Shocked by the inutterable visage before me, I coiled, nay, cringed, bringing my arm before my face in a desperate attempt to block the gloomy significance of the spirit's gaze. It was, shockingly, the ghost of Natalee Holloway, wearing a pendant that bore the image of the Michael Jackson victim. She held in her fingers a note scrawled in an unearthly hand on a desolate piece of vapor-thin paper. Those gloomy eyes bore an infinite glaze, a sheen more glistening than even the most vivid HD TV broadcast, and on seeing myself reflected in those eyes I understood the perfection of heaven.
As a calm spread across me, the ghost vanished, leaving the note to flutter to the ground. I scrambled on my knees to where the note fell. It read:
In heaven I am touching palms with Marcel Proust. I eat cotton candy made by Payne Stewart. Every weekend, I drink with Bon Scott. You must complete your task to join me here.
Needless to say, I immediately thought better of my earlier criticisms of Maureen Dowd and David Brooks.
My only hope is that indictments of Rove and Libby arrive just before November 2006. Scoundrels! Con sarnit!
Anyway, I want to proclaim that I will be working headily for the next several days on a complex poem about Terri Schiavo. It will debut here when it is complete. I want to take things even further, and the time is now, because, with Schiavo, the time is ALWAYS now.
Enough also of my previously mentioned whoring of my subject lines to Technorati in an attempt at drawing in visitors. Most of the visitors are just would be advertisers anyway, it's an endless spiral of reflective promotion that was once called the internet bubble. The few tentacular areas of stable internet commerce should enjoy their hey-day while it lasts. Parity has been slow in coming, but it always is, if it ever really comes at all.
Suddenly it occurred to me; having lived in Connecticut since the age of ten, one would think that the Blue Laws were explained to me as part of "Connecticut's History" somewhere along the way at one of the schools I attended, but no, instead they were only referenced in passing, explained-away hold-overs from days of yore... When I got home, I immediately ran (as I always do) to my computer and looked up "Blue Laws" on Wikipedia. These laws were instituted and published by the initial colonizers of New Haven in 1656. They are absolutely insane, especially taken out of (historical) context.
Here are my favorite excerpts:
The judges shall determine controversies without a jury.
No food or lodging shall be afforded to a Quaker, Adamite, or other Heretic.
No Priest shall abide in this Dominion: he shall be banished, and suffer death on his return. Priests may be seized by any one without a warrant.
No woman shall kiss her child on the Sabbath or fasting-day.
A drunkard shall have a master appointed by the selectmen, who are to debar him from the liberty of buying and selling.
No minister shall keep a school.
Whoever wears clothes trimmed with gold, silver, or bone lace, above two shillings by the yard, shall be presented by the grand jurors, and the selectmen shall tax the offender at £300 estate.
A debtor in prison, swearing he has no estate, shall be let out and sold, to make satisfaction.
Whoever sets a fire in the woods, and it burns a house, shall suffer death; and persons suspected of this crime shall be imprisoned, without benefit of bail.
No one shall read Common-Prayer, keep Christmas or saints-days, make minced pies, dance, play cards, or play on any instrument of music, except the drum, trumpet, and the jews-harp.
Married persons must live together, or be imprisoned.
Okay, we see how impractical many of these laws are today... Is the prohibition on the sale of alcohol on Sunday not just as impractical. If there is any rational, secular explanation for this ban, I'd be very interested to hear it.
The best part was watching Bush, the physical man, respond to these desperate women. The white-shirted girl was angry, and he was slower to embrace her, but after a few minutes (by the way, both women had clearly Anglo-Caribbean accents and most likely were not American) she succumbed to the Presidential presence and engaged in one PR triumph of a hug with our cudly leader... It was soul-touching. Hope this makes all of this a little clearer.
To Hunter S. Thompson, Cindy Sheehan & Terri Schiavo, Our Reigning Media Saints: But Where's Natalee?
I must confess that before Nostradamus revealed "Dutch Paradise", the story of Natalee Holloway was but a remote constellation in my hypothalamus (it's a bit down the page, which is really quite informative on the whole, so I suggest you read the whole thing!), which, according to some authorities, "controls temperature". I attribute my current raging fever to Nostradamus and that ethereal song.
I'm really quite sick. It's got me thinking about something regarding the right to die.
I am a stalwart.
