Indianapolis Colts Cheerleaders

Hi, and welcome aboard! Your NFL Indianapolis Experience is already underway, and we at Indianapolis Kismet Airlines don’t want you to miss one sparkling moment! So, buckle up. Here we go!

Indianapolis is “Special”, in the sense John Cardinal Cushing meant when he coined the phrases “special children” and “special education.”

“If, by ‘Special’, you mean a town where the streets all meet at right angles and the front lawns come right up to the sidewalks, where all the traffic lights are synchronized and all the pizza shops are named ‘Angelos’, where it’s cold in the winter and hot in the summer, then Indianapolis is the place for you,” says Ed Miniver, star eighth-man for the Kennesaw Mountain Wolverines of the AABA.

Indianapolis is well-suited to host Super Bowl XLVI. As the hometown of many sports greats such as Rodney Carney and Mike Conley, Jr, of the NBA, Mathias Kiwanuka and Jeff George of the MFL, and Steve Bellamy, founder of the Tennis Channel, it’s played with the big boys once or twice. And as the hometown of John Dillinger, it’s got no problem with armed robbery. David Letterman comes from here. Indianapolis. It’s a great place to be from.

Visitors to Indianapolis this February will find the city roiling with festivities right in tune with football fun. Such featured events as a Tour of the Marion County Catacombs, where actual Indiana Indians were buried as they were knocked off; the Fourth Annual Super Cigar Lounge, at the Convention Center; and the Public Safety and Criminal Justice Committee meeting at the City-County Building. Of all the many activities, these shine like the crown jewels.

And, don’t dare miss Super Bowl Village: THE EPICENTER OF AWESOME, which “trnsforms the heart of downtown Indianapolis into a ten-day, three-block interactive Festival of Football”. Watch the “Today” show, broadcast live 7-10am, or “Late Night with Jimmy Fallon”, taping 4-9:30pm, outdoors on the Pan Am Plaza, Don’t look for Jay Leno, though. He’s in LA. Nox on Letterman, too. They couldn’t meet his price.

Or, just take a liesurely stroll down East Market Street, West Market Street, or North Meridian Street, marvelling at the quaint twentieth century Midwestern architecture of the office buildinga and warehouses that make Indianapolis what it is today. The weather should be pretty mild for February in Indiana – temperature in the mid-40′s, wind from the east (or west) at 10 – 15 mph. No sleet to speak of.

At night, there’s theater at its most glamorous. At Theater on the Square, catch “Debbie Does Dallas”. Take the kids – it’s PG13. Based on the 1978 porno, it’s the story of a high school girl who’s only ambition is to become a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader, and her adventures achieving it. The dialog and plot of this family oriented musical remains stunningly faithful to the original, we’re told, but with production numbers replacing the sex.

And in case you don’t want replacements, we urge you to stop by the little kiosk in the Convention Center, near the Cigar Lounge, and rent one (or more!) of the 9,000 companions imported by LarryEnterprises for this event.

We’re glad you chose to come to Indianapolis for Super Bowl XLVI. We’re sure it will be an experience you’ll never forget.

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Editor’s note – all of the above is the documented truth, except the part about the hooker’s kiosk.

The History of the United States began with Dutch merchants creating profit-making colonies, Englishmen fleeing oppression for their religious beliefs, and Frenchmen, curious as to why anyone would deliberately live in a wilderness when they could live in France.

The history of the nation expanded with Irish, fleeing starvation; Scaninavian/German/Polish landless farmers seeking land; innumerable eastern, southern and Mediterranean Europeans fleeing otherwise inescapable poverty and oppression; and, slaves.

The rift between slave-holders and non-slaveholders was apparent by the time the Declaration of Independence was signed. It was addressed, with increasing acrimony, in every piece of territorial legislation until 1860, when acrimony overcame legislation and the urge to beat some sense into the Other Guy overwhelmed the process of government.

The Civil War was fought over two opposing idealisms. Within the sometimes brutal bigotries and exclusions of the times (no women were welcome in the workplace, for instance), it still broke out this way:

- In the North, all men were equal. No one was considered intrinsically superior to another.
- In the South, some men were considered superior by birth; genetically superior.

