From the Publisher

Is It in You? No? Good. Keep It That Way.

Fri, 6 Jan 2012 15:55:49 -0600

I initially thought about using this month’s column to suggest various personalized New Year’s resolutions to different people. For instance, perhaps Mike Ditka should resolve to enunciate the last two syllables of his sentences. It’s just a suggestion.
However, after noticing a disturbing trend, I’ve decided to suggest just one resolution for everyone: Stop letting strange people inject strange stuff into your body!
No, I’m not talking about drunk college girls letting frat boys inject just the tip, although that might be a good idea.
I’m actually referring to a couple of recent stories involving silicone injections performed by highly unlicensed professional fake doctors.
The first story involves Oneal Ron Morris, a transgendered woman who allegedly preyed on the transgender community by posing as a doctor. According to the Sun Sentinel, Morris injected as many as 30 people with all sorts of things, including cement, Super Glue, mineral oil, and Fix-A-Flat.
That’s right. Fix-A-Flat. As in the stuff you use to fix a flat tire.
The 31-year-old fake plastic surgeon from Miami (why is it always Florida?) known as “The Duchess” reportedly performed her black-market magic almost entirely on other transgendered women who hoped to enhance their curves and gain more feminine features.
The Duchess allegedly told her patients that she had performed hundreds of successful plastic surgeries using “medical silicone.” Apparently, she performed a few of those procedures on herself.
Those are not Photoshopped pictures of Morris. Rest assured, there’s room for more than just an elf on Morris’ shelf.
So people have gender identity issues. They want how they look on the outside to match how they feel inside. I get that.
What I don’t get is people paying thousands of dollars for someone who looks like a cross between a crackhead and a crappy, fourth-generation clone of Kim Kardashian to inject anything — much less items found at AutoZone — into their bodies.
Sadly, most of The Duchess’ victims ended up in the emergency room, but at least none of them died, unlike the guy in the other story involving ill-advised silicone injections.
Justin Street was a handsome, 22-year-old security guard and father of two from East Orange, NJ. Unfortunately, his desire to have a larger wang to slang clouded his judgment so badly, he went to a strange woman’s home and paid her to inject his penis with silicone in hopes of enlarging it. Here’s a photo of the woman:
Her name is Kasia Rivera. And no, she’s not a transgender woman like Morris, although she definitely could pass for one.
Police said Street died of a silicone embolism one day after he visited the 34-year-old Rivera’s home, where she reportedly maintained an unauthorized medical practice.
Now, as tragic as a young man dying a senseless death is, what’s even more tragic is how he apparently found out about Rivera’s “services.”
According to the New Jersey Star-Ledger, “Rivera advertised her beauty services at bars and stores in East Orange, passing out her business card that promised silicone enhancement — day or night — from the convenience of her home, authorities said.”
Wow! The convenience of her home? You’d be crazy NOT to let her stick a needle in your penis! It’s all done in her home, for Christ’s sake! What could go wrong?
I’m sorry for piling on the poor guy’s grave here, but fellas, the only reputable, trustworthy women at bars soliciting money to perform anything on your peepee are hookers. And the operative word here is “on.” Nothing should ever go “in.”
So in 2012, can we all just resolve not to let people without medical licenses inject God-knows-what in us? After all, you don’t want to end up disfigured or dead. And you most certainly don’t want to end up like Roger Clemens.

Republican Flavors of the Month

Fri, 2 Dec 2011 09:56:25 -0600

Even though we’re barely less than a year away from Election Day, if I want to put in my two cents about the GOP candidates, I need to do it now before they start dropping out next month. That is, of course, if Herman Cain doesn’t decide to drop out this month before the primaries actually begin, in order to protect the wife that he allegedly cheated on.
So let’s start with Mr. Cain since his campaign’s future seems to be the most tenuous. Plus, he’s given me the most material.

Herman Cain
You’ve got to love a guy who’s not afraid to drop the line “put stuff in the caboose” in a nationally televised debate in the midst of a burgeoning sexual harassment scandal. No wonder some people think his campaign is really just a publicity tour for his book.
I used to think Cain got the idea for his catchy 9-9-9 plan from an old Godfather’s Pizza advertising campaign, like maybe get a 9-inch pizza and 9 wings for $9. But now, I think he came up with it after rating three really hot women.
Whatever the case, 9-9-9 is Cain’s solution for everything. No matter what topic is brought up — be it the economy, unemployment, or even foreign policy — Cain invariably espouses his 9-9-9 plan as the way to fix all the country’s ills. Cain treats 9-9-9 like Chris Rock’s family treated Robitussin. “You got a broken leg? Put some 9-9-9 on it!”
Additionally, whenever the subject of Social Security comes up, Cain invariably mentions the “Chilean model.” Given all the sexual allegations, I think it’s just a matter of time before we see racy pictures of him with a fashion model from Chile.

Newt Gingrich
Gingrich is the latest GOP candidate not named Mitt to surge in the polls. After performing well in several debates, pundits say he’s picked up support from people leaving the Cain camp. It appears these GOP voters prefer a guy who’s had multiple extramarital affairs — including one while his wife was dying of cancer — over one who’s allegedly had one affair and maybe groped some women.
In any event, the former speaker of the House has seemingly discovered the secret to starting a successful presidential campaign: Have all key staffers quit, get glitter-bombed at a book signing, and go on a two-week luxury cruise to the Greek isles while your rivals campaign in Iowa.

Rick Perry
Remember when Rick Perry was seen as the guy who had the best chance of defeating Mitt Romney? Good, because Perry probably doesn’t.
Not only can he not remember that the voting age is 18 (instead of 21), but he can’t even remember what three Cabinet departments he wants to eliminate. It’s a good thing he isn’t Catholic. Can you imagine him making the sign of the cross? “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the, uh … um … wha, what’s the other one? Oops.”
Say what you will about Sarah Palin, but she looks pretty damn smart for writing notes on her hand for a debate.
But don’t make the mistake of thinking Perry is Texas toast. Keep in mind he was endorsed by both Bobby Jindal AND Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio. Soooo … yeah.

Michele Bachmann
The congresswoman from Minnesota had her moment in the sun after winning the Ames straw poll in Iowa. But just like her home state, winter has set in on her campaign. Her poll numbers have been dropping this fall like the temperatures in Duluth.

Rick Santorum
Rick Santorum is the poster child for why a candidate in the age of Google should never demonize a group of people for political gain. Otherwise, your name could become synonymous with a rather disgusting phenomenon occasionally encountered during anal sex. I’m looking at you, Kansas Governor Sam Brownback.

