The Week That Was

• A bumpersticker I saw yesterday: "Where am I going and why am I in this handbasket?"
• I'm beginning to think that Big Brother (the dictator, not the show) may not be such a bad idea. All around there are plenty of indications that people are completely incapable of handling freedom. I'm no exception. I look down at the steadily growing spare tire around my waist and realize that I can't be trusted to maintain my own body. Take my advice, everybody, and get in on a job that will give you power in the totalitarian future. They'll love us.
• Today is St. Patrick's Day, and since it falls on a Friday, the Archbishop of Omaha gave Catholics permission to eat meat so they can have their corned beef. I can't imagine needing permission to eat what I want, but then again, I refer you to the point above.
• Speaking of Catholics, I don't mean to offend, but I don't understand some of the things you give up for Lent. Some that I've heard over the years: chocolate, sugar, sugared soda, caffeine, usually food of some kind. My dad and I were discussing this and he asked, "how come you never hear of people swearing off gossip or hypocrisy or dishonesty?" Indeed.
• This is a little after the fact, but George Clooney has really been under my skin ever since the Oscars. I had to chuckle at his acceptance speech, where he patted himself on the back for being "out of touch" in a good way, such as talking about AIDS when it "was just a whisper." Nice try, George, but you (Hollywood) came late to the party on that one. I'm old enough to remember that AIDS was anything but a whisper. Hollywood was nearly ten years late addressing the AIDS issue.
• And what about Clooney's assertion that "we talked about civil rights when it wasn't really popular." Talk is cheap. In over 70 years, there have been only 18 black best actor/actress nominations and 3 wins. One name did come to mind when George mentioned civil rights, though: Charlton Heston. I have a sentimental soft spot for Heston. I always loved watching "Ben Hur" and "The Ten Commandments" as a kid. Heston marched for civil rights long before it was popular. He sat at segregated lunch counters. He hand-picked Rosalind Cash to be his co-star in "The Omega Man" at a time when black female leads were nearly unheard of. He took up arms against fascism in WWII. Yet all George could say about Heston was to mock his Alzheimer's disease, and when given a chance to take it back, said "he deserves whatever anyone says about him." Why? Because he was president of the NRA. So much for that vaunted liberal tolerance. You're full of a lot of hot air, George, but how do your actions stack up against the towering artistic and humanitarian achievements of Charlton Heston?
• Speaking of movies, I finally saw "Walk the Line," the Johnny Cash movie. I highly recommend it. Joaquin Phoenix is nothing short of amazing. It goes way beyond a simple impression of a legend. It reminded me of Anthony Hopkins in "Nixon," where they don't really look like the historical subjects they're portraying, but you believe every second of it. The actors did their own singing, which is a huge risk, but they pull it off. I read a review that claimed I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between Phoenix's singing and Cash's. That's bullshit, but still a great performance.
  
• There are grumblings that George Bush launched this latest major assault in Iraq to prop up his sagging poll numbers. Of course, the right wing commentators harrumph at this idea, but I figure if Bill Clinton is capable of launching military actions to distract from Monica's grand jury testimony, then George is capable of something similar. Politics is all about power, acquiring it and keeping it. It matters not if you're of the party of the elephant or the jackass. Those who lust for power will sacrifice any person or principle to get it and keep it.
• I promise never again to post a picture of my ass, unless you'd like to see the pics we took after a chocolate lab bit me on the tushie.
• And finally, I'd like to share a moment with my daughter, Laura, that I'm sure I'll remember on my deathbed:

Have a great weekend.