Live Blog at Dreamloom

We're going to do our first liveblog tonight at 10pm EDT of The Shield. If you're going to be watching, come on over and join us.

The Heart of Dorkness

It's almost not worth the physical effort to press the keys to debunk Stanley Kurtz and his anti-ACORN rant in the NYP yesterday. I've been swamped with work, writing, and getting the new site designed and launched, so I've been a bit behind on my reading. Didn't see this until I was sent a link to it. And...well...it's as crazy as anything you'd expect to read in the Post, or from Kurtz.

WHAT exactly does a "community organizer" do? Barack Obama's rise has left many Americans asking themselves that question. Here's a big part of the answer: Community organizers intimidate banks into making high-risk loans to customers with poor credit.

In the name of fairness to minorities, community organizers occupy private offices, chant inside bank lobbies, and confront executives at their homes - and thereby force financial institutions to direct hundreds of millions of dollars in mortgages to low-credit customers.

I'm sorry, did you think corporate greed was at the heart of our financial problems? You were wrong. It's a bunch of protesters in Chicago.

Kurtz argues that ACORN "forces" banks to make "bad loans" by intimidating and filing complaints against banks in non-compliance of the Community Reinvestment Act of 1977. Well, only those banks trying to expand (buy out smaller banks) or merge (be bought out by bigger banks.) Because that's the teeth in the CRA, preventing banks from getting bigger if they don't follow it.

Like most so-called free marketeers, Kurtz doesn't believe in a free market. He believes in one where corporations are free to do as they will and people are free to shut the fuck up, bend over, and not whine when their assholes bleed. But in a truly free market, people are free actors as well and ACORN is doing nothing but acting freely here.

You see, what Kurtz isn't saying is that any bank that didn't want to give out these allegedly bad loans did not have to. The only penalty? Not being able to gobble up smaller banks or be assimilated by larger ones. And that would be bad, why? Because small, community banks don't yield windfall profits for hedge fund managers? Because behemoths are somehow more efficient?

But that's good. Blame the community organizer for the financial collapse. Don't blame the Keating Five guy.

You know, now that I think about it, that was one of those times John Sidney crossed the aisle to work with Democrats. John Sidney was the only Republican member of the Keating Five.

What? The S&L crisis of the '80s has nothing to do with the collapse of today? Correct, but the endemic corporate greed that caused the former is the cause of the latter. Not community organizers. And a vote for John Sidney is a vote for corporate greed of the worst kind.

Launching a new Website

Ah no. Y'all aren't getting rid of this place that easily. This blog, with its haphazard mix of politics, humor, snark, and bile will remain exactly the way it is. But, with the maybe-demise of Pop Critics, I needed a place to write about television. And I want a huge audience. Like millions, baby. So please click on over to dream loom. It's raw and unpolished and doesn't have but two posts right now, but I'm looking to bring on a bunch of fellow writers and do some really interesting and innovative things to make it a much better user experience than so many other television sites. So come on over, take a look around, and be sure to read the welcome post and leave your comments. Thanks!

FSW: Morton's Executive Search

Okay. This week's topic is job hunting. Nice and straightforward in honor of my upcoming job switch. And *clearly* we can avoid politics tonight. Michael's got the call for next week, so don't forget to read his submission when he posts it to find out what next week's topic is. And of course, because his and Ken's will be funny as hell. If you want to play along with us, email a link to your entry to sketchwar at dreamloom.com. Morton's Executive Search

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

JANET, 30s slender and no-nonsense, enters and strides to the head of the table. She joins GARETH, 40s and tweedy, and EMILY, 20s and achingly hip.

JANET

Sorry I'm late. Dick's sister and kids are visiting. The baby cried half the night. What's on the agenda today?

GARETH

First up is a new position. I got the call right before coming in here. G.O. is in the market for a new CEO. This could be really big for us.

JANET

You're not kidding. Commission on that could run high six figures. Who've we got in the stable?

EMILY

(Shuffles a few files and reads from the first)

We've got a Columbia grad, Harvard Law, former state legislator and a few years in the Senate. He's really good in front of crowds. He'd be great calming the stockholders.

