Change Your Life: First In A Series, A Public Service Brought To You By The Dept. Of Nance

About a hundred years ago I found an audaciously titled article online that I read immediately, despite the fact it was so obviously clickbait that I felt outraged and insulted. It was right up there with the headlines that used to scream out from that grocery store tabloid The Weekly World News, which used to print things on its front page like HOW TO TELL IF YOUR DOG WORSHIPS SATAN and BIGFOOT KEPT LUMBERJACK AS LOVE SLAVE.

Those are real headlines, by the way.

But I digress.

This article promised that within its contents were 10 Sentences That Could Change Your Life. I scanned it quickly and added it to my blogfodder folder (my life remaining unchanged; can you believe it?).

I'm a bit stuck for a post at present, so I'm going to pull these Sentences out, one at a time, one per post, and see if they are worthy of at least a bit of discussion, Life Changing notwithstanding.

Here is Number One:

People aren't against you; they are for themselves.

Firstly, is your life changed? Did this give you an Aha Moment? Nah, me either. I feel like this is a terribly worky way of saying Don't Take It Personally. I learned this Life Lesson a bit late, perhaps, during my teaching career and from the best possible of all teachers--teenagers.

Don't misunderstand me; I love teenagers as a group. They are a great deal of fun, very warm, intensely loyal to people they respect and care about, and when their fire is lit, it is remarkable to watch them take off on an idea. Having said all of that, they are also ruthless when they have an agenda, and if you are an impediment to that agenda, you are merely that--a roadblock. They will forget that you once sneaked them a Diet Coke from the staff room vending machine, helped them through a breakup, or did not bust them when they were late to an exam. Their hearts will turn to stone, they will lie to their principal, and they will swear up and down that they did/did not do whatever it was in order to help themselves. I can remember being wholly devastated the first time this occurred in my career. A wise assistant principal talked me off the ledge by saying, "Nance, don't take it personally. It's not about you. You could be anyone. It's all about what he wants and what's in his way, and you just happen to be standing in his way. This time." I'd like to say that I learned it right then and there, but I'd be lying.

It would be nice to think that, in this age of social media, people are never against other people, but we know that's just Not True. Bullying is real, and thanks to the ease of online accounts, it's easier than ever to victimize others and to even do it under assumed names. Hell, even the "president" does it, and with impunity. (Although he is the epitome of Being For Oneself.)

Perhaps there is room for some complexity to this Life-Changing statement: some people are against you because they are for themselves. It makes some people feel bigger, more important, and better about themselves when they act out against others. Again, 45* comes to mind--the perfect example. It doesn't make the victim feel any better, however, even though small-mindedness only captivates other small minds.

So, again, the Life-Changing Sentence was People aren't against you; they are for themselves.

Did this sentence, as the article promised, "give you the power to go on"...and "change your life for the better"? Let's talk about it in Comments.

image

Adjusting The Waistband On My Cranky Pants

Yeah, yeah, I'm still here, someplace amid a mound of fleece blankets, fleece-lined spandex exercise pants, longsleeved tee, and fleece hooded sweatshirt. Welcome to Ohio, where we like to celebrate the coming of June by having temperatures in the forties overnight and the fifties during the day.

I wish I were kidding.

And let's make sure we add wind and rain in there. So that I can also run my furnace to dispel the damp.

Holy crap. I am hereby lodging a Formal Complaint. Can someone out there see that it gets to the Proper Authorities?

Yikes. Someone is, I fear, a Little Bit Crabby. And a little Snarked Out. Not quite Centered or At One With Her Zen. I'm too cheap to pay for therapy, and even though I could use my Dr. On Demand app and get a free introductory session, I'd rather use all of you. Will you be my therapist and listen to my Issues? Then you can counsel me in Comments, and we can all do likewise for you. Here we go.

::Where Is The Real News?:: What passes for News these days is no less than a farce. It's as if People magazine has taken over journalism. I can feel/hear Walter Cronkite and Edward R. Murrow spinning in their graves. Celebrity births, cutesy dog videos, and marginal events like charity drives and soldier homecomings are common stories on the national news (I'm looking at you, NBC Nightly News). Is there really nothing else occurring of note in the world, even in the realms of science, politics, government, technology, or finance?

::Is This Really Style?:: I sat (somewhat) stoically and quietly by while the Eighties neon colours came back into fashion, and I shut up a lot when everyone made a big deal out of the rope wedge, peasant blouses, and all the other crap that I used to wear back in the seventies as being so fresh and wonderful and Right Now On Trend. But there is No Way that I am sitting still for H&M selling this for $39.95 and even outright calling it The Mom Jean. It's a travesty. Worse yet is this assertion that the once-reviled, touristy and androgynous fanny pack is now de rigeur for all fashion mavens. Listen; the idea of being able to zip around on my errands without my purse hanging off my arm sounds like heaven to me, but if that comes at the expense of having a pelvis goiter, then no, No Thank You. I am old enough to remember the Playtex Girdle commercials and their admonishments about Midriff Bulge. I work hard not to have any Unsightly Bulges. The last thing I want is a Bulge that I paid for. (Oh, and for the record, I am still not wearing these. Certainly you can; I'm not judging.)

::Is This Real Life?:: In the next several months, it is expected that Donald "The Donald" Trump will announce his bid for the republican nomination for President. Of the United States. Where I live. Rather than be gleeful and entertained at this prospect, I am instead irked and irritated. Honestly, I'm not sure why. Probably because I know he's doing it just as an act of shameless self-promotion, and I'm annoyed that he's able to make such a mockery of a serious office to aggrandize and publicize himself and his empire. He's such a full-scale goofball that his own party will roll its eyes and sigh a lot, but the media will give him a ton of coverage and that's going to be excruciating.

::Real Quick-like:: How much do I need to care about the following things? Right now, I don't care about them at all even though they seem to be Everywhere: Game of Thrones, McDonald's "new" menu, Pinterest (I still don't get it), Sepp Blatter, Kelly Ripa's cleanse, the crazy Tasman Peninsula Dusky Antechinus, Windows 10, and Rand Paul. I will say that I find the name Sepp Blatter to be absolutely terrific. It belongs in the novel Cold Comfort Farm or perhaps something by Flannery O'Connor. Imagine:

"This here guy'll hep ya," said the cop, and he spat dryly into the street. He was indicating a slight, overall-wearing man who was ambling somewhat crookedly around the corner. "Name's Sepp Blatter. Owns the farm up the road. Has all kindsa equipment. He can getcha out." The officer raised his voice and called sharply, "Sepp! C'mon over here'n talk to this guy! He needs a tow." He pitched his voice lower and leaned in a little. "Now here's a little advice, 'n it's free. Sepp don't care much about money, but he ain't stupid neither. Them Blatters ain't livin' high up there, so make sure you offer him somethin' for his troubles. Do it up front, too." The officer winked broadly. "Get whatcha pay for that way."

