Morning Coffee (116)

An Ode to a Moll

Dear Kristen-Ashley-Alexandra-Dupre-Youmans:

The world has waited with baited breath, to see the woman whose skills hath wrest

The Governor from the Empire State. With modern media, we barely had to wait.

Here you are for all to see, GASP! You’re but a mere person just like me.

I had expected an incarnation of Aphrodite, in a negligee or perhaps a nighty.

But regrettably, that is not so, and on your myspace page trolls you a ho.

You’re so youthful and hopeful and full of angst, and wishing of a career in music, even if it tanks.

A thousand an hour you’re surely not worth, but let’s just say, I suppose I’ve seen worse.

Yours truly,

The Morning Coffee

Behold, the first ever poem to be written by the staff of the MC. So delicious. The subject matter is peculiar. As soon as we began to get over our faux shock of the Spitzer fiasco, we all wanted to know who this ‘Kristen’ girl was. Come now, be honest with yourself. We all wanted to know who the woman was who “brought low the Governor of New York.” I must say that I think she’s given far too much credit in this affair (pun), for the blame for bringing low Mr. Spitzer rests solely on Mr. Spitzer. Nevertheless, we knew, of course, that it would be a matter of days, if not hours, before young Kristen’s picture was all over the internet. And it was. She’s now very well known. She’s a Myspace page which showcases her (terrible) song. If you can’t access that page from your present location (many places of employment block Myspace), you can see the young lady HERE. I must say, I expected more from a “VIP Escort Service” for the young lady, for all her womanly charms and looks, is most certainly not worth $1,000 an hour. No way. Not even $200 an hour. But hey, I’m not rich. Writing the MC doesn’t pay enough for me to be able to afford high-priced hookers, er, escorts.

You can read all about her HERE (if you so choose). Her’s was a life of difficulty, blah, blah, blah, who cares, blah, blah. Bob Loblaw can write about it in his Law Blog if he wants. The bottom line is that this girl was not a victim, nor was she an evil predator. She is simply a girl trying to make money. So what? I don’t care about her whinny BS any more than I care about her music. Nevertheless, she’ll probably get a book deal out of it, or perhaps a recording contract (perhaps I need to get into the escort business). One would think, however, that her vocal style would be better with influences like the regal Etta James.

Anyway, Spitzer resigned and what not, and he’s now going to focus on his family. Utterly laughable. He has to focus on his family because no one else will touch the guy, not even the call girls. They know if they do that, they’re pictures will be all over the New York Times, and it’s hard being a high-priced call girl with that sort of publicity. What angers me most about Mr. Spitzer is not so much the fornication with prostitutes, but the hypocrisy of his life and the cheating on his wife (still in poet mode). If he wasn’t a vehement attack dog against this very sort of behavior while the Attorney General…It’s funny when the morality police are less moral than the average citizen.

What is inconceivable to me, however, is this talk that he shouldn’t be brought up on charges because he was forced to resign, as if that’s punishment enough. Serving the people is a privilege, and self-revocation of such a privilege is not a punishment for breaking the law. You do not get to avoid prosecution simply by giving up your office. Not only did Spitzer tout such a high moral code, but as an elected official, he should be held to the same standards, legally, as you or I…at a minimum. Sure, it’s unfortunate that such a “promising” politician has had to leave office, but it’s a monster of his own creation. And now he should face whatever charges we might face. There’s the possibility of tax fraud, of course. How about the Mann Act, which forbids the transportation of a person across state lines for the purpose of prostitution? You or I’d be charged with it. And you know what? Many of us would have to give up our jobs too.

I just realized that I’ve spent half a page discussing Eliot Spitzer’s fall from grace. Surely there are more important things to discuss. I hope my lovely poem gets me some slack.

Wacky Snow:

Since I’ve spent the majority of my time discussing the absurd, I might as well tell you that Montreal is the proud owner of one 80 foot high pile of snow that, unless broken up, will still largely be there next winter. That’s a lot of snow.

