of us who are running "blossoming hate sites and hate diaries" (her words), like John Brown, may be in violation of the photographer's copyright to the pictures.

Those "gnats" who launch "hate attacks" on Ms. Marsh may be cruisin' for a legal bruisin'.

According to a new post at her site, "that they stole copyrighted photos may come back to haunt them, however, because if the photographers find out their agents will indeed pounce."

Holy shit! I hope attorneys don't POUNCE on me!

I'm not that interested in the legal questions here. Though the risk of pouncing lawyers hired by Glamour Shot dudes is slight and the odds against them getting a penny out of John Brown or slim, I am going to remove all actual photos of Taylor Marsh from this site. That should make her happy!

Instead, I want to tell you a story about copyrighted photos...

Once upon a time, there was a right-wing freaky-ass blogger named Debbie Schlussel. One day, a Reagan Democrat blogger named Taylor Marsh wrote a post about this Schlussel character. Debbie got pissed off, because Taylor didn't agree with her. In her pissy fit, Debbie DEMANDED THAT MARSH REMOVE THE COPYRIGHTED IMAGES used to illustrate the post. She THREATENED MARSH WITH A LAWSUIT! What did Taylor Marsh do?

Taylor removed the offending images (and they were offending, ba-da-dum!). She also wrote this response:

I've spoken to my lawyer (my big brother) today, as well as a First Amendment attorney who's familiar with these types of things, thanks to a referral from another progressive. In addition, my brother also spoke to a copyright lawyer. It remains to be seen if bloggers are protected for "fair use" with photos used in reporting stories, because much of what we're seen to do is opinion, criticism and comment. However, as regular readers know, I actually do reporting and have broken stories before. Regardless, the minute I used Ms. Schlussel's picture, well, I've said it all already.

Frankly, the publicity of a lawsuit would be great. As for what Schlussel will get, good luck. But talk about a frivolous lawsuit.

You've got to wonder if Ms. Schlussel is trying to intimidate me, or if she is trying to squelch my right to free speech. I can't know for sure, but the inherent threat of a lawsuit seems to be focused on doing both, however unsuccessfully. Or maybe she thinks I'm stupid? Pity.

Now THAT'S AWESOME! I agree completely!

Hey Taylor, why do you think your photographer's attempts at squeezing dough from ol' John Brown would be successful? Is he gonna pounce on those copyrighted images of you on Google? Just wondering. You sung a very different tune when you were on the other end of this crap, don't you think?

What else did Taylor do? She replaced the photo of Schlussel with a hastily-drawn replacement.

I don't usually agree with Marsh, but this time I think she was on to something.

I've replaced those ultra-valuable copyrighted images that put me at risk of litigation with my own portraits of Taylor Marsh.

I had no choice.

Oh, and I hope Marsh and the Marshans don't take offense. After all, everyone LOVED the idea when Debbie Schlussel threatened litigation. I'm just following the leader...

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Royals / Yankees, 3:10 p.m... Squandering opportunity and freezing my ass off... Sneak previews...

2008-04-08T06:24:00.001-07:00

A smart, self-promoting blogger would take advantage of this situation. My series of posts on "talk radio host" (hey, stop laughing) Taylor Marsh is attracting a lot of attention in certain circles. This could be my fifteen minutes of fame or my chance to create a large and loyal audience.

I'm getting emails. Welcome to the big leagues. Al Giordano is linking to you. First time reader, I might be back. Read about your post at Daily Kos. You're all over Democratic Underground.

The other day, I even received a mini-avalanche of visitors from Marsh's site due to a mention in the comments. Comments about the blog are popping up all over the place.

This new little hobby project has had two days in the past week with over 1,000 unique visitors. Yeah, I know. That's not BIG TIME. It's big for a little anonymous freebie blog, though.

So, this might be my big shot. Today should be the day I write the Greatest Post in the young history of Prepare Yourselves for a Settlement. I should be running to the door in response to opportunity's knock.

However, it's opening day in Kansas City. Gloomy skies, rain and a projected wind chill antithetical to baseball, but it is opening day. Royals vs. Yankees. 3:10 p.m.

I have priorities.

