Oakleafmold

A So-So Weekend Ends Well

2011-01-23T20:42:00.001-08:00

Good and bad--the kids' athletic teams--two different sports--both had nice victories, which always puts everyone in a good mood. It was good to spend some time with the other parents, too, as good as it is funny to say that. I'm recalling how January and February used to be social wastelands, with people retreating following the crush of Halloween to Christmas engagements. Sports pushes us out the door during these bitter winter days--and I do mean bitter, we're looking at 4 degrees out there!

After one of their contests yesterday, I returned home to discover that a daughter, whose name shall remain nameless, took the easy way out of cleaning the kitchen sink and rinsed a whole lot of food chunks down the drain. Mrs. OLM had tried to be pro-active, removing the elbows of both basins and disconnecting all the various lengths of PVC. Sigh. Missed a party for that one, and didn't wholly solve the problem until Lowe's opened this morning at 10am and I was able to score some plastic gaskets--the ones that always break when you loosen the connectors. I bought a dozen, embracing the inevitable, reassembled all the pipes, and get this: nothing leaked when I ran the water through the system. It's unprecedented, and I'm still waiting for my karmic penalty.

Yes, I'm well aware this post is beginning to sound like something from a mommy blog.

Football. The Steelers dispatched the too-damned-feisty New York Jets for a shot at Aaron Rogers and the Green Bay Packers in this year's Super Bowl. Sweet. The Packers scare me--Rogers is the only QB in the league I consider the equal to Ben Roethlisberger. I also dig that this will be the matchup between the NFL's two most distinguished, old-school, small market football teams. Chicago would have been an equally good fit, historically speaking, but they never had a chance, not behind that line.

Almost done with the Fedco Seeds order. More soon on that.

I know that post is reading like a Mommy Blog.

And So It Begins...Onions and Leeks

2011-01-16T08:21:00.000-08:00

Not 2011, that's old news, but however strange it might seem with a fairly deep coating of snow in the yard, the Gardening Season is upon us. I've been indulging in "Seed Porn" since early December, when the Pinetree Gardens catalog, traditionally the first of the year, showed up in our mailbox. Now it's time to determine what seeds we're going to buy from which seed houses, my favorite shopping quandary of the year.

I've never ordered from the big, glossy, Jung Catalog--mostly because it reminded me of the cheap and cheesy catalogs put out by dubious Gurney's/ Henry Field's/ Ferry Morse/ Michigan Bulb/ Springhill Nursery/ Scarlet Tanager LLC. retailing cabal. An unfair connection, however subconscious . So, when my father-in-law decided he wanted onion starts from Jung I put off my initial reservations (not to mention my pride, since I've been growing my own starts from seeds for years) and added some seed packets, you know, just to "make it worth the price of shipping."

"Making it worth the price of shipping" has been, for as long as I've been gardening, the excuse to buy far more seed than I need, from a wider variety of merchants than is really necessary. It's a spiral of irresponsibility, and I can't help myself. I have a Seed Problem. I know it. I hear the whispers. I see the zip lock bags in the top drawer of the refrigerator, filled with half packets of a dozen different tomato varieties, and I don't care.

I'm starting "Ailsa Craig Exhibition" and "Copra" onions from seed--the same that I grew last year. The former, an heirloom variety from Scotland that dates back to the 1800's, has become my favorite onion, sweet but not overly so, averaging about 2lbs. It is tremendous fresh. We plant them somewhat densely and eat from the bed as soon as the bulbs start to fill out, leaving space for the rest to grow huge. I have seem descriptions that say Ailsa Craig stores well, but that has not been our experience. We count on ours going soft--and sprouting leaves--by Christmas, at the latest. That's when Copra kicks in--a medium onion, ours average around 5oz., I'd estimate--and rock hard. It's not an heirloom, but we were looking for an onion that will get us as close to summer as possible, to minimize that unfortunate window between running out of last year's stored onions and this year's harvest. So far, so good on the Copra. I'm pleased to report that the flavor is better than expected, as well. I had assumed an onion touted to store for up to nine months would have all the subtlety of a hand grenade.

My father in law is buying plants of a variety called "Red Zeppelin"--they look to be large (4"), red onions with good flavor and medium storage quality. The pictures look beautiful, almost purple, but the name alone makes it worth trying. I'll report back.

Keeping it in the allium family, Leeks are our next concern. Last year I fell ass over teacups for Blue Solaise. I was victimized by a windstorm that blew over my mini-greenhouse last year, and bought starts from Mildred's Daughters Urban Farm. They were real life-savers, since Leek starts in general are not particularly easy to find, and these French heirlooms are somewhat obscure. Usually, if one find leek starts they're of the Lancelot, Lincoln, or King Richard. Nothing wrong with those, but I like these. Supposedly, Blue Solaise can hold through even a hard winter, but I can't say for sure. I ate them already. We've got some Lincoln in the deep freeze, but it's not the same. I'll leave some to overwinter this year. I get my leek seed--and most of my vegetable seed, from independent Fedco Seeds.

Breaking News: Fast Food Usually Unhealthy

2010-11-10T07:45:00.000-08:00

I woke up yesterday to find the television news shows ablaze with the revelation that studies show fast food items--children's meals, to be precise--are not the healthiest options for providing a nutritionally sound diet. All three major networks were airing reports at the top of the hour, ahead of post-election politics and the daily dose of middle-east unrest.

Shazaam! Who'd a thunk it?

I listened to the shocked and outraged researcher indignantly describe the worst meal (Dairy Queen's Cheeseburger, Fries, "Sugary Soft Drink," and Dilly Bar.) and the best (The veggie hoagie from Subway with apple slices and fruit juice.) The implication was clear: we've been deceived! How dare they!

Well, it may be that the scornfully pronounced name "Dilly Bar" made me lustfully delirious, but for the first time in recent memory I found myself agreeing with those foaming-mouthed conservatives who rage against "The Nanny State." As the story continued, another nutrition activist complained that not only did the fast food places sell this unhealthy stuff, they neglect to actively inform customers that healthier fare is available. Undercover reporters from a news outlet confirmed that when they went into different restaurants not one adolescent minimum-wage cash register automaton suggested healthier options. The bastards.

I imagined the scenario:
Teenager in Paper Hat (TIPH): Hello and Welcome to O'Burgers.
Me: Hi
TIPH: How can I help you today?
Me: I'd like the O'Burger Supreme with fries and a Coke.
TIPH: Are you sure your wouldn't like to have our brown rice dinner with sun-shriveled prunes?
Me: Nope, pretty sure I want the O'Burger.
TIPH: Would you like to downgrade from Supreme-sized to Modest-sized. It's only a dollar less for half as much! Modesty is a virtue.
Me: I like to have a little left to throw out when I'm full, just to spite those hungry Chinese children my mom used to whine about.
TIPH: It does look like those pants are getting a little tight, and you're flushed. Are you getting enough cardio?

I suppose this has relevance to a few oblivious people who feed their children a steady diet of crap, but I suspect most folks who hit a burger joint know what they're getting into when they go there. But maybe that's why I don't get it. We probably do fast food a half dozen times a year, generally while on the road, knowingly putting convenience, expedience, and economics ahead of nutrition.

It shouldn't be the responsibility of businesses to regulate the behavior of their customers. Indeed, the suggestion that fast food restaurants are intentionally exploiting people, and that people are incapable of understanding what they're eating, stinks of arrogance. That said, if we absolutely must expend resources on what seems to be a moot point, then those resources would be better spent on teaching consumers to be more selective than on shaming companies into limiting the options they provide.

The Blog Formerly Known as Oakleaf Mold

2010-08-04T17:22:00.001-07:00

Every year about this time I lament being too busy/distracted/lazy/unfocused/dilatory/lame about writing here there everywhere--or anywhere at all. Will a new name will shake me from my torpidity? The eponymous old one wasn't doing me any favors, and it was vain. I wrote in this blog like I was walking on a yacht--and that could just not stand.

The new name hearkens back to the iconic Christmas movie starring my home town's favorite son, Jimmy Stewart. It's supposed to be ironic, since these days we've got ourselves an infestation of Potters--not Harry, but the evil banker type.

Indeed, I was tempted to call this Blog "Fuck You, Indiana" and each week celebrate a local person or entity who places his own interests above those of the community. I had my eye on a University president, a bunch of school board directors, and people who try to get residential neighborhoods re-zoned to accommodate student tenements, so they can turn a quick buck at the expense of the families who have made a home there.

I opted not to do this, because it would be petty.

On the other hand, I just heard that the borough council is considering evicting the community library from it's historic location, so I just may change my mind.

See you soon.

Balloon Boy: Obvious Publicity Stunt

2009-10-16T03:55:00.000-07:00

I'm 2000 miles away, but I'd be more than willing to bet a good Italian Hoagie that the recent runaway balloon drama out in Colorado was a publicity stunt engineered by the wacky inventor, storm chaser, and wife-swappin' reality TV "star" father. I predict that the Heene family will be accused of manufacturing the entire incident, and that Colorado officials will move to charge them with...whatever people who waste the time of emergency services get charged with...and attempt to recoup some of what must have been thousands of dollars on the wild goose--er--balloon chase. I mean, no way does this kid manage to hide in a box through it all. No damned way.

Again, I have no evidence other than insight. This is a prediction, not an accusation. I just want it on the record so I can put on pretensions later. I am Oakleaf Mold. I see all.

Listening To--The 5th Dimension: Up, Up, and Away (not really)

He Said It, I Didn't

2009-10-15T11:52:00.000-07:00

"I am a subhuman species with no right to exist outside these radio waves,"
--Rush Limbaugh

http://www.nydailynews.com/sports/football/2009/10/15/2009-10-15_bondy_rush.html#ixzz0U23vbLod

Over-Inflated Megan McCain Flap

2009-10-15T10:45:00.000-07:00

First of all: wow, I'd forgotten how much fun stuff there is to blog about.

Now, about this Megan McCain humongous hooters hype. Should I admit that I had to think a moment before I recalled who she is--I actually thought of frozen french fries first: was she the frozen french fry heiress? Nope, she's the daughter of Senator John Methuselah McCain, and apparently a "right wing firebrand" and blogger, despite being a mere (can this be right) 24 years old. That means her dad must have been a ripe old 86 or 87 when she was born--way to go, Senator.

Regardless of how old she is, Ms. McCain seems to be in trouble for posting a photo, in which here "yikes"-sized breasts are featured prominently, though not obscenely, on her Twitter feed. Big deal. It must have been a really, really slow day for folks to get all worked up over a pair of outlandish outriggers. We're all connected to the interweb, right? I've googled up Yogi the Bear and seen worse than this. Indeed, I looked at Ms. McCain's blog and found something much more appaalling: she'd cited "Stairway to Heaven" as song of the day. Ug. Never-the-less, aside from looking about as solid as Sarah Palin's chances in 2012, I don't get the controversy. I thought it was all about nipples? No nipple, no problem.