Ron Paul
As a member of the media, I am bound by a secret oath not to discuss Ron Paul.

Jon Huntsman
I actually like Jon Huntsman, which means he doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell at winning. He’ll never climb higher in the polls if he keeps committing the cardinal sin of sounding like a reasonable human being.
Instead of throwing out red meat to the crowds at the debates, campaign stops, and town hall meetings, the former Utah governor gives measured, well-thought-out, cogent responses. The poor guy is a 1980s Republican in a 2012 campaign.
You can hear it in the crowd reactions at the debates. After their answers, seven candidates get applause like they just won the Super Bowl. Huntsman gets applauded like he sank a 3-foot par putt … on Thursday.

Mitt Romney
Romney is the uneaten broccoli on a child’s plate that’s keeping him from being able to go play outside and defeat Barack Obama. It’s like Republicans know they’ll inevitably have to swallow it, but they’re trying everything else on the table in the hopes that they can avoid it.
They’ve had a little Bachmann, a little Perry, and some Cain. And now they’re trying out the Gingrich. Yet that unappealing Romney is still in front of them, waiting to be digested. It is their destiny.

Model Misbehavior

Fri, 4 Nov 2011 16:30:06 -0500

Let me start by offering a preemptive apology right up front. I’m not in a great mood while writing this column, so I may come across as a little more disheartened than I usually do. Blame my increased cynicism on Kim Kardashian filing for divorce after only 72 days of marriage (a unit of time henceforth known as a “Kardashian”). I mean, if she can’t find true love with her enormous … um, personality, what hope is there for the rest of us?
Speaking of giant asses, that brings me to this month’s main topic: idiotic football fans and coaches.
I know, I know. Coaches and fans have been acting like idiots for decades. However, I honestly believe their increasingly objectionable behavior is having a direct effect on the increasingly objectionable behavior displayed by players.
Here’s a little chronology to illustrate what I’m talking about:
Thursday, October 13: Officials at a local charter school’s football game ended the game with about five minutes remaining in regulation after players on both sides started coming onto the field apparently to fight. Numerous personal fouls were called leading up to that point in an attempt to keep things under control.
Friday, October 14: Two high school games in Louisiana ended in the third quarter due to bench-clearing brawls. In the Baker-Parkview Baptist melee, Parkview coach Kenny Guillot was reportedly punched in the head. In the Carroll-Bastrop fracas, someone allegedly went Chris Brown and threw a chair through a window.
Saturday, October 15: Punches were thrown, helmets were swung, and pepper spray lingered in the air after the Southern-Arkansas Pine Bluff game. A total of 41 players were subsequently suspended by the SWAC.
Sunday, October 16: Detroit Lions head coach Jim Swartz took offense at San Francisco 49ers head coach Jim Harbaugh’s overly enthusiastic postgame handshake. Officials separated the coaches, as well as players from both teams, after Swartz got in Harbaugh’s face to express his displeasure.
Thursday, October 20: Players from UCLA and Arizona got into a bench-clearing brawl with 2 seconds remaining in the first half of their televised game after a streaker came onto the field. Ten players were subsequently suspended by the Pac-12. Unconfirmed reports indicated the streaker was not Jewish.
I don’t want to sound like an alarmist, but keep in mind this all happened in one week. It’s hard for me not to be just a bit disconcerted — as both a football fan and an official — when people ask for my take on a game-related brawl and I have to ask, “Which one?”
Like I said, I believe this rash of unsportsmanlike and brutish conduct by participants is simply a manifestation of more and more coaches, parents, and fans setting horrible examples. The kids are simply emulating the behavior of their authority figures who have given the youngsters a presumed green light to act like jackasses, too.
Trust me. There’s plenty of jackassery on the part of so-called “adults” involved in the sport at all levels to influence the kids. Here are just a few memorable anecdotes that go well beyond general foolishness.
My first stomach-churning example happened while officiating a Catholic league game on a Sunday afternoon on church grounds. A coach on my sideline was counseling one of his players who was complaining about being held by an opponent.
Rather than asking me or any of the other officials to watch the player in question for the alleged holding, the coach emphatically instructed the sixth-grader to “break his damn wrists.” He then demonstrated how to go about breaking the other 11-to-12-year-old’s wrists.
I felt like reminding the coach that a priest was likely only a couple hundred yards away hearing confession inside the church and that he may want to pay a visit after the game.
Speaking of fathers, that brings me to a couple of youth league dads whose kids might be better off being raised by single moms.
The first “Father of the Year” candidate was on the field “consoling” his 9-year-old tyke after a tough loss in a youth football championship game. He stooped down beside his son, pointed at one of my crewmates, and uttered these timeless words of paternal wisdom: “You see that guy over there? He’s the reason y’all lost.”
Yes, those three critical, second-half turnovers had no effect on the outcome, but that one holding call cost your team the title, son.
Sure, dad, go ahead and blame your kid’s disappointment on a zebra. But who will you pin the blame on in a decade when he’s old enough to realize you did a sh—tty job of raising him?
Then there’s the dad/police officer who damn near read one of my fellow officials his Miranda rights on the field during a BREC peewee game. He may have been in plain clothes, but everyone in the stands and on the field knew this guy was a cop.
This officer of the law became categorically belligerent toward one of the best officials I know because he called a foul on the cop’s kid. A pillar of the community sworn to protect and to serve, this gentleman shouted things like “You’ll never work above the BREC level,” “They should take your shirt away from you,” and my personal favorite, “It’s a conspiracy.”
Yes, folks, it’s all a conspiracy. Especially the peewee games. You wouldn’t believe the payoff we officials get for fixing youth league games. It should come as no surprise, given how many billions of dollars are wagered in Vegas every week on marquee matchups like the South Baton Rouge Rams vs. the South Baton Rouge Jaguars.
Seriously, though, how many kids and other spectators who see a person behaving like a complete jackass, knowing full well that he took an oath to uphold the law, subconsciously feel sanctioned to act just as bad if not worse?
These are just a tiny sampling from my 10-year officiating career. There are probably hundreds, if not thousands, of other officials who’ve witnessed much crazier episodes of buffoonery.
Yet on those occasions when these same players, who’ve been taught one bad example after another by “grownups,” lose all semblance of composure and the sh—t does hit the fan, too many folks want to blame a small band of guys — armed only with flags and whistles — for not maintaining control of the situation.
That’s like dropping off a busload of sugar-filled kids with ADHD at Golden Corral, then getting all upset at the restaurant staff for failing to keep them in line.

