As Christmas Day Winds Down...

At about 6:30 PM, tonight, The Blog hugged his visiting family members "good by," drugged up Mrs. Blog (who was suffering from severe back pain as a result of yesterday's 3 and a half hours in a dialysis chair) and tucked her into bed. The BlogDog joined her under the covers after devouring her nightly "Greenie™," leaving me, your humble PC to blow out the candles, rinse off the dishes, look back on a wonderful day filled with family, food, drink and gifts. Exhausted beyond the point of sleep.  Too wired to just call it a night and go to bed.

The Facebook newsfeed is a pleasant collection of pictures of trees, meals and family time.

That's nice. But, after 20 minutes, I had "Liked" every post that I could.

So, just a bit less than one year from the start of The Premature Curmudgeon blog, The Blog himself spent a couple of hours unwinding by reading past posts from the beginning.

I don't want to compare my stuff to an institution like "Saturday Night Live." But , like "SNL," for all of the "misses" (in the case of The Blog... typos, lazy posts and derailments of the train of thought,) there have been some posts that, if I may say so myself, are pretty damned good!

Not the least of which was The PC's prognostication, as far back as February, that Willard "Mitt" Romney would be the Republican candidate for president and that he would be unelectable.

If you are new to the blog, or, if you weren't here from the start, I would like to invite you to take some time to check out The Blog's archives.

Read.

Enjoy.

Be offended.

Have some fun with me!

The "comments" sections are still open on all blog posts. Chime in!

The Blog's stats show that I have readers from all over the world.

I would be thrilled if all of you would take a minute to become official "members."

And, I hope that your holidays were happy!

Let us look forward to, (or, face with trepidation and dread,) the new year.

Grinch

{*Note* It has taken me a couple of nights to put this post together. Working to get it posted before midnight.}

As we have established in past posts, The Blog is an unapologetic secular humanist.

Or, if you prefer, a Godless, atheist, liberal.

Whatever.

We have also established that this atheist loves Christmas.

The music.

The giving.

The receiving.

The lights and decorations.

The Advent Wreath.

The stories, the movies and the T.V. specials.

The PC has lamented the fact that some who identify as Christian are so wrapped up in "The Reason for the Season" that they miss the point.

Now, The Blog would never presume to speak for Jesus.

But, he suspects that if J.C. could speak directly to the sanctimonious, "CHRISTmas" crowd, he would say this....

"It's not about the person, people! It's about the message.

Peace on Earth. Goodwill toward all."

"And, yeah, I mean ALL. Not just men."

With that in mind, The Blog would like to say a few words about what he believes is the best secular Christmas story, ever.

                                            Dr. Seuss' "How the Grinch Stole Christmas."

For a whole lot of info about The Grinch, give the wikipedia page a gander.

Can you see why I consider this the best Christmas story, ever?

Message before the man. The way The Blog presumes that Big J.C. would want it.

Neither God nor Jesus is ever mentioned in the story.

Santa Clause is mentioned (and impersonated) but never appears. Suggesting that in Whoville, as in the real world, Santa is a symbol of the message of Christmas.

And, okay, maybe a way to keep the kids in line for, at least, one month a year.

And that message, one more time, is "Peace and goodwill."

The story of The Grinch is the ultimate story of redemption.

Yes, it has been told before.

In The Blog's second favorite Christmas story, Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol."

(It has just occurred to your old PC that Jim Carrey has played both The Grinch and Ebenezer  Scrooge on screen. Coincidence? I think so!)

The original Dr. Seuss book was published two years before The Blog was born. I assume that it was successful then, but, as The Blog was a mere Blogling at the time, I didn't really become aware of the story until 1966 when it was made into an animated special, directed by the only animator, at the time, up to the task of adapting Dr. Seuss. Chuck Jones. The Warner Brothers director was not only responsible for the best Bugs Bunny cartoons and all of The Roadrunner episodes, he has also tackled Seuss' "Horton" stories as WB shorts.

The TV special starred Boris Karloff as both the narrator and the voice of The Grinch. Possibly the most understated portrayal of the green guy that would ever occur!