*****

My session is over; your turn in Comments.

pants in image for sale here

Do You Know What You Need To Know? It All Depends On What "Need" Means

Yesterday, we discussed Perspective a little bit, and today, thanks to some troubling puzzling journalism over at USAToday.com, we are continuing in that vein. While I am still Unwell, I am resting and exploring the Vast Reaches Of The Interwebs, and becoming Increasingly Distraught at what passes for The Fifth Estate out there. Let me be more clear.

According to USAToday.com, these are the "5 Things You Need To Know Wednesday", meaning yesterday. I have no idea how I happened upon this article, but it is likely that the title, stating that I "needed to know" them, made me do it. Anyway, here they are, and be ready to check them off if You Knew Them Wednesday, and feel smug and the better for that Knowledge.

1. The 'Piano Man' receives top music award from the Library of Congress
2. Rev your engines for the LA Auto Show
3. 10th anniversary of the "Malice in the Palace"
4. Say it ain't snow! No, it's definitely snow
5. And the sexiest man alive is…

These are THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW! ON WEDNESDAY! Now, that was yesterday. If you did not know any, or all, of these things, how did that ignorance affect your life? Let me tell all of you, with unabashed honesty, that I knew two of these only, Numbers 4 and 5. And the only reason I knew Number 5 was because all of the Cleveland news outlets made a huge deal of it since he was here filming The Avengers. As to the others, please. Their Necessity Quotient is zero. I am currently at the very tippy-top of all ten teams of our fantasy basketball league. I hold the trophy for highest points two weeks in a row. My basketball knowledge is, therefore, excellent. But even I did not know that ten years ago Wednesday was the day that the huge brawl happened between the Indiana Pacers and the Detroit Pistons in which Ron Artest climbed into the bleachers and assaulted a fan.  Yet my life is largely the same, and so is my status as Fantastically Crushing All Comers.  And aside from the ten million people who live in Los Angeles County, how many of the 300 million Americans NEED to know about the LA Auto Show? And even then...NEED to know?  Right.

How trivial these Necessaries seem to me! And once I saw that they were for Wednesday, I snorted with derision when I contemplated what the USAToday.com people could deem Necessary That I Know For Thursday. Something about a TLC reality celebrity? Was something sculpted in Spam someplace? Will Ft. Lauderdale have a boat show? Let's take a look:

1. President Obama readies national remarks on overhauling immigration
2. Transgender hate crimes remembered across the country in Day of Remembrance
3. Inside trading schemer reports for nine-year prison sentence
4. Climate change to increase flood, crop insurance losses to trillions
5. American Cancer Society encourages kicking butt for Great American Smokeout

Oh.

image

Rally For Thanksgiving: The Dept. Of Nance Thanksgiving FAQ

Whether you like it or not, turkey is synonymous with Thanksgiving, and so much so that Butterball, Foremost Turkey Purveyor, has had a Turkey Hotline for more than thirty years. They have even taken to the Interwebs with this service, and in addition to calling their team of Turkey Experts at 1-800-BUTTERBALL, you can now live chat with them or email them via their website, here.

Not to be outdone, The Washington Post, journalistic bastion of all Beltway News and winner of forty-seven Pulitzer Prizes, has announced that, from now until Thanksgiving, it will be answering "some of the most commonly asked holiday meal questions." You can "E-mail [them]or join [their] weekly live Web chat on Wednesdays from noon to 1 p.m. For complete Turkey Day coverage, visit [their] Thanksgiving Central page."

Well, hell. I feel as if I have a ton of Thanksgiving Expertise to offer, but I don't have an 800 number or a newspaper. I do have this website; however, I don't want to wait around for people to submit questions or possibly ask things I don't want to talk about. So, I'm going to do it the Nance Way. Here, then, is

The Dept. Of Nanceswers, Thanksgiving Edition

Question: Must I serve an organic turkey at my Thanksgiving meal?
Nanceswer: Of course not. If you have a guest who insists upon a free-range, organic, fresh, or bilingual turkey, then politely request that he or she bring it so that it is correctly purchased, stored, and prepared. The same goes for any other special dietary request. Cheerily offer to provide the necessary serving pieces, and say that you look forward to tasting such a wonderful treat.

Q: Is it okay not to include kale, quinoa, or chia seeds in my Thanksgiving menu?
N: Absolutely. These trendy foods will welcome the respite, and butter will be glad for the work.

Q: How long do we have to wait for late guests? Is there a fifteen-minute rule, like for professors?
N: Just as no Fifteen Minute Rule For A Full Professor actually exists, no hard and fast rule for tardy dinner guests does either. But perpetually late guests are always Rude, and this behaviour should not be rewarded year after year. Call their bluff and sit down to a hot dinner. They will catch up and, hopefully, catch on. After all, microwaves were invented so that we could warm plates of food quickly and efficiently. Late guests can do this when they arrive. Greet them warmly, but without fanfare and judgment.

Q: How do you feel about The Kids' Table?
N: I am largely against it. Children should sit at the table with adults and learn about conversation; they should try new foods, observe and practice table manners, and be supervised by their parents. Thanksgiving is a great time for kids to sit down and learn how to eat a full meal in a relaxed setting and enjoy company.

Q: What wine do you suggest for Thanksgiving?
N: I've had lots of different wines with turkey, from a dry rose to Beaujolais Nouveau to a rich, oaky Chardonnay. All of them have been lovely. I think you should open a couple of wines that you truly enjoy and do just that, enjoy them. I would stay away from any sweet wine, like a riesling or the simply terrible white zinfandel or the dessert-y moscato. On principle, I'd stay away from those last two entirely, forever. But that's just me.

Q: Should I brine, deep fry, or otherwise do something worky to my turkey?
N: Only if you have nothing else to keep you busy and active. Have you tried crossword puzzles, knitting, or building low-cost housing for feral cats in your area? How about reformatting your laptop? Did you ever put all of your old super8 movies into a digital format? Just checking.

Q: How have you decorated your home for Thanksgiving?
N: I have two bags of cranberries in my freezer.

Q: Can you suggest some creative alternatives for pumpkin pie?
N: Listen. If you don't want pumpkin flavour, then make anything else you want. Make a chocolate cake. Make a pecan pie. Make a huge trifle with raspberries and hunks of pound cake. But if you like pumpkin spice flavour, stick with the pumpkin pie. Why mess with it? Let's face it: pumpkin roll, pumpkin cheesecake, pumpkin bread, pumpkin muffins--all that stuff tastes like pumpkin pie and that's why people love it. So, either do the pie or do a 180 and make something else.

