Rambling Rhodes

Whoa.

As illustrations of utter destruction go, this is pretty unreal.

CBS Report

So, if CBS is to be believed, and there's really no reason that they should be, they're supposed to, today, release the results of their investigation into Dan Rather's September 60 Minutes II broadcast that, later, was revealed to have relied on documents that were quite obviously, and amateurishly, forged, although CBS seems almost allergic when it comes to admitting that uncomfortable fact.

I'm very eager to see the results of this investigation. From a journalistic point of view, I find it fascinating, as well as irritating. I don't hold out much hope that the report will actually contain anything of substance or anything, of course.

Close Call?

I have a laundry-list of pet peeves when it comes to using public bathroom stalls. In addition to things like this, I also positively shudder when I sit down on a toilet seat that's still radiating the warmth of the person who shat before me.

It's one of those things that just jump starts my brain and gets me thinking of all sorts of scenarios regarding the person who pooped previously. Was it someone I know? Were they reading a magazine? How long were they sitting here? Things like that.

Well, today, just a few short minutes ago, in fact, I experienced a public-toilet-stall situation that I immediately added to my list of pet peeves.

One thing that I've always just generally undertood to be common toilet stall etiquette is the act of checking for feet in each stall. It doesn't have to be an act of getting down on your hands and knees and peering intently or anything; just a nice, casual glance downward to see if there are some shoes shuffling around down there, indicating stall occupation. Granted, it's not foolproof, but it's probably effective 99 percent of the time.

And I understand that, particularly in the workplace, people just kind of unconsciously develop an affinity for a particular stall; a favorite, if you will. I, too, have my favorite work stall and I, too, feel a pang of disappointment when I see feet shifting around within my favorite stall because it means I have to squat in unfamiliar territory. But, at least I always check for feet, and I move on, though disappointedly, when feet are encountered.

Well, today, I'm sitting there, in an unfamiliar stall, because my favorite was occupied, which I ascertained through appropriate foot-glancing. I was pooping, catching up on the latest issue of eWeek, when someone came barging into the bathroom.

And then the mystery bathroom barger went and slammed up against my toilet stall door, trying to gain entry.

Which. . .

There are several, minor, butt-clenching moments the typical person experiences on any given day. Perhaps you decide to run a late yellow traffic light, or maybe someone cuts you off suddenly on the Interstate, or maybe the family pet simply startles you when you're rounding the corner. All of these may result in a minor, quick clenching of the buttocks.

It's an instinctual "fight or flee" reflexive action, I imagine, a product passed on genetically from our simian ancestors, who had to clench off a turd in mid-effort in order to outrun a hungry tiger. So, I understand where it comes from.

But, when someone tries gaining entrance into your public toilet stall, and makes a considerable amount of noise in the process, while you're blissfully reading an issue of eWeek, the startle-factor, and the instinctive butt clench that accomodates it, is more than just minor; it's considerably pronounced.

It was so pronounced, in fact, that a tiny sprittle of pee went arcing up and over the toilet seat, settling in the boxer shorts that were in a crumpled mass around my ankles.

And then the toilet stall assailant just kind of stood there, apparently not fully realizing that the stall was locked for a reason. Check for the feet, man!!

"There's someone in here!" I finally offerred, hoping to defuse the tense situation.

No movement. Either this guy just didn't understand, or he was really, really upset that his favorite stall was occupied. A few shuffling steps in front the stall occurred, and then finally, FINALLY, the unknown would-be crapper moved on down the row of stalls to a different toilet.

I sat there awhile, pondering the incident, thinking for some reason that I had just experienced a really close call of some sort, although I couldn't figure out what that close call actually was.

But, it definitely made my list of pet peeves. Check for feet, man, that's all I'm saying.

Important Odd News

Don't throw a tantrum in a German court:

A German man, angered by a court decision, was left even more out of pocket (200 Euros) when a judge gave him an extra fine for storming out of the court and slamming the door hard, authorities said on Thursday.

But the man is fighting back, and he offers up some brilliant legal maneuvering:

The man, who had been involved in a property usage dispute with neighbors, had appealed the fine on the grounds the door had slipped out of his hand as he left the courtroom.

