Odd Bits - The Pissed Off Edition

I’m still pretty ticked about Sunday night’s game. One thing I learned from my ex-wife is that when you’re good and pissed off, there’s no sense in wasting it, which I often discovered first hand after she’d been fighting with her son before I’d come home from work.

“Honey, I’m home… Gahh! Baby please put down the steak knife…”

So I'm up for posting some Odd Bits tonight...

Dither on This!

I’m completely fed up with this "dithering” bullshit being leveled at Obama. Cheney crept out of his lair this week to charge again that by taking so long to decide the next course of action in Afghanistan, the President was showing weakness to our enemies.

Yes, in the animal kingdom, maybe. But in the world of grownups on the world stage, it’s not a bad move to actually think things over. Perhaps if the Repubs had tried it once or twice, we wouldn’t be in half the bind we’re in now.

We didn’t elect the Harvard Professor to get to the White House and think with his balls. We elected someone to look at the data, weigh the pros and cons, hear the options from the various experts and determine the best plan. That’s actually a good thing.

Our society no longer values complex thinking. If it can’t be summed up in fortune cookie statements, we just change the channel until someone can boil it down to something easily digestible. I’m looking at you, Beck.

We already had a go with “going with my gut.” That may be fine for picking a play on 3rd and long, but not with international affairs. The Shrub’s gut told him about Putin’s soul after looking in his eyes. Right. I submit that after years of being hypnotized by the evil that is behind Cheney’s eyes, Putin looked like Mister Rogers.

Enough with the gut. We elected a brain this time, one that writes books instead of coloring in them. We expect him to use it.

Now I don’t know what he has in mind tonight, other than committing more troops, but I’m sure he’s going to tell us about it. And it will add up to more than:

We = Good
They = Bad
Ergo: We blow some shit up. And make money for all our benefactors in the defense industry.

Invite This!
Another fart in a windstorm story… the couple seeking their 15 minutes crash a State Dinner. Now, a story that should be on an episode of “Punk'd!” is now dragging on and on.

When I first heard about it, I said to myself, “The Secret Service, an independently functioning operation, mistakenly let a couple of fame-seeking yuppies get close to the President. Now let’s see how long it takes for the right to make it Obama’s fault.” (Yes, I always say things to myself in long, multi-part sentences.)

The answer is “not very damned long at all.” Now they’re dragging the Social Secretary (who wasn’t standing at the gate) and a Defense Dept. official (who emailed them that they were not invited and she had no authority to change that) into the fray. So naturally, by extension, the Obama Administration can’t be trusted to “keep us safe from the terrorists.” Just check out the comments from the Baltimore Sun TV critic’s blog post on the crashing couple. The people just can’t wait to blame the administration, as if some sudden case of liberal incompetence took over the workings of the Secret Service, who, of course, were just fine when protecting George W POTUS.

Like I’ve been saying since February… it doesn’t matter what the guy does… If he goes right, the Right says “Go left” and if he goes left, the Right says “Go right.” It’s no wonder the country has lost its sense of direction.

5-Iron This!
I don’t care even a little bit about this “story.”

Some rich golfer cracks up his car at 3 in the morning after a fight with his trophy wife? So what else is new? He doesn’t want to issue a statement? Fine. Doesn’t want to talk to the cops? The only damage is to his car and his face. Who cares?

I’m just waiting for someone in his position to come out and say:

Dear Public,

Mind your own fucking business. You do not have the right to know what goes on behind my iron gates. See you on the links.

Buy Nike,

Tiger

PS. Thanks for all the dough.