O Canada!

Keelin and I are up here in Vancouver, British Columbia on a short getaway...staying in our favourite hotel on Robson Street, the Pacific Palisades. A wonderful trip so far...easy border crossing, strolls along Robson Street, late lunch at Hon's, a massive and wonderful Chinese restaurant, and then more walks, stopping in at Virgin Records, swimming, hot tubbing, and even a moment for blogging while Keelin is at A Bikrim Yoga session. Then it's off to visit the critically-lauded Design show at the UBC museum down the street. It's nice to be away, when your biggest decision is where to eat!

Thank you Claire for (wo)manning the Brummet-Curran mansion in our absence. I know Colum and Del are being extremely cooperative!

It's easy to see why Claire loves living in Victoria so much. It's a great country for so many reasons. Now, I have to admit they don't make the best wine in the world, and at the record store, the Celine Dion racks dwarf the amount of shelf space dedicated to Miles Davis or The Beatles. But that's a small price to pay for such a great people, and for a city with such a great international vibe. Watching the news and reading the 'papers here is such an eye-opener after the U.S., where our navel gazing only rarely turns outward (60,000 dead and climbing!), and then only briefly before the next U.S. crisis (Janet Jackson's nipple exposed for three seconds!). More later. Jack Brummet on location in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.
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Poem: Li Po In Disgrace

Four hundred and forty-thousand
Moons ago, Li Po sits
Drinking wine on a bluff.

The Sun fades into blue mountains.
On the other side of the ball,
The sun scales the horizon.

Crickets tune up
And the first bats
Sail from roost to roost.

I think about Li Po drunk again
In the mountains, waiting for word
And listening to the wind songs.

Lost and alone on so many levels,
He stares at the cup
And wonders when his pardon will come.

He holds a inkpot, scroll, and brush.
He listens to his skin fold
And his hair turn grey.

Between the mountains and stars,
A crow wheels over fogged red pines
Spiring in moonlight.

LiPo shakes wet peach blossoms
From his coat
And fills the cup.

Moonlight dances
On the golden wine
In the silver cup.

Who needs a clear head this night?
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Jack Brummet

Jack Drawing: Faces No. 467

faces no. 467

Rumsfeld Says 9-11 plane 'shot down' in Pennsylvania

During his surprise Christmas Eve trip to Iraq, the defense secretary alluded to the fact that we shot down Flight 93 over Pennsylvania. This has always been one of the mysteries of 9/11, and despite the "let's roll" comments of Citizen Beamer on the plane, a lot of people have wondered if we did indeed shoot the plane down. This was the plane that could have conceivably gone to Washington and attacked the White House and other monuments.

Do we now have a policy about taking out commercial flights that are controlled by terrorists? Would this really be a national debate? Everyone on board is doomed in any case...

Click on the title for a link to the story... /jack

Santa Relaxes Before Putting On The Suit Of Lights

Scrooge, by Lord Buckley

This is the text of Richard "Lord" Buckley's (1906-1960) masterful "Scrooge." Lord Buckley was an amazing Beat-era writer and performer who greatly influenced a lot ot later comedians and authors. This is transcribed from his performance (which is worth buying...a couple Buckley CDs are in print).

"Yes, me, I'm Scrooge and I got all Marley's barley, and I'm the baddest cat in all dis world. I been studyin' all my life how to Scrooge people, and I guarantee I done some fine work in dat direction.

"Cratchit!"

"Yes, sir."

"You busy?"

"I shorely is, sir."

"See dat you keep busy. Don't want no danglin' wanglin' around here. Keep everybody tight. And tell dem two cats come in here want to get some money I ain't givin' no money away. Dey messin' wit Scrooge. I'm takin' it in. I ain't puttin' it out. Issat clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, keep it clear. People comin' around here wantin' my gold dat's all, tryin' to pry into my vault. Every time I turn around somebody's tryin' to snap... "

"Tell my nephew I don't want to have no dinner wid him an' if he never comes in here again dat'll be too soon."

"I'll tell de cat."

"See dat ya do.

"I don't understand dese people who are after my gold. I close up dis here place and den dey ... What, what? Yeah, let me tell you somethin else - You think that you gonna get off Christmas day?"

"Well I was hopin', sir, dat you'd let me knock off just a little while for Christmas Eve cause I want to go home and cool da goose."

"Well if you gonna get off Christmas Eve you gonna have to work aaalllll day Christmas. You hear me?"