That’s what it was all about.

Everyone believes at some level that This Family/nation/people is The Best There Is. It’s probably unhealthy to think otherwise, at least, while you’re growing up, but it’s a lousy form of government. In fact, it’s the basis of all monarchy.

Even in the face of the well-known bloody, murderous histories of almost all the crowns of Europe, up until 1915, belief was still fervent throughout the continent that royalty ruled through “Divine Right” – because They were better than Everyone Else, A coup was no more than Trial By Combat, don’t you know. Keep in mind, the Europeans invented The Dark Ages.

One of the main reasons Europeans came here was freedom to govern their own lives, to rule themselves. When you examine Lincon’s wartime decisions, you find they all reflect his belief that this nation needed to stand for individual equality. That was the basis for his eventual abolishment of slavery. This nation, alone in the world in its declaration of freedom for all, was among the last Western government to permit enslavement of part of its populace.

Self government requires The People to operate the government.

To be candid, our government scares the shit out of me. I couldn’t even begin to operate it. I feel the same way facing a voting machine I’d feel looking at a control console for Hoover Dam, or the New York City subway system. I’m not much more responsible operating a voting machine as I would be piloting a 747. Or so it seems.

That’s why our legislators don’t have term limits. We’re all thinking, “I can’t run this thing!! They’re pros. Let them do it. They know how to get things done. ”

[here insert hollow laughter]

Maybe that worked for a while. It wasn’t the way it was intended, though, and it doesn’t work now.

Legislating was never supposed to be a full-time job. Senators, Representatives, at neither the Federal nor the State levels were supposed to be full-time employees of the government. That’s what Civil Service workers are for – to keep track of everything, so that part-time legislators can get things done.

Just ask yourself: if you were Eric Cantor’s father, and he brought hom the kind of report card he could show you today, how would you feel? What would you do, now that spanking is reserved for private entertainment?

See, Eric Cantor walks like a suburbanite, talks like one, too. He looks sort of like You&Me. He could work in your bank, your accounting firm, your car dealership. But, he doesn’t. He works in the Federal Congress, as one of its decision-making executives.

He’s not eligible to work there.

He’s not One Of Us. He’s not actually one of his own constituents. He’s got other things on his mind.

We are no longer being governed by our peers. Ever since the late 50′s, Congress has voted itself pay increases that would make Teamster officials blush, if they still could.

Legislating is supposed to be part-time work for civic-minded citizens. And we should live in a world that doesn’t require every second of our lives to pay for it. And it’s up to us to demand it.

Aw, shit. Here I was amusing myself, and suddenly I’m trying to Mean Something or another.

See, I was in the middle of a piece, where the Costa Concordia was wrecked because one of the passengers with a cabin next to the bridge was listening to a Rick Santorum podcast, and the engine-room telegraph line suddenly just snapped.

“You know you’ve been to Looneyville and back when people think Rick Santorum is saner than Rick Perry,” said Dr Phineas Windsock, of Amherst.  Dr Windsock went on to characterize the performances as “four hours of communal, mental self-abuse.”

“I’ve done this sort of thing myself, of course. We all have. But that’s when we’re eight, and at summer camp,” he said. “It’s part of the explorations of youth. As such, it’s understandable. And, when we did it, we made sure we were out of sight of the adults.” Dr Windsock, holder of a PhD in Philosophy from Willard Scott University, is currently the weekend manager of Adele’s SpeedStop and Gas, in South Hadley, just outside Amherst.

“Personally, I was impressed they could get it up for a second round,” said Geraldine Swinbourne, of Bayou Lucie, LA. “Especially that Ron Paul. He must have more lead in his pencil than I thought. On a Sunday morning, even I usually sleep in.”

Michael Vickky, President of the Upper Gutchkee Chamber of Commerce and an ardent supporter of the debate system, said, “Hey, it’s kind of like putting six ferrets in a 55-gallon drum and spraying them with hot sauce.”

Absent from this weekend’s double-dip, Michele Bachmann sent best wishes to all the candidates from her vacation home on Mars.