JANET

(Aghast)

You're kidding me, right? This isn't your local coffee house looking for a part-time manager for Poetry Slam Saturdays. This is one of the biggest companies in the world. Who else have we got.

Emily is chastened. Gareth grabs a file from her stack and reads.

GARETH

Alright. Someone a bit older and more seasoned. We've got an Annapolis grad, four-term Senator--

JANET

--Please! Again, let me remind you people. We're hiring for a Cee Eee Oh! Give me someone with some executive experience.

EMILY

Okay, I've got one. Two-term mayor of a small town, governor--

JANET

--Alright. Is that all you've got? Come on. G.O., people. G.O. is synonymous with high tech. They started Silicon Valley in their garage. Emily. When I say G.O., what do you think of?

EMILY

Well, I guess big-ticket high tech.

JANET

Exactly. And we need a CEO who under--

GARETH

--We don't.

JANET

We don't what?

GARETH

They told me they're looking to change. They want to get out of the large-margin business and move into consumer electronics. More sales through Wal-Mart than to Wal-Mart.

JANET

So they're looking for someone to get them out of selling to big business and into the bargain bins. I've got the perfect candidate. Checks off all the boxes. She'll swoop in - and earn us a pretty signing commission - change the corporate culture, and be out the door in five years with millions. Gareth, put together the standard golden chute package.

(Beat)

Alright, what's up next?

EMILY

Huh. Interestingly enough, I've got a coffee shop looking for a part-time manager.

JANET

Alright Mr. Harvard Law, that's you. What else?

GARETH

Kruger Industrial Smoothing needs a new senior sales rep. But I think I've got that one covered.

EMILY

The Lions have an opening for a GM. I think I've got a guy for that. He's got experience, and we can bring in him for high dollars; he's making a lot at his current job.

JANET

Is he going to be interested in moving on?

EMILY

He's got strong ties to the Detroit area, and apparently is in quite a rush to get out of New York. He's something of a

(air quotes)

"bad boy", but they love him in Motor City.

JANET

And he knows football?

EMILY

Not exactly, but he knows sports. And he's used to the pressure of being a GM.

GARETH

We should move quickly on this. Before--

JANET

--Before Detroit knows what hit 'em.

BLACKOUT

Save us from a sound economy, John!

Well, thank G-d for John Sidney. What would we do without him and his immense self-sacrifice. Like a martyr before the lions, John Sidney is willing to throw it all away for the good of the nation in this time of crisis.

Unlike that selfish d-bag James Madison who ran during the War of 1812.

Just look at him. All smug in his powdered wig. Little Jemmy Madison didn't love his country like John Sidney.

Or how about this anti-American hater of all that is good?

Makes me sick, just thinking about that commie-pinko campaigning, hell managing his own campaign, during the Civil War.

If only they could all be American heroes like John Sidney.

FSW: A Game of Horse

Ken suggested this week's theme - sports. He was looking to avoid the teeth gnashing of politics and "failing financial giants". Let me know how he did.

I've got the baton, so next week's theme will be...ah yes! In honor of quitting my job today (and unfortunately taking another one,) next week's theme will be job hunting. If you want to play along with us, email a link to your entry to sketchwar at dreamloom.com.

A Game of Horse
(Three young boys of 9 or 10 shoot a basketball listlessly: BARRY a tall, skinny, African-American kid, rebounds an errant shot and struts. JOE, a skinny white kid, narrates the action.)

JOE
Look, up in the sky! It's a bird...it's a plane...

BARRY
How about a game of horse?

(The last member of our trio is JOHN, a stocky white kid. He slaps the ball from Barry's hands.)

JOHN
Great idea. I'll go first.

BARRY
Don't be a dick, man.

JOE
Yeah, don't be a dick, man.

JOHN
Whatever. You want to protect the hoop? You can't even protect the ball. Okay. From here, off the backboard.

(John at the free throw line dribbles many times and lets loose a brick. Not even close. Barry leaps and retrieves.)

BARRY
(snarky) Nice shot, John.

JOE
Never before in the annals of human history has someone done so little with so much effort.

(Barry lines up at the baseline, beyond the arc. He shoots. Nothing but a ripple as the ball falls through the net. Joe rebounds and dribbles to Barry's spot.)

