There are really no big stories out there now, so we decided to do a Look Back and catch up on some of the more grotesque things on our event horizon.
Victoria Clarke, the chief fart-catcher for the Pentagon during the Iraq War announced she’s going away to do something else. Known as Ari Fleischer with Balls, Tory Clarke was the one with the sour demeanour standing next to some three-star at the daily Pentagon briefings.
The sour demeanour we can attribute to moronic questions from the journalists, as dealing with that particular group would make the most saintly among us, a bit pissy after a week. Where she’s going is not known yet, but, like Mister Happy Fleischer, expect a book, some speaking engagements and some teaching in her future. She survived the war and now is looking for the money teat, as is her due.
On the other hand, Jessica Lynch revelations keep leaking out. Despite stories to the contrary, it turns out that Pvt. Lynch wasn’t tortured by the Iraqis, her injuries were sustained when her vehicle overturned. Apparently, and this is merely speculation, she didn’t fight until the barrel of her gun melted down, didn’t attacker her captors with a tire iron, didn’t try to crawl to freedom on three broken legs and didn’t single-handedly capture the Republican Guard.
Pvt. Lynch is being courted by all the big media piles to tell her story and sign on the dotted line for TV movies, books, speaking engagements, action figures, commemorative plates, t-shirt deals (“I was captured by the Iraqi Army and All I Got was a Book Deal”) as well as the usual guest shots on fading TV series’.
Baghdad Bob has resurfaced, still living in Baghdad. He was the Ministry of Information mouthpiece who gave us such classics as “I triple guarantee you the Americans are nowhere near Baghdad…” According to Baghdad Bob, he surrendered to the Americans, was questioned and released. The Americans have said they took him in for about 45 minutes, gave him a firm handshake and said thanks for entertaining the troops.
Looking back over some of the other players, the only ones still causing a hairball, are Saddam Hussein and his sons. There’s no proof they’re dead, alive or living in Denmark, which is giving George W gas pains. Odds are they’re in such fun zones as Syria, Yemen or the Sudan, living a life of reasonable comfort. Or driving a cab in Cincinnati, Ohio.
Meanwhile, back home, a nurses’ aid in Texas who decided that driving around with a homeless man imbedded in the windshield of her car was the responsible course of action when she ran into the guy. Something like 50 years in the jug is her place in history.
Texas also stepped up, getting their sodomy laws struck down by the Supreme Court. Now, those who care to engage in that act, are free and clear to engage in sodomy without the fear of the Bung-Police busting down the door. Incidentally, oral intimacy is still illegal in Georgia, West Virginia and Tennessee, so for those want to taste the pudding, pull those pages out of the AAA Triptik.
The Economy keeps spluttering along, Alan Greenspan, the US Federal Reserve Chairman having reduced the Prime rate in the US to 1%. Theoretically, a 1% Fed Rate should have the economy running like a Starbucks Barista over the noon-hour, but the business world is just splayed out in the sun, wearing SPF 30 and getting smelly.
The reason the economy isn’t racing is that the stock market has shown itself to be simply Organized Insider Trading, rather than the discreet, semi-organized insider trading scam it was. I am inclined to blame day-trading for this. Thousands of day-traders are looking to make small gains, a few thousand dollars at a time, speed-trading stocks online on speculation and news that a company has something to talk about. A point-2 change is enough to get the day-traders to jump.
Unfortunately the corporate investors, who used to put money into companies for years at a time, now have to look at hours as their investment timeline. Trading volumes, the number of shares moved, are at all-time highs, meaning there is lots of money churning about, but nothing really important happening. Imagine taking the change out of your front pants pocket and putting it in your back pants pocket. Now, wait five minutes and move that change to your front pants pocket. Oh, you have to pay a commission for that privilege, by the way.
Martha Stewart has now become a punch-line to a joke with her insider trading troubles looking more and more serious. Some feel jail time would be appropriate, relishing the prospect of Martha doing a half-hour show on how to bake a metal file into a cake. Others feel a more appropriate punishment would be to make her actually live in a one-bedroom apartment in Cleveland, clothed, decorated and furnished only with her licensed products from K-Mart.
In Canada, everyone is at The Lake, Cottage or Camp, pounding down the beer. Toronto is trying to shuck off the SARS cloak to bring back the tourists. The Liberals are holding a leadership run, but based on the coverage, it is all done by mimes, determined to make no noise whatsoever. The Conservatives have elected a new leader, but nobody remembers his or her name: Same with the Canadian Alliance party.
Ernie Eaves, the Premiere of Ontario, looks almost lifelike, which is the same thing you say at a funeral. At least there are flowers at the funeral home and maybe you can get to ride in a limousine. I suspect we’ll find Ontario was sold to a European consortium four years ago and is now just another privately held company, traded on the Hong Kong stock market under the symbol, SHT
Looking ahead? Summer is hot. There is no snow. It is good.