Flushing the Koran

The recent flap about alleged Koran-flushing is such a load of crap, no double-entendre intended. Everyone knows that our noble fighting forces would never be so irresponsible as to flush a book down a toilet, because doing so would surely choke the toilet.

Airline travel now worse than ever

That’s right folks. Just when you thought it couldn’t possibly get worse — airline travel in economy class now sucks more than ever, I have just determined after a round trip between Newark, New Jersey and San Juan, Puerto Rico. The seats have continued to get smaller and the rows closer together, while I have remained essentially the same size since 1983. The guy in front of you leans his seat back, and you can barely read your reading material, unless you like holding the text up to your nose.
With truly endemic obesity in the USA, most adults simply don’t fit in these little containers any more. Now there is an unwritten law that holds that the more corpulent passenger takes possession of the arm rest, which in any case is marginally adequate for a single, normal-sized human arm.
As a captive audience you are treated to movies that are not only mindless and annoying, but also violent. I would have raised serious hell if I had had my two year old daughter with me, because her mother and I have decided that she has decades ahead of her in which to see people being beaten, shot and otherwise abused on film and television; she does not need to start yet. It is outrageous that some no-mind in charge of programming the in-flight entertainment for Continental should take it upon (her|him)self to override our decision.
Oh by the way. The seats in the last row on some aircraft do not recline. Maybe this is common knowledge to savvy travelers and I’m a bumpkin. Wouldn’t it nevertheless be nice if the airline’s website would warn you about that when you’re making your seat selection? I had to find out the hard way on the way to PR and sit upright in my tiny seat for four hours.
Then they come around with “food.” On the outbound trip I asked them if they had any lethal injections, which they didn’t, so I said I’d pass. On the return trip they had “Philedalphia Cheesesteaks” for us sorry rabble. I didn’t have the chutzpah to ask them if they had any non-red-meat alternative. Out of sheer hunger and boredom, I submitted to the humiliation of eating it.
I did find useful a psychological trick that I’ve developed for such situations: assume you have died and gone to hell to suffer eternally. Then you will be pleasantly and genuinely surprised to hear the voice announce your initial descent to earth.

Open letter to Bill Maher

Hey Bill. Bill! You listening? Good. Just a few seconds of your time, please.

The show is great and I love it. Now, here’s my suggestion. If you want some other smart witty progressive women on your show, I would suggest:

  • Katha Pollitt
  • Barbara Ehrenreich
  • Naomi Klein

Imagine how they would crush that mendacious, venomous facsist friend of yours Ann Coulter. Bwa ha ha ha!

OK that’s it bro. Didn’t I promise I’d keep it short?

Grasping the full meaning of cards

You had to be there. But you would never be, unless you were a member of small elite that has been playing cards together for some 25 years. In our world, Cards is more than just cards. It is the rarest of delicacies; a fine wine that keeps improving with age; a profoundly gratifying, almost ritualistic event. We are a group of 40-something middle class white males that likes to get together once or twice a year and stay up late talking shit, getting fucked up, and… yes, playing some cards. Anybody who has a problem with that can kiss our ass.