Q: Are you a Brussels Sprout Person?
N: Oh, my, yes. I am crazy about them. One of the finest drinks nibblies ever is an appetizer made by the chef at Nemo's restaurant in Avon, a little town near me here in NEO. It's sliced, fried Brussels sprouts with a little bit of bacon, balsamic reduction, and toasted pistachios. Those with a dirty vodka martini...perfection. But I'll take them straight up, steamed with a little butter and salt and pepper, too, and have them fresh on Thanksgiving.

Q: Is it acceptable to have plain vegetables rather than candied, casseroled, au gratined, escalloped or the like?
N: Yes, and I always do. With the abundance of food and gravy and starch like dressing, mashed potatoes, and rolls, I like to have plain vegetables with real butter, seasoned with salt and pepper only.

Q: What should be done regarding cell phones at the Thanksgiving table?
N: Unless someone is a medical doctor, has an aged parent in a Home or hospital, or will be Skyping in a distant relative (such as a member of the armed services overseas or a married child who is giving the in-laws their turn), the cell phones should be put away and silenced. This may be akin to Social Suicide for some tweens and stunted adults, but they will get over it. Slapping offenders is, of course, forbidden; instead, fix them with a stern yet sad look and say, "Why don't you go ahead and take care of your very important business in the other room? We'll make sure that a nice plate is left for you in the fridge." It does no good to force anyone to be someplace he does not want to be. But the rest of the table should not have to be subjected to someone's bowed head attending to an absent third party all during dinner.

Q: What about the crushing guilt if I don't use real whipped cream?
N: Get over it. I know that Cool Whip is a whole bunch of chemicals and grease. I also know that I use it only about twice a year and that it's way easier than making and storing real whipped cream. If your guilt is so strong, buy ReddiWip. It's made with real cream. Wow. Are you Catholic?

Q: What do you suggest regarding the attire for Thanksgiving?
N: Some families like to dress in their Sunday Best for this holiday and make it a very festive, special event. It makes for a lovely scene and, if you are This Type Of Family, some pretty photos. For the Dept., we dress quite casually, and I often consider having Jammies Thanksgiving. For us, it is a holiday of extreme relaxation and togetherness and joy. I think it's a matter of family style and preference. Ideally, generous and stretchy waistbands would be a given.

Q: Do you have any suggestions for all the leftover turkey?
N: Is this really a problem, honestly? Do people A) not know how to figure out how big of a turkey to buy; B) not have a love of turkey sandwiches; C) not have the Interwebs? I rarely have any leftover turkey, and it's a little irritating. When I have a little leftover turkey (or chicken), I like to make a big pot pie, which also uses up any other leftovers like potatoes, veg, and even dressing, which can be cubed up or sliced up and put on the bottom. It all gets mixed up with the leftover gravy, which can be supplemented with some good jarred or canned gravy. I use the turkey carcass and wings for soup, or at least stock.

Q: What about leftover cranberry sauce?
N: Why don't we make this terrific condiment more often? It's delicious with roasted pork, and it's wonderful on buttered toast or a bagel. You can use it with apples in a crisp. Warm it and spoon it over brie, then serve it with baguette or apple and pear slices. If you want to get terrifically worky, buy those little phyllo cups and spoon a little bit of the cranberry sauce in the bottom of each one; add a chunk of brie or a white farmer's cheese, then a walnut half; bake in a 350 oven for about 8 minutes, til the cup is golden, and the cheese is melty. Lovely!

Q: What should we do if we have any more questions?
N: Ask them in Comments.

image

And Now For Something Completely Different (And Undead)

The Dept. of Nance interrupts Poetry Month to bring you this Moment Of NEO Neighborhood Culture.

I was sitting in my leather easy chair one morning, coffee in hand and catten on lap, about a week ago (30 May, to be exact), when I happened upon this little item in my beloved Cleveland Plain Dealer:

I took the above photo with my iPhone and immediately sent it to Jared and Sam via text message. They live in Lakewood, a Cleveland suburb that is not too terribly far from where I am, but for its culture, it may as well be eleventy thousand miles away. "That is so Lakewood," Jared responded. I think Sam sent me a photo of a sleeping baby giving me The Finger. Sigh.

Maybe I'll post a Zombie Poem next. I know just the right one, too. Until then, be careful out there.

illustration

Yellow (Cake) Journalism

Readers, in the interest of Journalism, I simply must offer up this post to you.  Not so terribly long ago, that Bastion Of The Fourth Estate, The Huffington Post, published an article that I found to be absolutely awful.  Not only was the writing terrible, but it took up a subject that was already trivial at best and tried to elevate it to some importance by instituting a ranking system that was so flawed, so idiotic, so arbitrary, so contradictory, that not only did I feel it necessary to comment, but my son Jared also wanted to add his thoughts.

Here is the objectionable article, one titled The Best Cakes, In Order.  What follows is a pointless and inane fluff piece (including photos!) of cakes, from worst to best.  (Huh?)  I would summarize it for you, but it is impossible and incoherent.  Is it even possible, then, to rank The Best Cakes, In Order?  Oh, absolutely it is.  Jared and I have done it, and so will you, in Comments. 

Nance's Best Cakes

Firstly, let me say that I prefer Pie, but if Cake is the thing, then I have a few Cake Rules, and they are:  1. The Cake must be cold; 2.  The Cake must be dense;  3.  The Cake must be moist.  I would add that the Cake must be devoid of all coconut, but if the other three are in place, I can put up with it.

1.  White Cake
2.  Chocolate Cake
3.  (Real/Fresh) Banana Cake
4.  Angel Food Cake*
5.  Lemon Pound Cake

I am a Cake Purist.  I don't like a lot of fancy bullshit cakes.  I don't like decorator icing or white canned frosting.  If I had my way, all cakes (except Angel Food) would be the consistency of banana bread.  Fluffy cake with a lot of crumbs is a failure to me; how do you know you've even eaten anything?  And, again, let me restate my disdain for the Cupcake: hard to eat, stupidly trendy, usually dry, overly frosted, never as complexly flavoured as it's touted (Blueberry lime mojito vanilla mint! Nope.).  *Angel Food Cake is the exception to almost everything. It is wonderful and I have no idea why.

White Cake, like Wedding Cake, is the best Cold Cake ever.  Does it have a hint of almond flavouring?  Yes, please.  Does it have Hershey's chocolate frosting?  Save me another piece.  I almost never make this Cake because it is worky, separating eggs, storing and then remembering to use the yolks.

Unlike the stupid article, I don't differentiate among chocolate cakes.  I like them all. (Except German Chocolate; hate that coconut stuff.) My mother made one called "Lazy Lady's Cake" with vinegar and cocoa, among other ingredients.  She frosted it with homemade frosting with little chunks of pineapple in it. I always loved it. I make it once in a great while, and once I used orange juice and orange zest instead of pineapple, which was crazy good.