In other "Dude, Change The Channel" news, we have this item:

Watching contestants eat dead rats on NBC's gross-out stunt show "Fear Factor" so disgusted a Cleveland man that he has sued NBC for $2.5 million, saying he could not stomach what he saw.

Austin Aitken said the show caused his blood pressure to rise so high that he became dizzy and light-headed, and when he ran away to his room, he bumped his head into the doorway.

One may suspect that Mr. Aitken probably doesn't expect to win $2.5 million for his gastronomic discharge, but you have to give him credit for trying to get money where he can:

In a brief telephone interview with Reuters, Aitken said, "I am not at liberty to discuss the complaint unless it is a paid-interview situation."

Moving on to more evil matters, we learn that Colombian drug traffickers surgically hid heroin in puppies' bellies in a plan to evade international customs controls, police said on Tuesday.

Gawd.

ANOTHER UPDATE: For no reason, here's Beyonce Knowles. Beyonce Knowles . Beyonce Knowles . Beyonce Knowles. Beyonce Knowles. Beyonce Knowles. Beyonce Knowles. Beyonce Knowles. Beyonce Knowles..

Selling out, because I'm a sell-out like that

You are my valued readers, and as such I feel I should inform you that now, Rambling Rhodes, your daily dose of complete and utter nonsense, is officially a sell-out. You will notice two ads to the right, just above my blogroll of frequently-visited sites.

Any time someone deigns to click on those ads, this blog will get paid. Oh, it won't get paid much, probably a penny or so, maybe a nickel if I'm really lucky, but I can assure you that all proceeds will most likely go to my expanding addiction to Diet Pepsi.

The ad engine I opted for, thanks primarily due to reader comment feedback (and also because BlogAds never got back to me), is AdSense. They are good people, the people at AdSense. I know this because of no particular reason other than the fact they got back to me, and BlogAds didn't.

At any rate, because I'm now officially a sell-out, I fully endorse all sell-outs everywhere, except for those I don't endorse, and you know who you are. As such, if I see a AdSense advertisement on your site, I will dutifully click it, as I can only assume you're extending to me the same courtesy.

I may not get rich, but at least I'll remain sufficiently caffeinated.

UPDATE: And, no, I have no idea why the ads right now feature cow-related content, but yes, I do think it's very funny.

ANOTHER UPDATE: Can you get any more niche than a Web site called simplybovine.com?

UPDATE AGAIN: CATTLE SLAUGHTERLINES?!! This whole AdSense thing is providing more laughs than I could have possibly imagined.

ANOTHER IMPORTANT UPDATE: As of 11:30 a.m., I've managed to earn $1.28 in AdSense click-through revenue, which is .18 cents more than I need for a 20 oz. quencher of Diet Pepsi from IBM vending machines. As far as I'm concerned, AdSense has now paid for itself, which shouldn't be all that hard to do, seeing as how it's free.

Just Because It's Wednesday, And I Can. . .

So, last week, I missed out on what was, quite probably, the most ripe opportunity in the world to annihilate Nick Coleman, the increasingly irrelevant columnist seated at the Minneapolis Star-Tribune. Although picking apart his column today is kind of like gnawing at dried bones, I figured it would be a nice little exercise to warm me up for the rest of the day. Let's begin, shall we?

The imposing statue of Col. William Colvill was still at its post above the rotunda of the Minnesota State Capitol Tuesday, standing guard at the opening of a new legislative session.

Where the hell else would it be? It's a freakin' statue. Unless Bart Simpson came along and sawed its head off, I'd pretty much expect it to be right where it was yesterday, intact and everything. Of course, this is just a hamfisted segue into a Nick Coleman history lesson, which you can be sure he learned following 30 minutes of Googling.

But it's good that the hero of Gettysburg wasn't on hand in person to see how things in his adopted state are going. He might have walked out.

*rim shot* *crickets chirping* *uncomfortable cough somewhere from the back of the room*

Colvill, who was born in New York, was the commander of the fabled First Minnesota Infantry, the volunteer Civil War regiment that made a sacrificial bayonet charge on the second day of the three-day battle at Gettysburg. Eighty-two percent of the regiment fell at Gettysburg, helping to turn the tide of the war against the South.