"I hear ya, sir. I'm wid it."

"Well I guess I'll go on home here."

So Scrooge takes off and he cuts on down the street. And the snow's blowin' and da winds is wooooooooin', and Scrooge is goin' along in his loose soul and his loose clothes and his hard cash box and his big money mind goin' on in his wig and he ding ding ding up da stairs and he open his door and he gets inside and he puts a double lock on da door cause he a little bugged tonight. He bein' sayin' "Humbug" so long, "Humbug dis," an' "Humbug dat," he done give himself a natural Humbug. He's got da bug hummin' in him, see. So he double-lock da door.

And he sit dere and all of a sudden dere's an old bell layin' over dere in the corner and da bell goes, ding-ding-ding-ding" and Scrooge say, "Whassat?" Dang- dong. "Whassat?" Bell started ringin' "DING DONG DOONG DOONG" Pretty soon all da bells all over the house started ringin' "Ding Ding Dang Dang Dong Ring Dong Boom Boom, Ding dong, Boom boom"

And he hear somethin' like some chain cats are pullin' all da chains from the chains of time up the hill 'a strife ringing' and dinglin' wid his whole head ringin' and dingin' wid dem chains. And bloooop! In come a cat, da wildest lookin' cat ya ever see in his life. Real gone cat.

And Scrooge does a real wild take "I know who dat stud is - dat's Marley! I know dat's Marley! What's he doin' here? Say, Marley?"

"Yes, it's me."

"Man, you sure chained up dere, man, you got chainsville all over you dere!"

"Well, I put em on myself, dat's da way I lived it. I chained myself. I hung myself up wid all dese chains, you know, bein' parsimonious, ya understand what I mean? I can't get 'em off now. I been luggin' dese chains all over da country for the past seven years."

"Dat's a long time. What's you want wit me dere, Marley Marley? cause I got your barley."

"I don't mess wid no barley no more. I wish I'd given it all away when I had it and I'm gonna tell you somethin' else, too, I'm a spook, you know dat."

"You tellin' me. I know dat. You a spook, man, an' I wanna get straight."

"I'm gonna tell you somethin else, too, Mr. Scroogie Scrooge, Dere gonna be three more gas lightin' spooks comin' in to see you."

"Three more gas lightin' spooks. Say, one spook's enough. Can't I have 'em all at one time?"

"No. Dey comin' one at a time. First one be eleven, next one be twelve, next one'll be one."

"Man, if I had known this..."

"Tell you what. You dig, Scrooge, it's what you puttin' down. You been a real sorry cat all dis time. You gonna be gassed now by dese spooks."

"Well, dey say if I gotta be gassed.. Ain't gonna cost me no money, is it?"

"Cost you more 'n dat, Scrooge."

"Dey ain't no more den money!"

"You find out."

Brrrrt. And Marley split.

And old Scrooge is sittin' dere sweatin' and dinglin' danglin'. And all of a sudden, man, he hears some crazy wild kind of a thing goin' on. He don't know just what it is and all of a sudden . . .

Boom

Here comes a great big fat spook, look like takes a hundred and seventy wings lift him off over da house top and he's got de old beat up cat and spandly legs, and strangly arms and pedicured eyes, and a whole out of his skull wiggin' up a storm and he looks at old Scrooge and he says...

Scrooge is standin' dere in the corner he feel like a disrupted small disregarded and unclaimed white mice midget-style, he's sittin' over dere.

And dis spook say, "Come wid me 'cause I is The Ghost of da Christmas Past!"

And Scrooge say, "Do I hafta?"

Say, "You certainly do!"

And he got on the ghost's wing and - brrt - they took off.

And he's flyin' old Scrooge over da top of da mountain da wind is blowin', da wind is partin' his way, and he's lookin' down, and seein' all dese crazy scenes goin' on.

Zoom!

He goes over a few more miles Takes him down to a sun-lit pasture. And da sun-lit pasture's full of children, and de're singin' and dancin' and lovin' and goin' and swingin' and Scrooge say, "Look, look, look! Dat's me down dere!"

"Yeah, dat's you, dat's you."

"I look pretty good"

"Yeah but ya don't look good now,"

He say, "I wanna hip you gotta get yourself ?

Zoom!

