Much That Is Hidden

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As we come into the homestretch in The 2007, it seems a nomination for one of my favorite rectal cavities in Joe The Troll’s monthly American Asshole poll is going to fall several lengths short. Joe has typically dug up some great choices to recognize for assholery in the next-to-last month of competition, but I had my marbles on none other than the anything-but-reverend Fred Phelps, 78, the disbarred lawyer, father of thirteen (four estranged, according to liberally-biased Wikipedia) and hate-crusading pastor of the Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka, Kansas.

Phelps and his congregation, the majority of which reportedly consists of his extended family, have made numerous headlines with their disgusting protests at military funerals. These protests are fueled by their claim that “God Almighty” is punishing the U.S. through the Iraq War because, among other things, the country is "a sodomite nation of flag-worshiping idolators." Westboro maintains several websites with names like www.godhatesfags.com, www.smellthebrimstone.com, and www.godhatesmexico.com (along with about six or seven other websites dedicated to specific deity-despised nations).

Phelps makes the AA list at Under The Bridge for the recent $10.9 million judgment against Westboro in a lawsuit filed by the father of Lance Cpl. Matthew A. Snyder. The Marine was killed in Iraq on March 3, 2006 when his transport vehicle overturned. According to the Kansas City Star, “Snyder’s Maryland funeral drew Phelps’ followers and their usual antics, such as flashing placards at the passing motorcade that read, ‘Thank God for dead soldiers’ and ‘Fag Troops’."

If organizing consummately hateful efforts to disrupt the funeral of a 20-year-old soldier, an only son described by his father as "the love of my life" isn't at the very least, as the verdict determined, an “invasion of privacy by intrusion and intentional infliction of emotional distress” upon the Snyder family, I don't know what else could be.

Phelps deserves to owe a debt to them, and hopefully the action will bankrupt the church to the point that their insane hatred is made unobtrusive. Sadly, he may get the check his ass can't cash covered by the First Amendment, which has heretofore allowed him to do all this in the name of his benevolent supreme being, including tirades against Sweden, Ireland, Hillary Clinton and, in what seems to me to be a valiant attempt to prove that he is an equal-opportunity hatemonger, Ronald Reagan, Billy Graham and Jerry Falwell (Westboro cancelled plans to pickett Falwell’s funeral as well as the services for the slain Amish school girls). The guy is pure sunshine, no?

So while the Constitution protects his acts from being technically considered criminal, it does not rescue him and his ilk from moral bankruptcy. I know they would find that laughable, but I will be glad to discuss it at Phelps’ funeral service, should they be foolish enough to schedule one after he croaks. My Day-Glo “Phelps Brand® Fertilizer is GOOD Fertilizer” sign and mega phone stand ready.
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Labels: Assholery squared, Holy Crap, rants, religion, vitriol

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Max Blumenthal, that is. Just a few days ago he took his camera and his pointed inquisitiveness to the Value Voters Summit sponsored by right-wing Christian organization Focus on the Family and its D.C. lobbying arm Family Research Council. Before seeing this I thought I'd heard every idiotic and vitriolic angle from the religious right, but I confess I was astonished by several statements made by these so-called moral people in Max's video. In the accompanying column Blumenthal speaks about the new turn by some evangelical Christians to move away from the heated dogmatic issues and address ones more in line with benefiting all of society, not just issues that exhalt the people going to heaven while excoriating the hell bound:

Recently, there has been a lot of mainstream media noise about a new, more socially conscious evangelical movement rising from the angry ashes of the Christian right. Pastors like Rick Warren and "evangelical feminist" Bill Hybels are supposedly bringing issues like the environment and poverty to the forefront of the movement's social agenda, while pushing anti-abortion and anti-gay activism to the wayside.

Alas, Max says it seems that no one told those gathered at the Value Voters Summit about this friendly new initiative, and "If anything, the movement seemed more extreme and paranoid than it did four years ago."

Check out the video from his latest adventure
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Labels: don't mix, family, Holy Crap, politix, religion, vitriol

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I received a blanket e-mail via my company's mailroom address with the subject line, "RE: CHRISTMAS STAMP What The Heck is The Matter with this Country??" Here is the message (verbatim):

I would guess that the 'Postal Chief 'must be Muslim too. I won't buy his stamp either....."And have a very 'MERRY CHRISTMAS"

Infuriating. It is true, I checked snopes.com.

CHRISTMAS STAMP

How ironic is this??!! They don't even believe in Christ and they're getting their own Christmas stamp, but don't dream of posting the ten commandments on federal property?



This one is impossible to believe. Scroll down for the text.

If there is only one thing you forward today.....let it be this!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of Pan Am Flight 103!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the World Trade Center in 1993!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the Marine Barracks in Lebanon!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the military Barracks in Saudi Arabia!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the American Embassies in Africa!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the USS COLE!

REMEMBER the MUSLIM attack on 9/11/2001!

REMEMBER all the AMERICAN lives that were lost in those vicious MUSLIM attacks!