Wow. Three paragraphs in, and we still have no idea what this is all about. I would almost say that's a Nick Coleman record, but it probably isn't. Good history lesson, though. Thanks Nick.

It's appropriate to consider the sacrifices of Colvill and his men this year, as we celebrate the 100th birthday of the Capitol. Because some of what they fought for seems in jeopardy from a growing tide of Know-Nothing-ism and prejudice.

What? Minnesota is about to reinstate slavery?!!

As documented in a recent study by the University of Minnesota's Humphrey Institute, the mood of many Minnesotans, especially in "exurbia," has turned increasingly hostile toward immigrants and refugees.

Wait a minute. Wait just a minute here. The Civil War was fought to stem the tide of hostility towards immigrants and refugees? Who knew?

Many people who have never met an immigrant other than at a convenience store service counter want them to stop with all the foreign gibberish and learn to talk the local lingo. Pronto. ("Pronto" is Italian, but let's skip over that).

Yeah, and most of that entire paragraph has its roots in Latin, but skip over that, too. You also just have to love that Coleman automatically assumes, with no research or evidence to back up his claim, that many people have never met an immigrant who wasn't behind a convenience store service counter. Talk about stereotyping! Criminey.

Which brings me to a Know-Nothing proposal from a 28-year-old state representative named Brad Finstad. I don't usually pick on kids who are still wet behind the ears, but this one deserves a spanking.

Yeah, because going after three, more mature, bloggers, resulted in Coleman getting smacked down on a nationwide scale. Best to pick on the young whipper-snappers of the world to avoid such tail-tucking embarrassment.

Young Bradley, a second-term Republican from New Ulm, wants to require new arrivals to learn English in a year or lose their state benefits. I'd like to see Bradley learn a new language in a year, but his plan communicates something:

Minnesota Nice is morphing toward Minnesota Nasty.

So, let's see if I understand this. Here we have Brad Finstad, a political young pup with an arguably bad idea, an idea that, in almost all liklihood, has a snowball's chance in hell of being taken seriously, let alone passing, yet Coleman feels this ill-advised proposal is groundbreaking enough to prompt a statue of Col. William Colvill to up and walk away?

Finstad's district is 97 percent white and 98 percent American-born. Non-English speakers are not exactly a hot issue in the beer halls of New Ulm, where English is spoken with a Minnesota twist, including a strong German syntax, such as in the sentence, "Anybody want to come with?"

Gott im Himmel.

I've been to New Ulm. Many times, in fact. My grandmother lives in a small town just a few miles outside of New Ulm. It is gleamingly white in population makeup. I can't deny that. But, my question for Nick is: why is being white, and American born, apparently, such a monumental crime? Would he be less indignant, for example, if New Ulm consisted more of an 80 percent mix of Hispanics, Chinese, Ugandans and Saudis? But, because New Ulm consists of such an entirely white populace, the entire community is somehow worthy of contempt and derision, with a German twist, even.

The good folk of New Ulm should be embarrassed that a representative of the home of Hermann the German is trying to make political hay off the backs of non-English speakers. Not long ago, mein kinder, the boot was on the other foot.

Oh, NOW they're the good folk of New Ulm? You know, after Coleman basically called them beer-hall-sodden whities. Also, I'm sure you're all aware, it's time for another Google-based history lesson, courtesy of Nick Coleman.

During World War I, New Ulm was the target of prejudice and persecution. When a rally was held in the town to declare the town's loyalty to the United States but to oppose the drafting of German-Americans to fight their Old World cousins, state officials cracked down harshly.

The mayor and city attorney were removed from office, German-language schools were closed, German books were banned. Residents of New Ulm were pressured to sign loyalty oaths and to buy war bonds by vigilante committees that examined each family's net worth and decided if enough bonds had been purchased to -- in the words of one official -- "bring themselves into the ranks of American citizens."

And, all of that, mind you, is completely analogous to a 28-year old representative proposing legislation that, almost certainly, has no chance in the world of actually passing. Totally the same thing.

This fascist episode helps explain why, to this day, many heavily German communities keep a low profile in a state where the largest single ethnic group is German.

