THE DECLINE OF WESTERN CIVILIZATION AND THE CONDITION OF YOUR LOCAL PUBLIC RESTROOM


Tne number one fear in America is not death, taxes, or a Constitutional Amendment allowing the Crawford chimp another term. And all that nonsense about speaking in front of a group, hey, toss that one out the window. The number one fear in America is, and rightfully so, doing a “Number 2” in a public restroom. Face it guys, our "hover" muscles have atrophied.

Long before this revelation struck me, and when Lost was just a Little Lost, we embarked upon the hostage taking that was the Family cross-country vacation. The ordeal will forever live in notoriety – and not merely because Tricky Dick resigned the day it began. Litlle Lost learned two very important reasons that day: first, he learned that you should NEVER eat at Stuckeys (the many highway signs touting their existence are the first clue); and, (2) that if you violate rule (1), your father’s obsession with Lysol is not a bad thing. Stopping as we did at a gas station that was right out of “Mad Max” and staffed by walk-ons from “Deliverance,” little Lost answered the hysterical call just outside of Amarilla, but did so armed with the ubiquitous can of Lysol. When all was, ahem, said and done, and Lost was staggering back to the car, the attendant – possibly an uncle to James Carville, - asked if we “wouldn’t mahnd takin’ that cayhn into the Ladies room and sprayin’ it around. “

Nowadays, it has become nearly impossible to walk through a Men’s public restroom without waders. Chalk it up to bad aim, smaller sinks, or a generalized I-already-gave-a-S**t-what-more-do-you-want?” attitude, Men’s restrooms have started to resemble a watery (at least I hope its mostly water) Apocalypse. The sink counters are flooded, the paper baskets are overflowing and spilled over, and don’t get me started on those stall toilets. An old friend of Lost has suggested that some of it may be found in cultural differences. I’m more cynical than that. I think people – Males especially – have started defining “freedom” in a most bizarre way. Just as, for Ali McGraw thirty years ago Love meant never having to say you’re sorry, for the current generation of men “Freedom” has become so bastardized that it includes the right to porcine evacuation and who gives a rat’s crank about who has to clean it up at six bucks an hour? And no, it doesn’t matter if you’re at a stadium, a nice movie theatre, the local performing arts center, a Navy ship, a courthouse, or even a hospital. Sloppy is as sloppy does.

Work on your aim, my brothers. If you don’t, we are truly doomed

I’ll see your two “Nuculars," and raise you 22 “Freedoms”











If its prime time, and it’s a Presidential speech post 9/11, you can bet your bottom dollar it will be uttered in front of a military audience. Expect a handful of 9/11 references, a lot of mentions of how “hard” the “work” is, and so much “free” stuff that you’ll think you’re at a 1970’s era supermarket Grand Opening.

Well, that’s what you got in Fayeteville last evening. The War President himself set a personal best in last night’s 30 minute re-hash montage of his previous speeches, cranking out 22 “Freedoms” 5 references to September 11, 2 “Nuculars” and one “killers”

At one point he told us that “Today Iraq has more than 160,000 security forces trained and equipped for a variety of missions.” Later he backtracked, noting “Iraqi security forces are at different levels of readiness. Some are capable of taking on the terrorists and insurgents by themselves. A large number can plan and execute anti-terrorist operations with coalition support. The rest are forming and not yet ready to participate fully in security operations.” Somehow, we were left wondering whether he’d left the word “potty” out between the words “forces” and “trained” in the earlier statement about Iraqi forces.

Its as if the Prez has decided not to wait until later, but to go ahead and contradict himself right away, during the same speech.. Another fine example happens in the same paragraph.

“Some Americans ask me, if completing the mission is so important, why don't you send more troops? If our commanders on the ground say we need more troops, I will send them. But our commanders tell me they have the number of troops they need to do their job (so we don’t need more). Sending more Americans would undermine our strategy of encouraging Iraqis to take the lead in this fight (sending more would undermine Iraqi morale – apparently much more so than ongoing car-bombings and ambushes do) . And sending more Americans would suggest that we intend to stay forever, when we are, in fact, working for the day when Iraq can defend itself and we can leave (those KBR constructed permanent bases now being built in Iraq are just a ruse then how clever!!). As we determine the right force level, (WHAT? You just said we don’t need more, now you’re not sure?!?) our troops can know that I will continue to be guided by the advice that matters: the sober judgment of our military leaders.