The only other one I want to discuss is Real/Fresh Banana Cake.  If you have never taken a yellow, butter, or vanilla cake mix and added a couple of mashed-up bananas to it, then you have not experienced full Cake Enjoyment.  I hoard overripe bananas in the freezer because I detest waste of any kind.  I pull them out for baking.  Just cut back on the oil about half.  Frost with Hershey's chocolate frosting and put it in the fridge.  You're welcome.

And now it's Jared's turn:

I want to first start off by saying that I do not particularly care for cake. Aside from the following five cakes, I find cake trivial and, frankly, vastly overrated. Two reasons: 1.  Most Real dessert lovers eat pie. 2. The rest of them eat cobbler.

When Nance approached me about the cake post, I was excited. I like blogging with my mother. Also, it allowed me to think about something other than dumpsters and basketball.  This is nice.  It did, however, lead to a soul-crushing discovery. Red velvet cake = liar. There. I said it. It’s just white cake with food coloring? And cream cheese frosting? This is bullshit. What a waste. I will never eat it again. Ever. Over it.

So, here it is, the Definitive Cake Power Rankings By Jared:

1.  Oatmeal Cake. And not just any oatmeal cake. Not some bullshit “my mom made it” oatmeal cake. I refuse to deal with that. Know why? BECAUSE MY MOM MADE IT AND IT CAN KICK YOUR MOM’S CAKE’S ASS. That’s why. Dense. Moist. Rich. My mother’s oatmeal cake may be her crowning dessert achievement. And that is saying something. I could eat an entire oatmeal cake right now. And I’m not even hungry. Not even a little. Plus, you know a cake is powerful stuff when it can make me have a glass of milk. That. Is. A. Serious. Fucking. Cake.

2.  German Chocolate. It is the most dominant common cake of all time. Coconut, chocolate, and whatever that stuff is that binds the coconut together. I love that shit. And it has never lied to me the way that red velvet cake has. I know exactly what it is. And it loves me back. Unconditionally. Ever had a piece of German chocolate cake on the front porch with a coffee? No? Idiot. Go do it. Also, it is a textural tour de force. Crunchy, soft, gooey in all the right ways. It is as if someone asked for perfect and then this cake showed up. I consider this to be the Germans’ finest contribution to the world.

3.  Carrot Cake. Does not taste like carrots. Also, don’t bog down my carrot cake with some sort of dried fruit frivolity, i.e. raisins. Also, who doesn’t love an excuse to eat cream cheese frosting? Carrot cake reminds me of fall. It tastes the way that a fall breeze feels when you’re wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans and walking down to the store for something unimportant. Just a little frivolous. A little bit warm in the right way. But it also leaves you satisfied:  Good. Now I did that. And I am better for it. That’s what carrot cake does.

4.  Angel Food Cake. Light. Airy. Borderline whimsical. Just dense enough to feel like you’re eating something, but not enough to make you regret if you have a gigantic piece of it. Throw some blueberries with it. Slap a strawberry up there. Go on. It is so universal. It is the Ritz cracker of cakes. Anything + Angel Food Cake = Delicious. That’s science.

5.  Bacon Cake. (Kidding. But how come this isn’t a thing?) Yellow Cake. Just a plain old yellow cake with chocolate frosting. But not too much. Because that is silly. Just enough to make it so that you can press the back of your fork against the paper plate to make sure you get each last crumb. Every time I think of it, I envision it on a paper plate. I like it better that way. That’s the right fucking way to eat yellow cake, dammit. Throw it in the refrigerator, please. Because it is ridiculous not to. Everyone likes yellow cake. I don’t like it, Jared. So…ha! Liar. Fool. Sillyheart. Everyone likes it. There is nothing to dislike about it. It’s like trying to hate a cup of cocoa after shoveling snow or hugging your grandmother on a holiday. If you hate yellow cake, you hate hugs. And grandmothers. Is that the kind of thing you want to stand for?

Ah, dear Readers.  What a lot of fuss about Cake.  Whether or not poor Marie Antoinette ever really did say, "Let them eat cake",  I have to say that I like this takeoff much, much better.

Again, however, I prefer pie.   We await your Comments. 


post header image found here
post footer image found here

If Your Brown-Eyed Husband Wants More Sex, Do The Laundry and Look At Your Facebook Profile

My crossword puzzle this morning was a themed one, and its theme was Sigmund Freud.  I used to delve into Freud and his theories quite a lot when I was teaching The Catcher in the Rye because, well, holy crap.  There is a ton of Freudian reference in there.  Beyond that, I, like most thinking people, have little use for the rest of Dr. Freud's musings.  While I do see "talking therapy" as generally a good thing overall, I don't see The Mother as the root of all psychoses, to be admittedly simplistic.  Or sex.  And, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. 

But all that thinking about Freud was evidently simmering on my brain's back burner, for when a psychology story popped up on my Google News Page, I kept clicking and clicking and, before I knew it, I had found several fascinating studies that I just have to share with you here.  It's kind of a Pop Psychology Potpourri!

1.  The Facebook.  Here's a study that seems obvious.  Facebook May Boost Self-Esteem But Reduce Motivation.  "This is one of the first studies of its kind to use (the Implicit Association Test) psychology research tool to evaluate whether there are any psychological effects associated with using the online networking site....The Implicit Association Test involved asking the participants to associate positive or negative adjectives with words such as 'me' and 'myself'."  Basically, a bunch of people gazed at their FB profiles for 5 minutes.  Then they were given the IAT, which showed a marked increase in self-esteem.  After that, they were given a task, to count down from a large number by intervals of seven, then answer some general questions.  The FB people performed more poorly with relation to accuracy and speed.  "Who needs this crap?" the FBers seemed to indicate, "when I'm already so awesome and have 670 friends?"  Or, to put it in more scientificky terms, "The researchers believe that after spending time on Facebook people generally feel good about themselves, so there isn't as much motivation to increase self-worth by trying hard in the lab task compared to those in the control group." 

2.  Brown VS. Blue.  This particular study, Why Do We Trust Brown-Eyed People More? really caught my attention.  I have brown eyes, as do Rick and Jared.  Sam's eyes are changeable, but are usually green.  I first started thinking about the people whom I do not trust, and I could not really come up with anyone right off the bat except George W. Bush and Congress, and the latter has too many people to have this theory apply.  Then I started thinking of any blue-eyed people I know, and I couldn't come up with any.  Then I stopped hurting myself and just read the damn study.  Anyway, this study ends up saying that it isn't really the eye color that determines trust; in the final analysis, it is the shape of the person's face that goes along with the eye color, and in that case, it seems to be that only in men is it the deciding factor.  Women of blue eyes and brown eyes are judged almost equally trustworthy.  The study ultimately found that "brown eyed men generally have wider mouths with upward-pointing corners, wider chins, bigger eyes and eyebrows closer to each other, characteristics considered masculine and more trustworthy. On the other hand, men with blue eyes tend to make them seem more shifty, sporting smaller eyes and narrow mouths with downward-pointing corners."  For the record--Sam has large, round eyes, and his mouth is not narrow or downward-pointing.  He can, however, at times, be shifty.

