Happy Traditionally-Assigned Birthday, Master Shakspere
Today is basically the 439th birthday of William Shakspere, Gent., of Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickshire. What a happy accident of History did this man meet with to be regarded still as the Author of the works of Shakespeare. It's not true, of course. He had no hand in those plays and poems, but you may as well believe it because, if you say otherwise, the humorless men in the white lab coats will come and shovel you off somewhere.

Have the Hook Now
Oh, I see. It's going to be the unborn child thing. Is Scott Peterson guilty of double homicide or just the one? Well, let's solve this right quick: the fetus was in its eighth month of gestation? In that case, it's not so much a fetus as it is a baby. And that makes it a double, bar-keep.

It's inconceivable that a man could do such a thing to his own wife and blood.

Just for the record, I am strongly pro-choice or pro-abortion or whatever the term. In fact, I encourage any pregnant woman anywhere who knows that she is unprepared for the responsibility of motherhood to do the right thing for herself and society and have the abortion. (Those who would, but don't, can hardly be truly reconciled to their choice later, can they?) Better it be done now and without surfeit of human attachment than to wait for that little darling to grow up and take my property at gunpoint.

But I'm talking about early on, not deep into the third trimester.

Really, my whole social philosophy can be derived from this one statement: anything that serves to humanely reduce or preclude the growing number of unwanted or disabled children in this world must be regarded as a social good. So, put on your jimmy-hats, take your pills, or just go beat your bishop or rock your gravy boat: you're all heroes in my Book.

Laci Peterson (Increasing My Traffic)
Alright, now, LOOK: when Orenthal Simpson murdered his ex-wife and her boyfriend, it was news (first) because he was famous. When JonBenet Ramsey was murdered by [someone who spent the time to make multiple drafts of a ransom letter on a notepad in her house, citing the exact amount of her father's Christmas bonus], it was interesting because ---well, who knew that rich suburban mothers sexualized their six year-old daughters that way? And when Gary Condit lied about his involvement with that nice Jewish girl, it was sorta interesting (to some) because he was obviously hiding something. Oh, and because he was a U.S. Congressman.

But what is the social or cultural relevance of the murder of Laci Peterson? What is the hook? I don't mean to be crass or glib or callous, but why is her murder of such excessive interest to this society? I know that she was pregnant and went missing just before Christmas, but is that what's driving this story? It's honestly a mystery to me. Yes, she was a beautiful woman. Yes, her disappearance (and, now, murder) are a great shame and difficult to understand. And, yes, her husband's behavior has been nothing but weird and disconnected...so maybe that's it. Maybe everyone knows he did it and have been waiting for the denouement. Well, here it is, folks. Now, how about killing the lights and letting her family grieve in peace?

When Does It Stop Being Physiological and Become Psychological?
Three, maybe four, times today already? Daydreaming about a cigarette, you know. How eminently reasonable it seems to gently pull a Winston from its pack, draw it past my nostrils a few times to enjoy the fragrance of unburnt tobacco, place it between my lips, take my lighter, and, concealing the whole marvelously sordid deed behind the screen of my left hand, light the end of that delivery device, and suck its smoke into my mouth where I let it waft out before the intake manifold of my nose. No more Ziggy Stardust sucking off into his mind, please. It's some sort of diabolical magnet. Grasp at the phantom object, look for the absent tool, miss the good tenth and forget the other bad nine. People don't quit because they know they can't. And will it help to recount what there is to regret and to count on what there might be to hope for? How much more pleasantly might I have passed this morning had I just allowed myself to revert to my old habit. Bah! Throw physick to the dogs! I'll none of it.

What Happened to KVUE 24's Bianca Balogh?
Anyone here in Austin know what happened to the oh-so-delicious Bianca Balogh? She was the heavenly vision masquerading as the weekend morning anchor on KVUE News. Jeeze, she didn't last long. Haughty and hottie don't always mix well.

