Annus kinda
horribilus
BY PHILLIPE & JORGE
Not a wonderful year by most standards, as the average American
tended to end up having the government insult them at practically every turn.
The USA Patriot Act and Leave No Child Behind legislation turned out to be
hideous examples of invading our privacy and reducing our civil rights, under
the respective guise of fighting terrorism and promoting education. Sure, let's
arrest people without charges and give the names and addresses of our children
to the military recruiters. Democracy in action.
Dubya Bush and Big Time Cheney were able to dodge bullets over their corporate
affairs by promoting the insane idea of a war with Iraq. (This, incidentally,
has been completely exposed for the farce that it is by the way that Dubya has
essentially ignored North Korea's admission that it has nukes and isn't scared
to use them. There's no oil there as a reward for Boy George's Big Oil buddies
if we start another protracted, no-win war a la Vietnam, so we'll just ignore
that man with the H-bomb behind the screen.)
The Congress remains in control of the racist GOP, exposed in its faux efforts
to recruit blacks and minorities by Trent "Mississippi Queen" Lott's public
expression of what most Republicans believe. The "Southern Strategy" is alive,
as the GOP's recapture of the Senate proved all too well.
Globally, America is becoming despised for its failure to act on such
important health and environmental issues as AIDS and global climate change,
not to mention breaking and ignoring international treaties. Dubya's eternal
saber rattling has made us look like a nation of oppressors, rather than the
godsend we once represented to needy people everywhere and anywhere. P&J
are quite proud to be Americans and we always will be, but such spokespeople as
Dubya the Dumb, neo-fascist Rummy Rumsfeld, the certifiably insane John
Ashcroft, and the deplorable Lotsateetha Rice are an embarrassment, and they
insult the intelligence of other foreign leaders and citizens worldwide on a
daily basis.
Let's hope that 2003 brings a few people to their senses, not least the
chickenshits in the national Democratic party, who pee in their pants anytime a
Republican gives them a dirty look and barks, "Terrorism!" If gutless Holy Joe
Lieberman and John "Ken Doll" Edwards are legitimate Dem presidential
candidates for 2004, we have huge problems. Unless John Kerry stands up like a
good soldier and starts challenging Dubya on key domestic issues without
waffling (such as pointedly asking where Georgie was during Vietnam -- and it
sure wasn't serving in the National Guard, as the myth is projected), we'll be
in for even more BS and stealing of our ideals and liberties by one of the most
frightening administrations of the last 100 years.
Happy New Year.
The babysitter
One of the saddest things about the advent of 2003 is that we won't have
Lincoln Almond to kick around anymore. And since incoming governor Don Carcieri
looks like an intelligent, classy guy who's willing to listen to people from
all corners, it may be a while before we get the kind of fodder that Bigfoot
provided.
The Missing Linc leaves with pretty much no legacy, save for that of being a
caretaker babysitter of the Biggest Little during his eight years in office.
Yes, he did restructure the funding of the Providence Place Mall, but the
impetus for that economic plus for Our Little Towne was already underway when
Bigfoot came into office, and to his discredit, he opposed the mall's
construction while running for office.
We can't imagine a less dynamic public official than Big Linc, and his evident
distaste for hard work or advocacy for good projects was depressing as his
years of dozing on Smith Hill added up. His farcical pursuit of the
horrifically conceived mega-port at Quonset Point was a huge blemish on his
record, and the lies that he and his administration put forth in trying to
support the port were scandalous. Almond should be ashamed for this, and anyone
who was paying attention will forever question his credibility as a politician
because of such egregious behavior.
Linc also provided a tacit slap in the face to the state by his
well-publicized vacations on Cape Cod while presiding over the Ocean State,
which just happens to have some of the finest coastline in the country.
Wellfleet versus South County? Not even close when it comes to enjoying the
shore at Charlestown or Matunuck, never mind Newport or Jamestown. Good PR
sense, Bigfoot. We're sure the various Chambers of Commerce were delighted.
Much has been made of Almond's integrity, but any claims to fame in this area
all came before he became governor. One of Bigfoot's glaring demonstrations of
political ennui: his failure to properly support appointees, notably in his
nomination of the fragrant and remarkably talented Meg Curran for the Supreme
Court -- a choice which got slammed back in his face by the swine in the
General Assembly (up on your hind legs, please, Robert Flaherty), to the
governor's disgrace and the eventual US attorney's embarrassment.
