Reform-atory school

Good news . . . but we're still not there yet. The short version reads, "Tom Corbett, you're a douchebag," but I thought this might carry more weight.

To Attorney General, Tom Corbett, Pennsylvania:

Dear Mr. Corbett,

I understand that the Attorney General's Office is considering filing suit to block healthcare insurance reform legislation, in the process of being signed into law at the federal level.

I certainly hope it does not come to this. I think the legislation is a landmark effort at instituting much-needed reform, putting restrictions on insurance companies from predatory practices--something that, in theory, I think you would support (the restrictions, that is). In addition, it adds greatly needed coverage for all Pennsylvanians and strives to cut skyrocketing healthcare costs.

I fail to understand this weak argument, apparently Republican or Tea Party in nature, that this legislation infringes on states' rights. I thought we settled that issue in 1865. I can't see how this idea betters our country. Trust me, having grown up in a region known for flogging that old (Civil) warhorse, I don't think any of us want to go down that path, legally or morally.

Regardless, if you choose to follow through with this suit, I hope you will do so with consistency and file suit against accepting Medicare, Medicaid, military recruitment, highway safety laws, civil rights legislation, and any number of national legislative efforts that impact Pennsylvania and its citizenry.

Surely you can agree that as an attorney, consistency is important, no matter how unpopular it might be during an election year.

Kind regards,

Tim Winni,
Pittsburgh, PA

Paper or plastic?

I was innocently minding my own business, simply catching up on older mail in my Bloglines RSS feeder, when I discovered this item available via MSNBC, dated October 9, 2007:

Brain found in bag near Va. apartments

Unclear if it's human or animal, police say; awaiting word from examiner

That's quite a find! I'm still not sure how it turned out, but whether animal or human, a brain in a bag is not your usual home-from-a-day-of-shopping-at-the-mall kind of treasure.

Nevertheless, it's not much a mystery to me. I'm sure a quick cross-reference with the Congressional Record or the daily newspapers would reveal that the President himself had indeed been at a barbecue/pool party that weekend at that very apartment complex. One of his now-divorced frat buddies--now living single in an apartment complex (a Whispering Pines, a Mistyfield Ponds, a Heatherview Mews, if you will) near the airport, because don't you know, he's in sales and has to travel a lot--had the Prez and some of their good ol' boys over for a few beers. They fired up the smoker, got comfortable with a few cold ones, let their cares slip away while they watched the game (the Cowboys of course!), and next thing you know, His Serene Cokeheadedness has stuck his brain in a bag for safe-keeping. Wouldn't want to get it dirty or scuffed up. Most definitely wouldn't want to wrinkle it.

Not in a grocery bag, I suspect. Not even in a brown paper lunch bag. No, more likely in one of those tiny, plastic snack bags ("fun size" perhaps) you mistakenly buy at the Giant Eagle, thinking its a full-sized sandwich bag.

And then he went and got distracted, thinking up new nicknames for his buds (Brownie is now Katrina, Rummy is now Resigned, and Dick . . . well, he's still a Dick) and forgot all about it. Kinda like his whereabouts and daily routine during his alleged service in the Alabama Air National Guard in the middle of that other regional conflict.

Of course, I could prove this conjecture, or at the very least, make it sound more plausible, at least as plausible as any argument against Western Civilization as made by Glenn Beck or Rush Limbaugh (who kinda look like they could be our Ill Douché's frat brothers, come to think of it), but I'm just too lazy. Too lazy to search the Congressional Record and too lazy to come up with something other than a cheap laugh at Our Fearless Leader's expense.

But, hey, if'n you're too chintzy to pay for healthcare for non-insured, sick children (why not just kick some puppies instead? or send some orphans to the alms house?), then all ya deserve is a cheap laugh, bubba.

Now where did I put that lightning rod?

Reported via MSNBC.com on Sunday, 29 July 2007:

"Man says lightning found him again"

A Pennsylvania man says he survived his second lightning strike Friday — 27 years to the day of his first — and emerged a bit shaken with only a burned zipper and a hole in the back of his jeans.

You can read the full article here.

Some things are better left unsaid, such as explicit references to high-fiber diets or easier, more Food and Drug Administration-approved methods of overcoming erectile dysfunction. Some things just stand up on their own (as it were) without any further encouragement or (no, really) comment.

But, honestly, do the gods atop Mount Olympus come up with this stuff just to drive me up a rock wall of crushing puns and jagged reflections? My pebble-sized brain aches from the smutty outcropping of possibilities. Oh, I so want to be good, but the world won't let me.

Funnily enough, the cartoon series Lil' Bush went out on a ledge with a similar gag in a recent episode. Lil' Barack Obama explains to Lil' George that there are ghosts in the White House attic, including one of Benjamin Franklin, who was killed while trying to discover an early form of Viagra involving lightning, a kite, and a key on a string.

Again, some things are better left to the imagination . . . or Comedy Central . . . or wire service reporters with a penchant for hey!-lookit!-another-stupid-human-trick! details.