JOHN
Behind the line! Get behind the line!

(Joe sets up and lets fly an abomination. An uglier shot you've never seen.)

BARRY
That's 'H'. Your turn, John.

(John grabs the ball and dribbles.)

JOHN
It's not fair to shoot from back here. You know I can't raise my arms above my head!

JOE
There's no crying in basketball.

(John shoots granny-style and still misses.)

BARRY
And 'H' for you.

(Barry grabs the ball and dribbles to the top of the key.)

BARRY
Left-handed reverse layup.

(Barry dribbles left, crosses over right, drives to the hoop, powers under and lays it in silky smooth with his off hand.)

JOE
You're despicable.

(Joe grabs the ball and executes...that's not right. He dies. John tries and does even worse, tripping over his feet at the end.)

BARRY
Ho-ho-ho! That's 'H-O' for yo'!

(Barry takes the ball again and goes to the free throw line. He faces away from the hoop.)

BARRY (CONT'D)
Ai-ight. Backwards, off the backboard.

(Cocky bastard. Serves him right when he misses.)

JOE
Juuuust a bit outside!

(John grabs the ball. Out of turn. What a little punk. He goes to the free throw line again.)

JOHN
Losers buy the winner tacos!

(He shoots and banks it in.)

JOE
Do you believe in miracles???

BARRY
You didn't call bank!

JOHN
I always bank it. You know that.

BARRY
Fine.

(Barry takes the ball and shoots without looking. Cocky. I mentioned that, right? He misses.)

JOHN
Ha! That's an 'H'! Man, I love Spanish food!

BARRY
What?

JOHN
I love Spanish food. I can already taste those tacos.

BARRY
Spain's in Europe, John. Tacos are from Mexico.

JOHN
Same diff.

JOE
He only seems to lack the knowledge ladled out daily in high schools.

(A petite girl skips to courtside. She's got a BB gun with her.)

SARAH
Can I play?

JOHN
No! I told you to quit trying to hang out with us!

SARAH
Mom said you have to let me play with you.

JOHN
I don't care. Go home.
(to Joe)
Your turn.

(Joe lines up to shoot and lets the ball sail. Sarah picks it off midair and it deflates as it falls to the ground. Who'd have thought a BB gun would have that much stopping power? Sarah poses like a big girl.)

SARAH
Now can I play?

BLACKOUT

Schadenfreude in the Twin Cities

Looks like Gabriel Nathan Schwartz got what he wanted in miniature at the RNC.

In an interview filmed the afternoon of Sept. 3 and posted on the Web site LinkTV.org, Schwartz was candid about how he envisioned change under a McCain presidency. "Less taxes and more war," he said, smiling. He said the U.S. should "bomb the hell" out of Iran because the country threatens Israel.

Asked by the interviewer how America would pay for a military confrontation with Iran, he said the U.S. should take the country's resources.

He got bombed, and someone took his resources.

Friday Night Sketch War: Change Edition

The change meme is floating in the ether a lot these days. Michael picked up on it and made it the theme for last Friday's sketch war. Well, "sha na na na na".

• Coyote sent the Justice League to do his bidding...
• Michael embraced the wonder of the universe...right before kicking it in the teeth...
• Ken negotiated a pay raise.
  

Ken's suggested next week's seasonally appropriate theme of sports. So get your thinking caps on, sharpen your pencils, quills, and broadswords, and submit your best effort by midnight Friday to sketchwar at dreamloom.com.

John McCain: Lying Liar

Wow. Even the Army Times is now questioning John McCain's questionable grasp on truth.

Has Sen. John McCain renounced his longtime antagonism toward the Army's Future Combat Systems?

On Sept. 8, the Republican presidential candidate told a rally crowd in Lee's Summit, Mo., about an Obama video message to a liberal advocacy group.

"He promised them he would, quote, 'slow our development of Future Combat Systems,'" McCain said, according to wire reports. "This is not a time to slow our development of Future Combat Systems."

Flashback to July, however, when his campaign furnished McCain's economic plan to The Washington Post, declaring that "there are lots of procurements — Airborne Laser, [C-17] Globemaster, Future Combat System [sic] — that should be ended and the entire Pentagon budget should be scrubbed."

