Dear People without Televisions,

As I sink into my nest of pillows and blankets on the couch every night before Iron Chef, The Office, America's Next Top Model, Community, 30 Rock, etc., I know this vapid fare does not make me a better wife, mother, voter, cook, or sex partner. It only serves to dull my mind as well as my body.

"Hey baby? Grab me another Bud while you're in there."

Thereby I concede: I lose, you win. You are a better person than me, wholly entitled to that smug expression. Your kids are not mentally flattened by the likes of Spongebob and Hannah Montana. Their impressionable young minds are not swirling down the toilets of the Jersey Shore.

Can we be done with this now?

Because if one more television non-owner comes up to me and manages to find a way to inform me of their non-television ownership status within the first 30 seconds of our initial meeting, I'm liable to let loose a serious string of expletives.

It is obnoxious when you say, "Well--heh-heh--having not owned a television for the past 12 years ... " three seconds after I've extended my hand and introduced myself. Did you fail to notice that no one mentioned Satan's box or any of its relevant contents? And no, your jolly self-deprecating tone does not help. At all.

Remember when the first People With Cell Phones felt the need to say, "I'm calling you on my cell," at the beginning of every conversation? That is you, except they have faded, you have not.

Now for the bad news, sugartits. Having a television set is no longer relevant. You can watch mind-sucking slop online 24/7. Courtesy of a high-speed internet connection, the Cartoon Network will gladly deliver unto you Courage the Cowardly Dog starring in "Son of the Chicken from Outer Space" in all of it's glorious mediocrity.

Gee, you're in a tough situation. You either give up involvement in the modern world or try desperately to differentiate yourself within it. Because, whether or not you choose to dip your intellectual ladle into the barrel of online sewage is irrelevant, baby. Your choices are limited.

You could simply banish the evil Internet from your life, thereby joining the ranks of Aunt Gertie and Uncle Fred. Buy a cane while you're at it so you can shake something at the kids while you croak from the screen door, "Hey you kids! Get off the grass!"

Here's my advice: Come over to the dark side, if only for a moment. Click on, log in, drop down.

Behold a darling bevy of 16 and Pregnant mother's-to-be, or the luscious queens of RuPaul's Drag Race. Do what you do best and wax superior when the hellish reality of Hoarders comes spilling from your sleek iMac. Have an innocuous tab at the ready (Salon, HuffPo, or perhaps Epinion's latest commentary on Samsung's DualView digital camera). When the Missus wanders in to see what your chortling over, with one clandestine click, you'll temporarily banish Snookie & Co. until you are alone again with your new little friends.

You have another option. You could revamp your clever unlike bottom feeders like you, I don't have a television speech to sound more like this: "Although I'm completely savvy regarding today's online media, I never, ever use my Cox DOCSIS 3.0 enhanced wireless ultimate high speed connection to watch (ahem) television shows."

Only trouble is, no one will believe you.

* * *

They tried to murder me but I got rich parents

This, people, is why we have the Internet.

The good witch of Cleveland

The indignation of some righties over Carter's charge of racism is just laughable to me. Dig the comment section of this post.

And what about all that tea party tripe? Bogus photos and misquoted news agencies. To quote the esteemed Senator from South Carolina: "You lie!"

I keep thinking of the Glinda the Good Witch of the North telling Dorothy that her ruby slippers must be very powerful indeed or the Wicked Witch of the West wouldn't want them so badly. The righties sure want those slippers.


Yeah? Well then call me the Good Witch of Cleveland.

On to Obama. No, I don't agree with everything he's done, but he still has my support. This country is so diseased and so far off course to the right that I can't expect miracles, but I still have hope.

And I am in 100 percent agreement with James Carville about Latimer's new book Speech-Less. I may have no love for George W. Bush, but the President has a right to a casual life. If he is not actively "on the record" his aides ought to respect that. Latimer's a turd for publishing Bush's off-the-cuff comments. (Although I've got to admit it, if Dubya called Obama "this cat," it alters my opinion of the man. I love it when a guy calls another guy "cat." Always have.)

And if Bush didn't make those comments, Latimer's an even bigger turd. Either way he gives us writers a bad name.

I'm off to recharge my magic wand.

* * *

Phone cam round-up: travel edition

A proper photo essay of Los Angeles is forthcoming. Until then ...


Coffee while waiting to depart at Max & Erma's in Cleveland Hopkins International Airport. Wouldn't sit on that dumb barstool.


Wild snails roaming the streets of Los Angeles.


Terrifying tree trunk.


Black tie strew across a bush.


A ladies' sweater was folded atop a pair of high heels beneath an adjacent bush. I hope they had a good time.


ipods and gadgets for sale in LAX. Who buys an iPod in an airport? Dunno.


Mystifying hand dryer.


A big steer in the Houston Airport.


George H. Bush statue and misc. in the Houston Airport.


Bushi info.


Beetles copulating in my driveway upon my return home.

***

Belated, but still oh so relevant

Just watch it. Even if you don't watch the whole thing--just watch some.



No wonder the people of these great United States will miss him so.

YouTube stolen from some of me online droogies.

W. redux

As promised, albeit few days late, here are some of my thoughts on W. in no particular order.

1. Josh Brolin is hot.

2. Stone uses food and drink as a stylistic device throughout the film. The chewing, the ice in the glasses, the sloshing bottles of liquor were all highlighted in weird cinematic ways, lighting, slo-mo, enhanced sound. Don't miss: the pecan pie service during the meeting wherein Chiefs of Staff acknowledge there are no WMD in Iraq.

2.5 . All the Chief of Staff meetings were delicious to watch. Total fiction? Probably, but who cares?

3. Richard Dreyfuss is a perfect Darth Cheney--down to (quite literally) the teeth.

4. The filmmakers have posted their own fact-checking site.

5. Bush is depicted with more sympathy than I expected.

6. The movie was about 20 minutes too long. The back story could have been tightened.

7. Bush senior (James Cromwell) did not recall George H. accurately for me.

7.5. Rove (Toby Jones) also only got about 50 percent for me.

8. The film needed better timing and a few more sweeping "big screen" moments such as the war protest montage.

9. It's not a deep film. This is about entertainment.

10. I didn't even remember CIA head man George Tenet (Bruce McGill). Stuff like that came flooding back to me during the film.

11. Stone projects contrast via caricature again and again. He does it within W most notably. Brolin is dead-on as W with mannerisms and appearance, but his interaction with food is almost cartoonish. Then there is Condi Rice (Thandie Newton) who is a complete caricature.

12. Rumsfeld (Scott Glenn) was a major character that fell flat. Why? I couldn't understand it. There was so much about him to play upon--the impish evil grin, the flirting with the camera. Stone left all of that on the table.

13. Michael Gaston's Gen. Tommy Franks is a minor character that is a very satisfying caricature. Who didn't want to see this guy portrayed like an asshole?

14. I liked the ending.

15. Did I mention that Josh Brolin is hot?