Losing Poll Position

Fri, 7 Oct 2011 23:51:52 -0500

This month’s cover is a little unusual in that some of you sort of knew it was coming. Allow me to explain.
When Gov. Bobby Jindal endorsed Republican candidate Rick Perry for president last month, speculation immediately began about Jindal possibly becoming Perry’s running mate. That’s when I posted online, “Dear Lord Baby Jesus: Please let #RickPerry win the GOP nomination and pick #Jindal as VP so we’ll have a ‘Ricky-Bobby’ ticket.”
Now, if you’ve never seen the hilarious movie Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby with Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly, this probably doesn’t make much sense to you. It also probably means you have terrible taste in movies.
Fortunately, I have a lot of friends who saw that movie and appreciated my post. One of those friends is WAFB’s Rick Portier, who contacted me about doing a piece on it the next day.
Next thing I know, I’m doing shtick on Louisiana’s News Channel comparing a possible Perry-Jindal ticket to the lead characters in a 5-year-old NASCAR spoof flick … all because of a single tweet! As bad as the show was, at least $h*! My Dad Says was based on an entire Twitter feed.
So I made some lame jokes, like how Rick Perry would rather stab himself in the leg than raise taxes on the top two percent of income earners and how Bobby Jindal would talk fast in lieu of driving fast, and made numerous references to the campaign slogan being “Shake & Bake,” the ubiquitous catchphrase peppered throughout the film.
Again, if you haven’t seen the movie, I know you totally aren’t getting this. It’s OK. I’ll move on now.
One person did suggest back then that instead of “Shake & Bake,” the slogan for a Perry-Jindal ticket should be “Crash & Burn.” My, how prophetic that’s turned out to be.
Ever since Jindal’s endorsement, Perry’s poll numbers have steadily dropped as he’s suffered one setback after another. It’s looking more and more like Jindal’s nod was really a kiss of death.
His missteps have been well documented. There are the poor debate performances, his rather liberal stance of giving in-state tuition rates at Texas colleges to undocumented immigrants, and most recently, he’s had to explain why he and his family have hunted at a camp with a racially offensive name. I won’t say what it was reportedly called. Let’s just say it makes it seem as though Perry enjoys African-American fellatio.
It also doesn’t help that Michele Bachmann is quite adept at making Perry seem like a bona fide sex offender for signing a 2007 executive order requiring all Texas girls receive a vaccine against the human papillomavirus, which can cause cervical cancer, before entering the sixth grade.
Here’s what she told CNN’s John King after a debate last month: “When you have innocent, little, 12-year-old girls that are being forced to have a government injection into their body, this is a liberty interest that violates the most deepest, personal part of a little child.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear Gov. Perry personally injects the HPV vaccine into every preteen girl in the state of Texas with an oversized turkey baster. At least that’s what Bachmann makes it sound like.
With all these shots he’s been taking, it’s no wonder the GOP (along with every late-night comedian) was hoping New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie would enter the fray. Less than two months after jumping into the presidential race amid much fanfare and unbridled excitement among conservatives, Republicans have seemingly lost all intrigue with Perry and are ready for a new flavor of the month.
Too bad Christie’s not going to share any of his delicious ice cream. He’s not running for president this time around.
Speaking of fat slobs, what the hell was Billy Nungesser thinking when he said that, as lieutenant governor, he’d promote “healthy living” along with tourism. Promote “healthy living”? Are you f—king kidding me? For Popeye’s sake, the man sweats triglycerides!
I’m simply astounded that some pundits are saying the race between Lt. Gov. Jay Dardenne and Nungesser is “neck and neck.” I call bullsh—t. Nungesser has no neck.
I find it equally astounding that Nungesser has called Dardenne, arguably one of the most likable and widely respected politicians in office today, a “liar and coward,” as well as a “career politician.” Less than a year ago, the Plaquemines Parish president recorded a phone call wholeheartedly endorsing Dardenne for lieutenant governor. It seems Nungesser stuck to that view about as long as he sticks to a diet.
Of course, Nungesser did pick up the endorsement of Sen. David Vitter. I guess that makes sense. They’re both commonly associated with plugged holes.
I guess I’d be remiss if I didn’t comment on the governor’s race, boring as it is. It’s like watching the New England Patriots take on a home school team.
For all practical purposes, Jindal is unopposed. Yet he continues to vigorously campaign and reportedly keep tabs on the other candidates, like he actually has real competition.
If I may offer a little unsolicited advice to the governor: Take a damn knee! It’s in the bag, my man! Just run out the clock til October 22. You run the risk of turning off people by trying to run up the score.

Ex-Skull-patory Evidence?