Then again, those bastards in the Army have always been a bunch of left-wing commie pinkos.

FSW: Change We Can Believe In

This weeks's topic, selected by Michael, was change. I figured I should go with the season, and go with the political flow. Let's give honors to...Ken for next week. Ken, pick it and put in comments!

If you want to read this the way it really should be formatted, click here for the Scribd version. It's not radically different in appearance, except that the dual dialog is better laid out.

Oh, and yes. This would have to be animated. Assume Hanna-Barbera style.

Change We Can Believe In
INT. STAGE - DAY
(JOHN MCCAIN and SARAH PALIN in front of a green screen. He just can’t get away from them.)

JOHN
People like to bandy the word 'change' around a lot. My opponent--

SARAH
Our opponent.

JOHN
(flinching like a frequently whipped dog)
Yes Sarah. Our opponent wants you to believe change comes from diplomacy, compromise, and hard work. That’s simply not true.

SARAH
That’s right, John. Real change comes from magic rings.

(John and Sarah brandish IDENTICAL RINGS on their upheld fists.)

SARAH (CONT’D)
Magic rings stolen from alien teenagers!

JOHN & SARAH
Wonder Twin powers, activate!

SARAH
Shape of...a Bald Eagle!

JOHN
Form of...a puddle of dirty water! Just like the water on the floor of the cage I spent six years in being tortured daily. When I was a war hero.

(Sarah and John transform into a bald eagle and puddle of
water respectively. Still able to speak, though.)

SARAH
I’m a small-town girl with small-town values. Values like honoring the symbol of our great nation and honoring our great war heroes.

JOHN
Barack Obama called my running mate a pig. Does she look like a pig? No. She’s a majestic eagle.

(Sarah-eagle touches wingtip to John-puddle.)

JOHN & SARAH
Wonder Twin powers, deactivate!

(In a flash, Sarah and John revert to their normal forms.)

SARAH
The big-city elites want to take your guns away.

JOHN
They want to teach your preschoolers about sex.

SARAH
They want to take your pickups and SUVs away.

(Sarah and John touch rings...)

JOHN & SARAH
Wonder Twin powers, activate!

SARAH
Form of...a completely safe and unthreatened polar bear!

JOHN
Shape of...a piece of Arctic glacier, undisturbed by liberal lies about global warming.

(Sarah and John transform again. Sarah-bear stands atop John-ice.)

SARAH
My opponent--

JOHN
(timidly)
--actually, he’s my opponent, Sarah.

SARAH
Right. Our opponent wants you to drive a hybrid. Or walk! He wants you to believe in global warming. Well, I’m from the great state of Alaska and I can tell you, it’s
not getting any warmer!

JOHN
Well, it is getting warmer, Sarah. But the science isn’t conclusive as to whether our actions have anything--

SARAH
--I said it’s not getting warmer, John!

JOHN
Right. Sorry, Sarah.

JOHN & SARAH
Wonder Twin powers, deactivate!

(Sarah-bear and John-ice touch and transform.)

SARAH
Every day I wake up, I have to worry about the threat of Russian invasion. Barack Obama wants to disband the military and send all your children to madrassas. That’s not change we can believe in.
(beat)
This is change we can believe in...

(Sarah and John touch rings again...)

JOHN & SARAH
Wonder Twin powers, activate!

JOHN
Shape of...a bucket of tears. The tears I cried each night after the Vietcong had tortured and beaten me trying to make me turn against America. America, the greatest
country on Earth!

(John transforms into a bucket of tears. It’s magic. Don’t ask.)

SARAH
Form of...a moose!

(Sarah transforms into a moose.)

JOHN
That’s quite a set of antlers you’ve got there, Sarah.

SARAH
What? Oh. Moose! Where’s my gun!

(Sarah-moose runs in circles a few times, finds a tophat, pulls a lion out of it...)

SARAH
Guess I don’t know my own strength.

(Sarah-moose pushes the lion back in and pulls out a rifle and shoots herself!)

JOHN
Sarah! Sarah, are you alright?

(Sarah’s dead.)

JOHN
Oh, great. Now I’m stuck like this.

