Red Hot Chili Peppers - Snow ((Hey Oh))

soft rock rules...

Nixon Re-Dux

Executive privilege is a dangerous piece of law in American life.

President Bush, sounding more and more like a batty Richard Nixon, is now calling on this cancerous legislation in his refusal to let the man who created him, Karl Rove, testify in a messy political story.

"We will not go along with a partisan fishing expedition aimed at honourable public servants."

Leave us not forget what Shakespeare's Marc Antony had to offer about "honourable men."

The Justice department fired eight U.S. Attorneys last December. Numerous documents, including e-mails, suggest that Mr. Rove, Bush's puppet-master, and Attorney-general Alberto Gonzales were both at the head of these firings and that the entire order was completely political. Friends and enemies stuff, as usual.

How can Congress hold a President accountable? How can parliament hold a Prime Minister accountable? These are not cavalier questions. They go to the heart of our democracies.

David Iglesias was one of the eight fired U.S. Attorneys. Read his comments in today's New York Times and then tell us again what a great president is Mr. Bush.

The Federal Budget

Huh?

MOVIE TIMES TWO

It's not often that we get to see two movies released in the same year, telling the same story, with the same real-life characters, and two entirely different casts of actors and producers.

Such was the case over the past 18 months with Capote and Infamous.

Both are excellent films telling and re-telling the tale of American writer Truman Capote's obsession with the murder of the Clutter family in rural Kansas. Capote was already the toast of New York literary society for, among other things, "Breakfast at Tiffany's," when he found himself drawn to Holcomb to research the effect a gruesome murder might have on a small American town.

The result was "In Cold Blood."

That book was itself made into an extraordinary film in 1967, in which the part of Perry Smith, one of the 2 killers, was played to chilling and powerful and strangely sympathetic effect by Robert Blake, a movie actor for almost 70 years, who was himself recently charged (and acquitted) with murder.

"Capote" was nominated for 5 Academy Awards; "Infamous" for none. Philip Seymour Hoffman won the Oscar for the title role, predictably and deservedly so. Toby Jones, an actor who looks curiously almost identical to Mr. Capote, and who was first-rate as a supporting player in "The Painted Veil, is also quite wonderful in "Infamous."

But, whether it is the direction or the whole tone of this second movie or that Mr. Jones, as good as he is, simply does not have the chops that Mr. Hoffman so obviously does, his portrayal doesn't have the weight that the Oscar-winner does.

In Capote, Catherine Keener plays Harper Lee, Capote's good friend and the author of the iconic "To Kill a Mockingbird," and she's terrific. But so is Sandra Bullock playing the exact same role in "Infamous." With no make-up and subdued speech and movements, Bullock gives one of her very best, and entirely unheralded, performances.

Then, you can compare and reach your own conclusions about Chris Cooper vs. Jeff Daniels as Alvin Dewey, the local cop. I think Jeff Daniel's is a superior actor with a much broader range than Mr. Cooper, and I'm often amazed at what he brings to the party. Remember that this is the guy who stood toe-to-toe with Jim Carrey in "Dumb & Dumber."

John Forsythe, who achieved household fame for "Charlie's Angels," may have been the best Alvin Dewey in "In Cold Blood," 40 years ago.

The most astonishing casting, however, is James Bond - Daniel Craig - as Perry Smith. This performance alone is worth the rental fee. You'll be surprised.

Most of you have seen "Capote." Take a night off and rent "Infamous," for the curious but rewarding experience of "deja...what-a-minute!"

Being jewish Yair Nitzani

This is wonderfully politically incorrect...and hysterically funny!

Life is a Cabaret!

Long before Liza became a cartoon of herself, she was a gifted performer.

Here she is from the movie with the equally brilliant Michael York and Joel Grey.

THE SMALL PICTURE

Listen to wallet-weary Canadians kvetching about the price of gas.

It's a riot of self-serving blindness and ignorance. Canadians think that the oil companies are "gouging," and that the government should intervene. We always want the government to stay out of our affairs until we feel diminished in some way, and then we insist "they" come to our rescue.