Tonight? The last of the Taylor Marsh posts: John Brown Explains it ALL. And, as promised, a post critical of Barack Obama, offered as evidence that my distaste for The Monster doesn't automatically make me a hack for Barry. Maybe I'll rip on McCain a little bit for good measure, too. I might as well be the Universal Offender.

Go Royals. I wish I had an ode to opening day that was as stirring as Tony's ruminations on the KU basketball national championship win.

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The Taylor Marsh book Review... My Year in Smut... Pro-Clinton blogger's career in softcore porn...

2008-04-06T22:20:00.000-07:00

(For an explanation of this illustration, read this)

A reader forwarded me a link to a PDF version of Taylor Marsh's book, My Year in Smut: The Internet Escapades Inside Danni's Hard Drive.

I don't know if Ms. Marsh intends this material to be freely available or if the accessible link to the book is an inadvertent error. As such, I won't be sharing the link. If you want to read it, I'm sure she'll be happy to sell you a copy.

My recent biography of Taylor Marsh post has received some attention and I felt like reading My Year in Smut was the least I could do, under the circumstances. I've made my way through roughly 180 pages tracing her year-long stint as an employee of a big-time softcore porn site. Here's what I read and learned:

Synopsis. Taylor Marsh is a singer/dancer/drama mama who ended up working for a softcore porn website as its editor. My Year in Smut details her year on the job, why it didn't work out, and what she thinks of the smut racket.

Grudge Factor. My Year in Smut is, in large measure, a disgruntled employee's pissy and over-detailed resignation letter. Marsh spends a lot of time detailing why she feels her former employer, Danni Ashe, was a major league pain in the ass. She tempers it with a few niceties here and there, but continually digs at her old boss and others who made her gig in the online porn biz tough. This is the book someone writes when they leave a job under bad circumstances.

Understanding Self-Publishing. As noted in an earlier post, My Year in Smut only reached bound paper status after Taylor Marsh ponied up enough cash to pay a vanity press to print it. I don't know if she shopped the book to any legit publishers or if she decided to pay to play from the beginning. I do know, however, that a serious joint would probably take a raincheck on My Year in Smut.

I'm not going to attack Taylor Marsh's writing. Well, maybe I will later, but not now. I will, however, attack the book's content and organization. There are pages of mini-bios about co-workers. There is no cohesive narrative. There are strange meanderings and the book is an exercise in tangentialism. Note that I read an ebook and the finished text of My Year in Smut may have been edited.

The LA Weekly. Marsh has mentioned her past employment with the LA Weekly, but the details are murky. My Year in Smut sheds a little more light on her work there. It appears as though her work as a "relationship consultant" was basically helping people to write better personal ads. She apparently wrote columns of some sort for that part of the paper, too, but it's unclear what they really were and/or why the editorial staff there decided to flag them as advertisements.

Marsh on Porn. Here's part of the review where I give Marsh a thumbs-up. She has a very healthy, realistic and smart (yes, I said smart), perspective on pornography and smut. She's not prudish, but she believes that producers and distributors of adult materials should act responsibly. I also found her argument that current porn peddlers are acting without an understanding or appreciation for the politics of sexual liberation interesting. I'd actually take it an extra step, arguing that apolitical porn can contribute to the reification of certain dehumanizing and patriarchal notions. Anyway, Marsh doesn't always get from A to B as clearly and quickly as she should, but her perpsective on porn is okey dokey with John Brown.

Her story about the Tawny Peaks photo spread that finally led her to quit the porn site showed me that somewhere within her Hillary-loving ice-heart, Taylor Marsh can and has differentiated between right and wrong. She was right about the pictures that ended her editorial stint and she deserves congratulations for standing on her principles.

Marsh the Human. I know the TM haters out there will find it hard to believe, but Taylor Marsh is a human being. One of the most interesting parts of the book was its fourth chapter (if I remember right), which is basically an exercise in autobiography. Here, Marsh gives the reader a very honest and brave accounting of her life with respect to relationships and sexuality. I have given Taylor Marsh hell and will continue to do so. However, I feel its only honest to give her some positive recognition where its due. It's due with respect to this part of her book. This was the one part of the book that felt unforced and emotionally true. If all of My Year in Smut was this honest, it'd be a much better book.