3.  The Honey-Do List.  Ladies, this study could be a bitch if The Wrong People read it.  Husbands Who Share Housework Have Less Sex sounds like something commissioned by the GOP or the NFL or Budweiser or someone like that.  You and I both know that this whole study is bullshit, and let me list just some of the reasons why:

1.  The data is from 1992-1994
2.  It defines a traditional marriage as one where housework is done exclusively by the wife.
3.  It mentions a previous study whose research implied that "married men generally have more sex in exchange for doing housework."
4.  It found that sex "is associated with the kinds of chores each partner completes."
5.  This:  The researcher "does not believe that the division of household chores - which in this study did not include child care - and sex have changed much since 1994."

Please do not point out to me that a woman authored this study.  I hope she has already gotten the call to Turn In Her Card at an authorized center.  Her face will be added to the Woman Wall Of Shame, along with, well, you all know who They are.

I have just completed my own Psychological Study titled The Longer You Stay In Your Jammies The Less Likely You Are To Accomplish Anything Beyond The Virtual World.  It's taken almost two full years of intensive research.  When I get around to writing it up, I'll be sure to let you know.  In the meantime, do catch me up or sound off in Comments.

Indulge Me. Remember What Mae West Said: "To Err Is Human, But It Feels Divine." The Dept. Is (Sinfully) Seven!



by Marc Petrovic and Tim Tate

 In 375 AD, Evagrius Ponticus, a teacher and writer also known as Evagrius the Solitary, decided to identify the most terrible sources of temptation for human beings.  He came up with eight and named them as the sources of all sinful behaviour.  Two hundred years later, Pope Gregory I revised the list down to seven, and we now know them more commonly as The Seven Deadly Sins:  Pride, Envy, Gluttony, Lust, Anger, Greed, and Sloth.

In August 2012 AD,  the Dept. of Nance, written by a former teacher, celebrates seven years of being a source of...well, something for human beings here on the Interwebs.  In its existence for the past seven years, no doubt it has encouraged and celebrated some sinfulness here and there.  In the spirit of Evagrius Ponticus and Sinners everywhere, I would like to 'fess up--in spirit--to seven each of the Seven Deadlies.

1.  Pride/Vanity:   I'm vain about everything, as Readers all know, but inordinately so about my shoes (which must match my outfit); my clothes (which must be impeccable ensembles); my reading glasses (which must match my shoes and outfit); my hair (which I am at war with constantly); my eyelashes (Bug, where is the Mascara Spreadsheet?); my cats, who remain overweight despite their pricey diet food (and getting no treats or table food--so embarrassing); and the appearance of each post in this blog (it's exhausting, really).

2.  Envy:  This is a tough one.  I'm not generally an envious person, although I do wish I had the blogger book deal, the wherewithal to go on a world cruise, a warm-climate winter getaway home, the ability to eat and not get fat (like Sam's girlfriend seems to be able to!)...(See?  This is turning into what I wish, and not really a list of Envies.)  I'm envious of people who have a really good sense of direction, who like to take photos and have them organized, and who don't have the Worry Gene.  Because I do.

3.  Gluttony:  I don't eat like I used to be able to, and my food cravings change.  But we all have foods we love.  Seven of mine are:  Lobster, Avocados, Fresh-cut French Fries, Duck, Asparagus, Risotto, and Nutella.  Still Nutella.

4.  Lust:  Sometimes I find myself attracted to the oddest men.  Other times, they fit My Type exactly.  Here are seven men I find attractive, and a few are just big question marks, honestly:  Daniel Day-Lewis, Rob Lowe, Pau Gasol, Hugh Laurie, Robert Herjavec (from TV's Shark Tank), Anderson Varejao, and Richard Engel.

5.  Anger:  Lots of stuff makes me mad.  You and I both know that the short answer here could be "republicans" and I'd be done.  But that wouldn't be fair.  So, without getting too peevish, I'll say the USA's poor mentality about education funding in general; the way society bashes teachers; the downward spiral of quality in journalism, especially among broadcast/television media; the glorification of bad behavior in society, namely via so-called "reality programming"; the breathtaking sense of entitlement among people in the past 20 years; the astonishing attempt by some politicians to demote women to second-class citizens by abrogating their rights; and the unreasonable and inexplicable discrimination against gay citizens of our country.

6.  Greed:  This is the desire for material wealth or gain while ignoring the realm of the godly.  And while I pretty much observe the latter, I'm not the Quintessential Material Girl in that I don't wear jewelry or care about designer clothes or give a hoot about driving a Beemer and all that baloney.  Are there even seven materialistic things I want, say, before I die?  I would love a Viking range, a Kitchen Aid ice cream attachment for my mixer, a shopping spree in Sur la Table or Crate and Barrel, someone to come in and repaint the inside of my house for free, and oh hell!  While I'm at it, how about someone just gives me a summer home in Niagara-on-the-Lake? Wouldn't that be nice? Oh yeah, with a vineyard!

7.  Sloth:  According to everyone I meet, I have this one covered.  As soon as anyone hears I have Retired, the very next thing out of his or her mouth is, "Oh! And what are you doing now?"  It's become incredibly embarrassing to say "Nothing."  When did Retirement come to mean Moved On To Next Big Fucking Busy Work Thing?  Because I retired in order to Be Done Working. Here are seven things I'm NOT doing:  grading papers; calling parents of highschoolers; holding my pee for three hours because it's not my conference period or lunch period yet; having a 12-hour day because of parent conferences; buying my own supplies to the tune of a couple hundred bucks a year; pulling together a semester's worth of makeup work in one day for a kid who has been absent and failing but is entitled to his makeup work even though I know he will never turn it in; running to four different copy machines to find one that works in order to copy a test that I am giving that day since I tried to copy it all day yesterday to no avail.  Ahhh, yes.  Sloth.  I'm still, as far as Work Outside The Home Goes, diggin' the Sloth.

Now that I've suitably shocked and dishonored the memories of both Evagrius Ponticus and Gregory I, I invite you to help me celebrate my Blogiversary and do the same.  What are some of your Deadlies? (Or, if you don't want to share, you may merely comment upon mine.) And, oh, do have some cake.  But don't be Greedy and make a pig of yourself.

These People Are The Plastic Silverware Of The News Business

Probably it is A Good Thing that I have not lost my ability to be astonished at the age of almost fifty-three.  It would be mitigated considerably did I not watch quite so much News Programming.

I swear to you that I do far more talking to the people on television who irritate me than I do to those actually in my presence.  Can just anyone get an On-Air Gig these days?  It sure seems like it because some of these "on-air personalities" say such goofy stuff that, once I hear it, I sit there open-mouthed, blinking and furrow-browed, wondering if it is Bring A Bystander To Work Day.