Shell and Exxon have been amongst the worst offenders world wide for a great many years in terms of their corporate citizenship. All over Africa, for example, billions of barrels of crude oil are shipped and piped and billions of dollars are being made, while the local people, far from benefiting from the good fortunes in their own backyards and on their own shores, are placed in ever more desperate and deplorable human conditions.

When it comes to oil, the words exploration and exploitation are almost interchangeable.

Now, you Canuckleheads expect the captains of oil to be concerned with the price at 41st and Arbutus? Give your SUV a shake. Stab yourself with a fork. Try checking into Reality for a change.

Who You Callin' Drunk & Dishorderly?

4-3-2

These are the various a.m. closing hours that Vancouver City Council, in its customary clarity of purpose, has allowed for Granville Street bars. Now, to its astonishment, there are unruly drunks falling out of every little over-serving, irresponsible hole in town.

What is truly amusing now is to hear the bar owners themselves bleating that"something must be done." Aren't these the good folks who have been lobbying so consistently to have their swill palaces open as late as possible? Any good drunk knows the beauty of a morning pick-me-up before heading back to the rigors of working for a living.

"I hate mob violence. Hell, I'll kill to prevent mob violence!'

Here's that rainy day--http://brunello.interfree.it/

fabulous Jimmy Van Huesen tune....

The Master Planner?

Is George Bush an undiscovered genius?

Or is he even more of a bumbling, Clouseauvian oaf than we ever imagined?

Iran, the sworn enemy of America, is now THE main supplier of everything from shoe polish to refrigerators to bank buildings in Iraq. So says today's New York Times.

Please read that article and explain to me if this is part of Mr. Bush's secret machinations, or, yet another unintended result of a program based on total ignorance.

Either way, not is all what it seems...

Blockhead Quebec

Just when you thought it was safe to live in Canada...

Andre Boisclair is the leader of the Parti Quebecois and he is facing an election.

He is also a racist fool, unrepentant, and undeserving of holding office in Canada or any other civilized nation.

Here is what he said the other day, talking about his one year of study at Harvard University, where apparently he learned very little:

"When I was in Boston I was surprised to see that on campus about one-third of the students doing their bachelor's degrees had slanting eyes."

Nice.

When I was a kid, growing up in Winnipeg, orientals were pejoratively called "slants." If you were an ignoramus and you felt you had gained the upper hand in a bargaining, you said, "I Jewed him down."

Very few of us outside La Belle Province have had much sympathy for the Parti Quebecois over the years. Now, Monsieur Boisclair has done us all a favor and confirmed our worst suspicions.

Drop this guy, toute suite.

Moving Story

And from the Department of In Case You Missed it, comes this tail, er, tale.

An idiot and his equally qualified wife go to the annual Sex Show. They buy products.

Idiot then has 10 beers and several cocktails.

Now he gets into his car and heads home along Highway One to Langley. (Shouldn't there be some law against Valley Folk coming into the Big City more than once a year?)

Wife wants to look at the vibrator they bought, but can't get the package open.

Hubbie, the genius behind the wheel, fights with the plastic packaging while driving and then, in a stroke of sheer brilliance, inserts the batteries...while driving.

Farmer Brown's Little Woman decides that now that her new toy is fully manned and operative, she'll give it a little spin.

The idiot's defense in court yesterday for his impaired driving charge is that he was distracted by his wife trying out her new vibrator.

You cannot write material like this. It just falls out of the sky.

Millions of people have had sex in automobiles, including moving automobiles. Imagine being a failure at even that!

Tony Bennett and Stevie Wonder - For Once in my life

Tony originally found this great song and recorded it, but Stevie heard it and recorded it in a big up-tempo as-only-Stevie-can-do-it way and it went through the roof.

Now, here they are together singing live as they do on the "Duets" album.

Is this one of the great collaborations or what?