Following up the “no thanks we don’t need anymore was this one: “And to those watching tonight who are considering a military career, there is no higher calling than service in our Armed Forces.” As in “we don’t need you in a Iraq (really) but please sign up. Now.

Nowhere in the speech did he mention the human cost of the Iraq money pit, or the fact that, beyond the deaths – the rising death toll of U.S. Servicemen and women, the over ten thousand who have been seriously wounded or the economic cost of this enterprise which is approaching one billion dollars a week. But he did make a plug for private funding of the effort: “The Department of Defense has set up a website -- AmericaSupportsYou.mil. You can go there to learn about private efforts in your own community.” Yes, support the troops directly, because, well, we’re not gonna do it out of the federal coffers. We’ve gotta pay Halliburton and friends.

Frankly, he played to his base, a group steadily declining in number and fast approaching that core element, a group which would vote for a real shrub so long as it had “R” after its name – or had at least one that had accepted a personal savior, preferably live on a “700 Club” broadcast. For those in the opposition party, those among the independents who have noticeably deserted the Bush-Cheney camp and for those in the GOP who are, finally, vocally breaking with Curious George over this elective war, nothing came out of tonight’s effort to stem the rising tide of dissent, and quell the growing skepticism that everything about this Iraq escapade has been a complete disaster. All he could offer was more of the same. Tonight, on the truthout web-site, William Rivers Pitt made a modest proposal for how to best deal with the President’s precious monologue on Iraq.

http://www.truthout.org/docs_2005/062805X.shtml

“Tonight should be interesting. If I were still in college, I'd propose creating a drinking game based on this speech. Drink a beer after every lie. Drink a beer every time Bush says "freedom," or talks about September 11 as if those attacks had anything to do with Iraq. Drink two beers after every wildly unrealistic assessment that has no basis in fact. Drink a beer and a shot every time he says "Nukular." Two beers, a shot and a kick to the head every time he thanks the troops around him for the sacrifices "we" know must be made. Anyone still standing after ten minutes wins a Kewpie doll.”

William Rivers Pitt is no doubt responsible for some monstrous hangovers today.

That Darn Sewing Machine and other Packratasia


Before my follicles all migrated South for the winter and never returned. Before there was Big Lost Jr. and Little Lost Jr. Long before Mr. and Mrs. Lost said “I do” in the presence of a 100+ of their relatives and closest friends – many of whom do still speak to us –it was there. No, I’m not talking about student loan debt, or a collection of Styx and Lynyrd Skynyrd L.P.s. They’re still there, too, hiding in their melon-crate carrying cases, relics of an audio time past. At least they were taken out of their cardboard and paper sleeves frequently, and made to provide hours of aural pleasure. Nope, this is about a certain Singer Sewing Machine.

Mrs. Lost, when she was still a Miss, was sent a-packin’ off to college in the Big City, with the Singer in tow. It was a gift from Mother-in-Lost, a well intended gadget that had outlived its usefulness even in the Ray-gun years, given nevertheless in the hope that it would be oft used to hem, stitch, create and alter a future brimming with promise.

In reality, I’m not sure the cover has ever come off the thing. Mrs. Lost assures me she’s going to use it. Someday. When she gets around to it. But it has to get that bobbin thing fixed first. AHA! A clue, for how could she know the bobbin was broken if the cover had never come off? A breatkthrough-and-a-half, to be sure.

In the meantime, Ol’ Singer has been the largest and the bulkiest of dust-gathering paperweights, and has made many a move - first across Big City three times, then further South and around our current base of operations on the four moves for a total of seven relocations, all without a single stitch sewn.