Fri, 2 Sep 2011 15:27:35 -0500

Well, I had planned on using this forum to opine about the growing rift between Mayor Kip Holden and the Metro Council. I had planned on discussing the latter’s ill-advised decision to twice vote down putting on the ballot this fall Holden’s bond proposal to rehab crumbling roads and bridges, but you know what Steinbeck said about best-laid plans. OK, neither do I, but those plans sure sound sexually satisfied.
Instead, this month it seems I have to call an audible and talk about the situation involving LSU’s now-suspended quarterback Jordan Jefferson. See what happens when you break curfew, kids?
I feel compelled to do so based on the number of people who have asked me for my take on the matter. If I don’t give my two cents, I’d probably let down more people than the guy who wrote the Sopranos finale.
Let me preface by saying I applaud Les Miles’ swift and decisive action in the matter. When his starting QB was arrested and charged with 2nd-degree battery only a week before the season opener against the No. 3 team in the land, he made the call to indefinitely suspend Jefferson faster than he’d call a timeout in the waning seconds of an Ole Miss game.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been asked what I think will happen to Jefferson. The fact is I have no idea what will eventually happen to him. I mean, how many people thought Casey Anthony would be acquitted or the sexual assault charges against Dominique Strauss-Kahn would be thrown out?
I’m not saying Jefferson killed his child or raped a hotel maid. What I am saying is quit wasting your time and mine trying to prognosticate the outcome of a legal case about which you only know cursory details.
That brings me to my next topic: the police investigation, or specifically, people questioning the way they’re conducting the investigation. I can’t get over how many people have asked for my opinion on the way BRPD is handling the case.
As surprised as I am by such unashamed Monday morning quarterbacking regarding our law enforcement officials, I do feel a little more confident fielding such inquiries, because I know a little something about police procedure: I know I am not an expert on police procedure. Neither are 99% of the idiots second-guessing the cops.
And no, watching CSI and/or Law & Order marathons every weekend doesn’t mean you know how police are supposed to operate. It just means you don’t have anything better to do with your time, which might explain why you’re questioning every jot and tittle of the investigation of a college bar fight in a college town instead of doing something more constructive with your free time, like … oh, I don’t know … maybe volunteering at an animal shelter or something.
Look, I know Nancy Grace is too preoccupied with being on the next Dancing With the Stars to dedicate any airtime on her show to this case. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean you have to fill her role as an accusatory, condescending know-it-all.
Besides, if the police screw something up, Lewis Unglesby will make damn sure to let the rest of us know about it. Trust me on this one.
While I don’t know everything about the Jefferson case, there is one thing I do know for sure. No matter the result, it’ll be like the O.J. Simpson verdict. One group of people will be ecstatic, while another group will be highly upset. And both sides will be more than willing to express their satisfaction/outrage.
In fact, the lines of demarcation between these two factions have already been drawn. Don’t believe me? Just go read some of the comments on the issue on WAFB’s Facebook page.
I’ll forewarn you. You may want to have a strong drink at the ready and have all sharp objects safely stowed away. The intellectual dishonesty and/or hyperbole displayed in at least a handful of the remarks may make you want to stab somebody … like yourself.
Sadly, it seems the rift between Mayor Holden and the Metro Council isn’t the only notable schism in Baton Rouge. It’s like Jordan Jefferson has become the new Lil’ Boosie.
And you know who I blame for this division? Not Jefferson. Not the other players at the bar that night. No, I blame all the other folks who watched the fight and couldn’t shoot a halfway decent video so we’d have some solid evidence instead of relying on inconsistent testimony from a bunch of college kids who’d been drinking all night.
I’ve seen the “exclusive” video of the fight posted by the local sports station WSKR. The only thing poorer than the quality of the footage is the radio station’s nighttime signal.
For all I know, that could be Sasquatch doing the kicking. Honestly, I’ve seen more convincing video evidence of Bigfoot’s existence.
Of course, some people applied “enhancing techniques” and claimed it shows Jefferson kicking the Marine in the head. I’m sorry, but not even the Asian guy on CSI could enhance that piece of crap to prove anything more than that whoever shot it needed to upgrade his phone about five years ago.
I’m just incredulous about this. You mean to tell me that, out of the scores of young folks partying at Shady’s on the night in question, no one had a cell phone that shot better video than Abraham Zapruder’s camera? Seriously, I wouldn’t be surprised to see Unglesby try to blame the whole thing on the quarterback in the grassy knoll.

Caught Between a Rock and a Hard Base

Fri, 5 Aug 2011 16:42:38 -0500

You know how, in movies where killer asteroids or invading aliens threaten humanity, people — even those who normally hate each other — unite to battle a common enemy? I always figured that if America were to face such a threat, we and our politicians would quash all the acrimony, set aside our differences, and work together toward a solution for the sake of our survival. After this whole debt debate debacle, though, I’m not so sure.
That’s why, instead of simply giving my usual smartass take on the whole debt ceiling mess the country’s been forced to endure, I’ve decided to tell the story in the context of such a movie: the Michael Bay classic Armageddon. I believe it’s the most cathartic and illustrative way for me to give my two cents.
Please be forewarned that my metaphors may be mixed. Hopefully, my message will not.
The story begins earlier this summer, when the news media begin to focus on a huge meteor that appears to be on a collision course with the Earth. In fact, it’s not just headed for the planet: It’s projected to make a direct hit on Washington, D.C.
All the experts say that if we don’t finalize and enact a plan by August 2 to avert this collision, we’d see catastrophic effects in the succeeding days and weeks here in the United States. Moreover, the impact is predicted to be so great that the entire world would be severely affected in a negative way.
Now, in a bit of a subplot, just a few months earlier, a couple of well-respected guys named Erskine Simpson and Alan Bowles led a blue-ribbon panel to study in depth how to prevent such catastrophic collisions with extraterrestrial objects. They submitted a bold, detailed proposal to the federal government, designed not just to protect us from any strikes in the short term, but also to keep us from being destroyed by a meteor in the foreseeable future.
Sadly, most of Washington either trashed it or paid little more than lip service to the commonsense proposal, because it required compromise, cooperation, and political sacrifices, three things that are harder to find in D.C. than a member of Congress who favors term limits.
Plus, most folks there either thought they had a better solution to such a problem or simply assumed that such an object wouldn’t hit us. “After all,” they thought, “nothing like that has ever struck us in our 235-year history. What would be the chances that we’d be hit now, or at least while I’m in office?”
Eventually, as the meteor gets closer, and our political leaders continue to bicker about what to do, more and more Americans begin to grow fearful. They wonder if Congress and the president will do what needs to be done to avoid catastrophe. As a result, the struggling economy becomes even more sluggish, partially because people are reluctant to book trips to cities that may be obliterated from the face of the Earth.
At the same time, other folks, particularly of the Tea Party persuasion, openly question the dire predictions regarding the impending impact. They claim that the experts forecasting a cataclysm are like Chicken Little proclaiming that the sky is falling, when that’s essentially what will happen if no action is taken against the meteor destined to rain down destruction from above.
And even if the experts are correct, the Tea Party-backed members of Congress are thoroughly convinced that the constituents who elected them did so for one purpose. They believe they have a single mandate that overrides all other concerns: reduce the size of government.
Spending billions of dollars for a new meteor diversion program is the kind of fiscal irresponsibility they were sent to Washington to eliminate. Besides, if their raison d’être is to make government smaller, and the meteor is predicted to strike D.C. … mission accomplished.
In a cameo scene that strains even the most ardent filmgoer’s ability to suspend disbelief, Donald Trump goes on Fox News and says something completely obtuse, even by his standards. Representing an equally obtuse faction, Trump says being struck by the enormous, speeding meteor would actually be a good thing for the country, because it would all but guarantee that Barack Obama wouldn’t be reelected in 2012, presumably because there’d be nobody left alive to vote for him.
Meanwhile, the meteor gets closer, and Americans get aggravated because the politicians are nowhere near a solution, mainly because they can’t reach a consensus regarding where the money will come from.
Normally, when the U.S. wants to raise billions of dollars quickly, like to fund a war or bail out a bank that ruined the economy, it borrows money, oftentimes from foreign countries like China. However, in this scenario, neither China nor Japan nor any of our usual creditors will loan us another dime. They’ve heard about the meteor. They’re afraid we may not be here to pay back the money.
So the plot thickens. The money would have to come from within our own means. But where?
Many Democrats and independents argue, “Increase taxes on the top 2% of earners. Make them pay what they did in the ’90s when Bill Clinton was president.” After all, unemployment was about half of what it is now, and the government had a surplus of money to keep meteors from hitting us.
The Republicans counter ferociously. They categorically maintain that we can’t raise taxes on the rich (also known as “job creators”), because they need that money to create the jobs they didn’t create in the previous eight years with the help of the Bush tax cuts.
Moreover, most of the Republicans signed a pledge to Grover Norquist, promising not to raise taxes, nor vote for anything Norquist’s überpurist mind deems to have the same effect as a tax hike, such as closing loopholes for big oil companies or eliminating ethanol subsidies. Breaking that pledge would mean a crueler fate at the hands of Norquist and his Americans for Tax Reform group than any meteor could deliver. Norquist fervently believes not raising taxes is far more important than diverting a giant meteor hurtling toward humanity.
Eventually, it’s determined that the money needed to avert an unthinkable disaster would have to come via spending cuts. Now the only question is which programs to cut.
It’s argued we can’t cut defense and homeland security. Terrorists might kill us before the meteor does.
Lobbying groups for the elderly, like AARP, take to the airwaves with commercials protesting the suggestion that the money come from reducing Medicare and Social Security benefits. To people in Washington, the only thing scarier than an enormous meteor streaking toward the planet is a bunch of pissed-off elderly voters.
Muddling the debate is the fact that five years earlier, then-Senator Obama cast a largely symbolic vote against a project to divert an asteroid that was on a near-Earth course. While he admits it was a stupid thing to do, President Obama says he never really wanted it to hit us. As a fresh face in Congress, he simply did it for the attention.
After what seems like hours of partisan wrangling, the movie concludes with congressional leaders from both parties finally meeting with the administration and hammering out a compromise. Rather than actually diverting the meteor, the plan — which is passed by both houses of Congress and signed by the president — calls for slowing down the meteor, postponing its arrival until 2013, after next year’s November elections. In the interim, they’ll form a 12-member panel to study the problem and propose later this year a more permanent solution to the meteor issue.
Now, I know this makes no sense physically, since slowing the meteor would, in and of itself, prevent a collision due to the fact that the Earth is moving around the sun. In short, we’d be further down the line by the time the delayed meteor intersects the Earth’s orbital path.
Keep in mind, however, this is still a Michael Bay movie. The laws of physics don’t count for sh—t, especially if it means he gets to make a sequel.