EXT. PODIUM - DAY
(Bunting and flags everywhere on this cold January day. It’s inauguration day. JOE LIEBERMAN stands behind a dais holding John-bucket-of-tears up to a microphone.)

JOE
John, John!
(calling off stage)
Someone get me a hotplate! The President’s frozen again!

BLACKOUT

McCain Barackroll'd

There's video above, FeedReader.

John's confused by the bright lights and the loud noises. It's long past his bedtime and he just wants Cindy to bring him a cookie and read him a story.

Friday Night Sketch War: Funeral Edition

Last week's reunion special got me a bit melancholy, thinking about the ultimate reunion. When all your friends and family (or, in my case, a county official and anonymous creamatorium worker) get together to celebrate who you were and how you lived. Brings a tear to my eye. A tear, because a cinder from your remains got in my eye!

This week's challenge sees four warriors (once David stopped washing his damn hair) on the field of battle.

• Coyote spied on a lackey's funeral...
• Michael sent a ghost to do his bidding...
• Ken sold me a new coffin...
• David made a [adjective] [noun] of death.

Next week's topic is selected by Michael: change. Same call for sketches as always...if you wanna show us the funny, email sketchwar_AT_dreamloom.com.

FSW: Death of a Henchmen

So last week, TheWife suggested I write my sketch on gatherings about a funeral. I already had an idea in mind which I liked, so I decided against it. But when it came time to pick this week's topic, I was happy to burden the other guys with funerals! This way, we ALL get to put the fun back in funeral.

I'm moderately happy with this one, though I realized as I was wrapping it up that I had no ending for it. That kinda sucks. Thankfully, I had Victor.

Death of a Henchman
(A bright living room: neatly decorated with feminine touches throughout. Several tables are laid out with casseroles and bowls of food. A large wreath dominates one corner. Many people mill about in black. The widow, MARJORIE STEVENSON, is talking with BILL JENSEN.)

MARJORIE
I still can't believe Walt's gone. It's just like him though. He promised he'd clean out the gutters this weekend. Now he'll never...
(Sobbing)
...he'll never make up another excuse to get out of helping around the house.

(Bill puts his arm around Marjorie.)

BILL
I know. He was good at that. Used to get out of cleanup at work, too. Not that anyone cared. He was worth ten of us. We were happy to do his share around the hideout.

MARJORIE
Thanks, Bill.

BILL
Quite a turnout. I'll bet every henchman in town is here.

(Sargent O'Herlihy walks over. A stout Irish man raised on beef and Irish stout, his nose looks like a potato left in a drawer too long.)

O'HERLIHY
Bill. Marjorie. I'm sorry for your loss. Walt was a black-hearted bastard, but he was always the first to buy a round at the pub. When he wasn't in the clink, that is.

MARJORIE
He always liked you, Clancy. Said you were the only clean cop he could stand.

O'HERLIHY
I liked that he never kicked me in me nether regions.

(O'Herlihy takes out a hip flask, toasts the air, and swigs. He walks away as HARLEY QUINN comes up with a covered platter.)

HARLEY
Marjorie, Mr. J. couldn't make it, but he sends his regards. And this dish he cooked himself.

(Harley pulls back the cover, exposing a very large Joker Fish. Marjorie is stone faced.)

MARJORIE
Thank you, Harley dear. Why don't you put that on the table. Leave it covered; we don't want it to...get cold.

HARLEY
It's a dish best served cold.

MARJORIE
Than hot. Wouldn't want it to get hot.

(Harley walks away with her platter of scary fishiness. STAN HOOPER comes to pay his respects. He's young, but using a walker.)

STAN
Marjorie. I don't know if you remember me. I was the Gay Blade's wheelman back in '02.

MARJORIE
Oh, right. You were the one who put the solid fuel rocket on the Blade's Kia.

STAN
(Blushing) Yeah.

BILL
How've you been? It's Stan, right?

STAN
Yeah. Stan. Uh, I've been okay. Got out of traction last month. Doc figures six, seven months of therapy and I should be back in business, God willing. You know anyone looking for a driver?

BILL
No, no. Sorry.

MARJORIE
Well thank you very much for coming by, Stan. It means a lot.