Anyway, enough silliness, time to get serious. My favorite new series on HBO is not the much hyped Rome, which I find entertaining in a kind of Six Feet Under sort of way, but is instead Epitafios, a hard hitting Spanish Language crime drama set in Argentina... Check it out, I promise you won't be disappointed.
Somehow I feel like the late great man would appreciate the meaninglessness of all of this. I think he would also approve of the newly installed ad-bar... I've got to find out from Finnegan how much revenue these Google Ads generate.... My guess would be, given my generally pretty low readership, not very much, but if I can "technorati" my way into some hundred visitor days, who knows.
Oh yeah, Hurricane Rita has been far less devestating than my prophetic visions led me to believe... Sorry, my bad.
For those of you who haven't been, please visit Jesus Knows Best. He blogs right, he blogs pure.
Another funny blog I found...
Want to get my prose style more automated. Want to sound less individualistic, more sloth-like, or if possible, cyber...
I, however, remain opposed to excessive use of punctuation, especially graphical stand-ins like :)...
If you check out this site, I might visit yours. Mine is pet-neutering related...
When will this "democratic" spread of advertising cease? When will we realize that unfettered capitalism is not democracy?
Those readers who grew up in the New York Metro Area will remember Marla's role in the disastrous divorce of Donald and Ivana Trump.
This was back in the days when the New York Daily News was at the heights of its tabloid power... It was also back in the days before the first WTC bombing and the rampage of Colin Ferguson. In short, it was a more innocent, if much smuttier, time. Would we were back in your hey-day with you Marla!
I for one think it's a load of baloney. Look at how the "anonymous source" (we all know it was Rove!) sugar-coats the President's drinking by explaining it as a "human" failing in the face of the "more-than-human" suffering inflicted upon America lately by Katrina and (I predict) Rita. Pathetic.
The cloud castle is burst. It's time to play paddy-cake with the sun.
On top of Frist's corruption, we have psychotic lobbyist Jack Abramoff's sequence of misdeeds and relentless abuses of congressional favor.
Oh yes, there's also Thomas Noe, who somehow lost $50,000,000 of the Ohio Pension fund in bad coin deals... I refuse to call this event "coingate". Enough with the gates already.
While we're at it let's not forget the blatant cronyism evidenced by the now deposed FEMA director Michael Brown's appointment! A real mission for bloggeurs: Let's "smoke out of their holes" every Bush crony currently serving where we would be better served with a qualified diplomat/bureaucrat.
As the Red Sox fall out of first place, and Derek Lowe and Pedro Martinez continue to pitch well for their new teams, I am brought to make some remarks about the time since Boston's miraculous victory.
Immediately after this, with Curt Schilling stumping, Bush was re-elected. Shilling has had a terrible year, struggling to return from a serious injury much too quickly. If he had rested, instead of traveling around the country in October blathering about how great Christ Jr. Bush is, perhaps this wouldn't have been a problem. Moron.
'Dro, my beloved 'Dro, has kept his jeri curl in tact and made the Mets look periodically legit this year with, surprise surprise, great pitching. Though Lowe's record is only 11-14 for the hapless Dodgers, his 3.45 ERA surely would have garnered at least 15-20 wins in 33 starts for Boston.
It was in late December, as all of Red Sox nation basked in the glory of the season past and marveled at the consistent Patriot's run into the playoffs, the Tsunami devestated Asia. Hundreds of thousands died. Whole economies were wiped out. The region has barely begun to rehabilitate itself. The media response was significant, and, you'll recall, Bush was remonstrated by many for his failure to respond quickly.
In February, the NHL canceled its season.
In late March, Terri Schiavo died, with President Bush failing to save her. I might add, while judicial activism is quite righly anethema to Conservatives, legislative activism is their favored mode, especially when it can be employed at the expense of the Constitution.
John Paul II died on April 2. He was then replaced by, naturally, a reformed Hitler-youth-turned-Cardinal, Pope Ratzinger.
In May, Natalee Holloway, a recent high-school graduate, disappeared after spending a rowdy night in Aruba with Joran Van Der Sloot and the Kalpoe brothers. She, like the weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, has not been found.
On June 14, Michael Jackson was acquitted of molestation and kidnapping.
In July, Sandra Day O'Connor retired, giving a dim-witted, ideology-controlled, science/knowledge-hating, faith-base-prostrated President Bush the opportunity to nominate a Supreme Court Justice.