Fun Stuff. My Year in Smut includes a story about Marsh's short stint as a phone sex operator. If you were dialing a $3.95/minute 900# back in the late 80s and masturbated while talking to "Lisa", you may have been chatting with Taylor Marsh!

My Year in Smut also includes some handy hints for the ladies about how to give a blowjob. No, really. The instruction on slob-knobbing just sort of magically appears out of nowhere and then disappears. Right now, there might be a woman giving a dude head who learned some tricks from Taylor Marsh!

My Year in Smut has a prolonged sample of Marsh-written erotica. This is another "what the hell moment", as the prose is offered as proof that she knows "how to get to it". It comes out of the blue and disappears. It did not give me an erection, if you're wondering.

I don't think Marsh is great with words. She communicates ideas but I don't find any magic in her prose. Some might. No reasonable reader, however, would enjoy her clunky and senseless organization of ideas. Structurally, My Year in Smut is a train wreck. If you're willing to plod through it, you'll end up getting one person's perspective on porn and a completely unnecessary detailing of specific job-related incidents that aren't particularly interesting or illuminating. You'll also learn a little bit more about an up-and-coming blogger whose primary talent really does seem to be self-promotion.

When I review westerns, I usually give a final rating of 1 to 5 "singing cowboys". Considering that My Year in Smut involves the author's work for a website best known for its busty models, I'm gonna go do things a little differently.

I'd love to give it a higher ranking, just to have an excuse to use this graphic more than once, but My Year in Smut earns only one "nice pair". I'm giving it one because I'm knee-deep in a Taylor Marsh controversy. If I wasn't, I'd give it 1/2.

Final Rating:

(1 nice pair out of a possible 5)

Maybe I will now stop writing about Taylor Marsh. Except for answering comments. I find that irresistible.

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Who is John Brown... Just in case you were wondering...

2008-04-06T14:53:00.000-07:00

My recent post about "talk radio personality" (cue laugh track) Taylor Marsh has led a few people to ask "Who in the hell is John Brown, anyway".

That's a fair question. Here's an honest answer.

My name isn't John Brown. I stole that from the abolitionist, another Kansan.

I live in the KC metro area, on the Kansas side in the ever-so-boring suburbs. I'm approaching 40 and some days I notice single thin, white hairs sprouting off the tops of my ears. I remove these immediately.

When I was a kid, I dropped a giant glass jar of peanut butter on my foot in the grocery store. I was wearing flip-flops and the store floor was hard. The force of the jar's landing resulted in the loss of my big toenail on my left foot. Eventually, it grew back. Even today, however, it is different. It has a certain "ridged" feel and it grows at about 3x the rate of my other toenails.

I'm happily married and I have a little kid who is far more awesome than your little kid will ever hope to be (if you happen to have a kid). My wife is far more awesome than your spouse, too.

I have a job. It's a pretty good one, too. Not great, but pretty good. It pays most of the bills. My wife has a pretty good job and it pays the remainder of the bills and gives us money to squander foolishly, as the middle class tends to do.

Before I took my current job, which is sales-related, I did many other things. One of those things was "small business owner". I was part of the allegedly small percentage of new businesses that didn't fail. Things were going good. I decided to shut down, though, because of the time involved in running my own shoppe. See how I used the double-"p" with a "e" spelling there. I'm crazy like that.

Before that, I was involved in social work. Before that, I taught. Before and during that, I went to school. I have a bachelors degree and more graduate hours than anyone on the planet who doesn't actually have a graduate degree. I kept quitting programs right before completion because I have moments of clarity and stretches of fucked uppedness. "Uppedness" is not a word. Even though I never put much effort into school, I was always good at it. My grades were on the high end of the spectrum and I won awards and attention.

Other jobs included a stint on the radio, doing hard labor, selling stuff, bossing cubicle people around, writing for other people and loads of stuff I'm not going to bother mentioning.

I don't like pancakes. I like waffles if they're crispy and topped with whipped cream and fruit.

I can be really nice. I'm talking nicer than pleasant. I can be a real prick sometimes, too. Occasionally, I'm a complete asshat. Fortunately, I'm right far more often than I'm wrong. That makes things easier.