STAN
I was just wondering...I...I don't want I should be rude, but...how did it happen? You hear all sorts of rumors...

MARJORIE
He was setting up a giant boxing glove on the roof of the Fremont Tower. Some crazy scheme of The Marsupial. Something about jets or missiles--

BILL
--Captain Awesome. It was part of a trap for Captain Awesome. Missiles to box him in and the glove to finish him off.

MARJORIE
(Getting tight-chested) Right. That's it. But the springs were second rate - everything The Marsupial does is second rate - and the whole thing collapsed on...

(Marjorie trails off and starts to cry some more.)

STAN
Geez, I'm sorry. I didn't mean I should--

BILL
--It's a difficult time for us all.

(Stan backs away respectfully. Victor Von Doom strolls over carrying a plate of food.)

VON DOOM
Marjorie, Bill, darlings! You know I feel strange asking this, so soon after your dear husband was buried, but I've come to praise this Caesar salad. What's your secret?

BILL
What? Uh, it's the croutons. They're double-baked with garlic and herbs.

VON DOOM
You must give me the recipe.

BILL
You know, now's not the best--

VON DOOM
--you MUST!

(Bill sighs and walks off with Von Doom. GINGER STEINBERG comes over. She's older, but was once obviously a rare beauty.)

GINGER
Marjorie, I'm sorry.

MARJORIE
Thank you, Ginger. If anyone can understand, it's you.

GINGER
I hope not too well. You know I lost my Irving the day before his pension vested.

MARJORIE
Two days for Walt.

GINGER
Ach. It's that damn Marsupial! Why did he go work for him?

MARJORIE
Something about profit sharing and stock options. I don't know. I wish he'd just stayed on Black Manta's crew. That was nice. We got to summer at the beach and all I ever had to worry about was Aquaman sending a jellyfish to sting Walt. But he was sure The Marsupial was an up-and-comer.
(BEAT)
At least there's the Henchmen's Widows fund. And Walt carried a lot of life insurance.

GINGER
I'll bet.

(In the corner, Von Doom knocks over the wreath.)

VON DOOM
Let's Limbo!

BLACKOUT

In praise of big-town America

I grew up in a small town too, Sarah. Mine was a bit bigger than yours, around 17,000 residents, but then again we didn't even have a mayor. Being an old New England town, we had Selectmen. But you know what? Despite my humble beginnings, I'm not an elitist snob.

You are. Why is that?

You devalue the experiences of urban dwellers, coastal denizens, and the cosmopolitan citizens of this great land, as though we're not "real Americans."

The 18 million people who live in the greater New York metro area are somehow less authentic than the Iowa farmer or Montana miner.

The 18 million people who live in the greater Los Angeles metro area are somehow less American than the Alaska oilman or Colorado rancher.

The families large and small, young couples starting out, and unwed mothers in Boston and Miami, Chicago and Dallas, and the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul don't matter. Only the soccer mom from Berryville, Arkansas or the hockey mom from Wasilla, Alaska matter.

Time and again, your party accuses Barack Obama of being an elitist. Time and again your party accuses tens of millions of Americans of being elitists. But what could be more elitist than insisting the experiences of the small-town few are more valid than those of the majority?

I can't blame you for this; this battle is as old as our republic. Jefferson and Hamilton fought over the same ground, over the same definition of America. In the end, Jefferson's gentlemen farmers lost to Hamilton's bankers and industrialists. They lost in blood and pain and death in a war pitting brother against brother. But still you and your fellow travelers fight on, trying to turn back the clock and make an America that never was.

I frankly am tired of the fight. You lost. You lost over a hundred and forty years ago.

The South did rise again: in financial centers like Charlotte, North Carolina; industrial centers like Spring Hill, Tennessee; and tech centers like Huntsville, Alabama. What won't rise again is your brand of small-town elitism.

You are as much an American as I; no more no less. You are as much an American as Barack Obama; no more, no less.

A final thought: the next time you find yourself in your hometown, stop in at Pataya Sushi for a California roll. When you're done, take a short ride down Highway 3 to the Starbucks and have a latte. Don't be afraid of the steamed milk and espresso: it's as American as pizza and poi, teriyaki and tacos.