And, oh! That song! Sung by the improbably named Thurl Ravenscroft, his basso profundo voice also known for his work for Disney ("Grim, Grinning Ghosts") and as Tony the Tiger.

Others lent their voices to The Grinch over the years, including Zero Mostel and Hans Conried.

Which brings us to the movie version.

It is fashionable to hate the movie version. But, I don't hate it. I thought that it was really well done.

Directed by Ron Howard and starring Jim Carey, they did what was necessary to make a story that took 30 minutes including commercial breaks to tell into a feature length movie.

But, it was beautifully made! The sets, costumes and make-up. The best of Hollywood!

I can't fault Jim Carrey, too much, for chewing the scenery. That is what he does.

And Taylor Momsen, adorable moppet that she was, was a little too old to play Cindy Lou Who ("who was no more than two.")

                                                                             Whoa!

Wait! No!

                                                              THIS adorable moppet!

Sorry. Google images came up with that first pic first. And The Blog is wondering how so much time has passed that Cindy Lou Who is now hot.

The Blog is feeling old!

Most recently, The Grinch has appeared on stage, on Broadway and on tour. Still chewing scenery. Still fun!

It is almost midnight, Christmas Eve. Time to wrap it up before Santa comes.

Merry Christmas to all of my bloglitts!

Don't overdo the Who pudding and go easy on the rare roast beast!

December 21, 2012

How is everyone doing?

Everyone still here?

Good.

Another Armageddon survived. The third in two years!

The Blog gets it that "end of the world" theories are fun to contemplate.

They make great Facebook memes and provide a good excuse for a party.

(Because, what other reason could there be to have a party in late December?)

But, the day has passed. We are still here.

Tomorrow we are all going to have to go pay our overdue credit card and cell phone bills.

We will, also, have to do our Christmas shopping.

We did get one really bad movie out of it.

                                                                            I'm talkin' to you Cusack!

Shit.

But, okay fine.

It's time to move on.

So, a couple of random thoughts....

After a week of silence and a deleted Facebook page and Twitter account, the N.R.A. via VP Wayne La Pierre staged a "news conference" (no questions from the press, thank you.)

In a surprise move (place sarcasm font here) La Pierre placed the blame on the Sandy Hook massacre on "video games and the liberal media," explaining that gun violence had nothing to do with, um, guns.

In fact, according to La Pierre, the solution to gun violence is.... wait for it.... more guns.

Jesus wept.

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Lindsey Lohan is in trouble again. The Blog does not know why, and, frankly, doesn't care enough to find out why.

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"Week Six" without Hostess.

America's nightmare continues.

The Blog doesn't give a shit about Twinkies.

                                                                    But, he is jonesing for some "Sno-Balls."

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We are well into "The Age of Aquarius."

"Harmony and understanding," they told us.

The Blog thinks that "Hair" may be based on bullshit.

-------------------------------------------

Congratulations are in order for the F.O.B. Stephanie Lynn, on her engagement.

That is all for tonight.

God, a Dog and the United States Postal Service

"Our 14-year-old dog Abbey died last month. The day after she passed away my 4-year-old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could so, and she dictated these words:

Dear God,
...
Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick.
I hope you will play with her. She likes to swim and play with balls. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her.

Love, Meredith

We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had.

Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, 'To Meredith' in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, 'When a Pet Dies.' Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note:

Dear Meredith,

Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help and I recognized her right away.

Abbey isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture in so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by.

Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I'm easy to find. I am wherever there is love.

Love, God

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The above is a post that has been making the Facebook rounds, lately.

It is a sweet and moving story.

If you read it without your eyes getting, at least a little bit, wet...

...then fuck you. You would have to be an unempathetic robot to not get emotional reading it! You probably don't like "A Charlie Brown Christmas" or "The Grinch," either.

                                                                        Your heart must be two sizes too small.

If that is the case, you probably aren't reading this blog anyway.

So who am I talking to?

Wait. What?

Oh! Right!

Getting back on track...

Here is the part of the story that isn't mentioned. The poster may not know this. You might not, either.

In virtually every city that has a Post Office, (which is all of them) there is a group of USPS employees who volunteer their time and some out-of-pocket funds to read every single letter that is addressed to God (and Santa Claus) and write responses to the most sincere and moving letters.