He takes him over to another place and he shows him a pretty little chick got dimples, three dimples on each chin, and she got three little dimpled children, and the next little dimple on da way, and dere's a real swingin' cat around there, and it's a happy time, looks like seventeen carnivals takin' off. An' Scrooge look at dis chick and say, "I remember dat chick. I could 'a married her once."

"Yeah, you coulda if you wasn't so tight wid your purse. You all was thinkin' about yourself, dat's what happened." Say, "Let me hip you further, Mister Scrooge, Let me tell you one thing: you better get everything straight that you wanna and you better straighten up."

"An' take me home."

"Yeah, I will."

Brrrrm Boom

And he's home again.

"So man, that was a shaker. This whole thing, this whole thing is shakin' me up pretty bad." He say, "I want to tell you right now . . . "

Boom!

Here comes another big spook. Ooooohhhh He's a wild lookin' spook. He's a crazy lookin' spook. He's a far-out spook, he's a gas-light spook. He's got a gas light right on the top of his wig goin' around like one of them pilot lights in a light house and he's there gassin' up the whole scene.

He say "Come with me. I'm The Ghost of Christmas Present"

And Scrooge look around and sees the joint is loaded with apples and bananas and oranges and, and credalies and acralonchs and ripalips all kinds of crazy wild grapes and crazy Chistmas scenes and nuts and candy.

And he say, "Come wid me."

Brrrrrttt. Done took off again.

He said "I am The Ghost of Christmas Present." He say, "I'm gonna show you what's goin' on in dis world and how to dig Christmas and how to all enjoy."

And he took him up to a little old outcast. And there sittin on a small beat-up rock was two studs chompin' up on a can 'a beans singin', "Merry Christmas widch you, Merry Christmas widch you. Merry Christmas to the whole world" And so on and so forth.

And he showin' him the people jumpin' for joy, see how the cats that ain't got nothin' got somethin' anyway, and they're all jumpin' for joy singin' "Merry Christmas," and da bells is ringin'. Now you get yourself straight and see how things is ....

So they fly over da Cratchit's place, there little old Tiny Tim, He's sittin' over in the corner crochetin' a little crazy scene, fiddlin' around, ya know what I mean? An carryin' on, see, and they are all talkin' about this here goose, and dey look down here and this little goose about the size of a beat up retarded sparrow, and everybody's ooohin' and aahhhin' all over dis goose, and day sayin' when are we gonna spread it, and Tiny Tim say, "God bless everyone, and even up to and including Scroogy Scrooge. God bless everyone!" That's what Tiny Tim say.

And old Scrooge got red-eyed.

Brrrrt .

Took 'im back again. Sound like the whole side 'a the buildin' open up and in come a long angular spook seventeen gas lights and stove pipes hung together with jingle jangle bells all over Scrooge takes a look at this cat, Says, "Do I have to go with you?"

He says, "You certainly do, 'cause I'm The Ghost of Christmas Future."

He say, "Come wid me."

Say, "Where we goin'?"

"None 'o your business!"

He takes old Scrooge they cut off flyin' around the moonlight is shinin' down. Booom!

They're in the grave-yard. Oooh a wild OOOOoooohhhh crazy spooky graveyard and Scrooge is walkin' around and finally something stepped out at him like he was struck with the force of his eye lids, some sort of an electronic pitchfork, and he reads on one of them billboards in that grave-yard, it say, "Dis is Scrooge, the baddest cat that ever lived. He don't have nothin' he ain't got nothin' and he ain't got nothin now."

Period.

And Scrooge looked at it and . . . They're going to another place, and there's a cat say "You goin' to the funeral?" and he say, "Not me, man, I wouldn't go near that cat, dead or alive. They couldn't pay me to get near that cat." Say, "What cat is that?" And suddenly Scrooge is takin' in the coffin factory and seeing all these coffins layin' around, and see one coffin, all the rest of 'em got flowers around 'n 'dis poor little coffin got nothin on it but just some pinewood boards an' old Scrooge look up and over and he's lookin' at this and that and look all away 'cause he knows who is in dat coffin.

Zooooommmm.

He's swings on back again and the ghost puts him down and old Scrooge is shakin' and shiverin' and he finally falls into a real wild, crazy miser's coma. And he falls out for how long he don't know when and he wakes up and Mornin'!

Aaaaahh, the sun was shinin' on the glorious snow and old Scrooge is feelin' so groovey 'n so wired and he tip tip tip tip tip toes over to the window. He open the window, see a little cat, he say, "Hey, boy."

"Yes, sir."

