I Don't Care Who Gets Embarrassed

As the investigation into the U.N. Oil-For-Food scandal intensifies, I can't believe how politically charged the news reporting is getting. These articles have undertones of "Take THAT, liberals. The UN that you love so much is more corrupt than Tammany Hall and that Clinton guy you've elevated to sainthood has blood on his hands." Yesterday's front-page article in the NY Post was especially atrocious, with the reporter calling Bill Clinton's pardon of Marc Rich "Pardongate" and making more references to the pardon than was probably necessary. Instead of telling us more about Rich, who he is and what he does, the reporter wasted too many paragraphs sketching out the relationship between Rich and the Clintons. And the fact that Rich allegedly did this stuff AFTER he was pardoned doesn't seem to deter the reporter from suggesting as many connections to the Clintons as possible - the pardon, the campaign gifts, etc. Let me be clear about this. I don't care whether Hillary and Bill cashed in a voucher themselves. Just find the people responsbile who benefitted illegally from Saddam's oil vouchers (whoever they may be), arrest them and bring them to trial. And recover as much of the money as possible.

Foreign government officials and rich folks in the U.S. alike profited from this situation illegally. I don't care who gets embarrassed by revelations of impropriety. Just identify the guilty parties and bring them to justice, preferably with a minimum of partisan gloating.

Home Depot's New Ad Campaign

I have a new tagline for The Home Depot. Well, maybe it's not new. In fact, it borrows from an old Lay's Potato Chip slogan: "No One Can Eat Just One." The Home Depot - Betcha Can't Go Just Once.

The task was simple. Install a new faucet in the bathroom. I've done this countless times and it's easy. (Unless you don't have all the parts you need.)

So I pull the old faucet and the sink basin is all corroded on the bottom and it's ready to go. So off to the Home Depot I go. I get a new sink and head back to the house.

Turns out the drain stem is 1 1/4" and the trap is 1 1/2". So back to the Home Depot I go. For a 99-cent washer.

Turns out the old trap is too short to reach the new drain stem. So back to the Home Depot I go. For a $1.99 length of pipe.

Turns out the new sink has no retention clips in the box. So back to the Home Dep- nah, fuck it. Everybody deal with it! I'm knocking off this gig to eat pistachio nuts and watch football.

Let's Change The FCC's Name

Since the vast, vast majority of the FCC's enforcement of indecency standards result from complaints from the Parents Television Council, I propose we change the name of the government agency in order to more accurately reflect what it is that they do. Perhaps we should call the FCC "the enforcement arm of the PTC" and make this the preferred term by which bloggers refer to it...

The MediaWeek story I reference above makes claims that FCC Chair Michael Powell might have been unaware of the source of the deluge of complaints. In that case, he deserves to be the permanent keeper of the Invisible Conceptual Idiot Baton. If it turns out he did know about this sad fact, he should resign (and quickly).

Johnny Mathis - Harbinger of Doom

This is why I didn't want to get out of bed this morning... Clock Radio goes off at 5 AM.

You are listening to Clear Channel's WALK-FM.

It's 50 degrees, rainy and gusty.

Here's Johnny Mathis.

[Johnny Mathis starts singing Christmas music]

I tapped snooze. WALK is the lamest "lite hits" station in the world. But since I snapped the antenna off my ancient clock radio, it's the only station that comes in clearly. And I need to wake up to the radio - for some reason, static or the alarm setting won't wake me up.

And, of course, Murphy's Law kicked in as soon as I got dressed for work. I left my rainjacket somewhere and couldn't find it, so I'm wearing a leather bomber jacket that's too small for me. As soon as I arrive at the train station, I exit my car and a wind gust turns my umbrella inside out, knocks my coffee out of my hand and sends my brand-new copy of Tom Wolfe's I Am Charlotte Simmons flying out of my hand and into a puddle.

Not a great start. Hopefully karma will fall back into balance this afternoon.