The Philanthropic Philanderer and other Random Nonsense

I'm taken aback by the public's surprise over the recent Tiger Woods revelations. It doesn't turn my head, even if all the allegations are true. The guy's a super type-A personality (type AAA?) and I've known enough of them that I'm wise to their tendencies. Like the others I'd fit into this category, Woods has never come off as a "good guy" to me; in fact, I always thought he at least occasionally shops at the Jerk Store and might well be a regular customer. Personally, I'll take John Daly any day - he at least keeps his skeletons out on parade for all to see (even takes them on tour). John doesn't lock them up in a closet - they can develop a particularly concentrated rare trapped in there, as Tiger is discovering now.

On top of - and I'm sure enhancing - the driving type-A+ dickdom, Woods is one of the most famous and praised people on the planet, always the center of attention where ever he goes. Mix those ingredients all together in a (fish) bowl and bake it in the oven of the 24/7 media circus for a dozen or so years, you shouldn't be surprised if you don't end up with at least a couple of cookies on the tray fucking around on their partners. Sure, he gives back some healthy coin to charitable causes and donates time in that regard every now and then. That's just good business. The business of nurturing the Tiger Brand. And he'd been pretty savvy at that or so it seemed.

If some of the more outlandish behavior does turn out to be true (and we may never know), I am a bit surprised that he went about it so seemingly carelessly. Especially given all he has to lose. You may have noticed that he doesn't like to lose. It just seems very out-of-character for a guy who takes calculation and strategy to a level very few people reach. But it's not all that uncommon for those who are grappling in the depths of addiction to forgo the disciplines that come second nature in all other aspects of their lives, especially when they are in the midst of feeding their compulsion. Believe me, I know from where I speak. I'm not suggesting that's what's at work here with Tiger, but it's possible.

Okay, that's about three paragraphs more than I promised myself I'd devote to this particular fallen idol. After all, it's not the typical hard news I like to cover on these pages. You know me - always and only important topics like ...

• Paris Hilton Tweets. Maybe I've got the vowels wrong there.
• Dead Jacko. Is he still entombed? Or did they pull him out of the mausoleum for the holidays? As a sort of Christmas Tree replacement.
  
• The War in Afghanietnam. Apocalypse Now II - Colonel Kurtz Jr. Conquers Tora Bora. "I love the smell of Heroin Poppies in the morning." I'm sure our Prez Barack O'Johnson .. er, I mean Obama wouldn't miss the premiere of this one. Just kidding, Mr. Prez. I hope. What's that I hear? "One two three, what are we fighting for? I don't know, I don't give a damn, next stop's Afghanistan ..." Country Joe, time for a second act?
  
• The Endless Healthcare Roundabout. It appears our intrepid lawmakers are determined to debate the already-compromised-beyond-use legislation into literal nothingness - in fact, approaching anti-matter - perhaps agreeing simply to mail two aspirin out to every citizen and be done with it. I only wish Mr. Smith goes to Washington was real. And by that, I mean the remake envisioned by Homer Simpson and realized by Mel Gibson, Lethal Weapon-style:
  

Or something to that effect. Perhaps Maureen put it best here so I'll leave her with the last word on the Tiger and his Tail, at least from my corner of the world. Unless Woods goes bonkers and decides the best way to redeem his public image is an appearance on Dancing with the Stars with his new dance partner, Boy George. Should that happen I'm sure I'll have something to say, if only "I told you so." Because I did. Here.

It's the first real day of my vacation this week and I've thus far resisted logging into work email. I can tell my inbox is filling to burst, though. I can feel it. Cries from the great unwashed. Well, they'll just have to learn to clean themselves or stay dirty until Monday 'cause I've got more important things to do. Hawaii Five-0 is on, after all. The best ham and cheese to ever grace the small screen. Jack "The" Lord doesn't just chew the scenery, he lays out the silverware, slaps on the ketchup and wolfs it down with gusto. A great one today. Some disgraced ex-cop McGarrett had thrown off the force way back when for rampant corruption is now exacting his revenge, tormenting Steve-O, leaving anonymous threats and crazy non-clues and ultimately pinning a death sentence on the Governor (the Gov's assassination would ruin McGarrett's career apparently "because I'm responsible for his safety").

Five-0 commercials find me alternating between the beginnings of the pages of Third and Indiana and the rest of the HBO Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Concert resting out on my DVR. Springsteen and Rage against the Machine's Tom Morello doing Ghost of Tom Joad is incendiary (apologies to William Miller).

And the beat goes on ...

Of Norse Gods and Giants and Amercian Goats and Shit

My Norwegian compadres on the Nobel committee did nether the US or Obama any favors by awarding the Peace Prize to our neophyte President, however noble their intentions (bad pun unfortunately intended).

True, he's made the world more amenable toward peace simply by not being George W. Bush and he's pretty good at it. I personally think he's mostly making the right moves, though at a much more leisurely pace than I would have liked.  Oh sure, there are a bunch of little things that bother me about what Obama's done or not done on one issue or another. There always will be until someone elects me president.  Even then, I'd find a way to find fault with some of my decisions immediately upon making them (perhaps especially then).   All in all, though, Obama's doing okay.

But the Nobel Peace Prize?

At the end of the day, Obama's the commander in chief responsible for two wars of our own making and it doesn't really matter that he inherited them. He's clearly accelerating the Afghan campaign and to my eyes not made nearly enough progress in getting us out of the muck that is Iraq.   And nothing else he's accomplished besides not being Bush has had time to bear fruit yet.  Perhaps they need a Nobel Not-Bush Prize.  Barack totally deserves that one.