Uh…Wow:

In keeping with the absurd (it’s a theme today), we move onto Pam Babcock, a 35 year old woman who decided one day that she was going to sit on a toilet seat and not get up. For two years. Her skin actually grew around the seat. Pam suffered from a phobia, as a result of being struck in her childhood, and the bathroom was her safe area. She wouldn’t leave, and her boyfriend took care of her, all the while trying to convince her to get up and leave. She’d say, “Maybe tomorrow.” I’ve got to hand it to Pam, though. I am compelled to get up after about five minutes, tops. Hers is an example of endurance even monks would be envious of.

Word of the Day: Rodomontade (rod-uh-muhn-TADE) (noun): Vain boasting; empty bluster; pretentious, bragging speech; rant.

On This Day in History: Uranus was discovered by William Herschel (1781). Alexander II of Russia is killed by a hand-tossed bomb (1881). A Tennessee law prohibiting the teaching of evolution is enacted (1925).

“My advice to you is get married: if you find a good wife you’ll be happy; if not, you’ll become a philosopher.” – Socrates.

Morning Coffee (113)

Two people are talking; about nothing in particular. The first person mentions to the other that his third cousin’s nephew’s brother-in-law’s birthday is coming up on the 13^th of March. “Oh my God!” the other girl replies, “My birthday’s on the 13^th too!” The first replies with incredulous surprise, “Really?!” The soon-to-be birthday girl then utters, “Yes…how weird!”

Isn’t it amazing that people think things like this are amazing? As if they think that someone else having the same birthday as them is so utterly improbable that they are shocked and surprised that not only could it be so, but they just spoke with someone who knows someone with the same date of birth. Amazing…

White, Like Siberian Exile:

The heavens have opened up and poured down upon me a deluge of precipitation in the form of snow flakes. There must be, as Carl Sagan might (not) say, billions and billions of them, most of which have, by way of a miracle, been placed in the 1/10^th of an acre of freedom upon which I presently reside. At first, they appear light, fluffy even; as if a gentle breeze could/would blow them away and out of my sight forever. And the wind does blow them; it blows them into stark white Sahara dunes. But light and fluffy these flakes are not. No, they are heavy and dense, to which my creaky back can attest. And the wind turns me into an Arctic version of Sisyphus; I laboriously move snow into pretty little piles, at which time the West Wind repositions those piles in my wake. Help finally comes; a great mythical/mechanical beast that shoves the snow aside as if the flakes were but weightless rag dolls. But no, my eyes deceive me once again, for I see the future. I see the machination, in vehement fury fling the eye pollution towards the square footage I have recently emancipated; doing the job of a thousand West Winds. A gigantic wave of snow, propelled by the power of hundreds of horses, comes crashing down upon my shores. The Humanity! Why have the gods punished me so!? Have I not left the Wintry Purgatory eons ago? I start again, moving the newly condensed snow from its resting place into pretty little piles…

Wake Me Up When November Ends:

Isn’t it painful to watch? It’s almost unbearable. The sounds and sights are like watching pigs being slaughtered by a thousand incompetent butchers who botch the job over and over again. Imagine that. Blood soaking the floor, agonizing squeals, but the pigs never die and you’re forced to watch, paralyzed into inaction. You know you have to hire one of these butchers, but which fool do you entrust with the grisly work? The difference is the stakes are much higher than the quick deaths of a few pigs.

Seething McCain Tears Head off NYT Reporter; Shits Down Neck:

Have you heard about this? Of course you haven’t, because it didn’t happen. But McCain did “clash” with a NYT reporter on his campaign’s plane. The reporter questions McCain about a meeting he had with John Kerry in 2004, allegedly about McCain running with him as his VP. She really tries to get him to reveal what the meeting was about, despite him saying that it was well known that they had met, and he wouldn’t discuss details because it was a private meeting. He’s clearly annoyed by her line of questioning. A number of news outlets reported this story with the headline, “Why are you so angry?” which suggests that the reporter was baffled by McCain’s anger or maybe afraid or something similar. This isn’t the case. In fact, I’d say that this NYT reporter was a little gutless. Watch the video, which is in the link above. She says, “Can I ask you about, um…?” She then looks down for a second before looking up and sheepishly asking, “Why are you so angry?” McCain replies, “Pardon me?” Her reply was, “Never mind, never mind…” Gutless. Clearly, McCain was annoyed, I’ll concede that. But overtly angry? I don’t think so. She asked a negative question like that and then backed down, as if knowing that that question would become the news.