"You know that great big giant king-size bird down in Doodley's window?"

"You mean the prize bird?"

"No," he say, "I mean that great big king-size bird." "Go get that bird. Here's a twenty."

He knocks a twenty on him. "Go get dat bird. And here's ten more for a cab, an here's five dollar for your sister, and here's twenty-two-fifty for your uncle's new bicycle. Tell anyone who wants anything, 'See Scrooge.' I'm flyin' this here Christmas. I want to see Cratchit swing out with a great big swingin' happy dinner. I'm wid it all da way!"

An' old Scrooge get dressed and he's walkin' down the street, and Ding Dong, Ding Dong Ding, the bells is ringin'. Scrooge got a big smile on his face, and people he's seen for twenty years never said hello,sayin' "Good morning, Mr. Scrooge."

"What you say, Baby?"

An' he carryin' on, carryin' on, happy as the day is long.

And he finally fell into old Bob Cratchit's place and he's got Christmas toys and Christmas joys and Christmas presents for everybody. And they'd just opened the goose, and then little Tiny Tim see him comin', he say, "God bless Mr. Scrooge. He done did the turn about. He's the Lord's boy today."

And that's the story of Scrooge. You can get wid it if you want to. There's only one way straight to the Road of Love.

Buck Up Democrats! - We Have Mid-terms In '06

Doctors Use Video Games to Hone Skills

The director of the Advanced Medical Technologies Institute at Beth Israel Medical Center Dr. James Rosser, Jr., uses video games to train surgeons.

"Surgeons who play video games three hours a week have 37 percent fewer errors and accomplish tasks 27 percent faster, he says, basing his observation on results of tests using the video game Super Monkey Ball[1].

Another group--the U.S. Army--is using and further developing a simulation game for medics that "lets them bandage wounds, apply tourniquets, administer intravenous fluids, inject medications and make all of the other assessments they would be required to do in an actual battlefield. " They have a ways to go. TATRC's J. Harvey Magee said "it doesn't respond like a really cool video game yet."

Click on the title for a link to this Reuters article. /jack

[1] Great choice, Doctor! SMB/SMB2 is one of my five favorite video games of all time.
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Warcraft

"To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target."
- Ashleigh Brilliant

Hucking Eggs in Kent, Washington

For a couple of years, one of our favorite pastimes was hucking eggs at cars. Not that we were particularly destructive, but we were boys, and destruction was part of our makeup...whether it was instilled by nature, or nurture. Eggs were the perfect vehicle--a dozen cost fifty-three cents, they wouldn't kill anyone, didn't dent sheet metal, and did no real damage to the finish of those 50's and 60's behemoths with leaded, toxic, permanent paint.

 

Eggs were peripheral to the fun; they were the catalyst. Eggs triggered behaviors in drivers that tapped into our fight or flight response. The egged driver had one of three responses:

 

• They drove on obliviously, or tapped their brakes and kept moving.
• They stopped and maybe got out, checked the egged fender, and drove off.
• They went completely ballistic; crazy as a s**those rat; or went for their shotgun.

We aimed for Response Number 3. It was about the adrenaline. Ours and theirs.

 

Those most likely to respond were also the most likely to inflict serious damage if they actually caught you. They were big and they were dumb. The men who gave chase were brain-damaged palookas who fly off the handle, berating clerks and starting fights in taverns; the dolts who bullied anyone that bisected their arc. These knuckleheads were chronically pissed-off guys with quarter-inch fuses and were always ready for-- and, indeed, welcomed--a fight. After all, we weren't exactly innocent bystanders. This would be a righteous stomping of The Guilty.

 

We could have saved a lot of eggs if we had figured out a way to profile these guys. Any of the victims could be turned, or converted into a Number 3 if they departed the relative safety of their car. As they walked around the car, inspecting the egg on the windshield or fender, a second fusillade of eggs flew from the bushes. If you hucked five or six eggs at a stationary target at least a few would make the target...perhaps splattering on their coat, or hitting the car and doing peripheral damage when they splattered. If they actually stopped or slowed down, we always launched a second volley. A driver who was willing to turn the other cheek was suddenly pushed to the brink.

 

It was all about the chase, and the resultant adrenaline rush. When you hit the the right guy's car, he came after you. The best ones slammed on their brakes and immediately began driving around in circles, revving their V8s, screeching around corners, trying to find the perpetrators. It added an aural element to the rush.