Whenever I open my administration page for this website, I am greeted with “WordPress 3.3.1 is available! Please update now.” As you can see, there are two links here. Presumably, they are here to help me Do The Big Update.

Some weeks have passed since I last had to take this nightmarish software seriously. My wounds are closed.  Thanks to some superb nursing, and the secret knowledge of  a South Carolinian herbalist, most of my scars are invisible. Nevertheless, I am cautious, even chary, as I approach the interface. I know these people for what they are, namely, deranged gearheads, hooked on PHP and XML,  living lives of junk food and 5-Hour-Energy (or, worse, Red Bull) in windowless soundproofed basement rooms reeking of cigarette smoke because the 23-year-old “boss” smokes four packs a day. I’ll have to progress inch-by-inch, ever on the lookout for loose ends of razor wire whipping my face and concrete blocks lying at cockeyed angles under the muck, waiting to trap my feet and rip the tendons out of my ankles.

The first link goes to a promo for the New&Improved WordPress version. There’s no information I need here. Its presence pisses me off more than I am already, and I’m mighty pissed off.  WordPress’s WestCoast tendency to provide promotional copy rather than the instructional help needed makes me want to kill. The ramp-time from “Gee, OK, how do we do this?” to “How much force does it take to push my thumbs through your c-spine?” shortens to instantaneous.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. What’s that second link do?

WordPress Updates

Last checked on January 5, 2012 at 8:31 pm.   Check Again

Important: before updating, please back up your database and files. For help with updates, visit the Updating WordPress Codex page.

If you’re like me, you’d expect the next phrase/link to be about “How To Backup Your Database And Files.” However, the next sentence here is,

An updated version of WordPress is available.

• You can update to WordPress 3.3.1–en_US automatically or download the package and install it manually:
  
   Download 3.3.1–en_US

This is what I was warned not to do until I backed up my db&files.

So I click on the ‘back up’ link:

Database Backup Instructions

Don’t you believe it.

But they do let something useful slip through their groovy and really friendly foggy “information”. “Your server…”

Got it. WordPress doesn’t have a backup interface for the database. Do it yourself, on your server.

That’s all they need to say. Instead, they give links to every control panel currently in use so that users can do shit with their own files on their servers. What do I know? Maybe they’ve got some information I can use, after all?

My server uses “cpanel” to administer stuff, so I click on the “cpanel” link for more instructions.

cPanel

On your main control panel for cPanel, look for the MySQL logo and click the link to MySQL Databases. On the next page, look for phpMyAdmin link and click it to access your phpMyAdmin.

cPanel Access Databases

cPanel Access to phpMyAdmin

Can you see how to access your WordPress database? Never mind that my cpanel doesn’t look anything like this. It’s been ‘upgraded’ twice since this now-useless screen grab was made. Never mind that ‘backing up’ a database consists of exporting an XML textfile to your computer, and you need to click on “Export”, once you’ve found your WordPress database, and there’s nothing called ‘backup’ in the phpMyAdmin interface. WordPress provides specific instructions every bit as useful as those above for all those other interfaces, and then, pages later, tell you what my ISP support told me in the 26 words italicised above.

That’s why you need an ISP with strong, 24/7 live customer support. To protect you from WordPress.

##################################

That’s only half the backup process. We still need to find and back up The Files. Stylings? Copy? I’m not sure what “and files” means.

I have all the copy in its original textfiles. The pictures are all in their folder. What I don’t have are any Categories, Tabs, external links, etc. But: wouldn’t they all be in the db?

How about the formatting? The WooTheme I’m using (“Canvas”) – where’s all that shit?

I’m gonna have to check with my Woo Guru. She’s in London, I think. 5 hrs ahead.

############

 Oh! I think maybe I have it! After scrolling down until I can’t scroll any further, I’ve come across a link (fourth in a column of seven) – “Backing Up Your WordPress Files“. It goes to another page.

“There are two parts to backing up your WordPress site: Database and Files.” it says. I find it reassuring.

“Everything that has anything to do with the look and feel of your site is in a file somewhere and needs to be backed up. Additionally, you must back up all of your files in your WordPress directory (including subdirectories) and your .htaccessfile.”