I read a lot. I watch westerns sometimes. I like to review westerns, too. You can find some movie reviews on this blog. I root for the hapless Kansas City Royals. I wear contact lenses. I wear size 11 1/2 shoes and I'm 6' tall. As much as it pains me to write this, I am getting fatter as I age.

Politically, I classify myself as an Independent. That isn't because I can't make up my mind about things, though. It's because I think both "sides" are full of shit on some matters and closer to correct on others. If you're really all that interested in my overall political outlook, your best bet is to continue to read this blog and/or check out the archives. It comes out piece by piece.

Mainly, I dislike intellectual dishonesty. I dislike the bullshit hit and run politics that so often dominate our discussions. I'm okay with hypocrisy but only when it makes sense to be a hypocrite and it's done honestly and openly.

I don't mind arguing. I think arguing is an AOK thing. I don't even think it has to be done pleasantly all the time. At its core, though, the argument should probably be about the actual matter at hand and not the kind of tone in which we wrap it. Those who can sling a little attitude while making good arguments are fun and interesting.

I do find Hillary Clinton's candidacy grotesque. I intentionally and willfully call her a monster. I think her campaign causes soul cancer. I'm an Obama backer, but I have reservations about his stance on a variety of issues. I don't believe Barack Obama can make the unicorns and leprechauns pitch in together to create the Giant Rainbow of Ultimate Joy. I do, however, think that he is willing to entertain serious discussions in serious ways, something Hillary Clinton will never do. I don't hate John McCain. I don't really like him, either. I think he is the last 8-track tape in America's stereophonic history.

Taylor Marsh. I should probably address that whole thing, since it's becoming a bit of a controversy. I don't hate her. I think she's often wrong and usually silly. I actually have a begrudging respect for her. She's developed a massive and loyal following for herself, despite lacking the traditional background required to be taken seriously in her field. That shows chutzpah, moxie, or whatever and is somewhat cool.

So, if I don't hate her, why did I whack her around? I don't think I did. I kept seeing her name all over the place and couldn't get any idea of who she actually was. I did a little research. I wrote a few blog posts. The end. She is what she is. I think it's interesting, though, because she really does push her "credentials" even though the backstory is sort of a tall tale.

Why don't I use my real name? Why don't I tell you all about myself? Isn't it just as good for John Brown the gander as it is for Taylor Marsh the goose?

Well, I don't want or need to be famous for blogging my opinions. That's part of it. I like my anonymity. That's another. I'd prefer that the folks who read Prepare Yourselves for a Settlement judge it on its merits--the actual content. Do you like the writing? Do you like the quality of argument? Things like that. I don't want to be judged based on my background because I don't think it's all that important. I don't want to feel the need to "juice" my history to create false credibility, either. I just want to have my little slice of the web where I get to express my opinion and others get to assess it free of bullshit appeals to authority.

I'm John Brown. Thanks for visiting. Watch your step on the way out.

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Hillary Clinton is a Monster.... Again... She's a delegate poaching, anti-democratic liar, too... Why people don't like Clinton...

2008-04-06T10:33:00.000-07:00

Hillary fans get pissed off about all the people who spend their days, like yours truly, hating on The Monster. Why, oh why are we so unfair to Hillary? Why can't we give credit where it is due? Why must we always attack her?

Here's why: She can't go more than 3 days without doing something that shocks the conscience while turning the stomach. The Monster strikes frequently.

Latest example? Pledged delegates.

Officially, no delegate is really "pledged" to a candidate in any contractual sense. Delegates are generally chosen, in large measure, on their loyalty to a candidate. They are, however, free to act on their conscience.

Thus, if you were a pledged delegate for Hillary Clinton, you would be free to change your allegiance in Denver after the drugs wore off and you realized she was an evil beast. Likewise, you could switch from Obama to Hillary, if you were so inclined.

Fine. It's always been that way. It never really happens that way, though. When the convention prom starts, delegates almost universally line up to dance with the folks who "brung 'em there". Very few exceptions.

There's also a longstanding etiquette thing at play. Candidates just don't go delegate poaching. It's considered bad form. Not only is it a rude and obnoxious display of poor sportsmanship (which isn't particularly Presidential behavior). It's also pretty undemocratic when you think about it.