For example:

~*~Was I the only one who heard the blurb for (I think) Inside Edition in which the personality breathlessly directed viewers to join them for their report about the Costa Concordia disaster, "a real-life Titanic!"?  Oh, help me now.  I like to call this The Disney Effect.  Just like the vast majority of America's children have no idea that there ever was a story/fairytale of Snow White or Cinderella or Beauty and the Beast first, (or that Pocahontas was a real person), some yahoo at Inside Edition honestly believes that the Titanic is simply a boat in a movie. Or just a movie. Period.

~*~A couple weekends ago, when the film The Vow went wide, some reviewer was on a morning show.  She was asked, "Who is this movie for?"  This woman went on to say this (and this is not a direct quote, but I am damn close. Seriously.): "Oh, females will definitely want to see this.  This is a film for women.  And girls will definitely want to see this, definitely.  And men.  This is a film for them as well."  Why does this female/girl/woman have this job? I definitely don't know.

~*~This week, there was a string of horrible storms in the South.  Alabama got hit with tornadoes that did terrible damage.  CNN cut live to a location where a local reporter was ready to talk to a host named Robin and give her an idea of the extent of that damage.  Here is how it went:

Robin:  Now we'll go live to H---, Alabama where a local affiliate has a reporter standing by.
Reporter:  Hi, Robin.  As you can see, residents here are coming back to little more than rubble here in H---.  The tornado destroyed homes, uprooted trees, and left massive piles of debris behind.
Robin:  Wow.  Quite a scene there.
Reporter:  It's amazing.  And here, just to show you the mighty power of that incredible storm...look up in that tree.  (camera pans up into a nearby tree)  That...is a pillow.  A pillow up in that tree.
...............................................................

Okay...what?  Listen, I am five-four and have had a shoulder surgery and I can throw a freaking pillow up into a tree.  I can also make a regulation three-point shot with a basketball and haul a 42-pound box of cat litter to and from my car, yet no one has ever described me as a "mighty power."  At least not for any of that.  My point is, that tornado levelled the entire town and you are impressed with a pillow in a tree?  If it was a tractor, then we have something to talk about.  If it was a pillow sticking through a tree, then, yeah, we can be amazed.  But come on! 

In the Age Of The 24-Hour News Cycle, it would seem "professional journalism" is on its way to becoming an oxymoron. 

How MSNBC.com Made Me Think Of Underwear, My Past, And My Talent For Sleight-Of-Hand

Ever since CNN.com screwed around with its web page format, I have relied more on MSNBC.com as my go-to online News Source. (And do not get me started on how Google News has completely alienated me with its Utter Annihilation. I'm Just Not Over It.) MSNBC.com says it brings me "A Fuller Spectrum Of News."

Holy Crap. They are not kidding.

Today, MSNBC.com boldly proclaimed that I could view something newsworthy called "Biggest Bra Moments." Naturally, I was initially intrigued, as an English teacher and Defender Of The Language, by the ambiguous placement of the modifier. Would I be viewing Moments of the Biggest Bras? Or are these the Biggest Moments In Bras? Because, really, either way, as a woman whose antipathy of this Egregious Garment is well known, I couldn't imagine why MSNBC.com would deem either one newsy in the least. Oh, titillating for the male readership, certainly, but as for the average female readers, it would cause nary a ripple of interest.

I clicked on the link and saw the first few slides of outrageous brassieres: the requisite Madonna cone bra, Lady GaGa's firework-shooting bra, one of Cher's bikini-topped Bob Mackie creations. I was--and remain--largely unimpressed. Those aren't really "Bra Moments" as far as I'm concerned. Those are just costume bikini tops. Maybe when Lady GaGa's started to shoot the fireworks, then okay. But other than that, no Moments. And doesn't Janet Jackson's "Wardrobe Malfunction" at the Superbowl count? Or no, because it wasn't technically a "bra," per se, but more of a corset thingy?

All in all, kind of a disappointment, really. So, I'd like to offer you a brief rundown of some of my Personal Favorite Bra Moments. Because I'm here for You, My Readers.

1. Teenage Idiot Moment: Back when I was probably 17 or so, my friend Marci had a blue Mustang with a sunroof. We used to go joyriding in it on the weekends. We'd sometimes go into downtown Cleveland and just drive around and be Teenaged Idiots. Sadly, this was like 1976, and I would be sometimes--not often--a bit inebriated in this pre-MADD, pre-alcohol-awareness age. One of my favorite things to do was to perform the Take-Off-My-Bra-Under-My-Shirt Maneuver, then fling it triumphantly forth in my hand, stick it out of the sunroof, and wave it around as we drove through the streets of Downtown. Why? Why, indeed.

2. All Summer, No Bra: A few years ago I was pretty sick and then recovering. I lost a great deal of weight...everywhere. The downside was that I looked skeletal. The upside? Basically, no boobs. I spent the entire summer in those little shelf-bra camisoles, which were the only sleeveless things that fit me, and they doubled as bras. Total comfort. Let me tell you: When I can get away with it, I eschew the brassiere entirely for those camis. Bless whomever came up with those. I have about eleventy thousand of them in all different colors. Priceless.


3. Completely Inappropriate Parking Lot Maneuver: Hey, listen. We all have Those Days when a certain bra is nigh unto killing us, and when we have had enough, we Have Had ENOUGH. As soon as I can get into my car, I do the TOMBUMS Maneuver (See #1, above), and stick that Torture Device into my purse. Of course, I make sure that there is No One Around! And I have gotten so incredibly subtle at The Maneuver that it merely appears that I am scratching a spot on my back or adjusting my shoulder seatbelt. Do longsleeves deter me? Ha! It is to laugh.




4. Unfortunately Timed Maneuver: In case you did not click on the embedded link above, here is the story for Your Convenience. If you already did, well, skippity doo dah down. Several years ago, the neighbor women behind us moved away. They did not inform me of exactly when their last day of residency was. One day, as I was performing the ritualistic Removal of the Bra While Still Wearing the Shirt maneuver at my back kitchen window, and was at the Triumphant Flinging of the Brassiere from Under the Shirt move, I caught the eye of our new neighbor who was outside on his deck, inspecting his new backyard. Oops. Strangely, this must not have made much of an impression. He has since told my husband, "In all the years I've lived here, I've yet to even see your wife!" Hmmm.....I am re-reading #2.

It's my feeling that I've been far more edifying on the subject of "Biggest Moments In Bras" (note the cleaned-up grammar) than MSNBC.com. It would be lovely if you could add your Memory Moments as well. If not, I'm sure you can find something to chat about anyway.