That’s cool. But if I’m backing up all the functional software, all the programming and everything, what’s going to be “upgraded”?

Slowly comes the dawn. I’m “backing up”. In case something bad happens in the upgrade to 3.3.1, I can at least go back to 2.3.1 and try my upgrade again.

See, if everything goes right, I won’t need this backup. Ever. If things go wrong, however, it may save my ass. Fine. I can deal with that.

What’s confusing me, I realize, is that I didn’t install WordPress on my server. My ISP did.

Back to the phone: “Do you do this, O Provider of Internet, or do I?”

Well: I do. OK.

Only one other thing to check. Where’s the WooThemes stuff? As I back up the javaScript and the php, I see it flying by. Fine.

Then – and only then – do I notice, at the top of the administration ‘dashboard’, the menu item. “Updates”, it says; and when I roll over it, “2 theme updates” are mentioned under the pointing finger. Sheepishly, I click.

“Hi, you’re done, Welcome to 3.3.1. Watch for the wonderful new features…”

Good programming. Very flexible. Still developing, and I think doing a damned good job. Awful documentation, though. You’d think, software for writers, there’d be more instruction in the manuals.

 

 

 

I have no idea where this comes from just now.

Just now, I was contemplating my farewell to Steve Jobs. Maybe his spirit carries a choral crowd along with it, so that his son will know he was so cool some might call him sacred. Pardon: his children, rather. Or, is it his son? How many kids did Steve Jobs have, anyway? Don’t ask him. Do we know they (him) are his? Umph;; sorry I asked. It was tasteless, and a giveaway.

I’m not all that carried away by Steve Jobs, alive or dead.

I’m glad he ‘thought differently’ and that he acomplished his vision. No doubt, the fact that he did so makes life a tiny bit more flexible, endurable, comfortable, maybe doable for the rest of us. I’m horrified at what I see of his personality, The fact that this success – carrying out his vision – seemed to cost Mr Jobs much of his life experiences, and may have contributed to its ending prematurely is certainly discouraging to anyone on the edge of the woods, considering the path not taken.

I’m particularly put off by the culture his innovative inventions spawned. The early Macs – so easy to use, intuitively organized, enjoyably flexible and forgiving and at least as functional as the PCs of the time – were prohibitively expensive. Their professional software – Microsoft Word, File-Maker, various text editors (I can only remember BB) – produced documents that were non-transferrable to PCs, including textfiles. And they were promoted with a treacly cuteness that made me yearn for fingernails on blackboards.

Directories weren’t directories, but “folders”. They weren’t organized. There was no “root”. You could ‘nest’ folders within folders, but you were encouraged to ‘just name them and put them on your desktop where they’re most convenient’. Which meant that, if you needed to find a document on a colleague’s machine, it could be named anything, and be anywhere. Sometimes, the colleague couldn’t find it.

Apple made every element of your Macintosh. There were no third-party vendors. Eventually, modems could be purchased that, with Mac cable adapters, would function. And once you were on the internet, everything there was available to you. But still, downloadable applications, unless specifically engineered for Macs, were useless, And practically none were. Then as now, Mac users totaled less than 5% of the market.

And you couldn’t cludge these applications yourself. The mysteries of the Motorola chip were guarded closer than Masonic ritual. To penetrate the software, first, you had to penetrate a cult. I met three people I didn’t like, three icky, smug, “Well, not exactly” people, and gave up.

On the other hand, there was software that was programmable, kind of. Hypercard, and also FileMaker, incorporated scripting languages that were as powerful as Visual Basic and, once interpreted (into MotorolaSpeak by the program), fast enough to use. So once you got used to being Off The Grid, Making Your Own and Trusting The Mac, you could get anything you needed to done.

I used Macs from the mid 80′s to the end of the 90′s, first as the front end of various audio editing and manipulating devices; then, in the mid 90′s as a multimedia development platform. All the imagery was generated on Macs, and it was easiest for me to access and manipulate it if I kept it in the Mac world. But eventually, I encountered problems from users, who were presenting on PCs. They couldn’t execute some commands I’d written on the Mac. I bought a PC, and felt I’d been let out of a cage – but into a savage land, that didn’t understand the nuances that defined culture, and made civilization elegant.