You see, people (regular folks like you and John Brown) caucus or vote. Our preferences are distilled in the form of delegates who are responsible for expressing them at the convention. If our little chunk of the USA is in love with Candidate A, our delegates really should be backing Candidate A, too. If the delegate says, "fuck ya'll" and aligns with Candidate B. Well, hmmm... That would be like... It would be like... Oh, yeah, it would be like our votes didn't count.

In a non-technical sense, rogue delegates would disenfranchise regular Joe voters. They wouldn't represent the will of the people and they would make a complete mockery out of the primary and caucus processes. All of those elections, all of those votes, all of those nights spent listening to Wolf Blitzer talk about early returns from rural counties in random states, all of the yard signs, all of the robo-calls and everything else would would be meaningless.

Delegate poaching is anti-democratic. Yes, it's true that the delegates aren't required to back the people's candidate. That fact is both a safety hatch in the event of something really weird happening and a byproduct of an old and somewhat outmoded system. It is not an excuse to intentionally sabotage democracy.

But The Monster sees it differently. Now.

Once upon a time, she agreed with logic and reason. She even went on record regarding the notion of delegate poaching. She was clear in her stance. Hillary Clinton was adamant. Hillary Clinton wasn't going after pledged delegates and she wasn't going to do it in the future. If anything, The Monster was worried that Barack Obama might make a play in the forbidden zone. Read Hillary Clinton's own words about delegate thievery:

We have not, are not and will not pursue the pledged delegates of Barack Obama. It's now time for the Obama campaign to be clear about their intentions.

That was a reasonable thing to say. It makes sense. You don't go stealing the other candidate's delegates. Hoo-ray for Hillary! Glad she said something reasonable.

The statement was also completely consistent with her arguments about Florida and Michigan. Florida and Michigan, you'll remember, violated DNC rules and held early primaries. Hillary won them, but everyone knew they didn't count (including her). In Michigan, hers was the only name on the ballot.

Hillary, however, wants to make sure the fine Americans in Florida and Michigan do count. She wants every vote to count. She doesn't want to see people disenfranchised. It's an election, not a coronation and it's downright awful to think that people's voices might not be heard. That's what Hillary says. And it's wholly consistent with taking a stance against delegate poaching.

It's also consistent with her prolonged campaign in the face of impossible odds. She says she continues to run because people should have choices. They should be given an opportunity to vote. They should be able to make a difference and to express their will. That sounds very democratic and it's very consistent with her previously-expressed stance on pledged delegates.

The Monster now has a different plan. She was just in North Dakota, you know. Why? They did their caucus a few months ago. What would lead Hillmonster to the Flickertail State?

Well, she was there making a pitch for delegates. Barack Obama's delegates. Pledged delegates.

Hillary Clinton was out poaching.

Take a second to re-read Hillary's previous stance on stealing delegates. The one I quoted earlier. You know, where she said she wasn't doing that and wasn't going to do it. Guess what?

She's a fucking liar.

Again. While ducking fire from snipers, Hillary Clinton said the following, per ABC News:

Clinton made it clear to North Dakota Democrats last night that she believes there is no such thing as a pledged delegate and highlighted that stubborn streak in her appeal for delegates to switch from Obama to her when the Democratic national party holds its nominating convention this August.

"I am here tonight because I am seeking your support," Clinton said, adding that she never gives up.

"I know what it's like to stumble. I know what it means to get knocked down. But I've never stayed down. I never will and neither will America if we get ready to win this election in November," she said.

My initial response? A hearty "fuck you". My second? "You're a liar". My third? "And a hypocrite".

Hillary Clinton wants every vote to count in Florida and Michigan. She wants every vote to mean something in every remaining state. She recoils at the idea of disenfranchisement. My ass. She's a liar.

Because right now, as you read this, The Monster is plotting to disenfranchise YOU. And ME. And the people of North Dakota and everywhere else where votes were made and delegates chosen. She wants delegates, whose sole purpose is to represent the will of their districts, to stab voters in their backs. She wants them to switch to Hillary.