The Weighting Game

Fri, 1 Jul 2011 16:57:13 -0500

Is it just me, or does this summer really blow? If the economy and (dropping but still) outrageous gas prices weren’t bad enough, America’s favorite professional sport may not have a season. To make matters worse for us in Louisiana, our quadrennial election season is shaping up to be a real snooze fest. Things should be heating up right now. Sadly, though, it seems like the pilot light is out.
Sure, a lot of the legislators are term-limited, but we really haven’t heard of any contenders that would make for compelling races. This is Louisiana. We demand to be entertained by our politicians!
Of course, our current governor once said he’d love to be our state’s most boring governor. While his first term has been far from boring (it’s hard to be dull when you constantly travel across the country and rumors abound about you perhaps running for president), Gov. Jindal has apparently managed to make his reelection bid about as interesting as his policy speeches.
And it’s not like the people aren’t looking for an alternative this fall. Besides the growing number of “Anybody but Bobby” bumper stickers I’ve been seeing, more and more bona fide conservatives who voted for Jindal four years ago are increasingly expressing a more-than-nominal amount of displeasure with him and his performance.
Yet, no one of political import is even hinting of giving the governor a run for his money … which happens to be around $12 million in campaign funds.
And therein lies the problem. Jindal has accumulated such a large war chest, any serious contender would have to have at least a few million in the bank just to compete. It’s pretty hard to raise that much money starting from scratch for an election that’s less than four months away.
Not too long ago, however, I got a bit excited when I heard there were rumblings that Plaquemines Parish president and human gravity field generator Billy Nungesser was thinking of running for governor. He may not beat Jindal, I thought, but at least it’d be fun to see an excitable, demonstrative, fat guy run for governor again. Remember how entertaining Walter Boasso was four years ago?
And if his near-nightly appearances with Anderson Cooper on CNN during the BP oil disaster were any indication, Nungesser would be even more bombastic and attention-grabbing (and girthy) than Boasso ever was. Besides, if he gave Jindal half as much hell as he gave BP, the Coast Guard, and the federal government, people might actually vote for him, not just because he became arguably the loudest voice (alongside James Carville) for Louisianians last summer, but for having the balls to run against an increasingly unpopular governor with a seemingly insurmountable financial advantage.
Instead, Nungesser announced last month that he’s running against Lt. Governor Jay Dardenne, one of the most respected and likable guys, not just among political leaders, but among people, period. On top of that, he’s probably the sharpest and most well-spoken statewide officeholder I’ve seen in this state. The guy’s literally a poet, for Pete’s sake!
Moreover, Nungesser even recorded automated phone messages this past fall supporting Dardenne in his bid for lieutenant governor. Has Jay screwed up that bad that Nungesser now wants to run against the guy he thoroughly supported in November? I haven’t seen any “Anybody but Jay” stickers yet.
Or could it simply be a case that Nungesser is looking to parlay his recent notoriety into a run for statewide office, and Dardenne just happens to be more vulnerable (i.e., doesn’t have $12 million)? I mean, if Nungesser really wants to challenge someone that the people want to see challenged, why not run against Jindal? Oh, that’s right; Billy’s probably afraid of getting slaughtered.
Come on, Billy! You came off as a tough guy who’s not afraid to go against powerful people last year; why can’t you run against Bobby this year? I know you likely haven’t seen them in a few decades, but you still have balls, right?
Besides, I think you’d make a much better governor than lieutenant governor, anyway. You’re an executive and seem quite adept at throwing your weight around. You shouldn’t have any trouble getting the legislature to do what you want.
Meanwhile, a lieutenant governor’s primary responsibility is promoting tourism. And let’s face it, when people in New York and California see you, they think oily seafood … and cholesterol.
Also, you said as lieutenant governor, you’d also work on economic development, coastal restoration, and streamlining government. Now, I know you’re used to expanding things, like your pants, but it’s hard to “streamline government” while simultaneously expanding the role of a position Bobby Jindal has said he wants to eliminate.
Look, I know you want to run for statewide office, and the idea of running against Jindal is scarier than Golden Corral running out of biscuits, but that doesn’t justify running against a fellow Republican you backed eight months ago.
Tell you what, why don’t you run against Buddy Caldwell instead? He just switched to the Republican Party, so you wouldn’t have to worry about recently endorsing him. By the way, I know you’re not a lawyer, but why should that stop you? You’re just as qualified to be attorney general as you are to be lieutenant governor.

