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You Can call Him Senator Al
Congratulations, Senator Al Franken -- it's about freakin' time!
We've been rooting for Al Franken to join the Senate precisely because we listened to his show on Air America. Yeah, we couldn't wait to get him off the air.
NO NO NO! The REAL reason Al Franken is the right guy for the job is because he understands the issues and has solid, practical ideas about how to make things better. As pompous and egocentric as I have found Al to be, he cares passionately about this country and about Minnesota. You could hear it when you listened to his radio show. He had such a keen grasp on what was going on all over the country and around the world, and thought about solutions all the time. And he talked about Minnesota to the point where sometimes I just had to turn the dial down for a while. I'm in Oregon, Al, talk about Oregon.
When Al brought his traveling radio show to Portland in 2005, you'd better believe I was in the audience. During the commercial breaks they played the Grateful Dead over the loudspeakers, and I'd get up and dance my fool ass off. I was with Rachel, who was not fazed in the slightest by my behavior. At one point I heard her say, "Keep dancing -- Al's lovin' it!"
"Run for the Senate, Al," I told him. "Your gifts are wasted on the radio."
I'm so glad he listened to me on that fateful day. The citizens of the great state of Minnesota owe me a tremendous debt of gratitude today.The good people of the Gopher State have a fine new Senator today, at last. You're welcome.
How Jenny Found Out - A Chopped Liver Video Re-Enactment
Jenny Sanford, First Lady of South Carolina and wife of randy rowdy raunchy Republican Mark Sanford, has told the devastating tale of how she learned of her husband's infidelities. And the instant I read the story, I knew I had to do a dramatic re-enactment. It's a public service because we were unable to be on the scene when the events unfolded, but now we can all feel like we were.
You're welcome.
Also, I'm very, very sorry.
-- Janice Leber, Chopped Liver Productions
Note: If this doesn't seem to want to play in Firefox, please reload in a different browser if you have one available.GET READY, PART 2 IS IN THE WORKS!
God help me, I'm now on Twitter.
More thoughts on Michael Jackson.
June 29: The weekend was just as I had feared, the TV filled with endless breathless memories of the extraordinary career of Michael Jackson, and I started thinking that my original post on his untimely death (which I have relegated to the "Feeble Mind" section of this web site) was way too harsh. I know he was a phenomenal talent who defined showmanship. I too was mesmerized by his performances (although I could live without the epidemic of crotch-grabbing he inspired). Honestly, I always wished the best for him.
I wished he would be arrested. No really, I wished the best for him and I meant it. I think a timely arrest would have saved his life.
Michael Jackson had some serious mental issues. Come on, surely there can be no debate about that. His face is a bald testament to his shattered frame of mind. Beyond physical pain, Michael Jackson clearly suffered. And the main source of his suffering was the fact that nobody ever said no to him. As a young boy he endured horrendous abuse at the hands of his father and saw things no young boy should ever see -- but when his talent triumphed and the family came to rely on Michael for their own livelihood, he got whatever he asked for and he never heard the word "no" again.
And that's a problem. There was no one to pull the brakes, no higher authority to tell him, "This time you've gone too far." There was only his boundless energy and ego drawing him into an ever more destructive lifestyle.
He never even fell in love. That would have been a humbling experience. He needed more humbling experiences.
The pain of his early years gave him a perfect rationalization to grant himself any request, and everybody bought the excuse and said, "Go ahead, Michael, build a private zoo. Bring another young boy into your bed. Take another little slice off your nose."
Had he at some point been forced to confront REALITY, had some patient and trusted therapist at an early date taken on the enormous task of exorcising his demons, Michael Jackson would be with us today.
Last night I wondered, "If his childhood was so tragic and terrible, why did he never want to leave it?"
Dr. Knobs shot back, "He wanted to get it right."
And we both agreed, he never did.
Her Name Was Neda.
The word "Neda" means "voice" or "call" in Farsi. But over the weekend, the name Neda has become a symbol for those the world over who yearn for freedom for all people.
Twenty-six-year-old Neda Agha Soltan fell victim to the burgeoning violence following the corrupt elections in Iran. (I have seen the bloody, horrifying video; I will spare you.) Her story was told eloquently in a tearful post on Newsvine.com:
Early today, a beautiful young woman was demonstrating in Tehran, along with her father. When friction between the Basiji -- the brutal packs of militia that patrol the streets of Tehran, beating women and children and students -- and the demonstrators broke out, it was her ill-fortune to become one of the first victims of Basiji homicide, though she was doing nothing more than standing by innocently, watching.
It is said that a Basij sniper shot her through the heart, simply to see her die.
The final moments of her tender young life leaked into the pavement of Karegeh Street today, captured by cell phone cameras. And not long after, took on new life, flickering across computer screens around the world on YouTube, and even CNN.
The words of her fellow students, her fellow Iranians are already burning an indelible message into cyberspace. Within minutes of her name being identified, it became the fastest-rising 'trending topic' on Twitter.
Her name was Neda, an innocent bystander shot dead just for watching.
We are Neda and all those who fell with her.
Neda is one Iranian. Neda is all Iranians.
May God cradle NEDA in Peace and wake her soul to show her that she was not lost for nothing, her blood rained freedom.
The World cries seeing your last breath, you didn't die in vain.
We remember you.
... Her name was Neda... She is the voice of the people. She is a call to freedom.
To this I would add, Neda is not only all Iranians. Neda is all people.
May a just peace come swiftly to the people of Iran.
Ahmadinejad Does Not Learn From History.
An open admonishment to Mahmoud Ahmadinejad:
IDIOT! This is not how you steal an election.
As foolish as he was, George W. Bush knew something you apparently never figured out.
First, the "results" ...
Look at how colorful, diverse and "fair" the map from the 2005 election looks, as opposed to Ahmadinejad's lopsided "victory" in June.
My dear Mr. Ahmadinejad, when you rig the numbers, you have to make it look close. Hell, you can even get fewer votes than your opponent and still win! Just dispute the close election and take it to the Supreme Court.
They'll know what to do.
I know George W. Bush. I've worked against George W. Bush. Mahmoud, you are no George W. Bush. I didn't think a country could have a worse or more corrupt commander-in-chief. You have proven me wrong.
We've been rooting for Al Franken to join the Senate precisely because we listened to his show on Air America. Yeah, we couldn't wait to get him off the air.
As if I was about to stop dancing, regardless.
June 29: The weekend was just as I had feared, the TV filled with endless breathless memories of the extraordinary career of Michael Jackson, and I started thinking that my original post on his untimely death (which I have relegated to the "Feeble Mind" section of this web site) was way too harsh. I know he was a phenomenal talent who defined showmanship. I too was mesmerized by his performances (although I could live without the epidemic of crotch-grabbing he inspired). Honestly, I always wished the best for him.
Her Name Was Neda.