Now the United States Postal Service REMEMBERS and HONORS the EID MUSLIM holiday season with a commemorative first class
Holiday postage stamp. Bull!

REMEMBER to adamantly and vocally BOYCOTT this stamp
When purchasing your stamps at the post office. To use this stamp would be a slap in the face to all those AMERICANS who died at the hands of those whom this stamp honors.

REMEMBER to pass this along to every patriotic AMERICAN you know!!!

The myriad wrongness here is astounding. Just taking on the most obvious point, one of our editors was enterprising enough to "Reply to All" with this clarification: "This is NOT a Christmas stamp. It marks the end of Ramadan, a Muslim holiday."

To which I, being much less of a neck sticker-outer, replied only to him: "Thank you sincerely for clarifying that for everyone that got spammed by this, Ralph [not his real name - I don't stick other people's necks out either - ed]. Perhaps there is a need to also clarify (or determine) company policy regarding unsolicited e-mails, no?"

To which Ralph [ibid] replied, this time just to me, "You wouldn't believe some of the stupid emails I got in response."

ME: "I probably would, but if you are of a mind to paraphrase, I give you my ear (eyes)."

I will update this post should Ralph forward any of the aforementioned stupidity upon me. And to bring all my readers up to speed, here be further clarification from amaana.org, a personal Shia Muslim's website (which appropriately points out in its disclaimer, "Allah says in the Quran 'Do not revile the faith of others as they may revile Allah in return"):

For the last 1400 years, over one billion Muslims throughout the world pay special attention to the esoteric (batin) matters by practising the exoteric (zaher) fasting by refraining from dishonesty, stealing, unethical actions, and other activities that would lead one astray. A Momin's (believer's) life is a journey to become one with the Essence and her daily life is a mirror of her spiritual beauty.

During Ramadan, Muslims fast from sun-up to sun-down daily, not having anything to eat, drink, smoke or indulging in sexual relations. A special feast is prepared for the breaking of the fast, where everyone present is invited to partake of the dinner after the all-day fast.

The month ends with special festivities on the Eid al-Fitr (Day of Feasting) celebration when families and friends truly rejoice for having completed the commandment of Allah by successful abstinence and by zikr (remembrance of Allah) at all times.

So now let's talk about The FEAR. The FEAR has been around a looong time, as evidenced by the ostensibly holy scripture commonly known as The Old Testament and the first book therein (paraphrased here):

Abraham said, "The fear of God ain't in this place, and they would be a-slayin' me most fersuredly."

The FEAR is no mere emotion, as is often assumed, nor are her siblings The DOGMA, The HATE, The IGNORANCE, The SCHADENFREUDE, The XENOPHOBIA and Anorexia (who has pretty much split out on her own because she is so not into the encumbrances of a definite article and all caps). The FEAR is well known among historians and especially sociologists who have researched the use of verbal influences on mental collectives. The FEAR camps near every pulpit nearly every sabbath, imbuing her self-righteous Way To Be upon the malleable masses who come to love her "enlightenment."

America is rife with The FEAR, and in recent years she has strengthened her grip outside the traditional religious territory. She's there in the media ("We now go to Ted in the newsroom, who has a report about something totally new that can screw up your life, and will just leave it at that") and of course politics, never more evident than this campaign season, where the Republicans are hot on the twisted version of FDR's adage, "We have nothing to lose but fear itself."

Yes, The FEAR has power. The FEAR is a master of divide and conquer. The FEAR got George W. Bush elected in 2004. In a vicious circle of voting block influence, The FEAR has Congress paralyzed from protecting civil liberties (oh how The FEAR hates civil liberties) and doing the decidedly un-fearful majority voter's bidding.

And now The FEAR, in a genius move that reveals the depth of her bag of tricks, has folks worrying about postage stamps. As a strong believer in Thomas Jefferson's apocryphal Wall of Separation, I can't say I'm all tickled about any religious stamp being produced in government-run facilities. But the USPS is it's own strange gig in the bureaucratic U.S. of A., and I guess if they can sponsor a bike team then they have sort of grandfathered in their right to do whatever the hell they please. Like any retail business, the bulk of their profits comes during the winter Saturnalia frenzy, so I wish them gods peed luck <-- derived from Lucifer, BTW <-- in their endeavors to prosper.

What's bothering me is this endless parade of The FEAR among people who supposedly have an all-powerful savior who, through some sanguineous transubstantiation, is supposed to have their back. C'mon, Christians! Jesus Up for Christ's sake! If you don't want to vote for a Muslim, fine. But don't characterize ONE man's victory to the House of Representatives as some pre-apocalyptic abomination that justifies questioning his qualifications. Along the same lines, it's a fucking postage stamp, OK? You (nor I, for that matter) are compelled to buy it because it doesn't appeal or apply to us. End of story, not beginning of boycott. And ohmylord the Postal Chief [sic] is a Muslim? That's gotta be one of the seals cracking open, surely.

"What The Heck is The Matter with this Country?"

