If you send me an e-mail on the weekend and I don’t respond immediately, please to forgive. I’ve started trying to make at least 36 hours of the weekend internet-free. It’s an intention that doesn’t always work out, but when it does, I’m able to go almost a day without knowing the biggest political story of the day was that Sarah Palin wrote something on her hand.
People, please. Obviously, it’s funny. Obviously, it’s what she might call kinda ironical-like, given that it came in a speech with yet another crack about Obama and his TelePromTer. But as they say: Consider the source. This is she-who trying to recapture what turned out to be the high point of her career — her speech in St. Paul at the GOP convention. And based on what I saw and read (and cousin, you couldn’t pay me enough to watch the whole thing) it wasn’t even that good — your basic goulash of god-bless-America and thank-you-soldiers-for-our-freedom, and the obligatory backhand to the “professor of law” currently occupying the Oval Office. Your basic red meat for the knuckle-draggers, all delivered completely off the top of her head, because of course she doesn’t use a ‘prompter. Neither did George W. Bush.
If you want to get upset, read…well, you better read this first, the Cliff’s Notes version of yet another I-think-I’ve-got-Obama’s-pedigree-doped-out think piece, and then, only if you dare to swim in slime on a crisp winter morning, should you read the comments on the original piece, because cousin, nothing anyone ever said about Sarah Palin’s baby even comes close.
That’s the second time I’ve used “cousin” as an interjection today. Can you tell I saw “Inglourious Basterds” this weekend? A hoot. We ain’t in the pris’ner-takin’ bidness, we in the Nazi-killin’ bidness, and cousin? Bidness is a-boomin’. Finally, a use for Brad Pitt’s lazy tongue. But he’s not the star of that movie; Christoph Waltz is, and looking at the other Oscar nominees for Best Supporting, all I can say is, if he doesn’t take it home, we live in a cruel world where justice is an illusion.
Which means he could very easily lose, because: See above.
So, how was y’all’s weekend? I spent part of it in the dusty stacks of the Detroit Public Library, and part of it writing (with the internet turned off!), so I saw little of note. Oh, except for the Super Bowl, which I watched with one-third of my attention (I was working at the same time, but it was a slow night for non-football and non-advertising news). As I believe I stated, I was rooting for New Orleans, on the usual irrational grounds: New Orleans is more fun than Indianapolis, Peyton Manning needs that smug smile wiped off his face, it’s always fun when the underdog wins. Usually my backing is the kiss of death, so it was nice to see sometimes it isn’t. I see we’ve already had the red-state chime-in in the previous thread, about how now all Katrina-related wounds are healed and we must hear no more about it. I was unaware of this attitude; is it prevalent? If so, some news: Ain’t gonna happen, cousin.
Also, it would seem we finally, finally have a major snowstorm headed our way. If it comes, it will be only the second shovel-able snow we’ve had this season, which must amuse you east coast folks. Nevertheless, I’ll take it. Droughts are droughts no matter the season.
Bloggage? Not much, but there’s this: Nate Silver on she-who. I’m going to do some rounds and study Russian.
Almost forgot! My favorite commercial.