Nothing to It
Smoked about a third of a bummed cigarette over at my friends' house tonight. Boring. There's nothing to it. And that's the attitude I need to keep. I hear that New Yorkers are pissing and moaning about Mayor Bloomberg trampling on their civil rights and making smoking such a pain in the ass, but so what? That's why I could never be a libertarian: because I don't believe that people know what's best for themselves in all cases. Is there any question that cigarette smoking is the single most destructive scam in the whole world? It's a long-term plot, but one worth pursuing: make smoking an anti-social habit and it will help poor bastards like me realize what needs to happen to help restore people's health.

Meteorological Madness
Here in Austin, Texas, where we have a minimum of six months of summer per year, the role of TV weatherman has assumed an importance far in excess of its actual value. We have a lot of well-respected meteorologists working for the various network affiliates and they've all been here since I was a kid. You know 'em: Murray, Spencer, Kimmel, Smith, et al. Now, these guys have been around long enough to be secure in their presentations and they only take a minimum of guff from the anchors, whose job it is to segue into and out of them with witty badinage. Not that they're so great at forecasting; they suck at that as much as the newest of the new. But, the point is that they are only somewhat less likely than the second tier of meteorological talent to give into the mindless whining that's sure to come with even the slightest indication of rain or cooler weather. It drives me insane when one of these people clucks and moans about how it's going to rain, as though the very thought might destroy all our plans and force us into gloomy, inhospitable shelters. Oh, just shut up! We haven't seen an inch of rain for almost two months and your impulse is to complain about how the kids might have to have an Easter egg hunt under umbrellas? What crap! Let it rain! Let it be cool! We've got six months of 90 degree-plus weather around the corner and humidity levels to match. So shut the hell up, already!!!

As for the war...
I am and have been a steadfast supporter of the Bush Doctrine, which is apparently a policy of kicking the ass of those states and cabals which advocate the triumph of Arab and Muslim fascism and terrorism over the liberty-loving culture of the Judeo-Christian West. It's really no great leap or any sort of value judgement for which any thinking American should have to spend much time in contemplation: you either believe that speaking your mind freely is superior to being arrested and tortured for your dissent or you don't. If you want to equivocate and hide behind the academic pretenses of moral relativism and NOT, as George Carlin might say, "step on that fuck before it reaches the children," then you will awake to another 11th of September and find that your "tolerance" was a vector to the disease that now will kill you. But it's not just Islamofascism that endangers us. Same goes for that hydrocephalic degenerate running North Korea. He, too, wants to die and spare himself the shame of knowing his own inferiority, but he's so wrapped up in being North Korea that it is nothing to him that millions of his subjects should die with him before his funeral pyre, turning to terra cotta soldiers in a disintegrating nuclear wind.

Anyhow, I am very proud of and grateful to those good men and women in our armed forces who are paying the price asked of them. They are brave beyond words and we owe them our deepest respect.

Props to The Corner on National Review Online
One of my favorite destinations on the internet is The Corner at National Review Online. Lots of rapid-fire, factoidal conservative goodness. I would certainly credit that blog with my desire to create my own here on Tripod. It should be a lot of fun. So long as I can overcome the great need to smoke a cigarette.

All Beware the Unsmoking God
I HAVE QUIT SMOKING and this web log is a mental toothpick or nipple or ice cube or piece of gum to help me resist the urge to SMOKE ANY AND ALL COMBUSTIBLE SUBSTANCES WITHIN MY REACH, BY GOD!!! Whew. It comes and goes like that. Long patches of calm (even nonchalance, oui?) punctuated by an urge to stick a long, smooth ---HEY! Cut it out. Now's no time for your gay impressions.

Anyhow, this is my web log. I'm not too sure if I'm doing everything correctly or if that contract I just agreed to doesn't include the surrender of my precious scrotality at some point, but we'll see.

It's a drizzly day here and I like it that way, see. Don't get me started on these meteorological hacks and the anchors who goad them. Sunshine, you see, is the very ideal. But, did you know that Christians call the day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday Black Saturday? Is that true or is it just something I scraped off of cable access?