Then In late August, as the world focused on the President's inept handling of the Iraq War thanks to the protest launched by American Heroine Cindy Sheehan, Hurricane Katrina hit the gulf coast, leading to the most unbelievable images from the New Orlean's convention center, punctuated most profoundly by the repeated chants of "help!" by the beleaguered, poor, and largely black New Orleaneans...
FEMA took some 7 days to fully mobilize, while Bush likewise stuck to his "justify-the-war" stump campaign days into the crisis... Then William Rehnquist died, and Roberts was re-nominated as Chief Justice. Amazing. Word on the street is Bush wants a real hardliner in there now. Wonderful.
Then, finally, after all this calamity, that pilot managed to land that plane safely last night, and a glimmer of hope returned to the pan-optic death grip media holds over all of our lives. Happy day.
Oh wait, I forgot, Hurrican Rita is near!
Let's all remember that, of all of these, by far the most covered story was the Tragical Case of Terri Schiavo, with Holloway running a close second.
Erik the Red
Greatest Person Ever #-6 is the tremendously important Viking, father of Leif and namer of Greenland, Erik Torvaldsson. Exiled from Iceland in 982 for, you guessed it, murder, he sailed west and found the land he would name Greenland.
Brilliant explorer, beloved patron of Death/Media, Erik the Red, we salute you!
Anyway, let's all hope that this Hurricane doesn't impact Cindy Sheehan's bus tour at all.
Quick aside. I'm replacing the medicine cabinet/mirror in my bathroom, so for the time being their is a strange hole that allows one to look within the frightening interior of this 1950's nightmare apartment building... Much to my surprise, I noticed a strange initialing in some caulk. It read:
If that's not a prophecy of a certain blog, I don't know what is.
Heaven and Cheap Cigars
Special thanks to Arlo Harshenstein for providing percussion, keyboards, and the brief vocal at the song's start.
I hope it pleases you, beloved fans.
(Editor's Note: This song, while not officially Schiavo-geared, is certifiably Schiavo-related)
Way to go Cindy. We love you. If I were capable of being unironical, I'd say I even support your cause. But I don't want to kvetch and explain myself differently here than elsewhere.
Really, we're not just obsessed (in a semi-hysterical way) with all media sensations, however meaningless or meaningful, and this certainly isn't an attempt at an assimilation of the total, soul destroying weight of media culture.
BTW, at several times during the rally I was tempted to scream "We love you Terri!" ACTUAL Rod and Lucy were both with me, and though I didn't do it, I told them I was thinking of it which to my mind was just as good. More Schiavo, er, Sheehan, photos soon.
I am happy to report that I am able to do some actual reporting today. I attended the Cindy Sheehan "Bring Them Home Now" rally on the New Haven Green, and I was able to capture some stunning images of the proceedings, including a brief video clip (with audio) of Cindy herself.
Those of you who have listened to the "Cindy Sheehan" song will understand how momentous an occasion this really, truly was.
Our first image is of a heated verbal argument/confrontation that broke out between an anti-war (pro Sheehan) man and two female pro-war (anti-Sheehan) women. They had some obnoxious signs about how questioning the war was hurting soldiers families, etc... As I drew close to this fight, desperate for any kind of a story at this largely predictable, if spirited, event, I heard the large man who is in the center of the shot say "You have no right to bring my sexuality into matters. This is not your place. I demand a public apology." At several moments different people tried to intervene, but I, sensing the possibility of violence, lingered, hoping the argument would "flare again"...
During one speech (one of Cindy's opening acts) a member of the Veterans of the Iraq War for Peace group made some hilarious remarks about a pro-war protest sign... He then made these same protesters "look the fool" by pointing out a spelling error on their sign! It was a real laugh riot!
I am having some download issues with my digital camera, but once they are resolved I will have more to say, including some close-ups of Cindy, and the aforementioned video clip.
Anyway, Jeb Bush's son was arrested for being drunk. Hey bud, it happens to the best of us. And my guess is, with a name like Bush, it probably won't hurt you too much in the long run.
"Death/Media: An American Phenomenon from the Kennedy Assassination to the Schiavo Assassination"
Those who know me well will realize that the chances of me actually completing such an article are rather slim, especially with my recent attempts at "getting serious" for my upcoming grad-school aps... But, those who know me even better will realize that if I find a project to work on to prevent myself from "getting serious", I will probably put 10X too much effort into it and never actually "get serious" at all.