Conservatives confuse me. McCain seems decent enough, if a little vapid, and she certainly seems more humane than most republicans. Who cares if she doesn't wear turtlenecks around the apartment--if she did, would there be complaints that they were too tight?* These folks should be desperate for any young, vital, and socially relevant voice, regardless of cup size. Is it McCain's fault that she's a big girl? She looks healthy. Rush Limbaugh doesn't look nearly so healthy, and his breasts are even bigger than McCain's--so, enough with the double standard.

*I'm wearing a turtleneck right now.

Listening to--Townes Van Zandt: Tucumseh Valley

Denver Broncos' Vertical Striped Socks

2009-10-15T09:58:00.001-07:00

It appears that I'm one of a very small community of people who liked the Denver Broncos' "throwback" uniforms. Indeed, the elements that I liked best--the vertical-striped socks and the high-school style white numbers on plain brown helmets--are the very things I notice so many people complaining about. I like the socks a lot. There's no real reason why I need to share this with the universe. I don't have aspirations of starting a vertical-striped socks trend, or even an appreciation society. I just wanted you to know.

Can I write a comeback blog entry or what? Whoo-yah.

Listening to--Townes Van Zandt: Cowboy Junkies Lament

SUMMER BREAK ENDING SOON

2009-10-08T04:59:00.000-07:00

Life is settling down--look for the old blog o' mine to make a "final" re-emergence by the end of October. Final? Yup, if I don't manage some sort of velocity this winter then I'm pulling the plug and giving up. The pressure is really on now, eh? Life or death! Let's go, blog. Let's see what you can do.

Oakleaf Mold's Big Flickr Adventure: PULP ART BOOK

2009-07-23T09:28:00.001-07:00

PULP ART BOOK, originally uploaded by neil krug.

(Aside to Sarah: Winners never quit; quitters never win.)

This photo is a collaboration between supermodel Joni Harbeck and photographer Neil Krug for upcoming PULP BOOK (200+ images).

www.pulpartbook.com

Listening To: Bedlam Rovers, Frothing Green

Another Reason The Eighties Were So Much Cooler Than You Think

2009-03-11T21:01:00.001-07:00

Silly art school new wave weirdos and unintentional humor.

Put Down The Gold Medals and Come Out With Your Hands UP

2009-02-12T10:43:00.000-08:00

The nimrod bumpkin local Sheriff in Columbia, South Carolina, where swimming star Michael Phelps allegedly smoked pot at a college house party, is making a big deal about prosecuting the Olympic champion, and is sparing no expense in the pursuit. Apparently, Sheriff Leon Lott has crime so completely in control within his jurisdiction that he has the time and manpower to launch a comprehensive investigation into what is clearly a very minor breach of justice.

According to a defense lawyer representing one of several people who have already been arrested or questioned, a team of a dozen armed officers stormed the house where Phelps attended a party and was photographed holding a bong--4 MONTHS AGO--and seized a bong (no one is saying if it was THE bong) and "less than an ounce" of marijuana. Among those arrested were former residents of the house, even though they were not at home during the events in question. According to their attorneys, they were questioned about Phelps, not about their own involvement in the case.

If Phelps had been down their selling bags, or handing out free doobies by the duffel-bag full, I could see why Lett is obsessed with pressing this case; but the guy smoked some pot. What are they going to charge him with--misdemeanor possession of a pinch of pot? Can they prove it was pot in the bong, and not fancy tobacco--or a simple pantomime?

If I'm the voters in Columbia, South Carolina, I'm wondering if Sheriff Leon Lett is demonstrating responsible allocation of resources or shameful self-aggrandizing in the pursuit of this case. Of course, this is the same guy who bought a surplus army tank--complete with a .50cal anti-armor turret-mounted machine gun--for his department, so maybe the voters don't care how he spends their money.

I would also wonder what serious crime is going on while a dozen deputies are tossing college rental houses and sifting through students' garbage for spent roaches? It's ridiculous, and at least one retired cop isn't afraid to say so.

(Photo shamelessly pilfered from press releases via Reason.com which I'm plugging HERE)

Listening To: Pavement, Crooked Rain Crooked Rain

I Wanna Wanna Fatwa & A Score of Warrior Monks

2009-02-05T04:45:00.000-08:00

I'd like to have the authority to issue binding proclamations, "get it done" rulings to deal with people and things that get me down. Like Don Corleone dispatching Luca Brazzi, Jean Luc Picard lilting "make it so," or a Muslim cleric damning Salman Rushdie. We're talking fatwa, baby. Fatwa.

This morning, the first thing I'd do is unleash the hounds on this guy. In case you didn't hear, English Catholic Bishop Richard Williamson recently used and interview to assert that the holocaust pretty much never happened, at least not on the scale that history books and eyewitnesses--both survivors and admitted perpetrators--claim. This is Williamson's thing. Some guys play with model trains, some play the trumpet, and others just love to sit back on the weekend and whitewash a little genocide.

I hate holocaust deniers like Indiana Jones hated Nazis--they're pretty much the same species, if you ask me. I don't know what is worse, that this guy believes this crap, or that he gets to spout his garbage in a Bishop's robe. And what does this say about the current Pope, who reversed Williamson's excommunication. This is particularly embarrassing for the German Pope, whose homeboys are still just a little red-faced about that whole Nazi thing.

The Vatican is in big-time damage control/back-tracking mode right now, demanding that Williamson retract his statements as part of his ex-excommunication. Well, bully for Pope Billy, but it's a little too little, too late. Supposedly, the Pope was unaware of Williamson's latest cracked rantings, muttered even as he was dutifully rubbing the holy eraser on the lines where Williamson had been penciled out of The Great Big Book of Happenin' Holy Romans. I say "supposedly" because Williamson's been spouting this garbage for years.

I don't mean this as an indictment of Pope Benedict, nor do I mean to imply that the Pope, the Vatican bureaucracy, or the Church itself is either anti-Semitic or, like Williamson, just plain stupid. This snafu was certainly a bureaucratic mistake. I believe that the Pope was ignorant of Williamson's idiocy, but somebody clearly dropped the ball on the background check.

This is why I need my own theocratic--or, at very least, paternalistic--organization, including the above-mentioned power of proclamation. A full-blown church would be perfect, but I'd settle for a low-profile cult. A few dervish-like extremist followers would be good, and maybe some warrior monks. Twenty warrior monks with secret tattoos and brightly colored fezs which, inexplicably, the targets of their wrath won't notice until it's too late. I'd very much like to wiggle my little finger and have lackeys--or the warrior monks--rushing off to bitch slap moronic gasbags like Williamson. "Take care of it," I'd say, nodding just so.

And they would.

L. Ron Hubbard got it all wrong. It's all well and good to make a fortune from a made-up religion, but it's the opportunity to clean up the planet a bit that I'd really cherish. Me and the warrior monks.

And as an aside to Dickie Williamson and any other ass-hat who shares his bullshit ideas: dude, my grandfather, a gentle and quiet man, brought home snapshots of a concentration camp he visited at the end of WW2. The experience haunted the rest of his life. I have these pictures. They're real. I'd post scans here but I don't want them on my blog, don't want to look at them or even think about them even more than I must: emaciated corpses piled up like kindling, stick-figure bags of bones tossed carelessly into half-filled open pit graves where the Nazis left them when they ran, a rendered wraith of what once was a man, severed just below the shoulders for god knows what devilish purpose--just a head, neck, shoulders and arms--pictures he took with his own hand, of things he saw with his own eyes, and Gramp wasn't a liar. Far from it.

do some clicking:

http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=auschwitz&m=text
http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=Belzec&m=text
http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=Majdanek&m=text
http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=Sobibor&m=text
http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=Sobibor&m=text

Listening To: Laura Cantrell, Not The Tremblin Kind

South Carolina Senator Advocates Confederate Holiday

2009-02-04T06:42:00.000-08:00

In the "you've got to be kidding me" department, Democratic state Senator Robert Ford has proposed legislation in favor of creating a statewide "confederate memorial day" that would be a paid holiday for state and county workers. I don't quite get forcing tax payers to fund a holiday that honors those who tenaciously fought to maintain slavery. Senator Ford hopes that his holiday will help educate black and white South Carolinians about their shared history (gosh, remember when my great granpappy owned your great granpappy, sold off all your great uncles and raped your great aunts--those were good times, weren't they?)and accelerate the healing process between the races. In this he is at best naive; at worst: an idiot.

I'm all for holidays, but I submit that there is more than enough room on regular memorial day to celebrate the memory of the confederate war dead (cough, racist scum, cough). Imagine if German-Americans advocated for a holiday that remembered the noble efforts of the Nazis! They wouldn't, but just imagine. Or, we could have a Native American Extermination Day--maybe we could make that a 4-day weekend because, heck, we had to kill a lot of Indians to get this country ready for sub-divisions and strip malls.

I read Gone With The Wind. I get it. I understand that some southerners still regard the civil war as a economic conflict by a north that was jealous of the fiscal efficiencies of slave-based economy. Thus: "The Great War of Northern Aggression." I even understand the perspective, however misguided, that when they romanticize the old south they are recalling a way of life--cotillions and mint juleps, noble gentlemen and porch swings and hazy, humid summer nights--not the systematic oppression, exploitation, and dehumanization of an entire race. I also understand these views are bullshit. All the glories of the beautiful old south were fed on misery, built from the bones of generations of slaves and nourished with the blood of the same It was not a fantasyland of plantation princesses and lordly gentry, but a fetid and corrupt society for which all who benefited, however indirectly, are ultimately culpable. Honoring those who actively perpetuated these crimes is, at best, sinful.

Senator Ford should know better.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/29003595/?gt1=43001

Listening To: Husker Du, New Day Rising

Karen Carpenter is back! Just listen to her voice!

2009-01-29T09:09:00.001-08:00

Weird. Not coincidentally, "Merry Christmas Darling" is my favorite holiday song.

Oakleafmold's Big Flickr Adventure: message for obama

2009-01-29T03:55:00.001-08:00

message for obama, originally uploaded by happeningfish.

This pretty much says it all, don't you think? It's such a strange phenomena to have a leader than inspires such optimism and excitement. Completely unprecedented in my 4 decades.

Reason #2 The Eighties Were Better Than You Ever Thought: Magic Johnson, Dr. J, and Larry Bird

2009-01-29T03:23:00.000-08:00

Magic, Bird, and Dr. J ruled the NBA during the 1980's, back when the NBA still closely resembled the game we call "basketball". Keystones of their respective, star-laden teams, it was both a pleasure and privilege to watch them--at a time when pro basketball was still watchable. (the way they play today I'd rather have a good, cleansing bout of stomach flu.)

Beginning with the 1979-80 season, either the Lakers, Celtics, or Sixers grabbed the NBA crown--usually by beating one of the others, for nine straight years. Superstars in their own rights, what sets these three rivals apart from their contemporary counterparts is that they were ultimate team players, especially Bird and Magic, who could put up 40pts on any given night but were more likely to throw down 25 with a dozen assists and rebounds. More impressively, these guys committed themselves to something called "defense," an archaic component of the game that has virtually disappeared from the NBA.*

Kobe Bryant wishes he was as good as these guys.

*Defense entails stopping the other team from scoring, rather than just waiting for your chance to shoot.

