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December 21, 2007
Kiss My Asterisk
How about we just put an asterisk next to any athlete who was not on Performance Enhancement Drugs or HGH and set a record?
A first baseman ends the season at 120 pounds and three months later shows up for spring training at 250 pounds, homicidal and bug-eyed with a fire hydrant for a neck. A washed up 46 year old pitcher hobbles to the mound on a walker one season and next season throws 124 mph fastballs. Wow, he must have really worked hard in the off-season. Or gone to Lourdes.
The entire sports industrial complex conspired in baseball’s version of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. And I have enjoyed watching pouty, teary meltdowns of sports commentators whose inner boychild is hurt, deeply hurt, by the revelation that their heroes used drugs to enhance and prolong their careers. I especially enjoy it when the commentators themselves have obviously had eye jobs, botox injections, follicular implants to enhance and prolong their careers under the unforgiving lens of HDTV.
While we’re at it, let’s put an asterisk next to George Bush’s name, because he really only ever wanted to be commissioner of baseball, not president of the United States. Of course if he had been a baseball comish dealing with drug use, he would have announced that for the good of the sport he was invading curling.
No insult to Yogi Berra, but George has the same rhetorical flair. Of course Yogi was the manager of the Yankees not head of the US of A. Who said the following: “I didn’t really say everything I said.” “If they don’t want to come, you can’t stop them.” “A nickel ain’t worth a dime anymore.”
Oh heck, let’s put an asterisk next to every financial “manager” too, from the financial yogis at Bear Sterns right down to my mortgage go-for-broker at Countrywide. The first Bush presided over the Savings and Loan collapse. This Bush is presiding near the ongoing collapse of the housing and banking markets. Bush used the White House as an ATM for the rich. When the balloon mortgage burst, the middle class could no longer use their houses as ATMs. Who said: “We make too many wrong mistakes.” George didn’t. He doesn’t. When God speaks through you, you don’t make mistakes.
And by the way, if Barry Bonds goes to jail, and Roger Clemens doesn’t, I’m trading my baseball cards for race cards.
December 19, 2007
Shipment Delay: Kate Clinton 25th Anniversary Tour DVD
Dear Friends,
Thank you for your recent order of KATE CLINTON: 25TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR on DVD. Unfortunately our distributor has just informed us that they will not able to ship the first pre-release DVD's until the first week of January. If your order was for a holiday gift, we will be happy to mail you a lovely gift card stating that the recipient will be receiving their DVD in early January. Since the commercial release date is actually January 22, they will still amongst the first to own it.
Please let me know if you need a gift card sent to you and we'll get it out immediately. Otherwise, expect your order to arrive in early January.
I am sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused you and assure you lots of laughter upon its arrival.
Happy Holidays!
Warm Regards
Andrea Meyerson
President, All Out Films
Office: 310.452.2525
Fax: 310.452.5552
www.alloutfilms.com
All Out Films@aol.com
December 17, 2007
K8T Asks: If you were a beauty pageant contestant, what clever ploy would you use to get yourself some extra press?
Kate wants to hear from you! The next question of the week, straight from Kate, is: "If you were a beauty pageant contestant, what clever ploy would you use to get yourself some extra press? The Pepper Spray Strategery has already been used."
To get your voice heard, simply hit the Comment link below and tell her what you think! No registration is necessary, and you can post anonymously if you want.
December 14, 2007
I Don’t Heart Huckabee
For my high school graduation, I asked for and received a doctor’s supervised diet. After the weigh-in and the weekly shot of “vitamins”, my doctor, who was later disbarred for amphetamine abuse, gave me a thought for the week. One week his homily was about the flames of hell. He told me that they burned very verily hot because of all the fat.
People have a grudging respect for Bush because he’s been able to maintain his weight for seven years. That’s all he’s been able to maintain. Remember all the hooting at the pictures of Bill Clinton in his jogging shorts? Now that he has a perfect body mass index, he is internationally beloved.
Primary voters can say what they want, but the reason they like Huckabee is that he lost one hundred pounds. You can never be too thin or too insane. On foreign and economic policy he is a lightweight, but the spirit of a fat guy is still in him. Not Santa. No. Jerry Falwell might have blowed up real good and died, but his ideas are alive and well in the reverend Huckabee.
Forget the homophobia once removed of the debate on gay marriage. The rev goes right for the gays. Though it pains him to say it, he must say that homosexuality is an aberrant, unnatural and sinful lifestyle. He’s dragging out that claptrap about love the sinner: hate the sin. And don’t kid yourself, he hates them both, the sinner and the sin. For him, quarantining people with HIV is not a matter of homophobia. It’s a matter of public health and safety. Don’t do me any favors, former fat boy.