Birth of a Notion

Fri, 3 Jun 2011 12:30:16 -0500

“Gov. Jindal still rules.” That was The Advocate’s headline late last month. It came only days after House Speaker Jim Tucker dropped his boss’, I mean, the governor’s signature issue, the SUNO-UNO merger. It was a reminder that, despite a setback or two, legislators still can’t get anything significant passed without Jindal’s blessing. Too bad for them the GOPfather’s daughter isn’t getting married soon, since he traditionally can’t refuse a request on her wedding day.
In the most recent special session, Jindal offered them a redistricting plan they couldn’t refuse. That’s because he threatened to veto any plan that didn’t protect all but the most junior Republican congressional incumbent.
Of course, this is nothing new. Louisiana governors have generally wielded an inordinate amount of power … except for Buddy Roemer.
It is interesting to note, however, how many Louisiana politicians have in essence sworn their loyalty to the GOPfather by becoming Republicans — like Attorney General Buddy Caldwell — and thereby all but guaranteeing they won’t run against Jindal this fall. Just like the state’s GOP from decades ago, the Louisiana Democratic Party will soon be caucusing in the proverbial phone booth. It would have to be proverbial because there aren’t any actual phone booths left anymore.
So many public officials seem to be getting caught in a Republican wave, and not just in the sense that they’re becoming Republicans. They’re also introducing legislation that’s all the rage among their party brethren around the country. Case in point: The “birther” bill, HB 561. Sponsored by Rep. Alan Seabaugh (R-Shreveport) and Sen. A.G. Crowe (R-Slidell), Jindal has indicated he would sign it if it makes it through the legislative process.
In its current, original form, the bill would require a federal candidate to file an affidavit attesting to his citizenship, accompanied by an “original or certified copy” of his birth certificate, if he wants to be on the ballot in the great state of Louisiana. The birth certificate would have to include “the date and place of birth, the names of the hospital and the attending physician, and signatures of the witnesses in attendance.”
That’s right. All real Americans are born in hospitals and delivered by physicians. Midwives only deliver communist hippies.
And as far as those kids born on I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant, who wants the leader of the free world to have been birthed in a toilet? Besides, if the mom didn’t know she was carrying a child all that time, do we really want that part of the gene pool in federal office? Things are bad enough already.
By the way, if Seabaugh and Crowe have their way, I sure hope the governor’s youngest child, Slade Ryan, doesn’t have aspirations of serving in Congress like his dad did. He was born at home without an attending physician.
Sucks to be you, young man. If you wanted to run for federal office, you had business to stay in your mother’s womb until she got to the delivery room. Kids can be so damn impatient.
Coincidentally, did you know Jimmy Carter was the first president to be born in a hospital? It’s true. So where were the first 38 born? Maybe Kenya. Who really knows? They weren’t born in hospitals!
Think about it. Had this proposed law been in effect, Zachary Taylor would not have been allowed to be on the ballot in his home state. No wonder Arizona Gov. Jan Brewer, as guano crazy as she might be, vetoed a similar measure.
Another possible consequence of this birther measure, as I see it, is the de facto banning of adoptees from federal office. That’s because current Louisiana law requires original birth certificates of people who are adopted, like my wife, be sealed. Instead, an adoptee gets a “new certificate of live birth” (i.e., not “original”) that includes the names of the adoptive parents, but not the name of the hospital and many of the other details.
My wife and I started discussing this angle while listening to a discussion on WWL about Sen. Danny Martiny’s (by far, the best name in the State Capitol) proposed SB 155. His measure would allow adopted adults who are 24 or older to request uncertified copies of their original birth certificates, thus allowing them to discover the identities of their biological parents.
Current law requires that an adopted person go through a legal process to obtain partial birth certificate information. One must file a motion and demonstrate to the court a “compelling necessity.”
Now I don’t know about you, but if I had aspirations for federal office, I sure as hell wouldn’t want my political future to depend on some judge in Louisiana. Keep in mind, this is the state whose Supreme Court said gambling and gaming were two different things.
Even if Martiny’s bill passes, there’s still no guarantee that adoptees could meet the standard set by HB 561. Even though they could get original birth certificates, there’s just something about the word “uncertified.” It just has a ring to it that smacks of conspiracy theory.
Moreover, if Martiny’s measure actually does meet the birther bill legal standard, it still would have to actually be passed into law. And with all the folks objecting to the implications it could have for people who may not want to be found by the children they gave up for adoption, it’s far from a slam dunk.
At the same time, you have the Legislature’s resident punch line, Rep. John LaBruzzo, offering a bill even more extreme than his usual proposed requirement that welfare recipients be tested for drugs. I’m not sure if he was Raptured from the neck up a few Saturdays ago, but it looks like he’s trying to become the GOP’s point man on restricting abortion.
LaBruzzo’s proposal aims to overturn the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision in Roe v. Wade by banning abortion in Louisiana except in cases where the life of the mother is at stake. The Metairie Republican managed to pass his heavily reworked legislation through the House Health and Welfare Committee last month by a margin of 10-2.
The bill is so crazy, even the staunchest abortion opponents are wary of supporting it for fear that it would likely be overturned by current members of the U.S. Supreme Court, thus reinforcing the legal precedent that protects abortion rights. In other words, they’re worried this could be the pro-life side’s Pickett’s Charge.
Meanwhile, opponents insist, if it becomes law, it would prompt expensive and unsuccessful litigation, costing the state millions of dollars to defend it.
Additionally, since LaBruzzo wants to outlaw abortions even in cases of rape and incest, Stephen Russo, executive counsel for the Department of Health and Hospitals, said the state could lose $5 billion in federal healthcare funds for the poor. That’s because states that participate in Medicaid are required by federal law to cover abortions in cases of rape and incest.
Boy, I’m so glad the state is swimming in so much revenue that we can afford to spend millions defending an ultimately doomed proposed law, and free ourselves from the shackles of Medicaid in the process!
At the heart of the pro-life movement is the belief that every life is sacred. Every human conceived has the potential to contribute something positive to society. Therefore, hardcore anti-abortion folks like LaBruzzo encourage women (and young girls who’ve been raped by strangers or family members) with unwanted pregnancies to carry the fetuses to term before giving the children up for adoption, because those babies could, one day, do something great … except, perhaps, run for federal office in Louisiana.
God, I just love legislative sessions! It’s awesome, not-so-cheap entertainment (see “per diem”). Plus, whenever I read a news story about lawmakers “unveiling packages,” I can’t help but think of New York Congressman Anthony Weiner.

