Obama Presses the Flesh

Obama and the Walmericans

On a recent outing to feel the pulse of America, President Obama mingles with the masses. He might have been better received if he’d forgone the casual button down shirt for a dirty wifebeater. A moment after this photo was taken the man pictured called a friend to share his experience. Unfortunately, the man was still talking to the president at the time. Awkward as it was the conversation was recorded, thankfully.

“Hey man, it’s Dale. Yeah, man. No shit? Hang on a sec, Mr. President. I got my buddy Terry on the other line. He’s watching us on CNN. Yeah man, sorry, go ahead. No shit!  That’s hilarious. Record it, dude. Yeah, he’s right here. Yeah man, he totally saw it. He was all like asking about some Japanese dude named Hokusai or some shit. No, man, I told him for reals. I was all like ‘Dude, my buddy Terry did this ink at his shop right here in Jersey. He was all like ‘Whatever’, but then he was cool. Said he liked it. Dude, don’t swell up on that shit, he obviously don’t know jack about tats. Yeah, that’s crazy shit, man. Yeah, that’s Diane. Dude, we hooked up last night. Dude, Obama keeps staring at her dog chain. It’s hilarious. Is she really?! Oh my God your right she is! That’s hilarious. Hey, that reminds me, dude.  Can I get my nipples done next week? Dude, I totally should have done it when I was in there yesterday. Yeah, I know you told me to. Yeah, I know, they’d be all over national television right now. Dude, shut up about it! Damn! Listen dude, I gotta go. No, man, you pick that shit up yourself. I got the president right here, dude. Dude! I gotsta GO! Later. [Hangs up] Shit! Yo, sorry about that Mr. President. What were you saying?”

Moammar Superfly Gadaffi?

E.U. Darling - Colonel Mu'hammar Al Quedahffi (or whatever his name is)

I can remember when Moammar Gadaffi was Mu’hamar Al Quadaffi.  A much more threatening spelling to 1980 American sensibilities. A name worthy of a makeover.  Just as in the aftermath of the Sept. 11 attacks, we finally paid enough attention to Al Queda  to figure out a standard spelling for its leader Osama Bin Laden.  Remember Usama Bin Ladden and all the other derivatives?   Gadaffi got a nice titular tweak along with a wardrobe change, all to match his rapid foreign policy shift.  He’d realized that if he simply stopped bombing airliners, assassinating enemies on foreign soil, and cooking up chemical bombs and dirty nukes western leaders would not only forgive him, but literally welcome him to their dinner tables.  So, he chucked off the Colonel’s garb for a dashiki and a meatloaf of a hat, an outfit that screams jovial oil merchant rather than backwater butcher.  By the way, if you are a dictator of nation with a powerful military at your command, why would you only rise to rank of colonel?  General, at least!  Superior Majestic Overlord even?  Colonel? Come on! You can do better than that.  How about a name befitting his former, if never publicly acknowledged, glory: Superfly?  After all, it’s high time his secret was out. Moammar Gadaffi, Mu’hamar Al Quadaffi, The Colonel, The Nutcase, whatever you want to call him is in fact Jimmy Superfly Snuka.  Just when you thought it was safe to go back into North Africa.  Here’s the proof:

A younger, leaner Gadaffi dominated the wrestling world under the name Superfly Snuka

An older but equally intimidating Gadaffi

A far cry from his glory days for sure.

And just in case you thought the old Colonel wasn't still deadly.

Sarah Palin Retards the News

Sarah Palin is back in the news.  Not just Fox News either, we’re talking real news here.  She’s up in arms over Rahm Emanuel’s recent use of the word ‘retarded’.   Palin asked on her Facebook page, “Are you capable of decency, Rahm Emanuel?”  Rumor has it she is still sitting around waiting for his reply.  Speculation continues to circle as to why Palin is so upset.  Many suggest it is because she has a toddler with Down’s syndrome and she may find Emanuel’s comment offensive as ‘retarded’ is often used to stigmatize those with mental limitations.  Others wonder if she is not truly upset about the original meaning and usage of the word as cited here from http://www.dictionary.com:


[ri-tahrd, for 1–3]

–verb (used with object)

1. to make slow; delay the development or progress of (an action, process, etc.); hinder or impede.

–verb (used without object)

2. to be delayed.


3. a slowing down, diminution, or hindrance, as in a machine.

Perhaps she would find any of these personally offensive, especially definition numbers 1&3, as used in the following sentence examples:

1.  Sarah Palin retarded John McCain’s campaign machine with her ineptitude and general smarminess.

2.  Sarah Palin felt her meteoric ascendance to national infamy had irrevocably retarded her ability to govern the state of Alaska, so she quit.