One is about recent SCOTUS happenings.
The other is either a plaintive indie-jazz tune, or a syrupy satire of Karl Rove. I can't tell yet which set of lyrics works best. The SCOTUS song is less "avant-garde" than Sheehan or Aruba, a "back to the roots of Schiavo" effort, if you will. Watch out, they will be stuck in your head forever before you know it.
"Your Holiness, do events like the hurricane shake your faith?"
Great question Larry. He then cuts his Holiness off and goes to Osteen, who spouts a bunch of Christian nonsense about how "we can't understand God's ways so why question them"... Great.
"Pastor, would you agree that 'hope' is the prime message?"
"Yes Larry, hope is all we have...etc."
My God. Larry King is unbelievably stupid. After the Pastor finished, Larry felt obliged to note:
"I notice his holiness is nodding his head."
Here is, shock of shocks, the next song in the catalogue of horrors I am compiling. Please, enjoy:
Aruba (Dutch Paradise)
I am really on a roll with these, I hope this one proves as succesful as the previous two. It's all for you guys, the fans.
Thanks again to Lucy for her contribution, this time in the role of "Cindy". If I can stay inspired (unlikely) I'll try to churn out 10 more of these puppies and then release the first Nostradamus Marquis album. If not, at least I'll give a few laughs to my loyal friends and readers.
Terri Schiavo Died
This is just a rough draft, so to speak, a sign of more to come. Special thanks to Lucy for singing the part of "Terri". Nostradamus's vocal during the "she died" refrain is meant to be the voice of the Archangel Michael. That Michael didn't betray her, but then again, no one gets betrayed.... IN HEAVEN!!!
But thankfully, my beloved friends came to the show. I even got an ActualGod.blogspot.com shout out in there, and I forgot to include Rod in a listing of audience members (there were 10 people at most)... Ah shucks, everyone has bad nights I guess. But Nostradamus, at least, felt the love.
Can we impeach him for gross negligence in the wake of a disaster? Or does it have to be a moral failure? Oh wait, I guess in some people's estimation failing to act as thousands starved to death would be considered a moral failure.
I am a traitor to all causes. I am Nostradamus. The blogger you have known before is dead. There is only one victual now, the undulating heart of the perceived truth. Rhythms and textures are seldom as truculant as when in my grasp here, in the central hall of being, where waking waits a gift that presures morning. Nostradamus integrates the passage of time between your reading and knowing, so as to display, so as to be brave before the tawns and paws of the lion's purr. Fly Simba, for you would not know my wrath, you would not be bemused by my firm gesturing, you wish to see my pure only darkly. Come into sun my errant face and let mistakes blow by me as the leaves, come in exactitude, come in replenishment! We wander waiting home.
Just kidding. I guess. Really, this SCOTUS situation is truly abominable, especially in light of the recent demonstration of Presidential ineptitude, the so-called "hurricane relief effort".
It is incredible, I'm sure, for people of faith especially, to see their elected President fail them so utterly. It's like illogical religious presentiments arendt a substitute for planning and science after all!
It is equally incredible for those of us who have opposed this administration from its inception to see its ineptitude realized so poignantly and brutally in the images of the last few days.
There is nothing to say.
Despite this particultar demonstration of failure by Bush, the ads continue to play, Roberts is touted and tolerated, and we all jolt a little and almost pay attention, as the fires burn. Another name will get shuffled through the deck, and we, powerless, will repeat, along the currently elected lines. A new Chief Justice, perhaps Scalia, will be put in place. New Orleans will have drowned. Bush will placate criticicisms. And wilt. America will wilt with him, without a leader with the proper resolve, without a congressional, pardon the term, insurgency. Death/Media Incarante will be watching.
What pundits don't realize, concurrently, is that Kanye West's anger is real, and that arguments about appropriateness are beyond ludacris.
Last night was one to remember. I finally met the legendary Tom of DelinoDeShields.com. He's possibly the only person I've ever met who takes blogging as seriously as it should be taken. Bravo, I can't wait for his next post.
Oh yeah, New Orleans is completely destroyed, and about 1000 Iraqis died in a horrendous stampede.
But Natallee still has not been found! Let's hope the searchers in Aruba aren't diverted to help with the relief effort in New Orleans, because, well, that would be a waste of valuable searching resources.