One undecided voter in Iowa said that Huckabee lost her vote when he scoffed that there is no global warming in Iowa. She said they used to have snow, now they just have ice storms. Her business, Bees of Iowa, has been harmed by the global warming.
Although I am a secular fundamentalist, tonight before I go to sleep, I am going to eat two Twinkies and pray for a Huckabee Colony Collapse.
December 07, 2007
K8T Asks: Under what circumstances should George Bush ever be allowed to talk about "intelligence"?
Kate wants to hear from you! The next question of the week, straight from Kate, is: Under what circumstances should George Bush ever be allowed to talk about "intelligence"?
To get your voice heard, simply hit the Comment link below and tell her what you think! No registration is necessary, and you can post anonymously if you want.
December 06, 2007
Our State of Affairs is a Great State Fair
Though I was born in Buffalo, when I was ten we moved to Syracuse, “the home of the New York State Fair!” my mother chirped excitedly like some Central New York Booster on speed. I already hated summer fairs, having been dragged through the baby goat barn at the Erie County Fair. I always dreaded summer’s end, not because school was about to start up and I hadn’t lost ten pounds, but because the State Fair was about to begin.
That meant being unable to beg off attending, by claiming I was perfecting my jack-knife at the city pool. On thee hottest day, we would sit stuck in traffic, bare backs of legs stuck to the leatherette of our Ford Fairlane, park in an open scrub field, knowing that we would never see our car again, slog with other family pods to the long lines at the arching gates into a shadeless hell.
The fairgrounds were located next to the Bristol-Meyers plant and Crucible steel mill that everyone knew was dumping into Onondaga Lake. The annual spring regatta generally had the slowest times because no life-respecting coxswain wanted to win and get tossed into the lake. Supposedly the site has been eco-vacuumed, to make room for the Carousel Mall, but friends say that if you toss a cigarette butt, the parking lot will ignite. ‘Third eye’ takes on new meaning. That vision has prompted some local developers to expand and build “Destiny” a mall bigger than the Pentagon shaped mall in Minnesota.
On humid hot fair days the yellowish chemical air carried fried dough particulate from the Midway. The festival of junk food mocked the goody-two shoes Home Ec Pavilion. Even at ten, I pitied performers, squinting and sweating on the mainstage. Loser! Your career is over! Because of early gyroscopic, inner ear damage from spinning/falling down contests with my brothers, I hate rides. If you ever see a picture of me, hair blown back, in mid-Munch scream, elbows locked, it will be me on the stationary horse on the carousel. I loved the hostility of bumper cars, but that was just me blowing off steam.
All this to perhaps explain why I loathe Iowa. The Gateway to the Rectangular States. Not even three million people. All of them farmers who’ve got nothing better to do than pout if a candidate doesn’t have a meal at their house, wear their “I Heart Huckabee” button and pretend to be undecided so they can get face time on camera, and caucus endlessly.
The harvest is in and the fields are fallow. If they farm at all. The farm subsidy pyramid scam actually pays them not to plant. They feel terrible about it. Then when they’re done deciding the fate of the nation, the Children of the Corn State put on their mesh caps, hop in their giant mobile homes, at three bucks a gallon and head on down to some trailer parks for a few months on the Gulf. Jaw with their friends in the Iowa enclave about the sorry state of the world.
Hey, they make up stories about Manhattanites all the time. They hiss we are a Ssssssssanctuary City. We are Sodom and Gomorrah. Oh, and the hotel room rates are too high. I resent America held hostage to Iowa. I hate the roller coaster ride of campaigns, especially because it starts in Iowa. Where are those bumper cars when I need them?
PS – Iran doesn’t have nuclear weapons just like they don’t have gay people. I have it on the best of intelligence.
December 05, 2007
Last Stop
Right after my wonderful, rocking, kick-ass show at the lovely
Birchmere in Arlington, VA, I hopped a train back to NYC, then a plane
to Ptown for the Thanksgiving break. When I got to Ptown the furnace
wouldn’t turn on, the internet wasn’t working and the Jeep wouldn’t
start. I can see why everyone needs a house butch.
All that to say that the Birchmere, the last stop on the 2007 Climate
Change Tour was unremarked upon in these blogpages. And it should not
be so dustbinned because there were laughs, Corona Lites and fried food
aplenty. I promised that the next time I return there on November, 14,
2008, it will be to celebrate a new regime.
Despite a bad case of Bush Fatigue, the audience had a great time. We
don’t want anyone to feel left out, so we recorded the festivities for
an 8th comedy collection, perfectly called Kate Clinton: Climate
Change! And it will be available to you in March just in time for your
Women’s History Month Gift Giving. We think of everything.
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