Looks like the Always Wrong Right-wing minions at Fox News are at it again. Under the guise of delivering "news", Fox has been insidiously taking pot-shots at Barack and Michelle Obama.
Let's put an end to this now.
d.
Dear MoveOn member,
Right now, FOX is trying to paint Barack Obama as foreign, un-American, suspicious, and scary. They're trying to send Americans the message that our country's first viable black candidate for President is not "one of us."
We've seen this before from FOX. They won't stop until it becomes too painful to continue—until the public calls them out and advertisers start getting worried.
Now is the time to draw a line in the sand by putting FOX on notice that their behavior won't be tolerated. Nearly 100,000 Americans have already expressed their outrage. Can you express yours by adding your name to this message?
"FOX must stop injecting racism, prejudice, and fear into our political dialogue. We intend to hold FOX, its advertisers, and its personalities accountable for FOX's attempts to smear the Obamas."
FOX's longtime pattern of smearing Obama and the black community is well documented.1 But the outrageous moments have increased in the last month.
First, a paid FOX commentator accidentally confused "Obama" with "Osama" and then joked on the air about killing Obama.2 Next, a FOX anchor said a playful fist bump by Barack and Michelle Obama could be a "terrorist fist jab."3 And then, FOX called Michelle Obama "Obama's baby mama"—slang for an unmarried mother of a man's child, and a clear attempt to associate the Obamas with negative stereotypes about black people.4
If you know others who'd find FOX's recent actions despicable, please ask them to sign the petition too. The more people who sign, the bigger our impact will be.
Our friends at ColorOfChange.org—an online advocacy group focused on the issues of importance to the black community—are leading this charge. They have already collected nearly 100,000 names to deliver as a group to FOX's headquarters (in front of other media cameras, so FOX feels more heat). Here's how they describe the situation:
After each of the incidents mentioned [above], FOX issued some form of weak apology. But what does it mean when you slap someone in the face, apologize the next day, then slap them again? It means the apology is meaningless.
Now is the time to call out FOX for these attacks and their fake apologies. The first stop is FOX. Next will be their advertisers and the FCC. If we don't push back now, we will see more of the same from now until November. Please join us to demand that FOX answer for its behavior:
Add your name to this important cause by clicking here—then tell your friends:
Want to support our work? We're entirely funded by our 3.2 million members—no corporate contributions, no big checks from CEOs. And our tiny staff ensures that small contributions go a long way. Chip in here.
Proof is emerging that the Bush Administration has done everything in it's power to pervert the Department of Justice by politically profiling candidates for the position of Attorneys General. This is despicable and shows how far the Always Wrong Right will go to maintain their death grip on our country. Talk about shredding the constitution! Please copy the video below and post it since Keith Olbermann seems to be the only one, (as usual), in the main stream media willing to talk about it. Anyone who thinks that the fight to regain our America will be easy needs to watch it.
Now pardon me while I go puke.
d.
Post Script: The above makes it clear once and for all, (at least to me), that this Administration is neither bumbling nor incompetent, but rather, a Mafia-like family, bent on controlling our nation for their own gains, in a cold, calculating way. They will use any means possible to maintain this control and protect their asses. Face it, we have been taken over by Facists, and anyone who doesn't think so has their head up their ass.
This makes the upcoming Presidential Election more important than ever. With the collapse of our Democratic led Congress on Telecom Immunity, Impeachment, the Plame "incident" and other vital issues, we may never know how far reaching their crimes are, but a clean sweep in November, DINO's (Dems In Name Only), as well as Republi-cons, would be a great start.
By now everybody has heard that George Carlin has died. I won't say "passed away". I won't say we "lost another great comedic voice". George wasn't like that. He called it like it was. So George Carlin died. I'm not going to rehash the details, they are available all over the net. They are on every TV news program. They are everywhere. I am going to give you a little personal insight into the man whose comedy I virtually worshiped since the first day I ever heard him. I am going to break one of my cardinal rules and tell you a story about a Star I worked with, on the set of a movie. But then, what the hell, George hated rules anyway and I'm sure that if there is a Heaven, or a Hell, he might just be smiling, either down or up, at the telling of it. Okay, hold on. I'm going to have to get just a little toasted in order to tell this right. You know how it is. There are some things you can only remember when you're in the same state of mind you were in when what you want to remember happened. Good thing I just happen to have a little of the Motherlode Mindfuck on hand.