LEGALLY BLOND

Vancouver City Councillor, Kim Capri, who like most of her colleagues, voted against giving the police more manpower (Can we say such a thing these days without the Policewomen's League putting us in handcuffs?), has now taken to doing "ride-abouts" with the cops. And lo! She has found - wait for it - that people who fall out of bars late at night sometimes PEE AND FIGHT IN THE STREET!!!

Never saw a western movie.

Never stayed for an extra barley sandwich after closing.

Never, apparently, left her front lawn before now.

And, gosh, now that she's seen the yellow light, something's just got to be done, to be done, to be done, done, done.

How do these folks get elected? And what happens to them the day after they are elected?

Meanwhile...in the capital city of Oz...

Auditor-general, Arn van Iersel, is afraid to go to his office because there are addicts and homeless people shooting up and fornicating right there in public in Bastion Square.

Doesn't Arn see the march of Human Progress here? Usually, addicts are too stoned to screw.

Well here are the solutions for Kimmie Bear and Arn.

For Kim, just keep giving the bars all the possible leeway you can to pour all the bad hooch at all the idiots they can for as late into the wee hours as you and your council will allow.

And for Arn, just import Vancouver's progressive mentality and give the poor addicts some free and better quality stuff every morning so they'll go back to being too stoned to do the other thing.

You see how easy this all is when we can all agree on "an integrated approach?

VANOC BLUES...and REDS...and GREENS

Yesterday, I was walking along Hornby street midday, heading in the general direction of the Hotel Vancouver.

My mother – may she rest in peace – taught me many years ago that the biggest, best hotel in town is always the best place a) for a cup of coffee, and b) for a pee. Although, pay special attention to not getting these missions confused one with the other. I highly recommend the Danieli in Venice. You just stroll right in like you’re paying 1700 euros a night for a canal view, through the mahogany and glass rotating door, past the front desk and the main lounge on the left and straight into the back hall. The bathrooms are all marble and fine towels. Make sure you smile at the concierge on the way out and mumble a deep-throated “Signore,” as you head back onto the Riva Della Schiavoni. (above)

So, I’m walking along Hornby and these two geniuses next to me are discussing the great inconvenience and apparent horror of those dirty, messy people who have been protesting the Olympic clock.

“Put a sniper up there. That’s all you have to do.”

Tops in citizenship, yep. Let’s get this guy his award.

Meanwhile…

VANOC and all its familiar faces are finding themselves on the road to Damascus. Suddenly, after spending untold millions of taxpayers’ dollars, it has come to these otherwise bright fellows that perhaps, just perhaps, they might expose their daily machinations to the great unwashed. “Transparency,” “openness, “ these have become the new watchwords. Why, the teachers and ditch diggers and latte makers might want some inkling on how their hard earned wages are actually being spent on the Big Snow Party. Imagine, the nerve!

O.K. Let’s talk about that. Let’s hunker down – in camera, of course – and figure out when and how we might open the pig pen. Being careful, of course, not to let in those protesters or any other nasties.

We now await humbly and with baited breath for their benevolence.

Meanwhile…

The Prime Minister wheels into town, and in a big public display, accompanied by the Preem, he announces scads of taxpayers’ money for reducing the emissions of greenhouse gasses. So far so good.

But, wait. An Oddity. There will be a demonstration project called “the hydrogen highway.” No, this will not be a place where addicts will suck hydrogen in replacement for their usual poison. No, this will be a place where cars can tank up on hydrogen for their new “green” cars. O.K. But here’s the oddity. The project is located…wait for it…between Vancouver and Whistler!

Vancouver and Whistler, uhuh. Any particular reason for this choice? How about Highway One between here and Hope, or twelve other locations?

Can you say, “Big Snow Party,” kids?

FASHION FLASH!

We post this as a matter of High Cultural importance!

Get with the program, Bunky!

COMING SOON TO A WALMART NEAR YOU !!!
What you see here are not see-thru skirts. They are actually prints on the skirts to make it look as if the panties are visible and these are the current rage in Japan. They'll be the rage here in the USA soon. I forward this as a public service, so you won't have a heart attack when the rage reaches the USA.

No wonder Wal-Mart is doing so well!