Those post office employees read these letters and respond to them on their own time, and pay for things like the Fred Rogers book mentioned in the post.

The Blog has talked about the awesome value of the USPS and why it should not be privatized in a post some months ago.

Postage is going up again, in a couple of months. To a whopping 50¢ a letter.

When that happens, right-wing bloviators...

                                                                             and a comic strip duck...

will pull out their usual anti-post office propaganda.

When that happens, remember this post.

United States postal workers are heroes, in their own small way.

They deserve our support. 

Spiderman versus Batman? A Debate...

Enough about politics, religion and guns, for now.

Let's address the truly important questions.

Who is the better superhero?

Spiderman or Batman? Who is cooler?

This is a response to a blog post that you can read here....

Go ahead! Read it. I'll wait....

Okay. Welcome back...

First, "...No Spiderman TV show?"

Beg pardon?

You call yourself a lifelong Spiderman fan, but you don't know that Spidey had a TV show for two seasons from 1977 to 1979?



                           Here it is!

The Blog can forgive the general lameness of the spandex and screen print costume  because of two words...

Mirrored Lenses!

Way cool!

Now, let's move on to the "10 Reasons..."

1. "He spins webs..."

     The whole spinning an organic web substance from his wrists thing was an                   
     invention of the Sam Raimi movies. And, since that was used as a hilarious and      
     insightful analogy for pubescent, premature ejaculation, it was sort of the   
     antithesis of "cool." And, it was abandoned in the reboot.

     In all other incarnations, including the comic books and animated TV series,   
     Spidey's web shooters were gadgets.

    And, while it is impressive that a high school student invented such a thing,
    Wayne Enterprises may have experimented with something like that, but the   
    science supports grappling hooks and "Bat-Ropes" as more plausible.

    And, about that webbing... Who had to clean all of that shit up when Spidey was 
    done? The NYC taxpayers, I would guess. Batman's ropes are reusable and do  
    not litter the streets of Gotham.
   
    To be fair, Peter Parker must be in touch with his feminine side. NTTIAWWT! 
    But, only the female arachnid spins webs.

    Just sayin'.

    Webbing vs. Bat-Ropes... A draw.

2. "He has a girlfriend..."

     Yes, he does. Mary Jane "M.J." Watson. He married her, eventually.

      Before M.J., there was Gwen Stacey.

      That's cool. Peter Parker is a kid. He's too young for any sort of permanent  
      relationship. He will, eventually, earn his permanent relationship with M.J.

      Mazel Tov!

      Bruce Wayne is young, rich, handsome and, considering his nighttime   
      activities, just not ready to settle down. He plays the field. As far as "fanboy"   
      fantasy goes, that way trumps Spidey's serial monogamy.

     And, in the end, two words... Selina Kyle.

     That's right! Catwoman!

     How do you like him now?

     M.J. vs. Catwoman... Point to Batman.

3. "He isn't  wearing underpants on the outside..."

     This is true.

     In the early "Black and Gray" days it seem to be the case.

     As a fashion statement, that puts him in good company with Superman and  
     Madonna.
    
     But, at least Bats is wearing underpants.

     According to "The Amazing Spiderman" star, Andrew Garfield, his Spidey  
     costume was so tight, he couldn't wear underpants.
 
     In a rubber suit!

     That is gross, sweaty and TMI!

     Point to Batman.

4. "He can kiss upside down..."

      Point to Spidey.

5. "He isn't afraid of spiders or bats..."

      Young Bruce Wayne was afraid of bats. He grew up, dominated his fear and     
      now calls bats his friends.

      Spidey was bitten by one spider. No fear. Just an encounter. It is never
      mentioned again.

      Point to Batman for channeling his phobia.

6. "He doesn't need a sidekick..."

      According to the early years of Batman's "Detective Comics," Frank Miller's   
     "Batman: Year One," and Tim Burton and Chris Nolan, Batman doesn't need a   
      sidekick, either. He just got saddled with one. And, hey. There is nothing  
      wrong with having a team!

      *An aside... The Blog has always found Robin irritating. An unnecessary
       addition, dictated by a need to appeal to a young demographic. Two
       exceptions...