There was a time, when like most of you, I only knew George through his comedy. I didn't know the man himself. I had no idea what he was like when he was off the stage, out of the spotlight. Then I not only got to meet the man, but to come to know him as well. In fact, I got stoned with George. Not just once. But many times.
It was in the summer, a few years ago, and I was hired on a film George had a role in. Most of my regular readers know that I smoke the Noble Weed. I make no bones about it and I refuse to apologize for it. It's my choice as a responsible adult. Hey, you drink your Martini, I'll fire up a bone and we can both be happy. Anyway, the main set was built, dressed and lit. Principal photography had begun. Since the "studio" was actually a huge, empty, warehouse-type building, there were no dressing rooms, so Production had trailers brought in for the Stars. Each Star had his/her own private trailer. There were separate trailers for Hair & Makeup, Costumes, etc. Occasionally, in situations like this, a Star will request that certain modifications be made to their particular trailer and that is where we come in. But that isn't how I met George, although I spent many an afternoon "modifying" his trailer. It happened like this.
I was returning to work after lunch. Many times we are able to take lunch with the shoot crew but sometimes our schedules are too different to allow for this. This was one of those times. As usual, I was a few minutes late returning to the shop so I decided to take a shortcut through the main stage. I had to be careful, though, because they were busy filming there. Carefully opening the side door I peered into the darkened stage. The only lights were the ones on the set itself, so it took me a moment for my eyes to adjust. The Production Assistant stationed at the door quickly put one finger to his lips while twirling his other hand over his head to indicate that they were "rolling" on the set. The microphones used in filming are so sensitive they can pick up a gnat's fart at 500 paces, so I quietly eased myself through the door and gently held it from closing so as not to make a sound. Some shortcut, I thought, now I'm stuck here until they're done with the "take". Fortunately it didn't take long. If you've ever been on a film set, you know what a Production Assistant does. Those stationed at all entrances and exits mimic the Directors orders and ensure that there are no interruptions during the actual filming. So, like I said, it wasn't long before the PA at my door cried "Cut", and signaled to me that it was okay to proceed. As quickly and unobtrusively as I could, I began to make my way across the main stage to the entrance to the shop. It was then that it happened.
Every set has what is known as the Craft Service area. The Craft Service area is basically a mobile delicatessen where cast and crew can grab a bite or get a cup of coffee or tea or a can of juice or soda. Like I said, a mobile deli. In order to get to the door to the shop without going directly through the set I had to pass by the Craft Service area. Okay, picture this. A huge room with a set in the middle of it. Dark, except for the lights on the set. Me hurrying through this, trying hard to be invisible because I'm late, and a darkened, smallish figure holding a cup of something at the Craft Service area. Moving quickly, I kept my eyes on the set waiting for the inevitable commands, "Quiet On The Set! Roll Picture! Picture Is Up! Roll Sound! Rolling! Rolling! Rolling!", which would freeze me in my tracks. Believe me, you don't want to be the person who interrupts a take. Not if you want to keep your job. Sure as hell, just as I reached the Craft Service area, the cry went up, "Rolling!"
I froze. Kinda like a deer in the headlights. Glancing about franticly for a place to hide, my eyes hit on the smallish man at the Carft Service table, holding a cup of something in his hand. And his eyes locked on mine.
George Carlin.
George Carlin was looking right at me, eye to eye. Then he exploded. And charged directly at me.
"Holy Shit! Hoooooly Shit! I can't believe it! I just can't fucking believe it!"
Time stopped. The PA's stopped. Filming stopped. And I was sure my job was gone. With all eyes on us, George ran up to me, then around me, looking me up and down with wonder and surprise on his face, as if I was some alien being, hitherto unknown to mankind. I was shrinking smaller by the second. He continued...