She doesn't want them to do that because it's democratic. Or fair. Or decent. She wants to do it because she can and because she wants to win. By whatever means necessary. She's Rocky Balboa, but with loaded gloves. She's the UND hockey team, but with a paid off ref. She's a fighter, but her strategy is all head butts and groin kicks. The Monster is a liar and she doesn't give one-third of a rat's ass if anything she does to get to Pennsylvania Avenue is right, honest, decent or democratic.

And that, Hillary fans, is why people hate Hillary Clinton.

It isn't her gender. It isn't media bias. It isn't her husband. It isn't ________. The reason so many people dislike Hillary Clinton so much is that she really is a Monster.

Please, oh please, Hillary Clinton supporters, defend this bullshit. I need an explanation.

How do you go from "I won't do that" to "I'm doing that". How do you intentionally try to render millions of votes meaningless while simultaneously bitching and moaning about others being disenfranchised because they didn't play by party rules? How can you argue that every vote must count while trying your damnedest to render the votes you didn't like meaningless?

Her campaign is diseased. She won't win. The Monsters never win. They just cause mayhem and spill blood indiscriminately until they lose. So it is with Hillary Clinton, monster.

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Obama, Wright and perspective... Coming out of the fog... The devil IS in the details, sometimes...

2008-04-05T11:46:00.001-07:00

I was watching Christopher Hitchens and Andrew Sullivan on Tim Russert's show this morning. They were talking about Barack Obama and Jeremiah Wright. Again.

I think Tim Russert is a tool. I usually get a kick out of Hitchens and Sullivan. I agree with some of what both have to say and disagree with plenty, too. They may not be the two smartest men in the whole world, but they are far more intelligent and interesting than your standard weekend talk show guests.

Compared to the likes of James Carville and Pat Buchanon, Hitchens and Sullivan are punditry gods.

They were talking. I was listening. A haze slowly fell over me. I heard every word of their back-and-forth, but I wasn't processing it. It wasn't too complicated. It wasn't too deep. It was, however, too boring. And too stupid.

A moment of clarity. This is really, really dumb. The Jeremiah Wright/Barack Obama controversy is foolish.

Many, including me, get lost in the minutiae. We obsess over the details. We analyze every dynamic from all directions. We debate, discuss, support, mock and obsess over things that warrant far less attention than we provide.

So it is with Jeremiah Wright.

Reverend Wright says some really offensive things. He appears to hold some very stupid beliefs. He has a big bad side. He has a big good side, too. He is what he is. He's a nutjob and a good guy all wrapped up into one obviously-flawed and politically dangerous package. So be it. Barack Obama has said the same thing about Jerry W., with a little more care and eloquence.

Pastorgate is really a very simple matter. One sentence:

Barack Obama has a friend and church pastor who happens to have said a lot of really crazy shit.

That's it.

There's no evidence to suggest that Obama believes Wright's crazy positions. There's no reason to think the Senator prays for God to damn our nation every night before beddy-bye time. Barry had a nutjob standing behind the podium of his church. This is not the end of the world. This is just something that happens.

Obama rejected the weirdness and said that he recognized the preaching freakshow's good side. That's more than you'd expect from a candidate. Most would go apeshit attacking the preacher, feigning horror and disgust. Obama didn't sell Wright out, even though he leveled criticism.

Democrats who love The Monster seem to really appreciate the notion of loyalty. Bill Richardson became Judas Iscariot, selling out the Jesus of Bill or Hillary right before Easter, according to James Carville.

Richardson, we were told, was a piece of shit because he didn't display enough loyalty to a pair of very flawed human beings. The "betrayal" was enough to induce finger-wagging from the former President and a bit of red-facedness.

Loyalty is good for those who back Clinton, it's "questionable" when actually displayed by Obama. Go figure.

This is getting off track, though. See? It's easy to get lost in the minor squabbles.

Minor squabbles like Jeremiah Wright. Big news? Sure. Plenty of headlines. In the end, though, it's a porn scene without a money shot.

Obama doesn't plot with Wright. The two don't share a brain. And, it's really just about a guy who has a crazy friend prone to bouts of stupidity.

Eventually, I think most reasonable people will finally see and hear enough of the Wright stuff. They'll have moments of clarity. They'll finally stop listening to those who would continue to force this into being a real story. They'll shrug. They'll think. Out of the fog with a smile.

What difference does this really make?

And that will be the end of it.