Each year at this approximate time, Mrs. Lost sets about gathering up the stuff that is no longer fitting – mainly that means kid clothes, but sometimes, well, there’s other stuff. And each year for the last several, the Singer is mentioned as a candidate for relocation to Camp Goodwill, and each year there is a petulant “I’m going to use it someday.” This year was different. This year’s response was a thinly-disguised,-but-exasperated, “Okay, okay, we can ship it out if you want.” When the big day arrived, we pulled up to the back gate of Camp Goodwill, ready to greet the gatekeeper with bags of too small t-shirts, too-boring books, and – I hoped, one ancient Singer. See, with this brace on my leg (which comes off in a few more weeks), Mrs. Lost won’t permit heavy lifting. Needless to say, when the books and the clothes and the other stuff came out the trunk beheld . . . nothing. Singer had survived the cut to languish another year in its favorite spot on the closet floor. Somehow I sense it is laughing at me. Or perhaps its merely the movement of the not-really-broken bobbin, mocking me in its own triumphant way. At this rate, I’ll never get rid of that unicycle that’s been hanging in the garage here for nearly a decade, and which has made as many moves as that old Sewing machine has as well. This must mean that my baseball cards are safe, and well, that’s something, I suppose.

The Scandal According to Santorum

One of the best bumper stickers floating around this little bit o’red that I call home is one that states “The Last Time We Mixed Politics and Religion People Got Burned at the Stake,” It’s a fave of mine that I have often told Mrs. Lost I’d like to put on my car next to one that says “Pray the Rosary.” Always keep ‘em guessing.

This week, one of the more embarrassing members of my Cradle Faith, Senator Rick Santorum, weighed in on the repugnant scandal which still dogs the Church, and, depending on who you believe, still threatens to undermine it. In an online article for National Catholic online, the junior Senator for Pennsylvania opined as follows about the scandal.


Link
http://www.catholic.org/featured/headline.php?ID=30

"It is startling that those in the media and academia appear most disturbed by this aberrant behavior, since they have zealously promoted moral relativism by sanctioning "private" moral matters such as alternative lifestyles. Priests, like all of us, are affected by culture. When the culture is sick, every element in it becomes infected. While it is no excuse for this scandal, it is no surprise that Boston, a seat of academic, political and cultural liberalism in America, lies at the center of the storm."

So, there you have it. The Pope – who blamed it all on an overanxious media, is wrong about the scandal. That loudmouth William Donohue – who inadvertently does the best Archie Bunker impression ever seen – is only partially correct when he blames it all on “homosexuals.” No, the great Santorum has spoken, and “Liberalism” caused the scandal. Not evil men who transcended mental illness by acting out in ways they knew were criminally and morally wrong, they get a pass. Ditto the hierarchy, who played the shell game and ignored the Fulghum-esque simplicity inherent in the notion that “no bad thing gets better when you hide it. “ Nope, its those darn Liberals again, and their Mecca in Boston is positive proof.

Except that, Senator Rick is wrong. Again. The modern day element of this scandal first broke in rural Louisiana in 1985. There, a handful of complaints against one priest led to the discovery of several more perpetrators, and, you guessed it, a hierarchy that tried to sweep it away and hide it. And while the story garnered some coverage for a few crazy months in 1985 and 86, it slid back under the radar screen for another decade and a half, before it finally reared its ugly head again.

And this ugliness within the flawed men who run the Church has cropped up all over the United States, even in Pennsylvania. And the victims date back into the 1950’s , 60’s and 70’s - - times when Liberalism was hardly in a constant state of ascendancy. But that doesn’t matter to Rick. He’s just trying to motivate his base, and shore up that poll deficit that exists between him and likely challenger, Bob Casey, Jr. Lisa Simpson said it best when, after finding her brother feverishly chanting on his knees before an exam, she paraphrased Samuel Johnson: “prayer, the last refuge of a scoundrel.” Shame on you, Rick Santorum. Making excuses will only serve to harm the effort to eradicate the pedophilia and the secretive hierarchical culture which served to perpetuate it.

KILL DISSENT AND ALL WI'BE WELL?

Senator Durbin knows what this is all about. Newsweek does, too. Maybe Karl Rove is getting a bit of it, now, too. Donald Rumseld tried to pitch out some of this on his Meet the Press appearance this past Sunday. It has become abundantly clear that a dominant strain among vocal conservatives is utter contempt for dissenting viewpoints. If we all just thought alike, there'd never be any problems. Everyone would just get along.

If there were no dissent, or if dissent were effectively quelled at key times in world history, perhaps we'd be chatting about this over tea and crumpets at 4 this afternoon. Or speaking German. Maybe Cairo would be the greatest city in the Eastern Hemisphere, as it would have enjoyed the benefits of centuries more low-cost Israelite slave labor. There might have been no Christianity, because nobody would have listened to Jesus -- he was a system-bucking rule-bender, too.