Osama bin Killed? The Devil, You Say!

Fri, 6 May 2011 09:40:58 -0500

Thank God for late deadlines? I suppose.
In Red Shtick’s seven-plus-year history, the only other huge news event that prompted a last-minute change to our cover was Hurricane Katrina. For May, we originally were planning a cute cover commenting on the state’s new congressional districts. Will it ever see the light of day? Doubtful, since President Barack Obama just had to go and interrupt Celebrity Apprentice to announce Osama bin Laden was killed.
Once my initial excitement about the news began to ebb just a bit, I quickly realized I’d also have to change the subject matter I originally planned for this forum. Navy SEALs finally killing the most hunted man in history trumps the inequities of the Jindal-approved redistricting plans.
But what tack would I take with it? The story was still breaking, and new details were emerging almost as quickly as my deadline was approaching. I couldn’t just repeat “We got him! Hell yeah!” over and over again, although I think that’s all some people did for the next 48 hours.
Then along came the internet and my Facebook friends, providing all the fodder I needed to fill a column.
Yes, it was THE night to take part in social media. It was like when the Saints won the Super Bowl, except in this case, nearly everybody in the country was a Who Dat!
Within the first hour or so, I observed three main categories of people posting.
First, you had the “America! F—k yeah!” crowd. They predictably represented the vast majority.
A second group, a small minority, essentially asked “Why are we celebrating the death of another human being?” While that sentiment struck me as naïve, shortsighted, and idealistic, I totally get where they’re coming from. I just wonder if they would have openly expressed the same sentiment about the celebration of Hitler’s death.
Then there were people who saw this as the perfect opportunity to make jokes and be a smartass. Surprise! I fell into this category. These folks made cracks about Chuck Norris killing bin Laden, the 72 virgins, Donald Trump demanding to see the long-form death certificate, the revival of Lee Greenwood’s and Toby Keith’s careers, and the relief that the much-anticipated speech didn’t involve an unstoppable asteroid hurtling toward the earth.
Some of us also commented on the media coverage itself. For instance, I expressed disappointment that Fox News had preempted its scheduled airing of The Royal Wedding Recap with live coverage of Geraldo Rivera exhorting cheers from a throng of frenzied college students in front of the White House.
By the way, when did Geraldo’s mustache become wider than his face?
I shouldn’t make fun of Geraldo. The poor guy has to be devastated he wasn’t there when they took down bin Laden. Instead, he had to hang out with a bunch of frat boys who were still learning to write in cursive at the time Geraldo was chasing bin Laden through the mountains of Tora Bora, tracking him down by following his diabetic stool trail.
Yes, we were all having a jolly time for about an hour. But then, the Facebook turds inevitably started making their way into the “bin Laden is dead” punchbowl.
It started with some joking about being disappointed Osama was dead. They said they thought it was Obama who was dead.
Yes, that’s so hilarious! And original, too!
Then the president addressed the nation, which apparently caused a few folks to totally lose control over their anti-Obama id. They no longer had the capacity to filter the basal, Obama-bashing venom spewing from their psyche.
Regarding the president’s announcement that we finally accomplished a ten-year, multibillion-dollar task, they said it was “crap,” “free airtime,” and a “campaign commercial,” among other things. They also questioned the timing of the operation, as though the administration had ulterior motives for conducting it on that particular day, which leads to the biggest, smelliest turds in the punchbowl: the conspiracy theorists.
Yes, conspiracy theorists — the people who prove that no good deed goes unpunished, because it was really all part of a sinister plot by secret, powerful forces. The following are examples of bona fide conspiracy theories that are floating around the web as I write this.

The raid to kill bin Laden was timed to distract from Obama’s birth certificate.
Ah, the birth certificate. If it weren’t forged, why would he release it only days before taking out bin Laden? It’s just too convenient.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Jeremy, if he killed bin Laden to distract from the birth certificate, and Donald Trump took credit for forcing Obama to release the birth certificate in the first place, why hasn’t Trump taken credit for killing bin Laden?”
The answer is simple: because Trump is part of a larger conspiracy. No human being could be both that rich and that stupid. Besides, he’s a billionaire, which by definition makes him a co-conspirator.
The whole birth certificate issue was in and of itself a distraction from another, much more evil conspiracy (that I’ll discuss a little later), which means killing bin Laden was a distraction from a distraction.

Killing bin Laden was timed to boost Obama’s poll numbers and ensure his reelection.
In other words, taking out OBL was the equivalent of “Break glass in case of emergency.” And right now was the PERFECT time to pull the trigger. The election is only 18 months away! That’s like two whole months less than the time George H. Bush (W’s dad) had to see his post-Desert Storm 89% approval rating gradually fall before losing to Bill Clinton. Plus, the American people have a much longer attention span nowadays, which means nothing will distract them between now and November 2012. He’s a shoe-in!
Additionally, the whole operation was 100% foolproof. There was no way it could turn out badly, like another Mogadishu or failed Iran hostage rescue, and hurt Obama’s poll numbers even more.

Bin Laden’s body being buried at sea in accordance with Islamic Law proves Obama’s a Muslim.
Duh? Why else wasn’t it brought back to America and dragged through the nation’s streets after we cut off the head and placed it atop the Washington Monument? After all, those crazy Islamist types only get riled up when we defile their book. In fact, we should have cut the body up into 300 million pieces so every American could get a sliver.

Bin Laden has been dead since 2001. The raid killed his body double.
The U.S. has had OBL’s body on ice for nearly ten years. Why else was Benazir Bhutto assassinated right after saying bin Laden had been killed?
Sure, the SEALs killed what they thought was bin Laden. Hell, the body double was so convincing, even top al-Qaida members are convinced we killed the real bin Laden. That’s how good the CIA is, because…

Bin Laden is actually alive, working in collusion with the CIA to plot another terrorist attack against the United States.
That’s right! Not only is he still alive, but he’s a CIA operative! Too far-fetched? I think not. Have you ever seen American Dad? These are the same people who transferred the brain of a Nazi into the body of a fish.
Of course, this means that bin Laden’s body hasn’t been on ice all this time. So whose body was it? That’s right: It was the body double, which means the SEALs actually killed the body double’s body double!
Dude, this is getting deep! And it’s backed up by another conspiracy theory that’s gaining more and more believers every day…

The Obama administration’s refusal to release a photo of bin Laden’s dead body proves we didn’t actually kill him.
The “deathers” are right. How can you prove someone is dead unless you actually see the body? I don’t know about you, but whenever I attend a closed-casket funeral, I demand the family open it up to make damn sure they’re not trying to pull a fast one on me.