Pittsburgh's Goin' To Tha Super Bowl!

2009-01-18T22:11:00.000-08:00

After a thrilling, nerve-wracking brawl with the team we love to hate, the loathed Baltimore Ravens, The Steelers head down to Tampa for their seventh Super Bowl and a shot at an unprecedented sixth Championship, and second in 4 years. Sweet.

A Division Title on Sunday, and a new President on Tuesday. Nice week. Real nice week.

Special thanks to fellow Steeler List-er Ricardo Madrazo for the cool "Roadkill" graphic.

Listening To: The Pittsburgh Polka (of course)

Big Flickr Adventures #1

2009-01-16T21:26:00.001-08:00

Body 'n' soul, originally uploaded by Ende.

Update: though no longer available for blog access, the awesome photo from above can still be seen via direct link here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/ende/58572214/

Oakleafmold loves flickr, a massive online repository of photography and other imagery into which I could dive for hours at a time, rising for breath only occasionally, like a whale or sea lion, before plunging again. Tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, of user/contributors have uploaded millions of images, a cornucopia visual art, from traditional realism to super-experimental, from family vacation photos to elaborately staged and painstakingly executed professional photography. Rough or slick, traditional or digitally manipulated, silly or sexy, amateur or pro, haughty or unassuming: there is something for everyone--and quite a lot for me. A person could learn a lot about photography just roaming around here.

My Big Flickr Adventures do not claim to represent the best and brightest work available here, but are rather a reflection of a particular moment's meandering. It's an impulsive thing--and since it's my blog, that's just the way it's supposed to be. Likewise, any commentary I include is, of course, unlearned and amateur. I have neither the eye nor the vocabulary to critique photography, but I do happen to be self-aware enough to recognize when I admire a photo, when it moves me, makes me grin, or--best of all--makes me wish I'd shot it. (not that I could).

I like this one for a lot of reasons--the depth of field, the lighting, the intimacy of an otherwise unremarkable action, buckling the strap on a pair of shoes.

Andrew Wyeth Dies

2009-01-16T08:24:00.000-08:00

Andrew Wyeth, the American painter best known for the yearningly rustic painting "Christina's World," prints of which hang over more sofas than any other painting, died last night. This begs the question: who knew this guy was still alive?

Quote of The Week: John Galbraith

2009-01-12T07:04:00.000-08:00

A person buying ordinary products in a supermarket is in touch with his deepest emotions.
--John Kenneth Galbraith

For The Man Who Has Everything

2009-01-09T11:01:00.001-08:00

From the guy who now thinks he's SEEN everything.

http://www.gigimo.com/main/product/Artificial,Virginity,Hymen,2299.php?prod=2299

Listening To: some sort of classical stuff--it's streaming, no idea what it is.

Reason #1 The Eighties Were Better Than You Ever Thought: The Minutemen

2009-01-07T12:33:00.001-08:00

Minutemen Corona Acoustic

Link to a non-acoustic version:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLRj253FelU&feature=related

Listening To: duh.

Oakleafmold Returns! Let The Resounding Silences Begin!

2009-01-07T11:55:00.000-08:00

The Oakleafmold hiatus was supposed to conclude back in October, or November at the latest, but I've been thwarted at every turn. First the cabana didn't have wireless service, then there was that ugly incident with the coconuts. On top of that, the internet cafe which serves as my alternative posting site instituted a "no pants, no service" policy. Are you kidding me? Do you know how long it takes to weave pants out of palm fronds?

Now that we've given up sugary cocktails with little umbrellas and fruit and returned to the ice and snow of Westsylvania, USA (smile when you say that, pardner), we can get back to all of your favorite features, like quote of the week, as well as "Girls of Our Dreams" and new fun like "Reasons The Eighties Were Better Than You Thought They Were" and "Oakleafmold's Big Flickr Adventures."

Welcome back to Me! Huzzah!

Pete Drake - Forever

2008-11-24T02:02:00.001-08:00

Thanks to Chuck for finding this. It might not be, as he contends, the greatest music video ever, but it's close. Damn close. Commentators on this Youtube-hosted video point out it's eerie resemblance to David Lynch's work. Spot on.

Barack Obama’s Election Night Address

2008-11-10T04:49:00.000-08:00

November 5, 2008

Hello, Chicago.

If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen, by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different, that their voices could be that difference.

It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled. Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of red states and blue states.

We are, and always will be, the United States of America.

It's the answer that led those who've been told for so long by so many to be cynical and fearful and doubtful about what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this date in this election at this defining moment change has come to America.

A little bit earlier this evening, I received an extraordinarily gracious call from Sen. McCain.

Sen. McCain fought long and hard in this campaign. And he's fought even longer and harder for the country that he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine. We are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader.

I congratulate him; I congratulate Gov. Palin for all that they've achieved. And I look forward to working with them to renew this nation's promise in the months ahead.

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart, and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on the train home to Delaware, the vice president-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

And I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last 16 years the rock of our family, the love of my life, the nation's next first lady Michelle Obama.

Sasha and Malia I love you both more than you can imagine. And you have earned the new puppy that's coming with us to the new White House.

And while she's no longer with us, I know my grandmother's watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight. I know that my debt to them is beyond measure.

To my sister Maya, my sister Alma, all my other brothers and sisters, thank you so much for all the support that you've given me. I am grateful to them.

And to my campaign manager, David Plouffe, the unsung hero of this campaign, who built the best -- the best political campaign, I think, in the history of the United States of America.

To my chief strategist David Axelrod who's been a partner with me every step of the way.

To the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you've sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to. It belongs to you. It belongs to you.

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn't start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington. It began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston. It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give $5 and $10 and $20 to the cause.

It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation's apathy who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep.

It drew strength from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on doors of perfect strangers, and from the millions of Americans who volunteered and organized and proved that more than two centuries later a government of the people, by the people, and for the people has not perished from the Earth.

This is your victory.

And I know you didn't do this just to win an election. And I know you didn't do it for me.

You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime -- two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century.

Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us.

There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after the children fall asleep and wonder how they'll make the mortgage or pay their doctors' bills or save enough for their child's college education.

There's new energy to harness, new jobs to be created, new schools to build, and threats to meet, alliances to repair.

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even in one term. But, America, I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there.

I promise you, we as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won't agree with every decision or policy I make as president. And we know the government can't solve every problem.

But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And, above all, I will ask you to join in the work of remaking this nation, the only way it's been done in America for 221 years -- block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.

What began 21 months ago in the depths of winter cannot end on this autumn night.

This victory alone is not the change we seek. It is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were.

It can't happen without you, without a new spirit of service, a new spirit of sacrifice.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility, where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves but each other.

Let us remember that, if this financial crisis taught us anything, it's that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers.

In this country, we rise or fall as one nation, as one people. Let's resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long.

Let's remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House, a party founded on the values of self-reliance and individual liberty and national unity.

Those are values that we all share. And while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress.

As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, we are not enemies but friends. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.

And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices. I need your help. And I will be your president, too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces, to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of the world, our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand.

To those -- to those who would tear the world down: We will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security: We support you. And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright: Tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope.

That's the true genius of America: that America can change. Our union can be perfected. What we've already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that's on my mind tonight's about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. She's a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing: Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn't vote for two reasons -- because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that she's seen throughout her century in America -- the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we can't, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.

At a time when women's voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.

When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs, a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that "We Shall Overcome." Yes we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination.

And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change.

Yes we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves -- if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment.

This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubts and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can.

Thank you. God bless you. And may God bless the United States of America

Congressman Murtha Defeats Russell

2008-11-05T09:20:00.000-08:00

Jack Murtha defeated Bill Russell--no, not that Bill Russell-- handily in their congressional race last night, a surprise to many of us who have been watching that race with interest. The surprise was not that he won, but that he won by a wide margin.

Murtha gained the ire of a lot of people two years ago with his scathing criticism of US Marines in the Haditha Incident. He has subsequently been sued by one of those Marines. The comments also drew the attention of Republican Party operatives, who rightly saw them as a possible breach in the popular 17-term congressman's formidable popularity. Accounts vary as to whether Russell was recruited for the task, or was drawn to Pennsylvania on his own volition.

It's been an interesting race. Still on active duty when he declared his intent to run for the seat, Russell was not permitted to campaign until his retirement. In the meantime, he suffered a setback by failing to obtain the necessary signatures to qualify for the primaries, an admitted learning experience that forced him to campaign in the general election as a write-in candidate, albeit a write-in candidate with strong support from the national party.

Perhaps bored (wink, wink) with his repeated victories over a parade of weak and weird opponents in recent years, Murtha inexplicably leveled the playing field by questioning Presidential candidate Barack Obama's chances in rural, southwestern Pennsylvania by observing that it is "a racist area." A short while later, in attempting to explain his statements, he brandished the word "redneck." The comments made national news, energized support for the Russell candidacy, and titillated many a big-league right-wing blogger and commentator; and rightfully so. The remarks were an incredibly stupid, potentially devastating gaff for such an experienced politician. Observers were right in wondering if the 76-year old veteran of Viet Nam and Korea might be losing his edge.

It undoubtedly surprised a lot of folks when Murtha prevailed with more than 58% of the vote--not quite his customary landslide, but still a respectable margin. If you were one of them, consider this: Murtha stands among Congress' most senior members, and as such he is particularly efficient in serving both the state and his district. Simply put, he gets things done, and he brings home the bacon--or pork, if you prefer. Secondly, we're an insular bunch here, and questions about Russell's residency clearly resounded with a lot of folks I talked with. As a retiring army officer, we're glad to have him move to Westsylvania--the more the merrier--but rumors persisted that Russell had simply taken an apartment in Johnstown while maintaining his family residence in Alexandria, VA as his home of record. Murtha, a lot people reasoned, is unquestionably one of us--and it hasn't hurt that just about anyone who has been here for more than a decade knows someone who owes their job to Murtha's efforts. Pork tastes good when you're hungry.

Finally, however offensive Murtha's remarks might seem, there is a kernel of truth to them. In the very recent past, crosses have been burned with a half-hour of my home--rare and disgusting acts limited, fortunately, to a minority fringe element of cowardly idiots, but still....

Western Pennsylvania is not "the East Coast" or even the Mid-Atlantic. This is a very rural, very Appalachian region, with isolated areas of high illiteracy rates and poverty. More often than I care to admit, our proud traditionalism is manifested in an almost willfully confrontational backwardness. We are obstinate that way, and we can be contrary. There may be things that we know shouldn't be done, things that just aren't right, but we'll be damned if we let someone tell us not to do them. We see it all the time, in our neighbors, our family (how many of us have a crusty "Uncle Joe" who throws the N-word around with impunity?), and we let it slide because we know that deep down they may be jerks (sorry, Uncle Joe), but they are not hateful bigots. We know--at least, those of us brave enough for introspection know--that when Murtha called this "a racist area" he meant that there is still a lot of latent racism here, and as much as we wanted to be offended the indignation just didn't quite stick. That doesn't excuse his words, which lacked both tact and subtlety, but maybe it puts them in a little better perspective.