We'd have saved all that money going to the moon and exploring space because, after all, The earth would still be viewed as the flat center of the universe. What need would we have to go anywhere else? Oh, and without dissent in the scientific community - that willingness to reject "its not possible" as the right answer, our average life expectancy would be about 30 something, as we stoically accepted our deaths at the hands of strep throat, smallpox, measles, polio, or any one of a thousand other diseases now held medically in check. To those on the right of the spectrum who wish to demonize dissent, to wish it away, take a moment and reflect upon the ways the World has benefited from dissenters throughout history. No one can calculate the value of unchallenged ideas.

PAUL WINCHELL DEAD at 82

The world lost a great Renaissance-man talent, as reported in the L.A. Times this morning.

http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-052505winchellobit_wr,0,7659855.story?coll=la-home-headlines

Most knew him through the voice of "Tigger" others of my vintage and older knew him as the "sidekick" for Jerry Mahoney and Knucklehead Smiff. Still fewer knew him as a visionary inventor, who even devised his own artificial heart. Rest in Peace Paul Winchell.

"Dr. Phil" McGraw, Madonna, and Michael Jackson. Nope, sorry, this is no tribute to the Great Carnac, or the late comedic genius who created him. These are but three of the names appearing on an atrocity known as the List of the 100 Greatest Americans.

http://dsc.discovery.com/convergence/greatestamerican/top100/top100.html.

Okay, so I'm well aware that this list was compiled by AOL, and that the polling was about as scientific as those nutty local TV station e-polls that ask "Should 'Friends' be brought back for one more season?" or "Do you like to celebrate Holiday Weekends with barbecues?" but Good Lawdy Miss Clawdy, Dr.Phil on the list of the 100 greatest Americans, but don't look for Bob Dylan, Lewis and Clark, or Ulysses Grant. Sorry, didn't make the cut.

Oh, sure, Oprah and Ellen DeGeneres made that list. Each just epitomizes American greatness. Besides, Ed Sullivan (not there) never gave away a bunch of cars to one of his audiences. Ditto Edward R. Murrow, Fred Rogers and Bob Keeshan (Captain Kangaroo is AWOL?), apparent victims of their own parsimony it would appear. Tiger, you're a great golfer, but Jim Thorpe deserved a seat at the table, preferably next to Oscar Robertson.

Thank goodness the material girl made the list. My personal American experience was altered forever when she made wearing lingerie on stage and crooning synthetic pop music a cultural staple. Besides, Billie Holliday (not on the list) battled addiction most of her life and we couldn't have that - er, oh yeah sorry 'bout that Rush. Great showing in the top 60 for you, mega dittos and all that rubbish. Oh, and by the way, Mort Sahl, Mark Russell, Andy Rooney and Garrison Keillor are all funnier than you are. Oh and while we're on the subject of drugs three first ladies - the current one, her mother-in-law, and Jackie O make the list, but sorry Mrs. Ford. All you did was help humanize the plight of people who struggled with addictions, and help American women to be more assertive in the 1970's. That's not good enough to make the list.

Those fine AOL folks who voted early and often really do hate activist judges - you won't find Thurgood Marshall, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Earl Warren or Learned Hand on this list. Scalia was busy duck hunting with Dick Cheney and couldn't be reached for comment.

As for politics, it gets even crazier. Sorry, voters, It doesn't matter how many of you Pioneers and Rangers mobilized your wired downlines to cast ballots, but George W. Bush is not in the top 100 Greatest Americans, let alone in the top 25. And Barack Obama, you and John Edwards may, someday, qualify for consideration in this type of list. But that day is down the road, and neither of you deserved higher ranking than Robert Kennedy. Oh, and Richard Nixon belongs off this list for reasons similar to those which keep Pete Rose and Joe Jackson out of Baseball's highest honor.

So enjoy your spot at the table Condi, even if you should stand up and offer it to Shirely Chisholm, Wilma Rudolph, Billie Jean King or Frances Perkins. And it is at least a comfort that neither Dale Earnhardt nor Bill O'Reilly have managed to parlay car crashes or French Boycotts into a position of perceived greatness on the part of America's web surfers.