Bigfoot's public appearances were torturous affairs. His delivery sounded as
if he had just shot up with heroin. When Jim Taricani was Linc's PR person at
the beginning of his initial term, P&J were aghast at his first State of
the State address, in which the Missing Linc used a stultifying monotone,
suggesting he had never seen his speech and needed help with the big words.
When we mentioned to Taricani that he could have underlined certain important
words or phrases, so Bigfoot would sound like he actually had a pulse, Jim
sighed and said, "I did! Even that didn't help."
Vo Dilun now faces a new era, with Bigfoot gone and Don Carcieri climbing into
the driver's seat. Let's hope the new guy realizes it's more than a
nine-to-five job and that the early bird special at Chelo's may just have to be
given a miss.
Victoria Lederberg
Flags at Casa Diablo remain at half-staff due to the altogether shocking and
sad passing of Supreme Court Justice Victoria Lederberg on Sunday, December 29.
A longtime legislator representing the East Side of Providence, a professor of
psychology (beside her doctorate in psychology, she also earned a master's
degree in biology) and a keen student of the law, Justice Lederberg was justly
celebrated for her rigorous intellect.
Many pundits (including your superior correspondents) openly questioned
Justice Lederberg's selection when she was elevated to the Supreme Court. At
that time, the General Assembly elected Supreme Court judges, and it was
perceived by many, since she was a veteran legislator and her career as a
lawyer had taken a back seat to her teaching career and legislative role (she
had never tried a case before a court), that this was a typical Halitosis Hall
grease job.
We, and everyone else who questioned her selection to the high court, were
wrong. Because she was a brilliant scholar, she took to appellate work like a
duck to water. Justice Lederberg was also known for her meticulous and thorough
work habits. Your superior correspondents particularly enjoyed her deadpan
sense of humor.
Victoria Lederberg was a class act all the way. She served Rhode Island well
for many years and we are all the better for it.
Send in the clones
We're having a bit of difficulty buying into last week's big news that a weirdo
cult group, the Raelians, whose primary belief is that humans are the offspring
of interplanetary aliens, have become the first to clone a human. We know that
Einstein frequently showed up with uncombed hair and was fond of sweatshirts in
his later years, but does Brigitte Boisselier, Raelian and scientific director
of Clonaid Inc., strike you more as one of the world's great scientists or
someone who's running a crew of hookers at Oakland Beach?
If she wins the Nobel Prize, will she show up in the same midriff-baring
outfit, wearing more make-up than Tammy Faye uses in a month, to pick up the
prize? Let's just say that P&J's first New Year's prediction is that
Brigitte and the Raelian clone Eve will soon enter the great pantheon of
Hitler's Diaries, Anastasia, and that group that toured the country years ago,
demanding that all animals be clothed.
Dead Pool, 2003
It's that time of year again for one of your superior correspondents' favorite
little games. We suspect that many of you out there play every year, but never
'fess up because, let's face it, this one rings the bad taste bell right off
the wall. At the end of each year, your evil and equally lowbrow friends and
you compile lists of those celebrities or public persons who you believe will
pass away in the next 12 months. Everyone has there own take on how to score
the thing, but, as we all know, you can't score big points by selecting the
usual advanced-in-years suspects: Bob Hope, Pope John Paul II, Brooke Astor,
Buddy Ebsen, or, the perennial, Strom Thurmond. Likewise, candidates who engage
in dangerous behavior as a way of life (e.g., Sid Vicious-style world-class
substance abusers or Evel Knievel), would garner few points.
In essence, sports fans, if you put Johnny Unitas on your list last year,
you'd have scored higher than those who jotted Ted Williams. And the dangerous
behavior quotient meant that Dee Dee Ramone was the equivalent of, say, Milton
Berle.
Here's where we'd like a little guidance on your scoring systems. Do you get
more or less points if it's someone whose death most would actually welcome
(Osama bin Laden, Saddam Hussein, or any of the interchangeable members of the
boy band O-Town)? Please let us know how you do it.
Send Dom Perignon 1952 and Pulitzer-grade tips to p&j[a]phx.com.
Issue Date: January 3 - 9, 2003
|