"It's...it's...it's you! Ain't it! It is, isn't it? You! I mean, if it ain't you then who the fuck are you?" Circling, poking away at my gut, my arm, my chest, grabbing my ponytail...my ponytail....
"Oh my God! It is you, isn't it?" Grabbing me by the arm and leading me to the table, "Can I have your autograph?"
By now the entire crew was roaring with laughter. George was the Master and I, his foil. The man was clearly enjoying himself. I didn't know whether to shit or go blind. One of my idols was pulling me closer. The entire crew was hysterical at his antics and my discomfort. Then whispering in my ear...
"Hey, kid, you got any weed?"
"W-w-weed?", I stammered.
"Yeah! Weed! You know, pot, grass, leaf, bud, trees, greens, ganja, herb, boo, smoke, joint, reefer, kif, mj, maryjane, mary-wanna, Mary may not wanna but I sure do! Weed."
"What makes you think I might have that?" I remember mumbling.
"Weeeeell, for one thing, ya got a pony tail! For another, Ya stink of it!"
It was then that I remembered that after lunch doobie I had shared with a bud.
Not waiting for an answer, he asked me where I worked. For some reason he was delighted when I told him Set Construction. Letting go of my arm, he winked at me and rather cryptically said,
"See ya later."
I smiled kind of weakly and got the hell out of there as quickly as I could.
It wasn't until two hours later when my boss approached me and told me that Mr. Carlin had requested that I go to his trailer. It seemed he wanted some modifications done and had requested me personally. Why me, my boss wanted to know. I told him about our chance meeting on the set, sans the "weed". Grudgingly he told me to get "my ass over there". He didn't want to keep a Star waiting. I grabbed my tools and split.
Needless to say, I didn't really need my tools. But I took them with me, none-the-less, whenever George requested my assistance with some "modification" or another, which was dam near every time he was on set. My boss never understood what the hell I was "modifying". But I think he finally got the picture when the job was over and George's trailer was returned, with no "modifications" at all.
I know that there are some folks who didn't like George. For some he was too "crude". For others', he spoke the truth and they couldn't handle it. I will tell you that George Carlin was a loving, caring individual who did give a shit about the planet and it's people. He always spoke the truth as he saw it. He tried to point out our foibles to us and to my mind, he did a hell of a job.
I know you're gonna hate me for saying this, George, but God Bless you. (I know, George, I'm wasting my time talking to a dead guy and an invisible man in the sky. Sorry, Bro.)
CLEVELAND — On leave from the violence he had survived in the war in Iraq, a young Marine was so wary of crime on the streets of his own home town that he carried only $8 to avoid becoming a robbery target.
Despite his caution, Lance Cpl. Robert Crutchfield, 21, was shot point-blank in the neck during a robbery at a bus stop. Feeding and breathing tubes kept him alive 4 1/2 months, until he died of an infection on May 18.
"They took it, turned his pockets inside out, took what he had and told him since he was a Marine and didn't have any money he didn't deserve to live. They put the gun to his neck and shot him," Holt told The Associated Press.
The two men charged in the attack were identified as Ean Farrow, 19, and Thomas Ray III, 20, both of Cleveland. Their attorneys did not respond to The Associated Press' requests for comment.
...since he was a Marine and didn't have any money he didn't deserve to live.
It's not bad enough we have to lose Brothers and Sisters on foreign soil, to have this happen is despicable.
Mr. Farrow and Mr. Ray. I can only hope that upon conviction, the harshest possible penalty is imposed upon your sorry, worthless asses! You are unfit to share the same planet with a man like Robert Crutchfield. That man was our Brother!
For what it's worth, I offer the following as a sign of respect and eternal Brotherhood. May it bring some small comfort to his family.
