The dawn of reason?

Don’t you just love it when Dawn of the Dead, the rehash of the George Romero sequel (no less) to the ’70s cult horror classic Night of the Living Dead (in which some of Phillipe and Jorge’s lovely friend BB’s Pittsburgh-area high school friends played bit parts of the undead), becomes the first film to outdraw Mel Gibson’s fun-filled, yucks-a-minute black humor epic, The Passion of the Christ? Nothing like the dawn of the zombie world surpassing the dawn of Christianity. P&J think this is just what God, that old prankster, does for kicks these days.

Sleep tight, Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson.

DON'T WRAP IT, WE'LL EAT IT HERE

Your superior correspondents just want to cry after seeing the notice, "Historic bridge offering: Old Jamestown Bridge No. 400, North Kingstown and Jamestown," appear in papers last week. (Why wasn’t it advertised on eBay? Could there be a more aptly named marketplace?) Yes, after serving the Biggest Little since 1940, the glowing tribute to Erector Sets and vertigo is being sold to the highest bidder. How Phillipe and Jorge lovingly remember the look of fear in the eyes of passing motorists trapped in traffic high above Narragansett Bay, as the bridge swayed in response to the rumbling trucks on the other side. All this while looking through the bridge’s iron grate to the forbidding waters 100 feet below.

P&J are saddened we won’t be able to pay off our lottery of when the bridge, due to old age, a major storm or a breakaway barge, would finally collapse and crash into the new span next to it. We are glad to see it going to the person who most wants to own this spectacular span. And yes, Mr. Trump, it will look wonderful on your mantle.

POTS AND KETTLES

P&J love to celebrate outright perversity combined with utter arrogance. No, we are definitely not talking about the combination of the National Football League, MTV, and the Janet Jackson-Justin Timberlake assault on taste during the Super Bowl halftime. Instead, we refer, of course, to the Bushie White House and their butt boys.

First, we had V.P. Dick "Big Time" Cheney attacking John Kerry’s war and defense record. That’s quite a good one coming from a man who never served in the military, let alone fought in a war, is proving to be a serial liar, and is one of President AWOL’s chief chicken hawks.

Then we had William Safire, the clapped-out, puling old Richard Nixon apologist, whose New York Times columns and stultifying appearances on Meet the Press make a strong case for dyspepsia. This aging blowhard cited as "phony toughness" Kerry’s refusal to apologize for calling Dubya and his troops liars and crooks, in a comment made ostensibly off the record. When it comes to being tough, Dubya, Safire’s knight in shining armor, is about as rugged as a piece of Wonder Bread soaked in warm milk, given more to posturing with bullhorns and in flight suits than to doing anything difficult. And would someone explain to P&J just what it is that Boy George has done to fight terror since 9/11? To our eyes, he strikes photo-op poses and comes up with color-coded terrorism alerts, which owe more to a promotion on the back of a packet of sugar-coated breakfast cereal than to real political action. Oh, that’s right, we invaded Iraq, a country that had nothing to do with 9/11, except as a diversion for the American public and our troops. The latter are being killed for no reason, while Al Qaeda and the Taliban revivify themselves in Afghanistan. Time to turn in your cards, Mr. Safire. The party has been too long been over, and you can take your rough-tough creampuff in the White House before he shoots himself while twirling his cap gun in the Oval Office.

Finally, we have Condee Rice, she of the embarrassing Jackie-O retro-look suits and 1950s Ebony magazine hairdo, who can appear on 50 TV news shows to spew falsities about WMDs instead of trying to tell the truth before the 9/11 commission. Queen Lotsateetha says she has to do it on "principle." This comes as a bit of a shock, since Condee comes up a bit short here.

Nice work, Mr. Orwell, you had it all figured out.

(Note: Special journalistic wannabe award for gullibility to the Urinal for running a huge headline on its March 19 front page, screaming, "Tightening the noose." No doubt using reports fed through Rummy Rumsfeld’s Pentagon credibility vetting process, the BeloJo was trumpeting reports that "Pakistani military and intelligence officials" (bonus points for double oxymorons!) had announced the pending capture of the chief advisor to Osama bin Laden. (Remember him, kiddies? Georgie Bush was going to kick his sorry ass about, well, er, uh, sometime, a few years ago, but never mind.) Osama’s number two, supposedly trapped in the mountainous region of Wana, was going to be brought home, trussed like a dead deer on the hood of a Hummer. A week later, it was no shock to learn that Osama’s boy had high-tailed it to safety (if indeed he was in the same zip code), using, get this — it’s a real novelty over there — hidden caves and tunnels. Whoops! Rummy 155, Journalism 0.)

DISSING THE LATINO PRESS?