The Airing Of Grievances: An Early Festivus Celebration, Thanks To A Centipede In The Bathtub And David Gregory

Sunday nights are my traditional Soaky Bath Nights. I like to climb into a nice, hot tubby and just unwind and try not to think about another week at The Rock. Tonight, though, I pulled aside the shower curtain and got an unpleasant surprise. Skittering away from the light was a large, ugly thousand-legger. Uncharacteristically, I got all Girly and did one of those high-pitched in-the-throat screams that caused Jared to come running. He dispatched it immediately, and I got a quick idea for tonight's blogpost because seeing that hideous thing come crawling out from under its unknown hiding place made an immediate connection in my mind to another, one Rep. Joe Wilson (his poor mother!) on Wednesday evening, but I'll get to that.

It all started with yet another regrettable viewing of what passes for Meet the Press, but you and I know it is now just a thin shadow of that fine program. So, I'm channeling my inner Frank Costanza and invoking an early Festivus Tradition. To use his words: "The tradition of Festivus begins with the airing of grievances. I got a lot of problems with you people! And now you're gonna hear about it!"

I'm starting with David Gregory. I know. I already broke up with him once. But it apparently didn't take. I keep tuning in to MTP hoping that things will change and that he will come back to me. They haven't and he won't. So, David Gregory, listen up. I've had it with you, once and for all. You have single-handedly destroyed Meet the Press with your obvious bias and your badgering and your rudeness. You keep asking the same questions over and over and over again because you already have in your cocoon the answer you want to hear. Do you know why you have so many panels on your show, David? It's because NO ONE WANTS TO DO YOUR SHOW. Today on MTP, David said this, "I was talking to some people about their concerns...." Oh, David. You and I both know that has to be bullshit. You don't know any "people." And anyone you know who has "concerns" places them under the heading of Where to find good help these days or Get a pool guy who has papers or New Blackberry time? Please.

Next up is a guest on MTP today, some guy named Joshua Cooper Ramo who wrote a book. Please do not run out and buy it because if what this guy said is any indication of its content, you will be wasting your hard-earned cash. Here is a massive quote from Mr. Ramo: "You've got to have some really imaginative approach here that says we're going to change what it means to be unemployed in America." Okay. Mr. JC Ramo, it's your turn. What the HELL DOES THAT MEAN? Will that be like calling housewives "domestic goddesses?" Are we talking semantics here? Shall we just use new terminology for unemployment in order to make all the people without jobs feel better, like when we stopped calling people "handicapped" and started calling them disabled, or for a while there, "physically challenged?" Or, hey! Let's call this massive unemployment "National Vacation!" How about "Employment Hiatus?" Is that better? Mr. Ramo, being unemployed in America means what it always means: Americans do not have jobs. Ergo, American families do not have sufficient health care, sufficient money to pay for gas, food, insurance, and other bills. Lying on your back and looking at cloud shapes for duckies and bunnies isn't going to make it any better. Good luck with those book sales.

And, holy crap, do not get me started with Erin Burnett, who once said on MTP when asked how the stock market might react to President Obama's latest whatever, "It may go up or it may go down. It all depends." Wow. See above comments re: Panel Guests.

Remember, I told you I'd get back to Rep. Joe Wilson, aka The Face/Voice of The republican Party. Where do I even begin? No matter how hard they look--and they still are--the republicans will never find precedent for the disrespectful display put on by a member of their party during the President's speech last week. Newt (I'm Suddenly Everywhere) Gingrich tried lobbing a softball on MTP by mentioning "hearing boos" directed at The Angel of Death back in 2005 or something, but come on! Rep. Wilson, I have a few things to take up with you, and I hope your poor mother will forgive me. Did any Democrat ever call out any President a liar to his face on the floor of Congress, ever? Did anyone, ever? Until last week, the answer was no. You know, it's not lost on me (nor any other Thinking Individual, I'm sure) that it was you republicans who made a big effing deal about This President not being respectful enough of The Office to wear a suit coat in the Oval! Now we've got you, a republican who thinks it's just fine to call out the President of the United States as a liar in front of both Houses of Congress, not apologize until his party leadership told him to, and maintains that he is done apologizing, so there. Is this really what you envisioned for yourself?

Finally, it amazes me that so many people are, in a word, insane and completely inhabiting an Alternate Universe. They are screaming at town halls and sending psychotic emails and pretending to be patriots--er, excuse me--Patriots at so-called "tea party events" at which they say things that sound positively surreal. For example, in one poll 39% of respondents believed that the government should stay out of Medicare. Huh? These people are the same people who are forgetting that the current president inherited a big effing mess. To all of those people, I have to say this: "While Bush was in office, the median household income declined, poverty increased, childhood poverty increased even more, and the number of Americans without health insurance spiked. By contrast, the country's condition improved on each of those measures during Bill Clinton's two terms, often substantially." That's not Socialism, Nazism, or any other -ism. That's from the US Census Bureau. No one can fix everything in a few months, and it's obvious that you are nuts. Period. Now get back on your little scooters that the government is paying for, be careful that you don't shoot yourselves with your guns you bought at WalMart, and go home. Stop listening to the radio and go back to listening to your police scanner and looking for UFOs. Aren't you missing "Wheel of Fortune" or something?

One of the traditions of Festivus is the Festivus Miracle. I'd like to see one; I really would. Here is my idea of a Festivus Miracle: The republicans have styled themselves as the Christian/God Party, yet they seem almost phobic about the idea of helping those less fortunate. They cringe at the idea of a public option in health care; they become incensed that an "illegal" might sneak into an emergency room and get stitches. Don't they know that reference in Matthew where Jesus reminds them that what they do for the least of their brothers, they do unto Him? I'd like to see the republicans remember that. Just once. That's My Festivus Miracle.

Is Anybody Out There? Anybody At All?

Let me just say one thing right off the bat: I am operating under a whole new Priority System here. Priority One--remain vertical. Priority Two--maintain coherence. Priority Three--remember how it used to be and use that for incentive.

I can no longer count higher than three, nor can I remember anything more complex than three things at a time.

It was...exhausting last week. Trying to teach in 90+ degree heat was taxing enough, but add the noise of heavy construction vehicles about thirty feet away; the fatal shootings of two students in the neighborhood after hours; constantly changing class rosters (which means that no gradebook or attendance can be accurately kept yet); schoolwide picture day (students are walked down to be photographed from English classes, of course); a fire drill; heightened alert because of widespread text messaging that there would be retaliatory shootings at the school; and we are running at over 2200 students with more adding every day.
Friday could not come soon enough. Today was the first day I could scrape myself into some sort of coalesced blob capable of cogent thought and return to this space to explain myself.

So...hello!

Having said all of that, let's not talk about it anymore. I'm all fired up about other stuff, and before I can't sit up straight any longer, I want to share.

