Words of wisdom

How could Phillipe and Jorge not get involved in the spirit of giving that pervades the holidays and not offer our best and brightest advice to former Cookson Group Plc. chairman Richard Oster, who is considering a run for governor? Fuggedaboudit, Dickie.

How and why these boardroom bores come to the conclusion that because they have been greedy enough to grab enough money to choke a horse, they can benefit all humanity by getting into politics is beyond us. While they may be able to press the flesh at most tables at the Capitalist Grille, their affinity with everyday Vo Dilunders is about as close as that of Queen Elizabeth with Mohammed "Give me a fuggin' British passport" Fayed.

What is perhaps most frightening about Oster's delusions is his affiliation with the legendary schlock salesman and parking ace Mark "Handicapped Zone" Weiner, former state Democratic Party remora, excuse us, chairman. Last week, when Weiner announced that "a lot of people feel he [Oster] would make a very intriguing and exciting candidate," Phillipe and Jorge took the liberty of interpreting "a lot of people" to mean "me and the valet parking attendant at Capriccio until he gets my tip."

The biggest tip-off of how well Oster would run the Biggest Little is Weiner's claim that the former Cookson chairman would be prepared to forgo the guv's salary and work for a dollar a year. (Hey, Mark, it's usually best to check with the person you're making claims about before you speak.) If that were the case, Phillipe and Jorge are sure that an old adage would certainly ring true -- you get what you pay for.

Faux Phil's Cool, Cool World

Whoops, looks like Faux Phil Terzian, the BeloJo's answer to Phillipe & Jorge when it comes to disciplined journalistic enterprise, has been caught shooting from the lip once again. While your superior correspondents make no claim to anything but sitting around and making fun of everyone who richly deserves it, Phil pulls the same shit in the Urinal's Washington office but tries to wrap it in the guise of serious, thought-provoking reportage.

The children of the late ABC newsman Frank Reynolds recently wrote in to the Other Paper to complain about Terzian's attempt to lump their father's interment in Arlington National Cemetery in with the recent case of Larry Lawrence, the Clinton ambassadorial appointee who faked a wartime service record and was subsequently buried in Arlington, causing embarrassment all around.

In a December 10 column on the Lawrence affair, Phil claimed that Reynolds received an exemption for burial in Arlington because of his "friendship with Nancy Reagan." The fact that the longtime ABC reporter was a highly decorated veteran of World War II didn't really fit into Terzian's context, so he conveniently left it out of his column.

To the blistering letter to the editor sent in by the Reynolds family, Phil lamely replied, "I did not mean to suggest that Frank Reynolds did not serve in the Army, only that I understood an exception had been granted for his burial ceremony at Arlington." Well then, what's the point?

Speaking of our boy Phil, the day after Thanksgiving he appeared on C-Span's Washington Journal show along with Pacifica radio news commentator Amy Goodman. Phillipe & Jorge spoke with Ms. Goodman after the broadcast and found a possible answer to one of those questions that has nagged us for years -- where does that fake British accent come from? Apparently, Phil mentioned in passing to Amy that he "does voices." Could Phil be moonlighting on updated Heckle & Jeckle cartoons?

The quick and the deadly

In-the-know Vo Dilunduhs are aware that the place to go for quality political speculation is Channel 36's Deadly Experiment. Not only was the possibility of Richard Oster's running for governor first floated on the show, but two weeks ago the Deadly panel was ahead of the curve in speculating on whether Nancy Mayer would challenge Congressman Patrick Kennedy (D-Rhode Island) in 1998.

That these phantom races rarely materialize (how many times did we see Charlie Bakst hectoring Paul Kelly about running for governor?) is hardly the point. It's political gossip and we love it.

Indeed, although a Kennedy/Mayer confrontation sounds like a great race on paper, that's where P&J expect it to stay. We fully anticipate that the general treasurer will decline the desperate pleadings of her party and retire from public life gracefully, with her reputation intact. Then the state GOP will be free to scrounge up another 20-something candidate, such as the ill-fated Mr. Ciccione, to serve as sacrificial lamb to the Kennedy machine.

Incidentally, the high point of last week's Deadly was when Mr. Bakst produced a lovely seasonal greetings card from a Mr. Junior Patriarca, currently a guest of our federal government. That's why we love Vo Dilun -- everybody knows everybody else.

Is that a monster in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

While P&J are quite used to seeing people swoon when Phillipe pulls out his pocket monster, we were taken aback by the 700-plus kids in Japan who suffered seizures after watching the TV show Pocket Monsters broadcast on December 16.

It seems that Tokyo TV, which airs the show that is an outgrowth of a Nintendo video game, combined two high-tech techniques called "paka-paka." This involves high-cycle flashing lights and "flash," in which a strong beam of light is emitted. Although these are commonly used in animated cartoons, their combination caused viewers to faint, vomit blood, and suffer convulsions. (Geez, sounds like a night of watching Friends in the Boom Boom Room at Casa Diablo.)

What was most disturbing was the reaction of Dr. Toshio Yamauchi, a medical school professor who heads an organization in Japan called Electronic Screen Game and Seizures (a sister agency of P&J's own American TV Talk Shows and Diarrhea Institute). Doc Yamauchi seemed unfazed in saying that of course the paka-paka was known to induce seizures. (God forbid Michael Eisner should ever find out about this supposed common knowledge.)

So don't worry all you moms and dads. TV is nothing like the instant opiate you once thought it was. "Now you kids stop having a fit in there!"

Our children

P&J traveled to Harlem last weekend for a performance called Batoto Yetu (which means "our children" in Swahili) at the Apollo Theater. It featured over 100 African-American New York City children, ages four to 15, putting on a show that surpassed anything P&J had ever seen, including James Brown on that very stage many moons ago.

This is the fourth year in a row that Julio, a friend of one of P&J's most fragrant female companions, has staged the show. A refugee from Angola and a professional dancer in his own right, Julio not only trains the drummers who provide the accompaniment, does the choreography for the dancers, sews their wild African-inspired costumes, and paints the performers' faces, but he brings the kids and their parents over to his apartment after rehearsal so his young recruits can do their homework.

Batoto Yetu has started to gain the support of many high rollers in the entertainment community, as well as of HBO, and last year Muhammad Ali led "our children" at a performance. While you should be in tears thinking about what Batoto Yetu is doing for these kids' lives, when you see them dance and drum like demons for more than an hour -- smiling continually and urged forward by an equally radiant Julio -- you'll realize that they are now far from underprivileged and that you are also privileged to be let in on the secret. Happy holidays.

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