And Nick knows this. . . how, exactly? Yep. New Ulm, in fact, wants to keep such a low profile that it went and named the town. . . New Ulm. And they're sticking with it! Those low profile German bastards!!

For an elected official from New Ulm to purport that new arrivals be subjected to the kind of treatment his forebears received is a disgrace.

For the record here, I feel I must point out something. Keep in mind that I totally think the proposed legislation is largely a bunch of BS. Anyway, Finstad's proposal advocates requiring immigrants in Minnesota to start learning English and apply for U.S. citizenship sooner in order to qualify for welfare benefits. Cross-check that with: The mayor and city attorney were removed from office, German-language schools were closed, German books were banned.

DAMN YOU, FIIIINNSSSTAAAAAD!! YOU FASCIST BASTARD!

"He doesn't understand the history of his own people," says retired University of Minnesota Prof. Hy Berman. "If he is German, his ancestors experienced linguistic repression."

Nothing augments a crappy column better than the astute observations of a retired U of M professor, who was a professor of what, exactly? If he was a professor of dental hygiene, that would be nice to know.

I don't know if Finstad has any German in him. He didn't return my call Tuesday. But he represents New Ulm, and so he ought to know better. And because he represents New Ulm, I have a few names I'd like to mention to Young Bradley:

First off: he didn't return his CALL. Singular. Great probing, investigative journalism there, Nick. Really went after that Finstad pup, you did.

Jacob Geistreiter. Henry Winters. Peter Vosz. Clark Brandt. William Miller. Joseph Schumacker. John Hauser. Julius Edler. Frederick Glave. Peter Marks. Henry Nickel.

God bless you, Google.

They all came from Germany or German-speaking Prussia. And they all died at Gettysburg, along with other Minnesota soldiers born in Sweden, Switzerland and other countries. They all knew enough English to say, "The Union Forever," but probably not much more.

Got that? Those Civil War heroes! The only English they knew was, according to Coleman, "The Union Forever." Criminey.

Did some of them learn English well enough -- and fast enough -- to satisfy Finstad? Maybe. But even if they didn't, I'm guessing Young Bradley would agree that they were good Americans after they died for their country.

Our country.

Sooooo, German-speaking Americans, fighting in the Civil War, are tantamount to immigrants seeking welfare in New Ulm. Gotcha, Nick. Great leap in logic there. I'm surprised you didn't break every bone in your body when you fell following a leap that didn't even get you 1/5 of the way across the chasm.

And it's time, once again, for a Nick Coleman history lesson. Take it away, Nick.

One hundred years ago, during the first year of our beautiful State Capitol, Col. Colvill was supposed to lead a procession carrying the First Minnesota's battle flags from the old Capitol building to the new one for installation in the rotunda. But the old warhorse, who was badly wounded at Gettysburg, died in his sleep the night before. Instead of bearing his bullet-torn battle flags, he was carried into the Capitol himself and laid in state -- the first Minnesotan given that honor -- while former comrades filed past his casket.

Bullet-torn battle flags. Died in his sleep. Comrades filing past his casket. I'm drowning in tears here. DROWNING, I TELL'S YA!

I want you to think about that next time you bump into the colonel's statue, Bradley. Did all of the veterans who mourned Colvill's passing 100 year ago speak English?

Yup, young 'un Bradley, fresh off a drunken night of revelry at a local beer hall, sloshing his way along the Capitol's rotunda, bumps smack into the colonel's statue.

That's not unlike how Coleman writes his columns, I imagine.

UPDATE: Mitch has some thoughts, too.

I feel I should point out that, although I think it's a good idea for immigrants to learn English, I don't necessarily think said learning should be made a requirement for obtaining welfare. I have my reasons, not the least of which is that English is freakin' hard to learn, even for native speakers, and everyone's capacity to learn a different language varies widely. That said, Coleman's "The Sky Is Falling" outrageousness is enough to make me vomit, but only a little bit, in my mouth.

SOMEWHAT RELATED UPDATE: Wow. Remind me never to mess with these guys.

Blogrolling

By the by, I'll soon (by which I mean sometime this year, maybe) be updating my blogroll to better reflect those who link to me and what not. If you do link to me, and you'd like me to link to you, please drop a comment so I have your name on file.