       The third Robin... Batman first encountered street urchin Tim Drake when the  
        young Master Drake was stealing the tires off the Batmobile.
 
        That is pretty bad ass!

        "The Dark Knight Returns" Carrie Kelly was the first distaff Robin.
   
         Funny how, as recently as the mid 1980s, the idea of a teen girl as Robin was  
         considered "edgy."*

         Point to Batman.

7. "He can stick to a wall unaided..."
  
     See the above about the 1977 TV series.

     A draw.

8. "He is colorful, not dowdy..."

    " To each his own," they say.

       Batman is "The Dark Knight." He works in the shadows in the night.

       Spidey is kind of a show off.

       And, a wise ass.

      Two different style choices.

      Therefore, A draw.

9. "His real name isn't two first names..."
 
     Seriously?

     So fucking what?

     Point to Batman.

10. "He's never been played by George Clooney..."

       This is true.

       And, while Andrew Garfield is probably "hotter" than Tobey Maguire, (In a
       sparkly Twilight vampire sort of way,)  Tobey was far more plausible than
       Garfield as the semi-nerdy Peter Parker.

       The fact is, George Clooney was probably the best cast Bruce Wayne/ Batman, 
       ever. Unfortunately, he was saddled with a God-awful script and a camp-fest, 
       drag queen director.

       Spidey has benefited, as Batman did not, by never being directed by Barry    
       Sonnenfeld, while being played by Neil Patrick Harris.

       Not that there is anything wrong with that.

To be clear.... The Blog loves his friendly neighborhood Spiderman!

But, superior to Batman? Never!

To sum up...

No prepubescent fanboy could ever, realistically, hope to get super powers from a radioactive spider.

But, with enough money and enough training, he could aspire, as unlikely as it would seem to be, Batman.

"Excelsior!"



     

   


    

Some Thoughts About the Connecticut Shootings

(A note from The Blog...

I started writing this Friday night. Since then, some new revelations have surfaced. I am going to post the following as I wrote it and will insert comments and links to news stories where it seems appropriate. I have also replaced some "todays" and "this mornings" with "Fridays" where the need to be.)

                       ---------------------------------------------------------------------

Newtown.

Sandy Hook.

Names of places so quaint and evocative of idyllic, small town life that they seem almost fictional.

Early Friday morning, the news didn't so much "break," but rather, seemed to seep slowly through tiny fractures in the masonry of reality.

A shooting at a school in Connecticut. Unknown injuries. Identity of the gunman, unknown.

The second shooting of the sort in less than a week. The fourth (at least) in the past year.

How many in the last decade or so?

Columbine High School, 1999

Los Angeles Jewish Community Center, 1999

Virginia Tech, 2007

The Museum of Tolerance,  2009

Fort Hood, 2009

The D.C Snipers, 2010

Gabby Giffords, Tucson, 2011

Aurora, Colorado, 2012

Oregon Mall, 6 days ago

Sandy Hook Elementary School, Friday

(A quick glance at my Google search for "Mall Shooting" shows that several other mall shootings occurred in 2012, including one in Wisconsin and one in Indiana. I should also include the massacre in the Orange County, CA beauty salon about a year ago.)

And America shook it's head and shrugged.

"Another typical news cycle in today's America."

But, as the morning turned to afternoon, the fractures widened and became cracks. And with each new revelation, the story became more and more horrifying.

Twenty first grade students dead. Seven adults, including the school principal, a student teacher, {*insert* Maybe not a student teacher, after all. But a young, new teacher} a school psychologist and the shooter's own Kindergarden teacher mother, dead.  (Or, maybe she wasn't a kindergarden teacher. And, maybe not even connected to the Sandy Hook school. The media can't seem to pin this information down.)

The shooter, a boy in his late teens, dead by his own hand.

According to the shooter's brother, the young gunman "may" have had Asperger's Syndrome and a "personality disorder."

{A fascinating article about the shooter and what is known about him appears here and gives us new, and even more horrifying insight.}

According to the police, the shooter was in possession of two 9mm handguns (a Glock and a Sig Sauer,) and an assault rifle.