Here we are wrapping up a nomination process and the Worst Thing to Happen to the eventual victor is that he has a pain in the ass friend. Not too shabby.

Perspective is a good thing. It's too bad it's often easy to lose.

Just a quick shout out to Monster fans (aka fans of The Lost Cause) and those who prefer John McCain to Barry O... If you want to have an argument... If you want to duke it out... If you want to prove your guy/gal/creature is a better choice than Barack, I'd recommend focusing your efforts on something more meaningful than how nutty some third party happens to be.

Just an idea.

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Movie Review: Hard Bounty (1995)... John Brown loves westerns...

2008-04-04T17:44:00.000-07:00

Hard Bounty (1995)

A "lady of the evening" is wronged, a blackmail scheme bubbles to the surface and a recently retired bounty hunter-turned-saloon keeper teams up with a group of prostitutes (one of whom is his girlfriend) to right various wrongs. That is Hard Bounty and it is bad.

Hard Bounty is a Jim Wynorski movie. Wynorski is a Roger Corman protege and a respected player on the B-movie scene. He works fast, he works cheap and his movies make money. As far as I can tell, the Wynorski formula is relatively simple. Keep the plot straightforward. Favor action over dialog. Get at least a couple of semi-recognizable faces for the cast. Ignore detail. Show tit. Hard Bounty follows the formula.

Matt McCoy is the bounty hunter. His version of "the man with no name" is awesome in its silliness. It is impossible to tell if McCoy is offering a weird parody of/homage to the Eastwood/Leone projects or if he's doing the schtick for real. Let it be known that Matt McCoy is far more compelling and believable as Lloyd Braun in a couple of Seinfeld episodes than he is as a leading man in a crappy B-western.

Hard Bounty really does create a puzzle for its viewer. One can never be sure of what he or she is actually watching. Is this a western? Is it a comedy without jokes? Is Wynorski copying Sergio Leone or is he tipping his rented Stetson to him? Is this parody? Are they playing it straight? What the fuck is going on here?

Kelly LeBrock is the girlfriend/whore. Slightly past her prime as an 80s starlet, she's still a hottie and she looks downright nifty in black lace and fishnets. She can't act. She is one of the few female cast members who fails to bare her boobs. That is unfortunate.

The bad guys suffer from the exacta of film doom. They can't act worth a shit and they're given dialog that would induce a cringe even if delivered by a master thespian. They are more stupid than evil; more boring than mean.

The prostitutes are hot. Rochelle Swanson, a favorite among B-movie T&A fans is in the mix. That seems like reasonable casting, no? They get naked and have wonderfully spherical and oversized breasts. Hard Bounty proves that even bad B-level actresses can afford good plastic surgeons. Hard Bounty teaches another lesson. Sexy women with guns kick ass. Okay, that's something we already knew (even way back in the day of The Dalton Girls), but I'm always down with a refresher course.

I don't review every western I watch and I don't even finish every western I start watching. Take The Shadow Riders, for instance. I've failed to finish this movie on three separate occasions. I restart the flick and find myself either sleepy or bored within minutes. How can it be that a western with Tom Selleck and Sam Elliot is impossible to watch while one featuring Kelly LeBrock and Matt McCoy held my interest for the entirety of its 90+ minutes?

This movie would seem to be a completely unwatchable piece of crap. It should be impossible for yours truly to actually sit through the whole damn thing. It is unthinkable that I would bother reviewing it. This is a movie in which six-guns fire seven rounds and tire tracks are visible on western dirt roads. Hard Bounty's action is choreographed at home video levels. Everything looks fake.

And yet I'm here, writing about it. That is the great mystery of Hard Bounty: Why? Why is it watchable?

I don't have an answer. Wynorski may have found the magical boobs/minute rate to maintain straight male interest. Kelly LeBrock might be just good looking enough that you can't quite bring yourself to turn the damn TV off. You may be distracted, trying to determine why anyone made this movie in this way. You could be impressed by the "devil may care" attitude exhibited--this is clearly a movie in which no one tried their hardest. Matt McCoy might be just weird enough that you fight the urge to put yourself out of your Hard Bounty-induced misery.

Trying to solve that mystery might be just enough of a reason to watch it. Probably not, though.