The smug Mac cutsieness lasted maybe a decade. I don’t pretend to be a journalist or historian, so I don’t know dates, but I’m willing to bet the cutesies disappeared with the emergence of the “i”.

So demure. So self-effacing, that lower-case ideogram, How many associations can you attach to this letter/image? O, absolute genius.

iPod. iPad. iPhone. All I see is |i|. The mathematical representation of “absolute” i. Lowercase, uppercase, negative, positive, there you have it. I. The complete apotheosis of the self-absorbed asethete. Put in my earbuds and don’t bother me, I’m digging |i|.

I never met Steve Jobs. He could have been a sweetheart – kind, receptive, intuitive, always talks to you on your level, always listens to your voice. I’m sure he was terribly busy all the time. People who live like that tend to appear brusque and dismissive, of course. And, they tend to not eat enough. And I didn’t read his biography. Yet. I’m still … thinking, and I don’t want to have to read Gates’ and Wozniak’s, too. Enough, already.

But I did read somewhere that Jobs was captivated by the audio products of Bang & Olufson. Not only are they “audiophile” electronics (meaning that their promotional material includes specs on variables that are indistinguishable by humans), but their very stylish products are priced at least five times above their value as electronic components.

Even if I could afford them, I wouldn’t have them in my home.

Called The Fixer, it is intended to correct those pregnancies which, while they may or may not have been considered ‘unwanted’ at the time, have proven to have been really bad mistakes.

“An individual’s DNA is, as we know, utterly unique,” said Dr Fyodor G. Anadroikin, one of the developers of the substance. “As we go through life, we leave behind a kind of trail of our DNA, like breadcrumbs.”

The active ingredient in The Fixer, cleavonlittleorgcombobulate, latches on to the subject’s DNA. Effectively, it tracks the person back through life to the point of conception, erasing as it goes. At the end of the process, the subject, in effect, was never born.

The release culminates over twentyfive years of meticulous research and rigorous testing. Originally begun in the old Soviet Union, and intended to replace a gruelling labor-intensive manual process, the research was moved to a private laboratory funded by private investors. The American pharmaceutical giant Ciba-Geigy joined the venture in late 1994.

“We knew there were no legitimate pharmaceutical aspects to this stuff,” admitted someone close to the industry who refused to be named. “But it looked like it was worth its weight in gold, or more, and if we could get away with calling it a ‘contraceptive’, even a ‘retroactive contraceptive’, all the better.”

Dr Anadroikin said, “We here at Babayaga Institute are extremely proud and thankful that our ‘baby’ has finally made it to the marketplace, We have great hopes that, in its success, it will contribute what it can to a peaceful and loving future for all mankind.”

However, working in a proprietary software is analogous to living under a foreign tongue. Especially, one as perversely documented as WordPress.

I’ve given up attempting to modify WordPress’ basic “2011 Theme” into something useful to me, and have imported the WooTheme known as “Canvas”. There’s hoke, here. Oops – I meant ‘hope’. Replacing “2011″ with “Canvas” was instantaneous. I’ll say that much. And there’s other nice nuances.

WordPress makes all “Canvas”s controls immediately available.  However, maybe I should have kept “2011″ in place just a tad longer. I’m not sure what will happen re: previous posts. That’s why there’s two here, so that I can learn what will happen to the other one.

Alas, that may not tell me much. Yesterday’s post is now further down the scroll. That’s swell. But I want to know what’s in store by 2012, when I have 35, or 2013, when I have 350 posts and an archive to consider.  ”2011″ had an archive already set up. Does “Canvas”?

Of course, I could learn by doing, if I could import the 126 blog posts from www.freedmania.blogspot.com. I scrupulously followed the directions, which are so simple a Neanderthal wouldn’t even have to stop scratching himself to follow them, and merely succeeded in proving once again that Any Statement That Begins with the Phrase, ‘All You’ve Got To Do’ is a Lie. The only true part of it is that you’re going to do it. Whoever’s talking is going home.

