Saturday, December 30, 2006

Saddam Hussein Is Dead. Is Anybody Out There Sorry?

The madman Saddam Hussein is dead. Yes, this iron fisted dictator received his just desserts when a few days ago he was hung by the neck for the genocide of 180,000 Iraqi Kurds. He was also responsible for exterminating 150 Shite Muslims. Hussein looked a blind eye when his two psychotic sons captured women off the streets and raped them as a twisted way of getting kicks. Hussein was ruthless. He was an evil man. There was no humanity inside of him whatsoever.

I realize his followers will make a martyr out of him. These blockheads, through warped logic and brainwashed thinking, will remember this despicable imitation of a human being as a their brave and noble leader. Well let 'em have their illusions. When all is said and done, history will tell the real story of Saddam Husein and that's all that matters in the grand scheme of things.

Now to go after Osama Bin Laden and assassinate him. It's a sad fact to admit this, but only through force and only through the death of Bin Laden can we show the al-Quada just how serious we are in trying to stop them . The only language that group of terrorists understands is fear. And if that's what it takes to cease the killings of innocent people and the destruction of cities; then so be it.


My Tribute to James Brown.


In the world of entertainment, certain words are usually bandied about when describing an entertainer. The music industry uses terms such as genius, icon and innovator with such frequency that these very words lose some of their impact as well as their meaning. However, those three words aptly decscribe the late James Brown. James Brown died early Christmas morning of congestive heart failure and the world of music lost one of it's giants.

Whether it's soul, r&b, rap or hip hop; all of these musical genres owes a huge debt to Brown because he was an inovator. As the Godfather of Soul, Brown definitely has earned the mantle of icon. For fifty years, he has shaped the musical landscape, even if the soul, rap,r&b and hip hop genre isn't your particular cup of musical tea. And although the word"genius" is casually tossed about whenever music critics are at a loss for the right acolade to describe a singer or musician , all one has to do is examine the man's body of work to see how the appellation fits Brown like a glove.

I must confess that as a teenager I didn't particularly care for James Browns music. I was grooving to the sounds of The Beatles, Iron Butterfly, Uriah Heap and other rock and roll bands. His brand of music didn't move me in the slightest. Then in 1973 at the age of eighteen, I witnesed a revelation . A movie called THE TA.M.I SHOW appeared on late night television and as I watched Brown performing a song called Please. Please. Please., his prowess as a performer almost knocked me out of my chair. His vocal style. His dance moves. When Brown had finished the song,I had a new found respect for both the man and his music. That night I realized why James Brown was called The Hardest Working Man In Show Business.

Now, after almost fifty years of wowing audiences the world over, James Brown, The Godfather of Soul will now go on to his final reward, while his legacy remains with us for generations to come. He shall now take his rightful place as one of music's Immortal Legends.


Friday, December 29, 2006

The Continuing Story of Gina and Lori

During an article I wrote concerning abortion, I mentioned two ladies (if you can call them by that term) named Gina and Lori who used to come into the GNC ( General Nutrition Center) store I managed. I didn't go into my entire association with them because I didn't want to stray too far away from my topic. However, I thought now would be a good time to tell the rest of the story.

As I mentioned before, Gina was an obnoxious, abrasive, in- your- face women who hurled acidic insults at me whenever she and Lori came into my store. I got the none too subtle impression she thought of herself as a hysterically funny person; a female Don Rickles. Unfortunately, she was sadly mistaken on that point. Except for her best friend Lori, who laughed raucously at Gina's tasteless, lame brand of comedy, no one else who visited my store considered her to be God's gift to comedy either.

Both ladies were high school dropouts. And while Lori was attending a city funded continuing education program, Gina was trying to enlist in the Army. Gina's problem was,as the recruiter told her in no uncertain terms, before entering the armed forces, she have to get her G.E.D as well as shed thirty pounds. After much foot dragging Gina finally earned her G.E.D, but losing the prerequisite weight was a feat she just couldn't achieve. She would joke about being cursed with a slow metabolism.But the more obvious reason was her love of doughnuts. Everyday I saw her carrying a bag of freshly baked sweets she purchased from a bakery located a block away from my store. Gina never offered anybody one of her precious powdered treats. Not even Lori whom she referred to as" My dearest friend."

I always found this particular dynamic to their supposed deep and abiding friendship rather amusing.One day, I saw them walking together down the street. Gina's beloved bag of doughnuts was held on the right of her as Lori walked on the left side. Suddenly, Lori noticed an expensive pair of shoes in the display window of a fashionable women's clothing store and walked around Gina to get a better look at them. Immediately, Gina quickly moved the bag to her left side. I watched the entire incident from my store shaking my head in disbelief. Gina could not bear to part with one miserable,measly doughnut and offer it to her" Dearest friend." Yet, at the same time, she was also annal enough to wonder why it was so difficult for her to lose any weight.

Eventually, I found a better paying job with good benefits which meant leaving GNC, the abrasive Gina and her synchophant friend Lori far, far behind. About two years later I ran into Gina. Although I attempted to avoid eye contact with her and beat a hasty retreat before any words could be exchanged. Gina( unfortunately for me) recognized me and I was lulled into a narcoleptic stupor with tales of her so called life. Poor Gina still couldn't get the Army to take her into their fold; she remained thirty pounds overweight. The recruiter finally laid down the law telling Gina it had been two years and that until she got serious about joining the Army, buckled down and lost the weight not to waste her time.

Gina was also jealous because Lori had graduated with a degree in electronics, which meant that she was enjoying a career while Gina was still drifting. She was mad. She was bitter. Gina felt life was passing her by while blinded to the fact it wasn't bad luck or cruel fate that befell her; it was poor decision making which proved to be her undoing.

As for Gina's one woman peanut gallery, I found her working at a local mall as the manager/machine repair person of a video arcade. We were having a pleasant conversation(Gina wasn't there) when all of the sudden Lori noticed a group of teenage girls dressed provocatively and began a tirade about how they dressed like "little whores". This coming from a woman who once bragged about the sexy outfits she wore to the clubs and the variety of "one night stands" she enjoyed. Now all of the sudden Lori is the Queen of Morality? As the saying goes," People who live in glass houses should get dressed in the basement." Or is it " shouldn't throw stones "? Anyhoo, even if Lori had gone through a moral rebirth,so to speak, because of her past she had no right to be anybody's judge and jury. But I held my tongue and said nothing. I knew I'd be talking to a brick wall in any event.