Indeed.
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Labels: Assholery squared, don't mix, Holy Crap, politix, rants, religion, The FEAR, TJ

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Oh gawd has it been sweltering in the sultry southern states. We've had triple digits the past several days, and no rain in sight. It's neither a good time to be a farmer nor a farm animal. While my tolerance for my native northern cold has become totally wussified, my fortitude against the southern dog days has improved little if at all. I feel like Pvt. Jerome in Biloxi Blues - "Man it's hot. It's like Africa hot. Tarzan couldn't take this kind of hot."

Well here's fun little story for you. About a month ago our central a/c went kaput. We sent for a man to come peruse the situation and he determined that we had a "porous coil," and since the unit was 11 years old, both the inside and outside units needed to be replaced because all new equipment is on a higher efficiency rating. I was inclined to feel like I did when I took my first car in (1973 Chevy Nova Hatchback) for an oil leak and the mechanic said, "Weeell, you might need a whole new car..." without a trace of sarcasm in his drawl. Anyway, we called for a second opinion and upon inspection of the outside unit No. 2 says, "That's a big old hole in the side there." Porous indeed - it looked like it had been attacked with a hatchet. No. 2 confirmed the "whole new car" theory and backed it up with a quote of only $4,850, tax included. I asked him if the hole looked like mechanical failure. "None that I've ever seen," was his reply. So near as I can figure some neighbor punk came around whilst we were away or Mr. No. 1 was trying to upgrade his service call.

Long story shortened: homeowner's insurance say "okey-dokey," and after three weeks of no central air (we borrowed a couple of window units that barely staved off insanity) we're in the cucumber business once more.
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Labels: global warming, heat, Holy Crap, homeowner, madness, The South

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"Wait! Where are you going? I was going to make Espresso!"

I continue posting with an unfortunate nexus, that being the death of Peter Boyle, one of my favorite actors - the connection being that John Lennon was best man at Peter’s wedding. “We were both seekers after a truth, looking for a quick way to enlightenment,” Peter once said of Lennon.

Peter, 71, died Tuesday evening at New York Presbyterian Hospital.

His most famous film role is arguably that of the monster in Mel Brooks’ 1974 Young Frankenstein, with it’s classic scene of Peter and Gene Wilder decked out in tails, tapping (and bellowing) out their wacky version of Irving Berlin’s Puttin’ On The Ritz.

The story of how he met his wife Loraine Alterman is somewhat famous. As a reporter for Rolling Stone, she was visiting on the set of Young Frankenstein and Boyle, still in monster makeup, asked her for a date.

His last role, that of the churlish and vinegary Frank Barone in the sitcom Everybody Loves Raymond, a role he played for 10 years, is also widely known.

“He's just obnoxious in a nice way, just for laughs,” Peter once said of Frank, through whom he inserted the signature phrase “Holy Crap!” at the most comically opportune times.

When Peter tried out for the role, however, he was kept waiting for his audition - and he was not happy. “He came in all hot and angry,” recalled the show's creator, Phil Rosenthal, “and I hired him because I was afraid of him. But I knew right away that he had a comic presence.”

Co-star Doris Roberts, who played his wife Marie on Raymond said Peter was not at all like the character he played on television. “He was a brilliant actor, a gentleman, incredibly intelligent, wonderfully well read and a loving friend.”

The son of a local TV personality in Philadelphia, Peter was educated in Roman Catholic schools and spent three years in a monastery before abandoning his religious studies. He later described the experience as similar to living in the Middle Ages. He left to become an actor when he “felt the normal pull of the world and the flesh.”

He traveled to New York to study with famed actress/teacher Uta Hagen, supporting himself for five years with various jobs, including postal worker, waiter, maitre d' and office temp. Finally, he was cast in a road company version of The Odd Couple. When the play reached Chicago he quit to study with that city's famed improvisational troupe Second City. Upon returning to New York, he began to land roles in TV commercials, off-Broadway plays and finally films.

His early roles had him typecast in tough, irascible roles, but he began to escape that image as Robert Redford's campaign manager in The Candidate and left it behind entirely after Young Frankenstein. He won an Emmy in 1996 for his guest-starring role as a morose clairvoyant in an episode of The X Files, in which he uttered the hilarious line, “Sometimes it seems like everyone is having sex but me.” He also received Emmy nominations Everybody Loves Raymond and for the 1977 TV film Tail Gunner Joe, in which he played Sen. Joseph McCarthy. In Martin Scorcese’s 1976 film Taxi Driver he played philosopher cabbie Wizard, who counseled Robert DeNiro’s violent Travis Bickle with the sage advice, “You get a job. You become the job.” He did dozens of other films, including the two classic comedies Johnny Dangerously and Yellowbeard.

In 1990 Peter had a stroke and couldn't talk for six months. In 1999, he had a heart attack on the Raymond set. He soon regained his health, however, and returned to the series.

Despite his work in Everybody Loves Raymond and other Hollywood productions, Peter made New York City his home. He and his wife had two daughters, Lucy and Amy.

Thanks to the Associated Press and Internet Movie Database for contributing nearly all of this post. I love you guys.

Labels: arts, comedy, film, Holy Crap, remembrance, TV