If Cancer Won’t Do It, God Dammit, Boeing Will:

Boeing and its legion of fanboys are still quite angry at McCain for sabotaging their bid to make aerial refuelers for the US Air Force.

But as there is always the proverbial silver lining to any dark cloud, this Boeing vs. Northrop Grumman/EADS issue has shown us the only thing that is more powerful than Party lines, as Democrats and Republicans alike have rallied behind Boeing against John McCain. What is really important is that contracts be awarded to companies in these Representatives’ states. In this, Dems and Repubs can join forces. So important is this one thing that they will mischaracterize the entire system of awarding contracts, disrespect the Air Force, and even lie outright.

The fact is, McCain killed the 2004 version of the tanker deal, in which Boeing would have been awarded the contract. This version was killed not because McCain has a pathological hatred for Boeing, as some Congressmen apparently think, but because Boeing executives recruited an Air Force official, Darleen Druyun, while she was still overseeing Boeing related contracts. This sort of behavior wasn’t new to Ms. Druyun, as she was involved in another controversy in 1993 involving McDonnell Douglas, which was later bought by Boeing. So deep do Ms. Druyun’s connections to Boeing run that she simply forwarded to the company resumes of her daughter and her daughter’s fiancé, both of whom got jobs there. At any rate, Druyun and the Boeing executive both served prison sentences for their roles in the 2004 tanker deal. Shame on you John McCain.

But McCain’s actions are not very merit-worthy according to some. Nancy Pelosi insists that Boeing was on course to win the new deal before McCain started rallying against it. What does this mean? I haven’t seen anything that suggests that McCain did any such thing in this most recent deal. Pelosi is either lying or knows something no press has reported. Likely the former.

Speaking of horse pucky, Rep. Rahm Emanuel (D-Ill) says, “Having made sure that Iraq gets new schools, roads, bridges and dams that we deny America, now we are making sure that France gets the jobs that Americans use to have. We are sending the jobs overseas, all because John McCain demanded it.” Rep. Emanuel must be afflicted with anosmia, because he can’t even smell the shit coming out of his mouth. Nowhere have I read that McCain has demanded that jobs be sent overseas. And even that is a gross misrepresentation of the contract anyway. Sure, Illinois and Washington State will not benefit from this contract, but Alabama will, as will a number of other states. The NG/EADS contract will create 2,000 jobs in Alabama and support 25,000 jobs at suppliers across the country. Some people (morons) have stated that the Boeing contract would have created 44,000 jobs. What sort of bullshit is this? The 767 is an existing platform with the infrastructure for it’s building already in place. It might have supported those jobs, but it didn’t create them. Furthermore, as I’ve said before, 60% of the NG/EADS built plane will be US made, which is 10% more than the minimum legal requirement in the Buy American requirement. Thus, Emanuel’s and Tiahrt’s complaints are invalid, and in some cases, blatant lies.

What they are right about, however, is that this issue stands to hurt McCain in the general election in these states, mostly because jobs are important to people, and any perception of losing those jobs, real or otherwise, is greatly terrifying, especially in the day and age of the Rust Belt. But we shouldn’t discount people’s gullibility, as they will eagerly consume the feces that the aforementioned Representatives produce because it plays to their fears. However, we should not forget one simple thing in all of this: the US Air Force will receive a better platform which will not compromise national security. If someone must be blamed by the faceless masses, it should be Boeing, who felt they were entitled to this contract, and proposed the same airframe as they did previously. Sorry Washingtonians and Illinoisans, but you’re welcome to vote your conscience.

Word of the Day: Cabal (noun): 1. A secret, conspiratorial association of plotters or intriguers whose purpose is usually to bring about an overturn especially in public affairs.
2. The schemes or plots of such an association.

On This Day in History: Stalin’s daughter Svetlana Alliluyeva defects to the US (1967). US Navy divers find the damaged crew compartment of the space Shuttle Challenger (1986). The bodies of all seven crew members were inside. Today we “sprung forward” which means I lost an hour of my day. Thus the MC is more like, Afternoon Tea.