All three weapons were registered to the shooter's mother. {Newer reports tell us that she was a gun collector who went to great lengths to purchase and license a number of guns, as, it would seem, a hobby. And, to protect her home from whatever she thought that her home would need protecting from. It would seem that she is what The Blog would think of as a "gun nut," driven by fear and paranoia. She taught her children how to use them. [As she should in a household with guns.] It seems to me that that didn't turn out so well for her.)

Predictably, within the first few hours of the shooting, both sides of the gun debate took the opportunity to politicize the tragedy.

Those of you who know me, or have followed my posts over the past year, know where I come down on the issue of guns. But, my intent with this post is not to argue the politics of guns.

The purpose of this post is not to argue for gun control. I have done so in the past and will do so in the future.

Right now, I just want to make a few random observations and ask a few questions.

What possible reason did a Kindergarden teacher (?) with two sons own two police grade handguns and an assault rifle? {We now know the answer. She was a gun "collector."}  And why were they so easily accessible to a young son with a "personality disorder?" (See the link above.)

Why has the shooter been described as "maybe" having Asperger's Syndrome and a "personality disorder." Why, in the affluent world of Newtown, wasn't the son of a teacher definitively diagnosed and treated?

(BTW... while there are several definitions of "personality disorder" available, psychosis and sociopathy are the big, bad ones. And, while not all Asperger's patients are sociopaths, a great many sociopaths also present with Asperger's. But, before anyone fires up their poison pens, let me clarify that I am not suggesting for a minute that Asperger's was the reason for the shooter's violence. It's the "personality disorder" that concerns me. Some of the world's most brilliant and successful people have Asperger's and have, as far as I know, never killed anyone.)

How did the shooter get such easy access to his mother's weapons?

That seems to be the big question.

We may get those answers as the investigation continues.

Or, we may not.

Believe it or not, The Blog has no less than three personal friends who make their living selling guns to the general public. All three are legitimate, licensed dealers. As far as I know, none of them operate by selling fear, unlike the shop that I posted about several months ago.

But, before Friday had passed, all three of my gun dealing friends had scrambled to defend guns and proclaim that this is a mental health problem.

While I don't entirely agree with the first part, I agree 100% with the second part.

As I said, I am not here tonight to argue. This is a worthy discussion for a future date. Probably soon.

But, two posts from an old college buddy, who got his dealer's license less than a year ago, really caught my eye and I feel compelled to comment on them.

Before I do, let me say, "I get it." Selling firearms is the way you make your living. I would expect you to defend that. You tell us that guns themselves are not the problem, bad people are. And, to some extent, you are right.

But, it is much the same thing as when I say that daytime, informational talk shows exist solely to educate and benefit the public, while ignoring the fact that they also exist to, primarily, entertain the public as something of a freak-show that enriches the production company and the networks.

It is our human nature to develop a bit of "Stockholm Syndrome" regarding whatever business provides our paychecks.

My friend "Jim" (not his real name) posted this...

His point is factual.

But, I have to ask.

Who, "Jim," do you suggest should have been armed at Sandy Hook?

The teachers? Like they don't have enough responsibility already? The principal? Ditto.

Besides, have you ever seen the 1982 movie, "Class of 1984?"

In one scene, Roddy McDowall as a teacher at the end of his rope, is dealing with a class of hellions. He pulls a gun out of his desk and starts firing it into the ceiling.

Because, really.

A teacher with a gun will get to that point. And that is not a good thing.

Security guards already wander the halls of our schools. (When I was a kid, only the school custodian and a few stoners wandered the halls of our school. But, I guess, it's a different world, today.)

So, who's left?

Should a bunch of 6 and 7-year-olds come to school strapped? (Yes, that is an ad absurdum argument. The whole argument is absurd.)

He followed up with this "statistic..."

Um, actually, no.

Firearms are the number one weapon used in homicides. Blunt objects, including baseball bats, come in at number four.

Nice try, though.

Okay. I think that that is enough about this for now. We can talk about things like gun control and mental health at a later date.

For now, my thoughts and sympathy go out to the people of Newtown. As I am sure yours do, too.

Next post...

Something frivolous to lighten the mood.

See you then!

Tonight's Post Delayed

Gathering my thoughts about todays horrific tragedy. It's late, so I will post tomorrow.