But first, Thank You, Brian Williams, for taking a nice vacation this past week. Your timing is impeccable. There is no possible way I could have even focused on your tie, let alone verbally embroidered a Tie Report a single solitary day. Naturally, this made a severely negative impact upon my Sitemeter, but honestly, big effing deal. It's not like the Jay Leno Show ever called me back or that each hit means ten thousand dollars. Feh.

A bigger hero in my life right now is Barney Frank. If the Dept. Of Nance was a television show, I would be all over myself booking him as my sole guest. Period. Forever. Right now, I am declaring him as my Smackdown The Stupid Mascot. Please tell me that you saw this wonderful performance by Congressman Frank of Massachussetts, in which he did what every single intelligent human being should do when confronted by these moronic shills for the Party of No when they start obfuscating the issue of healthcare reform with their baseless scare tactics. Why even begin to talk to these people? As far as I'm concerned, no more "Town Halls." It's clear that the Lunatic Limbaughean Fringe have co-opted these once vibrant and legitimate venues for sane discourse and turned them into the equivalent of a coffee klatch for kooks and crazy-peddlers. Self-respecting public servants, republican and Democratic alike, should simply say, "That's it. I am no longer disrespecting my office and my true constituency by appearing at these media feeding frenzies. My people know how to reach me to air their concerns. I anxiously await their feedback regarding healthcare via letter, phonecall, or comments via my website. I am eager to serve them, as I was elected to do, without media interference in this important debate." What a lot of bullshit.

And while I'm at it, I have a little message for President Obama, and this it is: BE THE LEADER. This sort of laid-back, make-nice, No Drama Obama is exactly what I was afraid of. You don't take a bigass thing like Health Care Reform and a nest of Pit Vipers like the sore loser republicans and say, "Okay, everybody, take a whack at this and see what you come up with and get back to me later. I'll see what I think and take it from there." Are you kidding me? THE REPUBLICANS WANT YOU TO FAIL SO THAT THEY CAN TAKE BACK A MAJORITY IN THE MIDTERMS. They don't care what you fail at, as long as it's something big. They don't care if it fucks up the entire country, either. They already did that, remember? Do you see them caring? Dear Barack--Come back from vacation early and smack some people around. Call in the Blue Dogs and remind them who is the President. And you'd better call in Howard Dean and have a conversation that matters. It's way past time for Big Talking with Big People. --Signed, Me, One of Those Who Had the Audacity to Hope for Change. Now bring it!

Another reason I thought I was in Hell this week--Two people who are still in the news and I still don't understand why: the hapless woman with eleventy billion children, the Octomother and the revered singer who died two months ago, MJ. (Can you tell I'm trying not to actually mention their names and add to their google hits?) How slow is the news, really, that these individuals are still part of it?

And, finally, come on--Brett Favre. Again. This "I'm retired--just kidding" bullshit is getting old. I hated it with Magic Johnson and, as a Cleveland Cavaliers fan, you know I hated it with Michael Jordan. Add to that the fact that fans and sportscasters alike act as if Favre is, well, a deity in a facemask just makes me sick. So, for those of you who need a reminder one more time, here. And, just so you know: once I retire, I will stay retired!

My vow to you.

It's Called "Priorities," America. Look Into It. And Our Media...It May Be Too Late.

All right. Fair warning. I'm about to unpack the Snark. You know, I've really been Holding It In lately because I cannot tell anymore if it's Hormones or Generalized Malaise or The Lousy Economy or what, so I've just kind of tried to rein in my Irk and release it harmlessly in traffic or by randomly venting at Jared here and there or by taking a few feeble smacks at Sam when he's home (which is about 3.2 minutes a week).

But really, why have a blog if not for cheap therapy? Duh.

Okay. So. WTF has happened to The Concept of JOURNALISM in this country? Has the so-called Mainstream Media just tossed in the towel and become the effing National Enquirer/Weekly World News now? First, we were all held hostage by the goddam OctoMom for eleventy months. Now, I cannot turn on CNN or MSNBC or pick up a previously respected piece of newsprint without encountering yet another lurid piece of reportage on the (I thought) deceased "King of Pop." Despite his arguably sizeable contributions to a myriad of charities, this tragic figure was, first and foremost, an entertainer. One of considerable and vast stature, yes. One whose indelible mark will be left upon the music world, yes. But good heavens. Enough already.

Buried beneath the garish and sensational heap of details surrounding each and every minute bit of this story is the real news of the day: Nevada's Senator John Ensign, whose self-righteous condemnation of President Clinton is now laughable, had his parents buy off his mistress like a common prostitute; security lapses allowed covert investigators to sneak bomb components into 10 federal government buildings and reassemble them in restrooms; Washington, D. C. recognized same-sex unions, just to name a few. Did you miss any of these stories? If you did, don't feel bad. How could you find them? All the major networks, including the music networks, cable news networks, and entertainment networks ran nothing but stories covering the life, death, and more indelicate details of the pop icon. It was inescapable. In 1980 John Lennon, member of the Beatles, another major force in American pop music (and the peace movement, and the anti-war movement), was brutally murdered. I remember it. What I don't remember is this kind of media saturation. In September 2008, major American cinema icon and million dollar philanthropist Paul Newman died. There was nothing near this kind of broadcast coverage.

To be fair, in 1980, there was no Twitter, no TMZ, no Google. There was no burgeoning Internet; CNN had only been broadcasting for 6 months. And let's face it; like the Octomom story, if there wasn't an appetite for it, the media wouldn't give it to the American People.

What the hell is happening out there?

The news media gives more coverage to President Obama's ability to take out a fly than his ability to be a dignified statesman and tackle the problems facing the nation. On MSNBC.com a couple of days ago, I had the surreal experience of watching a panel discussion of whether or not the new Sacha Baron Cohen film "Bruno" would further damage the standing of homosexuals while a second reporter broke in with updates on President Obama's visit with Pope Benedict; at the same time the crawl trumpeted a death during the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona and something about a cervical cancer drug.

Really?

Right now, on three news sites, (CNN.com, MSNBC.com, and ABCNews.com), there are, respectively, 4, 4, and 10 news stories on The Gloved One. This, eighteen days after his death.

Is anyone talking about North Korea? The two female journalists who were sentenced to 12 years hard labor in prison there? How about the fact that there are two senators (Baucus D-Montana; Grassley R-Iowa) already working hard in a bi-partisan fashion on a health care compromise, but both parties are trying to get them to quit?

Sigh.

The press took a Major Vacation during The Angel Of Death's administration because they didn't want to seem unpatriotic. They let him have a Free Pass and look What Happened. Now the press is just getting like a lazy parent who doesn't want to hear his/her kid whine and bitch and so feeds the brat a steady diet of junk food: Happy Meals, soda, Skittles, chips, cheezdoodles, and chocolate doughnuts. We're getting exactly what we want and we'll end up like that greasy-mouthed brat--sitting around in a fat-assed daze, not knowing what happened and looking for a quick fix.

Haven't we learned? There isn't one.