Colonel Russell seems like a decent man, despite his firm adherence to to a number of political stances to which Oakleafmold is diametrically opposed. Reason states that, given time to prepare and distance to process lessons learned, he could be a formidable candidate should the two have a rematch. Murtha isn't getting any younger. It will be interesting to see if Russell actually buys a house, moves his family here, sets roots in a local community, and commits the region for the long term.

Listening To: a mix of tunes by The Avett Brothers

Best Bread Commercial Ever

2008-09-26T04:52:00.001-07:00

New Hovis Advert In Full HD Stereo - Sept 2008

It's Time To Reconsider "The Bird"

2008-09-19T13:05:00.000-07:00

Several accounts of Pittsburgh Steelers linebacker and team captain James Farrior using his upraised middle finger to express himself to some particularly vile Cleveland Browns fans last weekend showed up in my newsreader under the headline "Steelers' Farrior fined $7500 for obscene gesture." I won't defend the action--it was an unquestionably boneheaded move for Farrior to allow the cellar-dwelling "dawgs" to get under his skin. That said, I'm not sure that "The Bird" really qualifies as obscene, at least as it's defined here.

It's certainly rude, like burping in church. Situationally defiant (see the Blessed Leader of The Free World, above.) Definitely coarse. Ill-mannered. Offensive, even; but obscene? That seems a bit sensitive and reactionary. Obscene, in my mind, is more along the lines of pants dropped inappropriately, public masturbation, or pineapples on pizza. Granted, there is --to borrow, obliquely, from The Persuaders--a thin line between rude and foul, but I'm here today to say that line needs to be trod respectfully.

I stole the above photo from the delightful grrrls at G-Spot Magazine
http://gspotmagazine.blogspot.com/2007/07/bush-ignores-subpeonas-for-white-house.html

Also of interest:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_bird

Appalachian State University is HOT HOT HOT

2008-08-15T19:59:00.001-07:00

Unintentional Humor Is The Best Humor. Thanks to Mike for pointing this one out. Hot Hot Hot

Idiom Lesson For French Swimmers

2008-08-12T05:45:00.000-07:00

In America we have an expression, "Don't let your mouth write a check your ass can't cash." They must not have that in France. Alain "Big Choke" Bernard et. al. might want to add it to the lexicon francaise as quickly as possible, as soon as they get his foot out of his mouth.

http://www.kansascity.com/449/story/742631.html

Listening To:

Cowboy Junkies "Early 21st Century Blues"

Edwards Breaks My Heart, Too

2008-08-11T05:56:00.000-07:00

Johnny boy, I believed in you. I watched you on Charlie Rose and I bought in. I was moved. Inspired, even. And now I discover that you couldn't keep it zipped up for a halfwit bottle blonde, even when you knew--YOU KNEW--that the media would kill you for it when, not if but when, you were outed. I never that I would say this, but thank the gods you didn't win the nomination, because if you had, the Democrats' hopes for the election would have been destroyed and we would face 4 more years of certain darkness.

R.I.P. Bernie Mac

2008-08-10T05:46:00.000-07:00

There aren't too many celebrities worth celebrating, but the untimely passing of comedian Bernie Mac strikes a deep and resounding chord. Though I only recently became familiar with his work, through his hilarious and soulful television show, he quickly became one of the few comedians who consistently made me laugh AND think. That he could do so on television, in family friendly format, is astounding. From what I've read, it seems he was a hell of a guy, too. I'll miss him staring out from the TV, shaking his head, and saying "Now America...." He is nicely eulogized here:

http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/chi-bernie-mac-dead,0,995933.story

Apple Assholes

2008-07-28T18:58:00.001-07:00

It's not enough that iTunes generates another lengthy update every damn time I turn on the computer, now I get the message below. Now, I have to uninstall quicktime, go to the stupid-assed quicktime website, download it, and install the whole freaking thing again. I know, it's really no big deal, but come on. This is APPLE, the Taco Bell of the Computer World. They're big time. And yes, I know, lots of folks genuflect at the mere mention of Apple/Mac et. al. but it drives me nuts. Make a stupid program that works for more than a minute or two (hint: test it before you release v.456.8998903). I want to get on the internet, check my mail, read the news, listen to some tunes, and get the hell away from the monitor. Maybe hire a few more folks from India--the ones I talk to one the phone are sharp as tacks. I mean it. The Californians writing code just ain't getting the job done.

You may see an error message when attempting to open iTunes 7.7 or later stating that "iTunes cannot run because it detects a problem with QuickTime."

If this issue occurs with iTunes 7.0.2 - 7.6, customers may instead see this error message:

"iTunes cannot run because it has detected a problem with your audio configuration"

If this occurs with iTunes 7.0 or 7.0.1, customers may instead see a -200 error when opening iTunes 7.

Products AffectediTunes 7 for Windows, QuickTime for Windows

Resolution

QuickTime may need to be reinstalled. Follow the steps below to uninstall QuickTime and then download and install QuickTime using the QuickTime standalone Installer.

Mayor Bloomberg's Last Word On The First Amendment

2008-07-28T18:50:00.001-07:00

This is old, old news, but I somehow missed this when it happened. Definitely a keeper for the "Quotes" column.

Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg told a group of volunteers who plan to toil at the Republican National Convention yesterday that he expected most protesters who come to the event later this month would ''be reasonable,'' but he warned that ''if we start to abuse our privileges, then we lose them.''

http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9C01E7DE103FF934A2575BC0A9629C8B63

Listening To: Meat Purveyors Someday Soon Things Will Be Much Worse

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008)

2008-06-27T07:49:00.001-07:00

I recently received a link to this irresistible video from a friend. It's worth your time to click on the video and go to YouTube, where you can click on the "high quality" tab and see all the people and places in vibrant color and detail.

The Anti-Cicumcision Protest: A Picture Truly Worth A Thousand Words

2008-04-30T07:29:00.000-07:00

Check out the protester. That's one (emphasis on one) pissed off old lady.

http://farm1.static.flickr.com/182/469422914_d044dbd399.jpg?v=0

Quote of The...er...Every So Often

2008-04-30T06:17:00.000-07:00

As our circle of knowledge expands, so does the circumference of darkness surrounding it.

--Albert Einstein

Listening To:
Tom T. Hall--I Like Beer
Meat Purveyors--More Man (which is just damn awesome music)

Don Frederick is Better Than Us

2008-04-22T04:49:00.001-07:00

LA Times journalist, editor and blogger Don Frederick is not just a literary triple threat, he is superior to us denizens of the hinterlands is virtually every quantifiable way. I envy the satisfaction and delight he gathers from observing us as we sip just a taste of that nectar: "relevance," to which he has obviously grown so accustomed. It must be very rewarding indeed, to write for a city in which you might, at any hour of the day, have a chance of bumping into Glenn Close or that guy who played the father on that show that was just like the other show with Michael J. Fox as a teen yuppie. It must be wonderful to matter.

As Pennsylvania Yields The Spotlight, How Badly Will It Want it Back?

And of course I had to retort, with all the juvenile wit and tenderness I could muster. I expect they won't print my little missive, but I'm curious to see if they correct the spelling error.

Dear Don Frederick, please put down your decaf half-fat mocha latte and understand that Los Angeles is not the center of the world, and that Pennsylvanians (nor the residents of any of the other states you mock) are not generally over-inflated from our fling with electoral excess. Lock Haven is a bustling college town, Moon is a populous and prosperous suburb of Pittsburgh. Do you just sit around your office in stained boxer shorts scratching your testicles and pulling names from maps? Oh, wait--it's spelled Connellsville--two Ls--so that can't be possible, you condescending twit. It must be quite satisfying, and not a little amusing, to look down from your lofty locus in LA LA land and see the rest of the nation struggling to find some tiny, bitter sense of significance in the shadow of our superiors. Clearly, you put as much time into thinking about what you say as you put into spelling it. And not to be petty, but whatever you're spending on those haircuts, it's too much.

Michelle Malkin's Incisive Political Analysis

2008-04-10T11:09:00.001-07:00

feeding the fantasies of adolescent neocons

Malkin Promotes Absolut Vodka--Sales Triple

2008-04-10T08:07:00.000-07:00

I marvel that a growing number of writers have found ways to make a good living in the blogosphere. As someone who keeps a very small, barely read little page for his own amusement, I hadn't really given any thought to profit potential. I have been particularly impressed of late with right-wing blogtress Michelle Malkin. She and her husband operate an articulate and prolific blog, consistently generating a considerable amount of content day after day, week after week, and that's no easy feat. Writing at that volume is a challenge almost as difficult as being President. You can't just slip off to your summer home, or your other summer home, or your Presidential Retreat. When bloggers go absent, people notice. Educated, outspoken, deeply reactionary, and a total hottie, Malkin has all the tools for Internet stardom. With Anne Coulter sliding further and further into self-parody, Malkin is poised to become the prettiest face you love to hate. Now it seems she has scored some sort of blockbuster deal to promote Absolut vodka.

It's brilliant, really. Absolut recently unveiled an ad featuring an 1840's era map along with the slogan "in an Absolut world" as part of it's Mexican marketing campaign. At first glance, the campaign is anything but spectacular--it's just a map, and a slogan. It's hardly visionary, but it struck a cord with the hyper-paranoid right wing set, with Malkin immediately jumping to the forefront, charging it as a challenge to American sovereignty and an insult to every man, woman, and child. Plenty of other right-side bloggers, none of whom I care to promote here, have jumped on the bandwagon, urging boycotts (the USA equivalent to a "fatwa"), insinuating revolutionary agendas, and insulting the mothers of Absolut's Nordic corporate kingpins. It's an involuntary take on viral marketing, and it's genius.

Absolut, and it's Mexico City based advertisers must be pleased as pie. Malkin's audience, notoriously terrified of immigrants, was whipped into a frenzy, spreading the word far and wide, to the point where I'm commenting on it from rural Pennsylvania, where my access to Mexican print ads would otherwise be somewhat limited. They have clearly learned from the examples of previous protests and product boycotts, which primarily serve to promote the product in question. In short, Absolut is soaking up a lot of attention thanks to Malkin & Associates, all at the cost of a few hundred grumpy emails from conservatives who wouldn't be buying trendy vodka anyway. Now, if Budweiser ran this sort of ad, or McDonald's, then the righties might have some leverage, but Absolut isn't going to give two damns--until people calm down.

It's a great set-up. Everybody wins. Absolute gets free advertising and Malkin's spittin' mad hordes of self-proclaimed patriots keep her traffic, and thus her own advertising income, high and mighty.

God Bless America.

Listening To:

John Shipe Trio: A Stealthy Portion
http://www.johnshipe.com/AStealthyPortion.tpl

Girls Of Our Dreams--Vol. 1

2008-04-07T05:00:00.000-07:00

Whether or not this compelling new Oakleaf Mold feature continues remains to be seen. I liked this picture, however, and needed a context to legitimize it's inclusion here.

I found it here, via the ffffound blog, courtesy of a blog that lifted it from Vogue Italia (a source I never, ever would have expected to cite when I began this narcissism I call Oakleaf Mold.)