...about anything. I know I have been seriously remiss in visiting blogs that I like. In fact, my blogroll is quite a mess, needs better organization. The job is winding down. Next week the company leaves for Rome. No, I won't be going with them, sigh. We have to disassemble the set and pack it for storage, standard operating procedure on Disney jobs. Half of our crew has already left to begin the new season of "Lipstick Jungle". This was, on the whole, a great job with great people, very enjoyable. What's next? Who knows. A lot depends on the Screen Actors Guild and whether or not they go on strike. You have to like looking for work to survive in this business. There is still a lot of TV work going on. Television shouldn't be affected by SAG's actions. That's another union, AFTRA, who represents TV and Radio artists. In fact, I've had a couple of job offers already, but I'm going to stick with the guys I'm with and see what happens, rather than jump ship. So, keep your eye out for "When In Rome". It's going to be a good one.
I have been checking on my fellow members of the API and there is a lot of good stuff going on at their blogs, not all of it political. I suggest you check them out. They are listed under Fellow Scholars in the sidebar. The new website for the API is also up and has a lot of good stuff. Just click on The American Patriot Institute link in the sidebar.
Ok, folks, I'm beat. Tomorrow morning I have to replace my hot water heater. My buddy Indy is coming over to give me a hand installing the new one, but I still have a lot of prep to do before that can happen. There's a funny story here, but I'm too dam tired to write it all down, maybe later.
The Grand Dame in the center is Marge, Mag's beloved Mom. Marge left us in 2002 and we still miss her. She is surrounded by the women in her family, 'Mare (short for Rosemary) to her right, Mag's sister,Rosemary, in blue, Maggie, in black and little Melissa, ('Mare's daughter), sitting on Marge's lap.
Marge was a terrific woman who wanted to live to be 100. She was always up for anything. Mags and I would show up at her house at 0200 looking for breakfast and Marge was always there to make it for us, with a smile on her face and a laugh in her heart. The amazing thing to me is that she really loved my sorry ass and believed that I was the only guy for her daughter. I hope I haven't let you down, Mom.
This picture was taken at a barbeque we had at my parents home in the Catskills. From left to right, we are: me, my Father (deoleman), my oldest daughter, Melissa, my youngest, Moira, my Mom and scroff my brother, attempting to lift Cardboard Elvis to his shoulders, lol!
My Mom left us in 2004. She was a real Brooklyn goil and she loved my Mags as much as Marge loved me. We are both so lucky to have had such wonderful Moms.
If you are fortunate enough to still have your Mother with you, show her you love her, not just today, but everyday. You only get one, you only get one.
PHILADELPHIA — One suspect was charged and a second was being sought Sunday in the killing of a police officer who was shot with an assault rifle while responding to a bank robbery, police said.
Sgt. Steven Liczbinski, a 12-year veteran, was responding to the robbery of a bank inside a grocery store around 11:30 a.m. Saturday. The suspects fled, and opened fire after Liczbinski confronted them a short distance away, authorities said.
I have long maintained that "Gun Control" meant hitting your target with every round. No more. Enough is enough! There is no reason in the world for civilians to own military style assault weapons.
If you want home defense, buy a shotgun. Personal defense? Handgun. Hunting? Rifle. Fighting Al Qaeda?Assault weapons.
It's time for a Nationwide ban on civilian owned assault weapons! Couple that with mandatory Life Imprisonment for any crime committed with an assault weapon and we might actually prevent another family from losing their loved one! A loved one who swore to serve and protect us from the animals who prey on innocent civilians. If these scumbags will fire on a Law Officer, imagine what they would do to unarmed civilians.
Let's get real, people. Legitimate self-defense does not require the use of an AK-47 or an M-16. These are weapons used by drug cartels and lawbreakers who have no intention of ever giving up. Let's take them off the streets. Let's make sure that Sgt. Steven Liczbinski, did not sacrifice his life in vain.
I am standing by the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength, and I stand and watch until at last she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sun and sky come down to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says : - 'There she goes!
Gone where? Gone from my sight - that is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and just as able to bear her load of living freight to the places of destination. Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says: - 'There she goes! ', there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout : - 'Here she comes!'
Henry Van Dyke 1852 - 1933
Your Heart and your sons, Alby, George (scroff) and Chris (deuddersun) Your's Forever, Mom