3.  Fox News retards the progress of journalism each and every day, and now Sarah Palin has joined forces to help retard it even further.

4.  Fox News retards the thinking processes of countless Americans each and every day, and now Sarah Palin has joined forces to help retard them even further.

There is a growing campaign to do away with the derogatory use of the “R-word” – truly a worthwhile movement, long overdue.   Visit http://www.r-word.org and sign a pledge to not misuse the word.  However, it is a perfectly good word to use in the correct context, as in the examples above.  So put an end to the misuse of this word and bring back its proper usage.

A Quick and Easy Economic Fix – Tres bon!

I got some good news and I got some bad news. The good news is this “GLOBAL ECONOMICS CRISIS” is very easy to fix. The bad news is it will require us to use some French words. Watch the video below from our friend at http://www.socioecohistory.wordpress.com

Simple as that. Still not clear on how this works? How about some visuals that Americans find easy to comprehend? – people killing one another.

There you have it. Simple as that. Put on your berets and the most outrrrrrageous French accent you can muster and and say it with me – Force Majeure. No? Not going for it? Okay, let’s just be ridiculously obtuse and criticize the French undeservedly as we simply retitle this great idea. Let’s call it it Freedom Force.

Michael Savage is, was, and always will be a Weiner.

photo-michael-savageMichael Savage sells snakeoil under his real name, Michael Weiner.  Later, as Savage, he woud really sling the serpent’s venom.  

Michael Savage’s latest attempt at poetry conveys a deep-seeded schizophrenic mind that should be pitied rather than feared… or, better yet, simply ignored. 

Recently the third largest mouth on radio today treated his audience to an extended live mixing of his latest poem The Weathervane.  First he read it solo.  Then he read it to a cheesy hip-hop beat.  Then he read it to The Battle Hymn of the Republic.  He shouted to his sound tech to put it to “that song from Patton” sure that was the only song worthy of his eloquent yet powerful verse. 

 Savage’s poem is reminiscent of the “I Am” poems so popular in elementary schools across the country, designed to introduce youngsters to poetry.  From there it is a little more than a scrap book of famous historical figures Michael knows of (mostly from television shows and Department of Defense news reels, and of course the movie Patton) and admires – people he purports to be like.  If you can hum the Battle Hymn of the Republic as you read this, then here it is below, in all its glory and its truth is marching on. 



I am Moses.

I am Isaac.

I am Abraham.

I am Charlemagne.

I am John Wayne.

I am Coltrane.

 They try to suppress me, try to redress me,

Call me incorrect, deserving no respect.

I am Patton.

I am Hatton,

Even Mountbatten. 

I am Eisenhower,

Not a Wallflower.

I am Washington.

I am Pershing. 
I am MacArthur.

I am Kipling. 

I am Audie Murphy.

And I am Sky King.

I’ll steal your crown,

Trample you down,

Take your good name

And put it to shame.

 I am Gene Autry.

I am Roy Rogers.

I am Tom Mix.

They tried to push me over

The River Styx,

But it won’t mix

With my true blood,

Which runs thick for America.

 I am the bane

Of those vain. 

I am the Weathervane.


It is a list of strange paradoxes for the prodigious author.  A series of idealized war heroes from a man who dodged the draft during Vietnam.  When did his true blood run thick for America?  He is suppressed by whom?  The person whose crown he later vows to steal?  Kipling?  How did he make this list?  Unless Savage has identified with the “white raja” from The Man Who Would Be King.   

 Gene Autry and Roy Rogers?  pop-TV icons?  From a man who claims be (and once vainly attempted to be accepted by academia as) a robust, well-read intellectual?  For those not well-versed in obscurity Tom Mix was the first cowboy megastar up on the old silverscreen.  Sky King is an old radio/television adventure series from the 40s and 50s.  Nothing wrong with that per se but in such an historic line up he might as well have put Lassie next to Lincoln.  As for “Hatton” I can only guess that he means Ricky Hatton who was just KO’d recently by Philippine sensation Manny Pacquiao.  Perhaps this is meant as a reference to his predilection to fight minorities even if it means a brutal defeat.  Hey, maybe that’s why he threw in Kipling!  One more interesting tidbit here: “true blood” incidentally is a nod to his fictional hero and alter ego, Samuel Trueblood.  At Salon.com  David Gilson perfectly describes the piece.

“Vital Signs,” Michael Weiner’s first and only book of fiction, published in 1983. A collection of confessional, stream-of-consciousness stories, it follows the exploits of Samuel Trueblood, who just happens to be a 40-ish New York Jew, an herbalist and writer with a tumultuous personal life, a substantial assortment of inner demons and a bit of a Napoleon complex. “I am physically not tall, but my eyes burn with fire,” he states. “Two black fires of Hell.” Trueblood narrates a series of misadventures, from procuring an illegal backroom abortion for his fiancée to beating the stuffing out of an abusive cop.