What's in a Word?

Why I associate local politician John Reynolds with the Tintoretto exhibit currently in view in the Prado I have no idea. But lucky for you, eh? How else would I have found an excuse to show you the master's St. Mary Magdelen opposite?

Tintoretto is one of the Famous Five of Venetian fame (Titian, Veronese and ???). As far as we know, he hardly ever left town. How could he? He was painting practically every surface he could find - walls, ceilings, floors, stairs. If you never go anywhere else to look at Renaissance art, go for sure to the Scuola Grande di San Rocco in Venice and have your mind utterly boggled by the genius and scope and sheer output of this fellow.

If nothing else, such a visit will allow you to forget for a grateful moment the silliness and skulduggery of the current shenanigans in Our Town.

Why - many have been asking - are two "retired" politicians, John Reynolds and Joy McPhail, making the media rounds and stumping for His Peculiarness, The Mayor of Vancouver, in aid of his utterly destructive program of replacing pills for heroin shots and coke snorts? Why indeed.

Now, it has been suggested by those so much more cynical than I that the answer is the oldest answer in the books - money. Moreover, some have had the gall to suggest that Dr. Strangelove has enlisted the financial help of a somewhat shady character, who is currently under investigation for internet fraud, to fund the famously badly named "Inner Change" program. (How giving a dope fiend one substitute drug for another can be imagined as effecting "inner change" is a mysterious leap that most of us are unwilling or unable to make.)

Then, this morning, to our immense entertainment comes a feature in The Daily Rag in which Mr. Reynolds makes a very strong point of declaring that he is not a lobbyist, that he hasn't broken any post-Member of Parliament promises, and that "I am not making a penny out of this."

You are all entitled to believe what you will.

But some questions are worth consideration.

Why and when and how did Mr. Reynolds and Ms. McPhail suddenly develop such strong interests in drug programs, when, in both their long and storied political careers, neither showed any such interest?

Doesn't Ms. McPhail spend most of her days and nights in Los Angeles of late with her husband, the Movie Maker? Why this? Why now? Why here?

There are many more layers of paint behind these curious pictures, boys and girls. Perhaps some day a restoration expert will be brought to the Truth.

A Love Supreme

Now this is the piece I tried several times yesterday without success to post. It's not Coltrane his true self, but Branford is pretty darn good in his own right and the sound quality is, of course, superior.

John Coltrane -' My Favourite Things'

Today is the birthday of THE definitive sax player. And this is one of my favorite things of all time. 'Trane takes a deceptively simple folk melody by Rogers and Hammerstein and changing it into a modal composition, he transforms the piece into something unforgettable.

Heart of My Heart

The news today is entirely personal.

At 9 o'clock this morning, I was on a treadmill at UBC's cardiology department. I lasted 14 minutes with steadily increasing pace and elevation and got my heart rate up to 142 beats per minute. This is a lot more than my customary 57 or 60 at rest.

All of this in aid of my semi-annual "stress test," which is necessitated by what is laughingly called "an episode" in June 2005. The episode (chest, shoulder, throat and lower jaw pains) was a textbook case of angina and that resulted in the inevitable angiogram and angioplasty. The latter is the now almost routine procedure in which a "stent" is inserted into a plaque-blocked artery. The day I had my operation, 20 more such procedures were performed at Vancouver General alone.

I "passed" today's test with flying colors, as they say. No hitches, glitches or sudden spikes on the pages of red and grey print-out graph.

I've now made a commitment to go back on a "statin" drug. I've been advised that my excellent diet and disciplined exercise regimen is doing all it reasonably can to lower my "bad" cholesterol, and that only such medication will really aid in getting the numbers to the lower levels I should have.

Such is life.

Twenty or so years ago, all of the above would have statistically been a fairly immediate death sentence.

With luck and good food and those regular walks and swims and bike rides and tennis games and the first rate attention of Dr. Izzerow and his gang, I might just last another 20 years or more.

But, no fear.

I'll still be the cranky, miserable s.o.b. I've always been. Nothing beats consistency.