Final Rating:

(1/5 Singing Cowboys)

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Who is Taylor Marsh? An update for the bio... A tall tale, part two...

2008-04-03T14:15:00.000-07:00

If you missed the bio of Taylor Marsh, the self-professed "talk radio" host, Huffington Post blogger, successful polisite operator and crazed hack for Hillary Clinton, you can read it here.

Here's an update relating to the LA Weekly portion of the tall tale. Marsh claims to have written for the Weekly, but also admitted that her columns appeared with the word ADVERTISEMENT on top of them. That's not what one generally does with their paid columnists, of course. We knew that much already.

I'm still not sure why Taylor Marsh stories were considered advertising, but I have some interesting additional background about her "experience" with the LA Weekly.

A reader emailed me a few links to websites that date back to the Taylor Marsh era at the paper. Apparently, Ms. Marsh worked for LALoveseat.com, which was an "adult" and/or "personals" site operated by the free alt weekly. I'm wondering if the journalistic experience Taylor Marsh had at the paper was actually writing materials for LALoveseat. Just an idea, but it matches up with an iHollywood Forum update that describes Marsh like this:

Taylor Marsh, former editor-in-chief of Danni's Hard Drive, a popular adult site that brings in $6 million a year in revenue, now a featured columnist on LA Weekly's LALoveseat.com

Interestingly, if you search the LA Weekly archives for other articles under the name Taylor Marsh, you get nothing.

LALoveseat had detractors, which isn't a big surprise. Anything involving boobies, butts and genitals has detractors. Let it be know that John Brown is not an anti-porn crusader and that Marsh's experience in porn as an employee at Danni's Hard Drive and elsewhere shouldn't be held against her. If anything, I'm sneakily pro-porn.

One may, however, question if that time with the adult site really qualifies as relevant experience for hackery, er, political punditry.

Anyway, now that the disclaimer is out there, here's how one dude characterized LALoveseat in a letter to the paper by someone named Bill Cody:

I long ago mourned the death of the progressive media in this country, but whenever I think I’ve finally found the subbasement and cannot possibly go any lower, you folks at the Weekly/Village Voice find another hidden stairwell.

“LALOVESEAT.COM,” the ad screams. “Adult Services — massage — escorts — dancers — clubs.” Why not tell it like it is? The Weekly is now pimping for prostitutes. I know none of you oh-so-talented writer types want to get day jobs, but really, how low can you go? ... You should be ashamed of yourselves.

I'm not arguing that LALoveseat was porn based on that letter, though. I'm making the assumption that we're talking about relatively "blue" material on the fact that Taylor Marsh took the time to appear with a collection of other porn website operators in the aforementioned panel discussion.

All we really know about her comments at the discussion are that she didn't mention whether LALoveseat (a free site that probably sought to generate revenue via advertising) was profitable and that she thought porn studios could do a better job with their sites via increased interactivity. According to Taylor Marsh:

When you go to an adult site, you get to see people. With other sites, too often you feel like there is too much facade and no human interaction...Movie studios in particular are underutilizing the Internet...If I was the head of a studio, I would have all my hot, young stars online doing chats. Fan clubs are tremendously valuable on the Web.

Her observations about interactivity and websites makes sense, by the way, on a general level. It also seems to be one of the reasons her current site attracts a large group of regulars. It may seem weird to think about the pro-Hillary, Reagan Democrat member of a lunch-bucket family talking about getting young and hot talent to chat with porn fans to increase sales, though.

I'd be happy to judge Ms. Marsh's efforts purely on the quality of her analysis and writing. If I did that, I'd come down on the side of "just another not-so-bright person with typing skills". However, Marsh consistently reminds the world of her "qualifications" in hopes of advancing her agenda and station in the world of punditry. The more we dig into that admittedly well-spun background... Well... I think she'd be better off without the tall tale backstory.

WONDERING ABOUT THE CARTOONS? READ THIS...

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Helter Skelter... Mike Gravel's greatest hit... I'm rendered speechless...

2008-04-03T06:46:00.000-07:00

I want to write a very long post about this. I can't.

Watch it and you'll understand.

Mike Gravel. Helter Skelter.

Found via RumpRoast.

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