Link To ffffound.com

Lame Duck Crazy w/Machine Gun

2008-04-04T09:42:00.000-07:00

Vice-President Dick Cheney, at this point, must surely recognize the failure of the Bush Administration's blood-soaked and oil-stained policies, no matter how stubbornly he continues to say otherwise. Clearly, his intent now is to salvage whatever his can from the Bush/Cheney legacy, regardless of the people's will. I suspect this surprises no one. In a way, I almost pity the nasty old man. The strain of discovering that one cannot alter or influence events simply by wishing it so must be incredible. Remember that debate in which Lil George declared--22 times!--what "hard work" it is to be President (po' Lil George!)? It's harder still for delusion "non-reality-based" politicians to get hit square in forehead by Reality itself.

Cheney is a tough cookie. This is a guy with more mechanical devices in his chest than The Terminator, and who gleefully shoots his friends for sport. It's no surprise to me that, when faced with the grim news of the peoples' quickly eroding support, he scoffs in disdain. He knows he's going down, and he's bound and determined to take as much with him as he can, while leaving as little as possible.

Dick Cheney may love America, but he hates Americans. Witness this exchange I found on ABC News

CHENEY: On the security front, I think there's a general consensus that we've made major progress, that the surge has worked. That’s been a major success.

MARTHA RADDATZ: Two-third of Americans say it’s not worth fighting.

CHENEY: So?

RADDATZ: So? You don’t care what the American people think?

CHENEY: No. I think you cannot be blown off course by the fluctuations in the public opinion polls.

RADDATZ: You really don't care about the will of the American People?

CHENEY: No. Fuck them. What do they know? Nothing. I'm the one that knows things. In fact, I know a lot. Assholes. I'll kill 'em all. Let God sort 'em out.

Okay, so I added the last exchange, but here's a link to the story

Listening To:

Singing "Gorgeous Tiny Chicken Machine Show Theme" to myself.
Can't get it out of my head.

Gorgeous Tiny Chicken Machine Show (Episode 1)

2008-04-03T12:05:00.001-07:00

Yay!

Quote of The Week #...way behind

2008-04-03T11:43:00.000-07:00

"Why is Chelsea Clinton so ugly?
Because her father is Janet Reno."

John McCain, family values Republican, 1998
at the time, Ms. Clinton was 17 years old

http://www.salon.com/news/1998/06/25newsb.html
http://www.attytood.com/2008/02/the_worst_thing_thats_ever_bee_1.html

Listening To:

The Stranglers: Walk On By

vox vocis fletus obvius torva

2008-04-02T10:42:00.000-07:00

I've noticed a few people reading these pages. People who aren't indulgent or sympathetic friends and relatives. Cool. The addition of readers to The World's Most Widely Unread Blog heralds an advance into unexplored wilderness.

If this keeps up I might have to start wasting time on luxuries like spellchecks, proofreading, and second drafts. So, who are you? Where did you come from?

Listening To:

Ack Ack: Can't Accept It

Pizza Hut Salad Bar Discontinued--An Outrage!

2008-03-27T09:37:00.000-07:00

I like good pizza--"real pizza"--thin, but not too thin, crust that's a little crispy on the bottom, but still supple, and not any damned whole wheat crust, either, followed by a simple, tangy (never sweet) tomato sauce, and generous quantities of just about any toppings but fish, pineapple, or artichokes. I have my reasons: I simply don't like anchovies, artichokes on pizza are pretentious (especially since all the flavor bakes out of them), and pineapple, while delightful in most cases is, on pizza, Just Plain Wrong.

Now, a confession: I also (shamefully, secretly) like Pizza Hut Pan Pizza.

Supreme.

When we lived in Oregon, home of the soggy "take and bake" pie, and where Pineapple Pizza runs rampant and free, the closest good pizza we found was in San Francisco, a solid 8 hour drive away. In that environment, Pizza Hut was a blessing, a beacon, a life preserver.

It's a regional thing. Great asian food abounded, superb Mex options were everywhere; but, just to offer an example, when the Olive Garden opened in Eugene the lines stretched out into the parking lot, folks raved and exclaimed: FINALLY good Italian had come to Lane County. I recall my wife and I staring at each other, dumbfounded.

Olive Garden? Really? Here in Westsylvania, Olive Garden is one small step up from Strip Mall Food. Think Bob Evans or Denny's.

In Oregon, we even found ourselves at Little Caesars once or twice. I kid you not. But it was Pizza Hut that saved us then, and until very recently it's been Pizza Hut that regularly spared us from faster food joints along the interstates. Pizza Hut trumps McDonalds every time. You pull off the highway, see that bizarrely paradoxical pizza pagoda roofline, and sigh in relief--no greasy burger for you, fatboy, there's hot pizza and a big pile of salad from the............

SSSCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!

Wait a minute! Last weekend, desperately hungry and on the way home from a pleasant day spent perusing the GIANT HEAD exhibit at the Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh, we rolled into a Pizza Hut in Blairsville, PA and discovered, to our shock, NO MORE SALAD BAR! Not one to be discouraged, I made a "pfft!" sound at the clerk, and led my family back to the road. Two more stops at two more Pizza Huts, both in Indiana, PA, rendered the same result: No salad. At one, a little bleach-blonde held up a pitiful bowl of iceberg "You can get a side salad!" She offered breezily. I muttered something inappropriate and stalked away.

At the last place, where S. 7th Street meets Wayne, a sullen little man said, "We have KFC."

Holy non-sequitur, Batman! "What?" I asked.

"Kentucky. Fried. Chicken." He spoke very slowly and loudly, presuming (I suppose) I was either hard of hearing or developmentally impaired.

"Why. No. Salad?" I replied, considering his presumptions might be relative to his personal experience.

"Uh, I guess we just didn't have a need for one anymore." It was a straight answer, and in retrospect I appreciate it, but it didn't stop me from being an ass and mocking him, of course.

"Uh, I guess we just don't have a need to come here anymore." I said.

"Okay," He shrugged. He truly didn't give a shit, and I don't blame him, given what these places pay. Still, I was deeply disappointed. I enjoyed going to Pizza Hut, but the pizza by itself isn't good enough to lure me in. I guess we're done with it.

Listening To:

Veruca Salt: Seether
Lurkers: Cyanide
Allman Brothers: Mountain Jam

Nancy Pelosi is Kinda Hot

2008-03-13T11:45:00.000-07:00

I was watching her on Charlie Rose the other night, and it occurred to me that despite being a couple of years older than my mom, The Speaker is, well, kinda hot. It shook me. It's not like she's Segolene Royal. I've never gone in for pearls and Armani. I realized immediately that this is the kind of thing I shouldn't talk about too much, or at all, but this afternoon I indulged in a bit of whimsy and googled "nancy pelosi is hot." I discovered that I'm not alone, either in my appreciation or my acute discomfort with said appreciation. Indeed, while not quite in the vanguard, I've obviously been swept up in what can only be described as a groundswell of Nancy-lust.

Maybe this means it's time to face the fact that I'm a quickly-aging, doughy white guy, like Mike Palecek over at Pacific Views. (I don't know if Mike is doughy or white but, like me, he's conscious of time's winged chariot drawing nearer, as the saying goes.)

On the other hand, I found a blog written by a young, seemingly cool, college-age black guy and guess what--he's got a case of the Pelosisitis just like me.

And it's not just men. Jon Anne of Vital Source Magazine admits to "fevered dreams" featuring our fair Speaker

According to Thehill.com, Ms. Pelosi is no less than #4 out of The 50 Most Beautiful People on Capital Hill--and the 46 folks who come after her on that list aren't exactly chopped beef. They even managed to root up a few good looking Republicans. A fellow name Tim Hollis seems to share my appraisal as well as my disagreement with some disappointing Pelosi sell-outs, particularly her adamant stand against impeachment, and it appears I'm way behind The Pure Investor, who voiced his, er, appreciation way back in 2006.

I tried to order a copy of Nancy Pelosi's Pilates Workout DVD (soft core political porn?)but it seems to be sold out. Damn!

According to a couple of the blogs and articles I found, there is a facebook group (support group) for folks with my particular affliction, but I don't have a facebook account and will leave it to you, gentle readers, to research that one.

Listening To:
Neko Case: Blacklisted

Jill Sobule's Fan-Financed Record

2008-02-19T09:31:00.000-08:00

Those familiar with the Oakleafmold homestead know that we're all honkin' crazy fans of folk/rock troubadoress Jill Sobule's hyper-witty, sing-a-long friendly music. We loved her when she "Kissed A Girl" and we love her at "Cinnamon Park." She's the coolest. She's not a vacant assembly-line machine-pressed pubescent pop tartlet, but a genuine, multi-talented musician who not only sings but writes her own songs and plays a wicked guitar. Over the past decade and a half (give or take) Jill has been contracted by a number of major record companies, but despite solid sales, her enthusiastic touring, and a dedicated (some would say fanatically so) core group of fans, she says she's never made a penny from her records. Undoubtably this has something to do with the same creative accounting movie studios employ in claiming half-billion dollar grosses as net losers.

Suffice it to say, a savvy chick like Jill knows a bad deal when she smells one, and as the saying goes: fool me once, shame on you, but fool me twice....

So, Jill is heading down a different road, soliciting contributions from her rabid fans that will be used to record at least one, and possibly two, new records. Speaking as one of those fans, I'm only too happy to send a check for the privilige of getting some new Jill tunes. Why not pay up front?

It's genius, and it's subversive.

Why give the big record companies, which have never come through for her, a cut of her income now that she's reached a place in her career where she has an established fan base and a guarantee of a least a minimum number of sales? Jill's a sure thing. The record companies: not so much. As we move well beyond the advent of digital music distribution, these corporations have become little more than banks, fronting the money to the talent and reaping loan-shark like returns. Add in a little marketing and that's that. The pimping is complete. Funny thing, though. The record companies are finding that they are no longer needed. Sales of actual, physical record albums in CD form are tanking. Downloads are cheaper and provide immediate gratification.

The album's webiste, http://www.jillsnextrecord.com/ is worth a look on it's own merits, as it is chock full of classic Sobule wit and self-effacing sarcasm. I encourage you to drop at least the entry-level donation of $10 which entitles you to a free download of the record once it is finished.

More links re: Jill's Next Record

http://www.herald-review.com/articles/2008/02/14/columnists/cain/1030093.txt

http://hollywoodinsider.ew.com/2008/01/singer-songwrit.html

http://link.brightcove.com/services/link/bcpid203719194/bctid1171886736

100 Greatest Christian Quotes

2008-02-06T06:55:00.001-08:00

This one sort of speaks for itself.

http://duggmirror.com/comedy/100_Greatest_Quotes_from_fundamentalist_christian_chat_rooms/

Pissy Liberals Playing With Matches

2008-02-05T08:11:00.000-08:00

I've noted, quite after the fact, that another crop of earnest, unwashed underclass rebels took time out from their busy days to torch tiny paper copies of Old Glory in the sun-dappled comfort of my alma mater's iconic Oak Grove. Groovy, right?