By the way, a measure of the ungainly non-intuitivenes of WordPress is the fact that I’m blogging about it at all.  This space should be filled with the vitriolic good humor so easily inspired by Newt Gingrich, or maybe wry wisdom to offset the boorish hopes of the detatched who want Occupy Wall Street to look more like “occupy the Columbia U’s President’s Office” of 35 years ago. The fact is, other than the three day weekend spent eating, I haven’t done or looked at anything other than this goddamned “plug-and-play” thing for close to a week…

Well, it’s not All WordPress’ fault. I’m ignorant of the most basic “social network” fats and practices. I don’t know what to “link” to, or what RSS is used for re: a blog. That stuff’s on me.

But: I want to put a column of links in the right-hand column of the landing page. I’d like some control over fonts. I need some guidance on handling comments, and a sign-up mechanism for readers. I’d expect that documentation sitting out in plain view somewhere near at hand.

Well, maybe it’s in here somewhere. I had to send out for a hard hat and a miner’s lamp. Fortunately, you can get almost anything on Amazon these days. Stay in touch. I’ll see you all in a couple of days.

WordPress is a bitch. The documentation is some of the most demeaning ‘kindness’ I’ve ever encountered. I can only hope it serves as a filter. If I was actually the idiot they’re addressing, here’s hoping I would have given up after “We’re sure you” and abandoned this wild and impractical ambition to expose my “ideas” to a ravening public. But, maybe not.

Their documentation is written like most schoolbooks, with a lengthy, friendly persuasion piece about the intrinsic value of blogging. Presumably, this is so their customer – the “rabbit” – will remember he/she has voluntarily assigned hself the task of blogging, and collaterally the task of making it ‘look good’, Since this isn’t high school, a rabbit is allowed to hire whatever help hshe can afford in that regard.

Actually, this being the real world, the rabbit can hire someone to think profound thoughts for hier, write better than hshe could ever dream of, and basically ghost the whole thing. But that’s another post, at another time.

This post is solely to provide copy for the eventual task of layout. It’s all I need instruction in. Being not a moron, I knew, going in, that I would have to think, compose and write the whole thing. In fact, it’s what I came here to do. I’m not a good graphic artist, but I’m good enough to play with blocks. Building a website’s not like building a house. Using an interface to move around textfields, images, etc., though, is analogous to digging a foundation with a backhoe. If all you’ve ever used is a pick and shovel, someone’s got to show you what to do with all those levers.

For instance: I wrote one of these already. A block of copy, that is, suitable for devising layout (I can’t call what I’m doing “designing”. I just can’t.) I didn’t know how to save it, though. Didn’t know enough to scan the page and look for the “Publish/Save” module, off the upper right corner of this textfield. And I didn’t take the precaution of saving the text, either. Silly me.

Beyond that, I’ll have to deal with “Categories”, “Tabs”, “Hyperlinks”, and probably other stuff, all requiring instruction re: the interface. Since this is where wordPress includes that information, I have to follow their mad logic, or build my own breadcrumb trail through their docs.

Actually, I think they wanted me to deal with “Categories” first, before even writing this.. I wouldn’t ever have thought of that order of procedure. In writing a blog, first you write whatever comes into your head or your gut, then you classify it for posterity. No?

“Categories” first. Maybe this is what they teach you in journalism school. Nobody tells me anything. For all I know, this is the very root of all my troubles – why I’ve never been a successful writer. I’ll do it.

Well, I’ll save this draft first, and learn about drafts, too.

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Hmm. One draft per post. That being the case, I’ll keep the text editor open, too, for those nuggets that are too precious to lose, but don’t seem to scan very well.

Meanwhile, I’ve sorted out the Categories issue far enough to create a couple and assign this post to one of them. I could assign it to several, but I’m not duplicating any documentation here, no matter how cheesy it may be.

Tags, too. No biggie there.

I still have profound questions regarding Categories, Tags and search engines. I’ll deal with those issues after this thing looks cool.

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 For two hours now, I’ve been trying to import the 126 posts I made in Blogger.  The Blogger Importer plugin has been plugged in.