 

We always had proximate hiding spots and a loose escape plan. There was always a vacant garage, a boxcar, an abandoned car, or a hedge to hide behind. Once in a while, 'though, we'd be walking along the street, and someone--usually Lonnie Edwards--would attack a house or car as we were walking around. With no plan, and no cover, there was chaos as we scrambled for shelter anywhere. It was almost more scary to hit a house, because you were out in the open, and you never knew when someone would open the door, jacking shells into a ten gauge shotgun. Back in the 60's, not a lot of people were packing heat in their cars. These days egg hucking could very well be fatal.

 

Some victims would comb the neighborhood relentlessly for half an hour, racing up and down the streets. Sometimes we would would end up exposed. As the car rushed up and slammed on its brakes, we played innocent. They hadn't actually seen us, after all. "We did see four, five guys were running right over there..."

 

The Police would frequently be called of course, and we'd give them a blast of eggs too. Answering a complaint, or after having an egg tossed at their prowl car, they would drive around the neighborood too, sometimes cruising with their lights off, hoping we would show our faces. If they'd pursued us on foot, they might have found us, but on foot just wasn't real big in 1965. After the police showed, we would, naturally, switch locations.

 

One night, we stumbled on a fresh delivery of eggs, sitting on the loading dock of Westland Hatchery [1]. Each case contained a gross (a dozen dozen), or 144 eggs. We spirited away several boxes, and suddenly had 600 eggs to toss. Our first attack came as we hid to the side of the hatchery in overgrown bushes. The first hundred eggs were fired as cars passed the hatchery, as if the hatchery itself were waging war on the berr-fogged drivers. Central Avenue was littered with hundreds of eggshells before the night was over.

 

We lobbed all 600 eggs that night and the beast was sated. We took the sport as far as it could go. We never hucked eggs again, and retired at the top of our game, just barely unbeaten and unarrested.

 

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Mark Twain On Politics

"Sometimes I wonder whether the world is being run by smart people who are putting us on or by imbeciles who really mean it."

Go Leftward, Our Republican Brothers And Sisters!

"BERLIN (AP) 12-20-2004— California Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger suggested in a German newspaper interview published Saturday that the Republican Party should move 'a little to the left,' a shift that he said would allow it to pick up new voters. "

Bad move, Republicans. Leave the left to the Democrats. You got where you are today by chucking the "liberal" policies of Richard Nixon and making the rabid right seem almost centrist. You will bring nothing to the party by going liberal. In fact, I doubt if Arnold could have been elected in any other state as a Republican. He is far too centrist, tending to slightly left-of-center to be wholly embraced by the GOP in general. Most Republicans seem slightly uncomfortable with him.

Click on the title for a link to the article. /jack
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Three By Ronald Reagan

Three great quotes from Ronald "Dutch" Reagan, POTUS 40. My friend Dan has noted that I like Republican Presidents once they are out of office for a while. That is true, certainly, of Richard Nixon, and less of Pres. Reagan. I'm not sure I'll ever be similarly so favorably disposed to the current president or his father (who I never really disliked, other than his policies and politics). Unlike Presidents Bush (POTUS Numbers 41 and 43), Ronald Reagan had a real sense of humor. And, as you'll note below, great writers. President Reagan died earlier this year.


It's hard when you're up to your armpits in alligators to remember you came here to drain the swamp.
Ronald Reagan February 10, 1982

The government's view of the economy can be summed up in a few short phrases. It if moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it.
Ronald Reagan,White House Conference on Small Business, August 15, 1986

Government is like a baby. It is an alimentary canal with an appetite at one end and a no sense of responsibility at the other.
Remarks before Joint Session of the Canadian Parliament, Ottawa, March11, 1981

Poem: The Clock

The fast hand sloughs seconds
Onto the clock dial, tugging
The hours and minutes along
As time burnishes the mask of our faces.

A paring of grey moonshell
Hovers over our shoulders,
Waltzing the sea surge
Over the ocean floor.

Under a red sun, night retracts its stars
And starfish lounge on rocks.
The sun in Japan sinks
In water at sight's end.

Domed flares of light appear
On the opposing hemisphere
And earth surrenders its heat,
Trading degrees with the shifting winds.
---o0o---
(c) 2004 Jack Brummet

Larry Bird

"There is a thin line between genius and insanity, and in Larry's (Bird) case it was sometimes so thin you could see him drifting back and forth."

- Leo Durocher

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