And of course there are the downsides to winning a Nobel Prize for nebulous reasons: The right wing fear mongers now have more fodder for monging ("it's a vast worldwide leftist conspiracy!").  These are the people that cheered the news that we didn't get the 2016 Olympics because Obama lobbied to get it.  I imagine they'd cheer firebombing of orphanages if Obama came out against the idea.

But enough of this political claptrap - let's talk about important things, like Marge Simpson at long last making the cover of Playboy Magazine.  Alas, no Jessica Rabbit style centerfold to go along with it, but it shows that cartoon cougars can be bad too (well, not bad; just drawn that way).

I'm sitting here watching Discovery Health (naturally; what's an old fogy going to do on a Friday night?) and on comes yet another commercial by a company whose advertisements seem isolated to this channel: Home Delivery Incontinent Supplies (HDIS).   I've never seen so much as a reference to them anywhere else.  Know thy demographic.  And so they do, but I hope I won't need their services for a good long time.

I've mentioned HDIS in a prior posting, but it bears repeating for those who missed it: this company caters solely to those whose bladders and bowels are so out of control that they can't make it through the checkout line at the supermarket without leaving a trail of piss and shit in their wake.  Or maybe to those who are simply embarrassed to roll up to the "15 items or less" aisle and get yelled at by the gum popping teenager working the register for having 15 packs of Depends and a large block of cheese ("that's 16 items shit-for-brains!").   Who wants that?  Let HDIS ship your bowel and bladder control needs right to the front door!  Another bushel of butt plugs for the Petersons!

On that bright note I catch a glance at the clock: 11:20pm, time for bed.  Gotta get caught up on my reading: The Men who Stare at Goats has been teed up on my nightstand for a while and I've only gotten a few pages into it.

Goats, Shit, Piss and the Nobel Peace Prize.  Who could ask for anything more?

ATM Thieves strike at my Heart of Darkness - Afghan Monopoly anyone?

It seems thieves stole an ATM from my local hospital simply by disguising themselves as repairmen from the bank and hauling the thing away.

Pretty ballsy!

As someone who was subjected to the "care" provided by that institution for the better part of a week a few years ago, I can't say part of me isn't at least a little pleased by this turn of events. Hopefully the hospital is liable for this and the bank can put the screws to them much like they did to me.

Their caper nabbed them 96 grand, eh? Oddly, that was roughly my bill for sadism ... er, services rendered at that medieval butchery barn.

Not that I'm bitter.


On to the world stage, this week feels a bit like the 60s: the Beatles are the hottest thing in music and we've got an escalating war in Asia that once had a very narrow, very specific purpose but whose goals now seem anything but clear. The question on my mind? Is Obama LBJ or is he RFK minus the tragic demise? The entrenched president bird dogged by a meandering, unwinnable war without purpose or the guy who would liberate us from such entanglements?

I thought Bush was playing the role of LBJ in this bit of revisionism, with Iraq filling in as his Vietnam understudy. (The analogy is not fair to Johnson: LBJ didn't get us into Vietnam, certainly he didn't invade the country on a foundation of lies and God-bestowed self-righteousness. But you get my point.)

Obama certainly seemed every bit the early 21st century Robert Kennedy on the campaign trail, but things are looking a bit less clear nine months into his administration. However, it is only nine months and he was given a heaping helping of domestic shit to work through as well, so he deserves another year before I start pinning the Johnson badge on his chest. Bobby had the 'advantage' of never having to fulfill those lofty expectations. And to be sure, dying prior to taking office is the ultimate advantage in this narrow context.

Obama really isn't superman, though, despite some media attempts to color him with that brush. He can't simply make Iraq and Afghanistan go away in a blink of an eye without suffering the consequences (real and political). I just hope he realizes that it's not 'anything goes' now in Afghanistan simply because we had some justification going into there eight years ago. Define the mission - do it fucking fast and make it really clear.

In the end, historical comparisons are easy but they're also cheap and false. It's 2009 not 1969. I know, the clock on my desktop tells me (and I'm not at a desk). Also, the music on the celestial radio sucks.

We went into Afghanistan for one reason and one reason only: to hunt down and kill/capture bin Laden and other Al Qaeda operatives. The Taliban were secondary, a means to an end. Can we ever eradicate them from a leadership position in that neck of the woods? Not through military means. We should just head into the mountains of Tora Bora from both sides (hello, Pakistan) and be done with it (likely that's what we've been doing on the QT in piecemeal fashion, but it hasn't gotten us anywhere).

Or better still: just forget bin Laden and his ilk. He's not worth it and this whole eye-for-an-eye thing smacks of fifth grade, in my book. He's much more influential among radicals as a martyr, killed by the great Satan. Leave him to die quietly of old age or, more likely, the various maladies he reportedly suffers from. If we do kill him, I hope to hell we don't reveal it. Maybe we already have. No, we don't know how to keep a fucking secret to save our lives (in this case, literally). We gotta be the braggarts, showing off our spoils of war. I hope I'm wrong.

So, nothing particularly funny here today. I'm in a funk to the point where even California Republican Assemblyman Mike Duvall's pornographic chatter about his trysts with female lobbyists, actually uttered during a legislative hearing, couldn't lift my spirits.

One thing that just might stamp out the blues is the launch of Monopoly City Streets. Finally an online game I want to play! And I will. At least once they iron out their scalability opening day jitters.

Let's tie this all together and play Afghan Monopoly. How many hotels can you buy on the road to Kandahar? Careful not to land on the - well, land mines as you negotiate your way around the "board". Draw a "card" now. Oh, too bad! The Americans have napalmed your poppy crops - you lose a turn. Sounds like a 'blast'. I'm in as long as I can be the armored Bradley fighting shoe.