I mean, I guess you've got to go with whatever gets you off, but I find flag burning to be just about the least productive, most self-indulgent and ridiculous form of self-pleasuring protest possible. It accomplishes nothing beyond annoying people who neither care nor understand what you think and wouldn't change their minds even if they did. But it feels so good! Look how angry I am! See how revolutionary I feel! It's a ME ME ME sort of thing. Might as well jump up and down and wave a pair of pink pompoms. ME ME Gooooooooooooo ME!

Burning tiny little paper flag replicas, fresh out of the old HP printer, advances the comedy from the ridiculous to the absurd. We're talking protest and Monty Python skit. Reminds me of the 18" stonehenge in This Is Spinal Tap.

My comment in the university paper sums up the remainder of my sentiment (conveniently cut and pasted just ahead, mostly because it's a pretty paragraph that I like a lot). But I'm not merely trying to add some bulk to my blog, I'm gearing up (hear the grinding?) to include some thoughts on patriotism , protest, and participation in the democratic system and this seems as good a place to begin as any.

Oakleafmold posted 10/16/07 @ 12:37 PM EST

My view from the hard left: flag burning is a self-aggrandizing, unproductive burlesque that ultimately undermines whatever issue the action is intended to protest. It's the polemic equivalent of a toddler's tantrum. The irony of flag-burning is that the act itself reinforces the very ideals our flag is intended to represent. In burning our flag, one may be voicing his or her dissatisfaction or opposition, but he or she is likewise making a very profound demonstration of the the freedoms we are supposed to enjoy. Better to target our anger at those whose actions fail to live up to those ideals, who misuse the trust and power commended to them, than the symbol these despoilers stain.

Another new feature: an accounting of sounds. It's like having a soundtrack. An imaginary soundtrack for the Most Widely Unread Blog on the Web.

MUSIC WOT AM LISSENING TOO

Normal: T.V.O.D.
Blondie: I'm On E
Kleenex: Nice
Sex Pistols: Satellite
Lurkers: Total War
Damned: Fan Club

Quote of The Week # 3 February 2008

2008-02-04T08:04:00.001-08:00

Juno: I think I'm in love with you.
Bleeker: You mean, like, as friends?
Juno: No, I mean for real--because you're like the coolest person I've ever met and you don't really have to try, you know?
Bleeker: I try really hard actually.

--Ellen Page and Michael Cera in the film Juno, written by Diablo Cody.

Bodies: The Exhibition

2008-01-21T10:52:00.000-08:00

We took advantage of the first bone-chillingly cold weekend of our Westsylvanian winter to wander around Bodies: The Exhibition at the Carnegie Science Center in Pittsburgh. I had been reluctant to visit the exhibit, only deciding to accompany my wife and children at the very last moment. It's not that I'm weak-stomached, but rather that I suffer from a media-driven strain of hypochondria. Fortunately, it's not a paralyzing disorder, but it's enough to keep me from watching television shows like House, ER (not that I need a psychological reason to avoid that particular steaming pile) or similar medical melodrama. I just wasn't interested in traipsing about a room full of zombies, but I ultimately decided to go for the purpose of setting a good example of courage and curiosity for the kids. Also, it gave me an excuse to run out to Ikea, much a sticky bun, and marvel at all the brightly-colored plastic crap they're selling. (But it can't be crap, you argue, it's from Sweden!).

A mean old blonde employee, wearing glasses and a bitter sneer, spoke was rudely to my wife told me I couldn't take photos. I was afraid of her and obeyed, but this is a link to a bunch of pix from other folks who are braver than I am.

Turns out it wasn't such a big deal. The bodies themselves aren't any more gross or disturbing than the old plastic "visible man" model my mom put together in nursing school back in the sixties, and I loved those models and the organs you could take out and play with. Intestines, cool! Hours of fun. I even found it interesting for the first half hour or so. Unfortunately, the exhibit was very, very crowded--a surprise considering that it's been open for a few months now. On the other hand, this was a frigid Saturday afternoon and the Steelers are eliminated from the playoffs. Folks weren't tempted to romp outdoors, and the whole of Steeler Nation has probably been holding off on most cultural events until the season ended.

The crowds got to me, the elbows and people stepping on my feet, and after the first dozen display cases full of meat and bone it began to feel like more of the same. I start wanting to smack people in pushy crowds. That's bad. Then it occurred to me how much the preserved muscles looked like chicken. Stir-fried chicken. My stomach rumbled a little. Very bad. Cause for reflection bad, when one gets hungry in a room full of skinned, stuffed, and mounted Chinese guys. I told my kid that about the "corpse looks like chicken/I'm hungry" chain of association and she just laughed at me, which was very centering.

As the minutes passed, our pace quickened. I skipped the optional room full of still-born fetuses with birth defects and made for the door, daughters pleased as pie as we traversed a table loaded with sticky notes and pens that people could use to put comments on a wall. Lots of "cool" and "wow" quotes along with "How great is Our GOD!" scrawled in childlike script. Whatever. The only comment I could think of was that the whole experience left me with a sour aftertaste of hubris. Perhaps it's because I'm modestly educated and I've seen photos and illustrations of how bodies work before. Perhaps it's because I've watched deer and elk being field dressed with sharp knives and hack saws, and it's no surprise to me what's beneath the skin, but I couldn't help but dwell on this sense of "oh, how marvelous and complex we are" that I perceived, right or wrong, among the gawkers and tourists.

As we exited, however, I did manage to summon a little disgust. The exit to the exhibit hall had been arranged so that it dispersed people into the rear of the Science Center gift shop. In order to escape one was forced to march through table and racks full of cheesy "bodies" t-shirts, ghoulish pseudo-skulls, and all manner of plastic and rubber knick-knacks seemingly left over from a seasonal strip-mall Halloween bargain barn--just about the most cynical and shameful bit of commercialization I've seen, especially considering that the tix for this overblown house of half-horrors was $14.95 a head--er--a body.

Quote of The Week #2 January 2008

2008-01-21T10:45:00.000-08:00

“Reality is whatever refuses to go away when I stop believing in it.”

--Philip K. Dick

Now Available In Convenient 40lb. Sack

2008-01-18T12:00:00.001-08:00

Quote Of The Week #1 January 2008

2008-01-18T11:41:00.001-08:00

A new feature on "the mostly widely unread blog on the net," something I've decided to do, because I can: Quote of The Week. Anything is game. Quotes from real people, from literature or books, funny or stupid, inspiring or insipid. I'll start things on a positive note...

"Okay dad, let's do it. Let's go get the shit kicked out of us by love."
--Sam (Thomas Sangster), in the movie Love Actually.

Five Inches of Mud, Winning 3-0, Priceless

2007-11-27T06:38:00.000-08:00

The Steelers beat the Dolphins 3-0 last night on a gloriously muddy field, and MSNBC's Mike Celizic threw a Dick Cheney-scale tantrum this morning, calling it "a travesty of football and an insult to the NFL, the players, the fans, and anyone who turned on a television in the hopes of enjoying Monday Night Football." He went on the say, "It was a disgrace." What a wuss. What misplaced outrage. Football in the mud, I mean, how DARE they!

My response, as usual un-edited and unconsidered, primal-style (not):

Impossibly, Celizic's comments in this column are even more stupid than his stupid hat--that's a cheap shot, but cheap shots seem to be the theme of the day, and I feel better having had mine. I understand he needs to generate content if he wants to get paid, but the degree of his overwrought indignation is far beyond what the subject merits. There was a football game. It was muddy. Oh, gosh. Oh, dear, whatever shall we do? Pfffft.

I laud the Steelers for sticking with the traditional grass field--football games played by teams in clean uniforms on carpet are ugly, anticeptic affairs. There's a reason they call it "artificial." Like breast implants, Britney Spears, and recombinant bovine growth hormone, it just ain't right. The Steelers' righteous struggle with natural turf will probably fail--if Celizic did a little homework he would have discovered that the Rooneys are aggressively investigating various surfaces, and it's likely they'll have one installed for the 2008 season. Too bad.

Monday night's deluge was unusual even by the wild standards of western Pennsylvania's typically capricious (and lovely) autumn weather, and the timing was particularly bad given the previous weekend's full slate of high school football championships. Adding fresh sod was an ambitious and, contrary to a previous responder's assertions, expensive attempt to mediate this unfortunate collision of weather and events. It didnt' work. That's how it goes.

Celizic's hissy fit offers no answers, just whiney complaints. When my kids act like that I say, "What are you hoping to accomplish with this behavior?" That usually gives a nine-year old reason to pause and consider. Maybe when Celizic stops blubbering and catches his breath he'll find something that matters to be upset about? Maybe not.

"A Modern Spiritual?"

2007-09-26T09:22:00.001-07:00

Got to love this!

Question Authority? Zap!!

2007-09-18T10:07:00.000-07:00

A student at the University of Florida was taken down and out after asking John Kerry a question during a Kerry speech there. The guy wasn't overly polite, but he wasn't threatening either in word or posture. If anything, he was guilty of verbal diarrhea--it took him forever to get to his point. Apparently, the cops got tired of waiting, pulling him violently from the microphone, thrusting him to the floor and, after briefly taunting him, jolting him with 20-150,000 volts of juicy electrical goodness. Hmmm.

Let's forget, for the sake of brevity, that tasers have been a factor in at least 70 deaths in the USA.

The truly sad thing is that this outrageous behavior will be forgotten in a day or two--just like that kid at UCLA whom the campus police there tortured for not having his student ID with him.
Authoritarianism has become di rigeur in America, because "if you're not with us, you're against us." I shudder to think of the kind of the world my children will face.

The people in that audience should have risen to their feet and demanded professionalism from the UF Rent-A-Cops. Intelligent, well-trained, genuine law officers would have been able to mediate the situation without unnecessary violence. That kid simply wasn't a threat, either in words or posture. He was annoying, and he was defiant, but not violently so. But that is the lesson here, right? Don't ask uncomfortable questions. Don't backtalk to the man.

Students, faculty, and members of the Gainesville community should be rioting outside the jail and campus administration buildings until that kid is freed, his attackers disciplined, and steps taken to make certain this sort of thing doesn't happen again. It doesn't matter how annoying he was--being an ass isn't illegal(if it was Dick Cheney would be in irons).

It's okay to struggle against bullies. You or I could be next--and we will be, if we do nothing.

The Larry "Wide Stance" Craig Incident Report

2007-08-31T04:54:00.001-07:00

First we had Rick "Man On Dog" Santorum, now we've got Wide Stance Larry. You just can't make stuff like this up.

http://i.a.cnn.net/cnn/2007/images/08/28/craig.incident.report.pdf

Sen. Larry Craig (R-ID): Clinton

2007-08-30T05:02:00.001-07:00

Sounds like Larry likes it nasty, doesn't it?

Larry Craig Gets What He Asked For

2007-08-30T04:13:00.000-07:00

I'm assuming that, by the time I get around to blogging about something, everyone but a few pygmy warlords in New Guinea are familiar with the subject. I like to give things time to disseminate, but just in case you missed it here's Idaho Senator Larry Craig's story, nutshell version: according to a police report, as quoted in The Seattle Times, Craig hovered around an airport men's room then tried to score some nookie from an undercover cop. The cool thing is, we don't have to say "allegedly" because Craig pled guilty, though he maintains he didn't do it and the plea was just a means to resolve the uncomfortable situation quickly and efficiently.