Now, many of these theories may seem disparate and somewhat contradictory, but I believe they can all be explained within this narrative. I call it my “Grand Unification Conspiracy Theory.” Here goes. (I hope my head doesn’t explode.)
The raid on bin Laden’s compound was timed for all the aforementioned reasons. It was done to distract from the birth certificate issue, which was really just a distraction from the fact that Obama, who’s really a Muslim, wanted us and the rest of the world to believe bin Laden was dead so he could become the leader of al-Qaida.
Stay with me, folks. I know what I’m talking about.
Obama wants to become the head of al-Qaida, but bin Laden was in the way, right? No, his body double’s body double was in the way. That’s who was really leading the organization from Abbottabad, Pakistan.
Bin Laden’s original body double was killed in 2001 and put on ice in case the Bush administration ever needed to produce a body. Of course, that would have led to the end of the War on Terror, so they never did.
It’s also why the administration has done everything to hide “bin Laden’s” body since the raid. It wasn’t really him, and the same people who proved that 9/11 was an inside job would expose that secret, too.
Now, the whole raid was done in Abbottabad, Pakistan, for a reason. The real bin Laden, who, as you recall, is working with the CIA, instructed his body double’s body double to take up residence there. This way, when the world learned that “bin Laden” was living in comfort in Pakistan, it would give the United States a reason to invade Pakistan, an Islamic country with nuclear weapons.
See where I’m going with this?
With “bin Laden” out of the way, Obama’s poll numbers skyrocket, ensuring he gets a second term to complete his master plan. Also, the door opens for him to become the head of al-Qaida and play both sides against each other (just like SPECTRE in You Only Live Twice).
Bada bing, bada boom! Next thing you know, it’s World War III! And it’s all thanks to Obama, which means one thing: He’s the antichrist!
Now, you may be saying, “That’s all fine and good, Jeremy. I, too, believe Obama is the antichrist. But what about the original, real bin Laden? How does your theory tie up that loose end?”
The answer to that is as simple as it is shocking. (Drumroll, please.) Barack Obama and Osama bin Laden are the same person.
Oh crap, there goes my head.

Aglow in the Land of the Rising Sun

Fri, 1 Apr 2011 15:08:23 -0500

After the initial shock of watching footage from Japan of last month’s massive earthquake and resulting catastrophic tsunami, I had one troublesome, lingering question on my mind. It had nothing to do with the death toll or scale of human suffering. No, the first thing I wondered about was which inevitability would come first: the tasteless jokes or the claims by religious nuts that it was all God’s wrath against a non-Christian nation.
It turned out to be a dead heat. Just ask Gilbert Gottfried.
I found that surprising, given that jokes, even inappropriate, ill-timed ones, require creativity. I’d have thought the religious wackos would have won that race hands down, since blaming natural disasters, at least in areas where the population doesn’t practice an “approved” religion, on supernatural retaliation is like a knee-jerk response for them.
Whether it’s the Indonesian earthquake and tsunami in 2004, the massive earthquake in China’s Sichuan Province in 2008, last year’s earthquake in Haiti, or last month’s calamity in Japan, some Christians can’t help but proclaim that they were all caused by the people in those places forsaking God and His Son Jesus Christ. Of course, they conveniently skip over the magnitude-7.0 quake that devastated Christchurch, New Zealand, last year.
You can’t get much more Christian than naming your city “Christchurch.” Then again, maybe that was just a “test of their faith.” Funny how when bad things happen to people who don’t follow a certain doctrine, it’s divine punishment, but when the same bad things happen to “true believers,” it’s a “challenge.”
Personally, I tend to blame such ills around the world on the rather secular principle of “sh—t happens.”
Then there are those who blamed what happened in Japan on karma for the bombing of Pearl Harbor. I was really shocked to discover how many idiots seriously expressed this thought online, especially since I thought the United States personally delivered that karma less than four years afterward in the form of a couple of atomic bombs.
Speaking of radiation, I’m waiting for yet another group of nutjobs to begin eating up bandwidth. It’s just a matter of time before we start hearing farfetched theories on how the still unfolding disaster at the Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear power plant was an “inside job.”
Seriously, though, the crisis at that plant reminds me of last year’s oil blowout in the Gulf of Mexico. The utility company that owns and operates the plant, Tokyo Electric Power Company, has a spotty safety history and has continually tried to downplay the severity of the situation, and the government has been seemingly complicit in helping it do so. It’s like TEPCO’s the BP of nuclear power.
Naturally, the apparent partial nuclear meltdowns and growing threat of harmful radiation has stirred a debate about the future of nuclear power in this country, just when even staunch environmentalists like members of Greenpeace were beginning to say it’s an acceptable alternative to other sources that emit greenhouse gases.
As a result, nuclear power plants that were about to be built — the first new ones to be licensed in this country in decades — may not get to break ground after all. In fact, some argue the Diablo Canyon nuclear power plant in Southern California shouldn’t even get a license renewal because it sits directly atop a geological fault line and is located near a second fault.
So Californians don’t want offshore drilling, but they build nuclear plants right on top of fault lines. Awesome.
I’m no expert on this particular matter, but I know one thing for sure: Diablo Canyon may not be the best place for a nuclear power plant, but it’s definitely a great name for a porn star.
As for our country’s future energy needs, I still believe in nuclear power. It’s called the sun.
Speaking of the sun, I can’t help but wonder how many West Coast sun worshippers, freaked out about radiation from Japan, have decided to go to the tanning booth instead of the beach. Either way, they’d get a not-so-healthy glow.
I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when there was a run on potassium iodide for protection against such radiation, even though numerous experts repeatedly stated how only minuscule amounts could possibly make it across the Pacific. We are Americans, after all. No matter how relatively unaffected we are by such an enormous calamity on the other side of the globe, we’ll figure out a way to make it all about us.
I have some advice for those irrational Americans who fear the deleterious effects of the infinitesimal amounts of radiation that make it across the Pacific to the United States: Encase your entire body in concrete. It’s about the only sure way to protect yourself from the fallout. (I’m talking to you, Nancy Grace.)
As for the real victims of this tragedy, the Japanese people have shown why their culture has survived for thousands of years. The dignity and poise they’ve displayed in the face of such unimaginable tragedy has been nothing short of remarkable.
And if any country is able to bounce back and rebuild after this, it’s Japan. They are an extraordinarily resilient people. Like my friend Adam Wilson said, two restaurants were open in his neighborhood the day after Katrina: a sushi restaurant and a Chinese restaurant. Granted, only one was actually “Japanese,” but this is Baton Rouge. It’s all the same to us.