The third and last line of the instructions says, in a casual and friendly way, “The first thing you need to do is tell Blogger to let WordPress access your account.” Do you know what this has instructed me to do?

You do?

Could you tell me, please? Because I haven’t a clue. I thought perhaps a textfield would open, and I would type in the URL of the WordPress-enabled site. Or, perhaps, a speaking tube would extend itself from my flat screen and I could talk directly with Blogger.

“You will [then] be sent back here after providing authorization.” When I wasn’t sent anywhere, I slowly trudged back across the flat screen myself.

Since I hadn’t found a way to convey to Blogger my vital message, and consequently hadn’t been sent back, I there was only one visible choice. I clicked the button marked “authorize”. Hell, I figured. I’m an author. Why not?

O, I can’t stand it… the upshot was, no files ever transferred. I’m going to get a beer. I’ll look at the layout tomorrow.

Dear Strung,
The ‘Let Women Die’ bill derives its name from its refusal of funds to indigent women who were made pregnant via rape or incest or whose life is threatened by continued pregnancy. It in no way restricts the accessibility of abortion to anyone willing to pay for one herself, or anyone carrying private health insurance with abortion coverage.

Its sponsors, Orrin Hatch and twenty-nine others, would prefer it being referred to as the ‘Protected Life Act’. Of course, this disregards the life of the woman in question. Nor does it extend protection to the unborn fetus carried by a woman with her own health coverage.

Perhaps Mr. Hatch and his colleagues believe she ‘has it coming’. I can understand their viewpoint. Can you?

They don’t see the indigent rape victim as a victim. They see her as a wanton seducer, using men to her own evil ends, who should have her life destroyed and her child’s life ground into misery as a lesson, to purify them both through penance.

Makes me wonder what Mr Hatch and his twenty-nine cohorts are guilty of, that they want poor girls to die, or wish they did. Good Christians all, I’m sure they will feel purified by the blood of these women.

It’s good to be Good.

Oh – by the way, the bill was just introduced in the Senate. It probably won’t ever come to a vote. It’s just there so you’ll worry about it, rather than, say, Occupying Wall Street, or Lansing, or your own bank’s lobby. So, don’t you feel guilty, just cause you didn’t write your Senators.

Of course, it would be easier for you to write to them, if you know who they are. You may not. As a community service, here is the link that will take you to the Senate: http://www.senate.gov/general/contact_information/senators_cfm.cfm? Just another click, and all will be revealed.

Good luck, and stay in touch.

- Your friends at Freedmania

“Well, as most hockey moms and she-bears eventually discover, the campaign trail is a long and winding road,” said social editor Kinsey Williams, of the Ames, Iowa WorldView.”It’s exhausting. You;ve got your bus, and its filled with campaign spokesmen and spin managers and other close associates, your spouse or whomever. And at first it’s more or less neat and feels like an ‘adventure home’. But then the aisles begin to clog up with microwave burrito wrappers and homeless socks and you can’t remember what state you’re in, and you just can’t take any more of it. You want out.”

And her status would also be called into question. Right now, according to political analyst Lysle Overbay (no relation the the ballplayer Lyle Overbay) she stands as one of “America’s premiere political fruitcake figures.” But that only gives her so many swats at the apple. If she spends them all on an admittedly futile pursuit of the presidency, it would be difficult to take her seriously as a fruitcake again.

“She has every credential to assume the mantle worn for so many years by Eugene V. Debs and Harold Stassen,” said Overbay. “Even Eugene McCarthy, though he was only around for what, one or two elections.”

Though only 48 hours have passed since her withdrawal was announced, Palin has already become somewhat of a ‘Has-been’. Palin memorabilia, such as action dolls, which had been going for $6 – $7 dollars on Ebay, now fetch as much as $11. Replica faux-fashion accessories, stoles, handbags and whatever – have as much as doubled in price. That kitchenware left on the portch of her new home outside Phoenix and scorched by the passing wildfire, can only be purchased through a private brokerage, CF Clermont & Sons, of Tucson. Curiously, there has been no action on her Alaskan governmental papers.