Since the story broke, Craig has been spending more time denying that he is gay than he has denying the veracity of the charges. What's ironic is that it really doesn't matter whether Craig is gay or not. I'm guessing he's not, but that he might be, ummmm, omnivorous. Back in the early 1980's, in the heat of potential scandal focused on male officials having sexual relations with male congressional pages, Larry Craig was the first and only elected official to step forward and aggressively deny rumors. Odd thing about that: he had not been publicly named. His was a preemptive denial and, as the Bard might say, methinks he doth protest too much.

But back to the irony. For the past few eons Craig has maintained a zealously conservative political stance, pandering to the gun totin' mountain man/mama Idaho right. He's been a tireless advocate for the NRA agenda and against just about anything having to do with protecting the environment. He was vociferous in his objections to reintroducing previously exterminated species, such as the gray wolf, to their natural habitats, and has pushed for increases in destructive logging (opposed to selective, sustainable practices)and other extractive industry. He has also used his office to condemn and denounce homosexuals at every opportunity, resist all efforts to protect said folks from discrimination, and just generally behave like a big, ugly homophobe. The irony is not that I just called him big and ugly, when in reality he looks like a soft, balding, bespectacled dweeb. It's that he's now being taken out by the very same hateful, ignorant bigotry that he fed and encouraged for all this years. The phrase "fallen on his own sword" takes on an entirely new meaning with this guy.

And as a postscript, it's important to note how quickly and completely the Republican Party has turned on Senator Craig, it's denizens moving swiftly (swiftboatedly?) to strip the self-righteous Idahoan of his committee assignments with unprecedented haste and vigor. The calls for his resignation are deafening. It's hyena time, the ugly beasts turning on one of their own.

December Skies

2007-07-24T16:06:00.001-07:00

This fits right in with what I've been thinking/talking about.

Making It Easier To Remember

2007-07-24T15:45:00.000-07:00

Real Patriots CLICK HERE

Something about this list, categorized by state and town, that really brings home the impact of these lost lives, broken families, and unfulfilled dreams. I'm heartbroken, but I'm pissed off too. We don't deserve their bravery because we placed in power the corrupt and disingenuous administration who so blithely squandered their lives and trust.

2007-07-24T15:09:00.000-07:00

December Skies
(Michael Timmins)

September skies, bodies falling
Never again will you catch me admiring
those vast September skies.

October skies, hate is flying,
Crimson leaves slowly falling,
from azure October skies.

Time to kill our children
and sing about it.
Let's all kill our children
and sing about it.

November skies, heart is sinking.
No telling where they're leading
these grey November skies.

Time to kill our children
and sing about it.
Let's all kill our children
and sing about it.

December skies, star will be rising.
Will we heed those lessons ringing
through those dark December skies.

Time to kill our children
and sing about it.
Let's all kill our children
And sing about it.

The Ugliness That Is Imus

2007-04-11T05:02:00.000-07:00

Here's an letter I dashed off re: the Don Imus business, where he called the Rutgers' Womens Basketball team a bunch of "nappy-headed hos." Nothing particularly insightful or articulate here, just a quickly-written expression of my thoughts, so I'm on the record and back in the saddle here, so to speak.

I was looking at this guy and it occurs to me that it's a real shame, a REAL DAMN SHAME that it would be hypocritical to crack jokes about his face and hair in the process of criticizing his behavior. In any case, here are my thoughts:

Imus should be jettisoned and black-balled, and we should all ask ourselves: how would we feel if these were our daughters, singled out and attacked simply because they accomplished something significant? If it's obvious to a working-class white guy like me, it should be obvious to everyone. We can't live like this any more, and we shouldn't. When idiots like Imus single out our children--our nation's children--they demean not only the intended targets, but all of us. Because of Imus, we have been diminished. Maybe we'll grow from it, maybe not--either way, these young ladies have to live the rest of their lives with the understanding that their skin and and hair was reason enough for a national media figure to ridicule them, all for a little laugh.

I still like to say it....Buttafuoco

2006-01-23T09:56:00.000-08:00

It rolls off the tongue like melting crisco....

And this is why I love America.

I've Got A Feeling....Pittsburgh's Goin' To The Super Bowl

2006-01-23T06:55:00.000-08:00

The Oakleaf Mold family just got back in the door from cruising the mean streets of Indiana, PA. While my beautiful wife had the wheel, I'd been waving the 3' x 5' Steelers flag out the window of our big ol' Buick while my daughters twirled terrible towels from their child booster seats in the back. We're an hour north of the Steelermania epicenter, Pittsburgh's South Side, but our small college town was still proportionately crazy with delight.

We rolled up Philly Street--our "main drag"-- past the bars, through the IUP campus, down "frat row," honking at crowds of delirious, cheering fans on porches, on street corners, in front of bars and on their way home from parties (and, I presume, all manner of Churches, Temples, and other appropriate places of worship). Eruptions of cheers and shouts, hoots and hollers and boistrous applause greeted us every time anyone spotted the flag.

Folks in other cars honked back at us, passengers leaning out windows and cheering, snapping pictures. College kids ran out into the street to slap us high fives. Girls on the sidewalk, on porches, leaning out second-floor windows and in other cars shreiking gleefully and snapping pix with cell phone cameras, (what's with kids and the cell phone cameras? ) My wife said, "great, I'm going to end up on the internet looking like this," but heck, there were people out there in their pajamas, in face paint and black and gold clown wigs, everyone singing "I've got a feeling...." and "Here We Go Steelers..."

We even got a friendly wave from the cops, and why not? This isn't Morgantown. Nobody set their furniture on fire. (update: I spoke a week too soon!)

I laughed out loud when one member of a particularly boisterous gang of young men (ande you know who you are, on the corner of Wayne Ave. and Maple Street) pointed to our LeSabre and shouted "Man, that Dude's fuckin' old!" Yup, almost 40 and that "dude" stunned by my virtually necrotic form was in elementary school the last time we went to The Ball. This doesn't happen often. For some fans, it doesn't happen at all. Ever. (And for some fans it never will again, but let's not spoil this moment by talking about Baltimore.) It's taken us ten years to get back, and sixteen years before that.

Got to learn to savor it. In sixteen years I'll be nearing retirement, and that "dude" (not to be confused with THE Dude) will be...yup, almost 40.

My kids are going to remember this forever, and that's so durned cool.

Whoo, that's what it's all about...it's more than football, it's COMMUNITY!

PS...after the Steelers win the Superbowl the IUP women's hoop team is going to take the PSAC. Oh, yeah.

(This here is expanded from a post I made to the blessed Steeler List, the internet's best and longest-running Pittsburgh Steelers discussion--and quite possibly the best online hangout for fans of any sports. What's read here today the sportswriters won't get to until tomorrow.)

Blog To Be Re-Named Oakleaf Sex Mold

2005-12-05T10:04:00.000-08:00

I'm not getting any traffic. Traffic, I've learned, is people, readers, de-vo-tees, fans, detractors, enemies, rubberneckers. Now this could be due to my only post in months being about cupcakes, but I suspect a deeper implication.

My blog is not racy enough, and I don't mean it needs a number on the side and a stripe down the hood. Thus, we arrive (damn, missed on opportunity for the gratuitious use of "come") at Oakleaf Sex Mold. In this, the first installment, I'm going to tell you what I like and why I like it. You might want to open a window.....

Okay, not really; but it's an experiment of sorts. If I make the following list, will my hits go up?

Sex on wry. With Cheese.
Hot babes.
All Girl Action.
Cunnilingus is a word for smart people.
Lesbians on parade.
MILF
Lingerie
Horny.

In the future, please forgive me for entries like this, but I man has to do what a man has to do.

Bulbous Thoughts

2005-12-05T09:48:00.000-08:00

While cosidering all the subjects I've neglected during the "hiatus," I venture back with this thought: while thumbing through glossy catalogs and newspaper inserts I've noticed the prevelance of retailers touting their holiday lights, pre-lit holiday trees, fixtures, and so forth "When one bulb goes out the rest stay lit." They're conceding that this $6.47 heirloom-in-waiting is going to fail, probably sooner rather than later. So, basically, they're saying this: This tangle of plastic will certainly let you down, but at least it would break all at once. A few lights this year, a few next, and a whole herd of 'em the third year--and gods help you if you try to fix those burned out bulbs. You'll ruin the whole set.

Why not make bulbs that last?

See you soon.

Dough Nuts?

2005-07-16T07:21:00.000-07:00

Doughnuts, popovers, honeybuns, cinnamon rolls and all those sweet things: fine for breakfast.

Hostess Ho-Hos, Ding Dongs, Lemon Cupcakes and so forth: horrible.

Why? You've got your sugar, your shortening, some flour and eggs and more sugar in all of them, so what's the difference?

It's for questions like this that I'm drawn to the 'net.

We Shouldn't Know Terry Schiavo

2005-03-23T07:49:00.000-08:00

I cannot begin to comprehend the magnitude of the situation in which those who love Terri Schiavo are enmeshed. I hope that I never will. More importantly, I hope that my wife and children never will. The question of severing that final strand between what was and what is, while taunted by the diaphanous hope of what might yet be, is probably the most difficult question any human could possibly face. The fate of a wife...a daughter....

My heart aches for these people, yet I am troubled that I--and much of America, including our government--have been drawn, as both voyeurs and interlopers, into what should be a very private, and very solemn, set of moments. I should not know Terry Schiavo's name. Her misery, her unfortunate story, is none of my business. Nor yours.

A friend of mine argues that the family brought this on themselves, taking their struggle to the courts and courting the media to stir up public support in one direction or the other. To some extent, this is true, but I can't really blame them for grasping at any possibility in what will certainly prove to be the defining moments of each of their lives.

I do, on the other hand, wish shame upon the politicians from both sides of the aisle who have leapt up to join the fray, particularly our beloved President and his Republican puppeteers. Are these not the same people who for so long have been shouting about getting government out of people's lives? It's impressive, of course, that 260 representatives turned up to vote on this issue, what with Easter break looming and the perils of steroid abuse in Major League Baseball haunting our collective consciousness, but I find their motives questionable.

In a statement, Bush said,"Today, I signed into law a bill that will allow Federal courts to hear a claim by or on behalf of Terri Schiavo for violation of her rights relating to the withholding or withdrawal of food, fluids, or medical treatment necessary to sustain her life. In cases like this one, where there are serious questions and substantial doubts, our society, our laws, and our courts should have a presumption in favor of life."

On the other hand, ironically enough, it has not been so long since, in 1999, Texas Gubna George Bush endorsed "The Advanced Directives Act," which among other things allows a hospital to discontinue life support DESPITE THE WISHES OF THAT PATIENT OR HIS OR HER FAMILY if they can't pay.