Trueblood describes his life as one long search for inner peace. He blames much of his discontent on his “childhood beneath tyranny,” during which he was cowed by his bullying father. Trueblood describes how his father mocked him with “brutal jokes and chides, ‘gentle’ kidding: ‘You’re not a fag, are you Sam?’ the little man would say each time the boy dared wear a colorful shirt or flashy trousers.” Unable to shake his dead father’s disapproving influence, the adult Samuel is tortured by feelings of weakness and inadequacy. “I am filled with fears,” he admits, “nearly all the time feeling I am about to become totally insane.”

Now I am wondering why Savage didn’t insert a more honest “I am Samuel” into his sophomoric poem. 


It is unclear who “they” are who tried to push the Weathervane over the River Styx.  Maybe Phlegyas or Charon the boatman.  Perhaps it was simply because Charon did not want Savage in his boat they tried to throw him over.  Perhaps he meant the river personified by the ancient nymph named Styx.  Her name literally meant hateful in which case I believe “they” succeeded not in throwing Savage over the river but rather squarely atop the hateful nymph.  For after a little research it became obvious that Michael Savage did undergo an otherworldly transformation in his life.  Perhaps he did meet Charon the boatman, perhaps he did cross to the other side.  If so, there is no doubt he came back altered.  “Redressed” perhaps?

 How else could a man go from writing books under his real name, Michael Weiner with titles like Plant a Tree; Earth Medicine, Earth Food and Healing Children Naturally to a guy named Michael Savage writing books with titles like The Death of the White Male; The Enemy Within and Liberalism Is a Mental Disorder?  Well, clearly it would be more easily understood if he in fact had the mental disorder, which his poem above indicates he does.  Especially when compared to the “heroes” he likened himself to as Michael Weiner. 


His own history reads like The Seven Faces of Eve.  His life twists from one paradox to the next.  A frustrated poet turned acerbic critic.  A frustrated artist turned professional hater.  An accomplished anthropologist turned isolated misanthrope.  A holistic healer turned toxic shock jock.  As Michael Weiner, his “I Am” poem might look something more like this. 

 The Heather Vein. 

I am Ratu Sir Lala Sukuna

I am Margaret Mead

I am P.T. Barnum

I am Kerouac

I am Ginsberg

 They try to caress me,

They try to undress me.

I am not shy,

Just another guy. 

 I am John Garard.

I am the Galloping Gourmet,

Leaving preservatives out of the way. 

 I wear no shrowd.

I am proud,

I am

And my son 

Will be named after me

The Goldencloud.

I  am a Rockstar

At least it seems nice.

But the academics

Don’t think I suffice.

 I been burned up.

I been churned up.

I been yearning up.

For love and acceptance.

I want to be great.

I am not.

I am…

 I am not sure.

Maybe I will reinvent myself.

Or better yet, simply

Let loose the Other One.


Although this version doesn’t paint Michael Weiner-Savage as the most balanced either, combine the two and you might have a more accurate view of what is going on in this mixed up man’s mind.  For other evidence you can imply listen to his daily public therapy sessions which really seem to only compound his insanity or you could peruse the many books of Weiner-Savage.  

“I learned to calm the inner debate that had threatened to drown me in madness!”

 That was from his book Maximum Immunity – his book that truly presents his descent into madness.  It is here, in another supported herbal health book, where he really begins to spout his rage and fears. 

Here is Michael Weiner’s true blood in all its American Beauty:  “Inner voice screaming at me for years, first rational, then crazy, telling me to do mad things. Every form of relief tried, painting, psychotherapy, running, diet, vitamins, etc., etc. Almost uncontrollable now. Impulses to stab children, strangers, wife, self with scissors.”

 Gee, on second thought, he really might be Patton after all.  I mean most historians agree Patton was a sociopath.  Thankfully Savage doesn’t have a real army or a real objective, other than to hear his own voice and hear his listeners call in and fawn over “Doctor Savage”.  He has only a loyal horde of like-minded paranoids who feel less alone when they hear their poser of a hero erupt daily into his caterwauling tantrums.  Read this and they will know what a sham this guy really is: http://dir.salon.com/story/news/feature/2003/03/05/savage/index.html  After all, what is in a title?  What is in a name for that matter?  He may be called Doctor but he’ll always be just a loud-mouth putz (to use one of his favorite words).  He may be called Savage, and though it is an accurate adjective to describe the man, he will always be a Weiner.