There was an interesting editorial in the March 19 issue of Providence En Espanol, the Spanish-language papers. According to the weekly, Roberto Taboada, a reporter for the paper, approached Marta Martinez, the Carcieri administration’s pick to revive the Governor’s Commission of Hispanic Affairs. He sought information about the initiative that would "allow us to review their steps and accomplishments made in the name of the Latino community in Rhode Island."

The editorial goes on to describe what it calls "an insulting, unprofessional, and unethical answer" that Taboada received from Martinez after he inquired about the commission’s work. Here is Martinez’s e-mail reply to Taboada, as published in the March 19 issue of Providence en Espanol:

I have been advised to not provide you with old information about the Hispanic Commission. Instead, we recommend that you focus on the present and future, and what will be accomplished by the Commission’s new members under Governor Carcieri’s administration. I mentioned to you in the past that I am not interested in providing information for a negative story and to add to any misconceptions about the work of the Hispanic Commission (what have we accomplished and what have we not accomplished). I will invite you to a press conference in the next few weeks when we announce the commission’s agenda. I hope you understand we are looking forward to a positive year and not to rehashing the past. I will therefore not be able to give you any information next Wednesday, so please do not waste your time by coming to my office to look for any more information. Thank you and I expect that you will write a positive story about the [Cesar] Chavez breakfast as well.

CAUGHT IN 'GANSETT

Does it get any better than Providence Municipal Court Chief Judge Frank Caprio, host of the TV show, Caught in Providence, getting popped for dodging zoning oversight for renovations to his guesthouse in Narragansett? In addition to his TV turn, Caprio co-owns the Coast Guard House restaurant in Narragansett and Casey’s Grill & Bar in South Kingstown, and is the chairman of the Rhode Island Board of Governors for Higher Education, so one doesn’t expect a successful businessman and public service to offer a plea of ignorance. Yet this was what Caprio, known for putting down similar lame excuses from transgressors on Caught, offered for the oversight.

When Caprio’s lawyer expressed his belief that the judge didn’t need a permit, the response, as the Urinal reported, didn’t even pass the laugh test of the locals: "When a reporter repeated [Caprio’s lawyer’s] comments to [Narragansett] Planning Director Clarkson A. Collins, Collins laughed. ‘What? . . . Come on,’ Collins said. ‘Anything that requires any electricity needs an electrical permit. Plumbing [requires] a plumbing permit. Any increase in the size of a building . . . you need a building permit for just about anything. You even need one for a garden shed.’ "

And get that broken headlight fixed while you’re at it, Judge. Next case.

CIAO, MUFFY

Your superior correspondents well remember the weeks after former Secretary of State Susan L. Farmer was first appointed as head ramrod of what is now known as RI PBS, aka WSBE-TV (Channel 36), the Biggest Little’s public television station. This came on the heels of her loss to Richard Licht in the race for lieutenant governor, and the selection, by former Governor Ed "Gerber Babe" DiPrete, was largely considered payback for making the run.

P&J noted at the time that, regardless of why DiPrete named Farmer (someone who, as critics were keen to point out, had no telecommunications experience), this was a very good appointment, indeed. The fact is that Farmer had plenty of administrative experience. When one considered the fiscal woes at 36, what it really needed was not a "telecommunications specialist" (who would likely throw up his or her hands in frustration at the immensity of the task of running a near-bankrupt operation), but someone who knew how to raise both money and spirits. We believe history has shown us to be correct. We are sure that Channel 36 would either not exist or be a minor "poor sister" satellite of Boston’s WGBH (Channel 2) if it wasn’t for the Susan Farmer’s talent and efforts. (Disclosure: Susan has been a good friend of P&J’s for many years, and, in fact, was the prime mover behind a Susan Farmer/Phillipe & Jorge Bowling Tournament held at the old Lang’s Bowl-a-Rama in Cranston for a few years in the mid-1980s to benefit the Fund for Community Progress.)

We wish her the best. She has been an inspirational figure (and, not coincidentally, is a lot of laughs to hang out with), and deserves all the accolades tossed her way since she announced her retirement last week. We hope that Vo Dilunduhs appreciate her many contributions to this state. "Muffy" has always been one of the true class acts.

R.I.P.

Flags at Casa Diablo are once again at half-staff in mourning, for our old friend Jerry Good, who passed away at home last Thursday, March 18. Jerry was a chef at a number of local restaurants here in La Prov for more than 30 years, most memorably for your superior correspondents at Rector’s on South Main Street, where Jerry always kept spirits high with his infectious good humor and big heart. Jerry smiled a lot and it was virtually impossible for others not to do likewise when they saw him coming. We send along our condolences to his family and many other friends.

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