So, perhaps Bush should have said, "In cases like this one, where there are serious questions and substantial doubts, our society, our laws, and our courts should have a presumption in favor of life...UNLESS IT INVOLVES POOR PEOPLE, in which case, screw 'em. Pull the plug."

But it has always been this way with these modern Republicans. Remember back when Newt GinGrinch was still relevant, spouting left and right...well, spouting right and righter...about getting rid of big government with all that Contract With/On? America nonsense? Even while he was touting the elimination of "big government," Newt was busily suggesting that it would be favorable to place children of single mothers in (presumably state- or federally-controlled) orphanages. I took that one personally, though Newt never explained how the retreat of my adulterous, abusive father compromised my mother's parenting skills. See, that's how it is. Republicans don't want big government interfering with economics, so things like insurance reform and pollution control are bad. Limiting media corporations from establishing monopolies are big, bad government, but arbitrarily censoring content is good good good. Big government is bad when it interferes with profits for the wealthy majority to which the republicans are beholden, but it is good...righteous, even...as a tool to dictate morality through legislation.

George Bush did not hesitate to execute 152 individuals as Gubna of Texas. Indeed, on occasion this man of great character found his killings a source of equally great hilarity. He's a funny guy, that Dubya. Life of the party. He is desperate to save Terri Schiavo, of course...and he will remain so right up until the time her insurance company decides he should believe differently.

Republicans Screw ANWR --Santa Next, Says Santorum

2005-03-17T06:43:00.000-08:00

Pennsylvania Junior Senator Rick Santorum danced a gleeful jig on the Senate floor yesterday in the wake of the Republican majority's narrow victory in opening the pristine Arctic National Wildlife Preserve to oil exploration. He paused only briefly, wiggling his flaccid hips suggestively towards Sen. Maria Cantwell D-WA., who had led minority opposition to the scheme. "Come back if you want to ride again," he leered, before turning to greet reporters.

"We slipped it into the budget, and we didn't even have to get it drunk first," the giddy Santorum orated. "Those heathen tree-huggers didn't have a chance. The Sierra Club, the Natural Resources Defense Council, we need to be honest: these pagan sodomites can't pony up the big dollars, not like the oil companies can, and that's the way it is. You got to pay to play."

Pressed to address the considerable fears of ecological devastation in the delicate arctic zone, Santorum shook his head reprovingly. "The only thing up there is caribou," he said. "And there's another word for caribou: reindeer; and we all know one thing about reindeer. They're an abomination against traditional American values. They wander around; they travel in herds and practice polygamy. The biggest male reindeer can have...you know, relations...with dozens of females in a single season. I have only ever done...you know, it, with one female...so it's hardly fair, er, moral.

"And Santa Claus," Santorum continued bitterly, jabbing a finger towards cameras as his face flushed. "You can kiss my atrophied ass, you fat fucker. Who's laughing now? Ha! Who's the bad boy now?”

“Lump of fucking coal!" He grumbled, then composed himself and nodded solemnly. “Santa hates freedom. That workshop is a dictatorship, regardless of their claims of collective autonomy. The American people know propaganda when they see it. The elves are virtually slaves, subject to Big Fatty's every whim. Once we get the Arctic properly excavated, we'll address the issue of regime change in the North Pole."

Lightening Up

2005-01-14T07:19:00.000-08:00

My dedicated readers (both of them) are unanimous in their entreaties that I write more on less serious topics. They have suggested that I don't have to wait until the planets Anger and Inspiration align for me to make a post. I'm not entirely convinced. On the other hand, I'm angry nearly most of the time. So maybe I just need to fake the inspiration part? Would anyone notice?

Here's something. I dreamed last night that I won the lottery, so today I spent two dollars on two impulsive chances to win $14 million. Of course, I also dreamed that alien invaders were using hoses attached to giant floating platforms and seeding the atmosphere with some sort of transmugenic toxin. They looked like wee firemen up there, and whatever they were spraying fell on us...my wife and I...in our cage!...as a fine, spring-scented mist. I don't know what was our intended post-mutation form. The dog woke me, needing to pee at 5am, whining and licking my face.

I'm hoping to be proven only HALF prophetic.

In the interest of lightening up, here's a blog I found that should bring solace to a great many folks. If you think your life is miserable, read about The Good Husband and count your blessings. Read from the 2004 archives like a cheap novel, it's a first person account of sex and denial within the context of a marital train-wreck that even the blindest switchman can see coming from several miles distance.

Propagandized

2005-01-14T05:05:00.000-08:00

Without any offficial announcement, the US Government recently halted it's hundreds-of-millions dollar search for Weapons of Mass Destruction. Big surprise. I suppose it's a good thing, since we've been spending all that time and money on an effort that didn't turn up so much as a sniff. Of course, finding WMD was never the point of this search. The real purpose of this process was to justify the Bush Administration's Iraqi Adventure, and in that regard the search has been a complete success. Even at this late date, as many as 40% of the American people believe that Iraq has these weapons. Amazing.

Fortunately, I've found where the biological weapons are being kept. It required a grueling 20-second Google search, but I'm a patriot and I'll do what I must for my country.

I found the Nuclear Weapons, with some help from Greenpeace.

So, read this report and then do your patriotic duty. Spread the word.Walk up to someone on the street and say "Hi, did you know that there are no Weapons of Mass Destruction in Iraq?"

Methodists Shame Jesus, Lie on Website

2004-12-03T08:03:00.000-08:00

The Methodist Church has voted to defrock a lesbian minister over on the other, dark side of the state, suburban Philadelphia (or West Jersey, as us Penn's Woods folks like to call it). Shame on them.

When I started this blog, I sure didn't expect to get on this recurring theme of the conservative War On Homosexuals, but it's a continual outrage against which I'm compelled to speak. I'm a straight, married father of two, a pick-up driving manual laborer, just to make things clear. I don't have any personal motive here, or do I? The America my republican family taught me to believe in is a land of fairness and inclusion, a land where the people are strong and thoughtful enough to not allow irrational fears to lead us on witch hunts and inquisitions. Maybe if I hadn't been taught to expect so much, I wouldn't be so angry. But I was, and I am.

I was baptised in the United Methodist Church, raised there, worshipped there, confirmed there. Much of what folks call my "liberalism" has it's roots in the education I received in sunday school and sermons. Jesus loved everyone, whores and lepers, even the tax collector (hey, Zach-baby, get down from that tree!). He didn't like the money-changers much, but I bet he forgave them. I'm pretty sure Jesus was a liberal, and I bet he was pro-union...but I digress.

I looked up the UMC website and found this little hypocritical tidbit, ostensibly a personal narrative on Methodist diversity, but mostly likely penned by a marketer:

"When the civil rights movement was in full swing, I was in grade school, so I wasn't old enough to march, or sit in, or take a Freedom Ride.

"But the images we saw on TV have stayed with me, and I’m struck by how often the news I see tells us that our work in the area of prejudice is far from done.

"The fact that on any given Sunday an amazing variety of people worship together as United Methodists makes me proud to be a part of this Church. People of every color gather in our churches around the world; in fact, the highest rates of growth for our Church are in Africa and the Philippines.

"As someone who grew up hearing about justice and equality, honoring diversity is a part of me. That’s why being a United Methodist has always felt right and been right for me. And acceptance goes a long way here, beyond merely welcoming people of differing cultural backgrounds into our midst. With our Church, everyone is invited to the communion table (what some call The Lord’s Supper or Holy Communion). Moreover, we don't tell other people they're going to hell if they don't become United Methodists. We don't have a dress code, so nobody has to hide their tattoos or put on a suit if they don't want to. Our music and worship styles are as diverse as our members, though we do hold some common beliefs. As a network of churches, we are as diverse as the human race. We believe that’s what the family of God looks like!"

Unless you're gay, then it's piss off to you.

I'm reminded of this:

First they came for the socialists,and I did not speak out because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists,and I did not speak out because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews,and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me,and there was no one left to speak for me.
--Pastor Martin Niemoller, Nazi Germany, circa 1945

This isn't the first time the UMC has embraced bigotry, but I kept hoping for better.

Buy More Tide

2004-11-17T11:56:00.000-08:00

Oakleaf Mold
The Family Research Council, which wants to make good protestant Christians out of all of us, are pushing to boycott Procter and Gamble in a news release so funny you need to read it for yourself. Basically, they accuse the maker of Tide and Crest, my new favorite toothepaste, of hostility against those who don't follow the corporate giant's pro-homosexuality agenda, and of perpetuating "anti-faith bigotry." Right. Do the makers of Pampers have a pro-homosexuality agenda? Seems to me they'd be better served by favoring us breeders. Of course, this is a tactic we've seen the fundamentalist extremists use again and again. They are masters of inspiring in their followers a Chicken-little sense of the falling-sky doom, a belief they they stand beseiged on the shores of a godless, libertine land, alone and afraid. The oppposite is true, as we know. They run the show, but their armies march faster and straighter when fed a balanced diet of self-righteousness and hysterical fear of "other."

2004-11-03T08:57:00.000-08:00

Stupid or Merely Disingenuous

I Just Don't Understand

2004-11-03T08:17:00.000-08:00

I suppose I'm not alone this morning, after a sleepless night of wondering about what roughly half of America was thinking yesterday. What were they thinking? What were you thinking?

It looks like it's over...at least Kerry won in Pennsylvania, so we did our part locally--though we fell short in replacing our Republican Senator, Arlen Specter.

I suppose we could find solace in the fact that we're living in unique times...the "empire" is crumbling, America is on the road to international insignificance, a bloated bully that has outlived it's glory and become a laughingstock, an object of derision. We've lost so much, and will lose so much more (Alaska, we hardly knew ye), and what a shame: we had such high ideals, once. Now we've become subservient to corporate oligarchy and fascist Christians.

It's plain embarrassing that we would elect an idiot as President not once, but twice.

Worse than the toll of the war on Iraq, worse than the inevitable environmental carnage, even worse than the continued economic stratification of our society, the pending Bush victory means that Republicans will control at least 2 and possibly 3 appointments to our Supreme Court, whose members serve until they die or chose to retire. How long before we see women dragged from their hospital rooms, tried and sentenced to lethal injection, for nothing more than taking claim to their own bodies?

On one hand, I started blogging today--a bit uncomfortably, as my syntax shows--out of a desire to speak up and add my voice to the opposition, to the chorus of people who believe in true freedom, the sanctity of the constitution, and the calling to live up to our ideals rather than the tidal pulls of adolescent machismo and corporate sponsorship.

The more I write this, today, the more I realize that what I would really appreciate is a reasoned, articulate explanation of what people see in George Dubya Bush. I look at this fellow, and I can't help but find a man of great means but limited intellect, a hypocrite who invokes scripture to pander to his pro-life constituency despite having been personally, gleefully responsible for the executions of 153 individuals during his short tenure as Gubna of Texas. A Judas who claims to love the outdoors but would gladly sell off our last slivers of wilderness to the highest multi-national corporate bidder. I don't see the good, strong, moral leader that half my fellow americans see. I look at this guy, and I see a buffoon: the Commander in Chimp.

I'd like to see something else. Maybe I'm not looking in the right places. Right now I just don't understand.