I also plan to try selling out to BlogAds at some point, because even getting $20 a month to blog would be pretty damned cool.

Dark Knight. Heath Ledger. Batman. The Joker. Dark Knight. Heath Ledger. Batman. The Joker. Dark Knight. Heath Ledger. Batman. The Joker.

The Great Prognosticator

Well, my predictions for 2004 fell somewhat short of realization, but only just. Therefore, I have no problem putting forth my fearless predictions for 2005. Let's begin, shall we?

JANUARY: As per Congressional approval, the U.S. donates, through increased taxes, over $850 trillion to tsunami relief efforts, a move that, though appreciated worldwide, is still considered by most U.N. officials to be considerably "stingy."

The Minnesota Vikings, arguably the stinkiest professional football team to ever stink up a stinking football field, defies all earthly expectations and makes it to the Super Bowl where, falling back to their old ways, they lose in record fashion 89 to 0. Most Minnesotans fail to even notice.

FEBRUARY: Following Iraqi elections marred by a mere 39 suicide car bombings and 101 mortar and rocket attacks, the Iraqi people enthusiastically embrace their new leader: Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Emerging, finally, from the cloud of despair following the November 2004 election, John Kerry supporters start wondering what, exactly, was their candidate's "plan." Forced to respond, Kerry says "oh, that, well, I was just playin' with ya'll."

MARCH: An all-out war between the mainstream media and bloggers erupts when Dan Rather, upon his official retirement, ends his CBS nightly news broadcast by calling bloggers a collective "pajama-clad poopy pants." Bloggers respond by saying "it takes one to know one." Time's "Blog of the Year," Power Line, discovers that Rather made the "poopy pants" claim based, partially, on forged documents.

The seemingly neverending carnival that is the Michael-Jackson-child-sexual-abuse media extravaganza undergoes an unexpected twist when new allegations are made by the "gloved one" himself. In a videotaped confession, Jackson is shown singing that he "loves boys, boys, boys, oh those young boys, boys, boys" while repeatedly grabbing his crotch. Shortly thereafter, Jackson makes light of the new charges brought by himself by dancing on the roof of an SUV.

APRIL: The anxiously-awaited five DVD box set,"Best O' Bin Laden," an exhaustive compilation of the al Queda figurehead's many videotaped invectives against the U.S. and the West sells over 8 million copies worldwide. disappointed buyers, having watched the entire collection, are forced to admit that "jeez, he's a repetitive mother fucker, ain't he?"

The American people, largely living from hand-to-mouth as a result of the tax burden levied upon them to fund the tsunami relief effort, storm the U.N. headquarters in New York when it's discovered that the international governing body has been embezzling billions of dollars in what becomes known as the "U.N. Food for Waves Scandal."

MAY: The war between the mainstream media and bloggers is taken to a new level when the New York Times pens an editorial opining that the Constitution should be amended to prohibit blogging as a personal tool of self-expression, saying that "blogging is a reckless and damaging pursuit that threatens to destablilize pure journalism because those cocksucking bloggers keep pointing out our fuckups, goddamn 'em." Bloggers respond by pointing out that the word "fuckups," should probably be hyphenated.

Michael Moore releases his sequal to "Fahrenheit 9/11" but, because it's not an election year, the movie flops worse than a carp in a rowboat. Alternatively, "Michael Moore Hates America" becomes the most popular and famous movie of all time, outselling even "From Dusk Till Dawn."

JUNE: Responding to criticism regarding its role in the now infamous "Food For Waves Scandal," U.N. officials chastise the American public as being a bunch of whiners and tells Americans as a whole to "stop being so stingy and embrace the socialistic doctrine that everyone should accept as the ideal."

President Bush, on a three month vacation at his ranch in Crawford, Texas, experiences a near death scare after choking, once again, on an errant pretzel. Says Bush of the incident, "Those fucking pretzels, man. . . what can you do?"

JULY: The war between bloggers and the mainstream media heats up when, through exhaustive and meticulous investigation, it's discovered that both Ted Koppel and Peter Jennings are, in fact, muppets. Reaction by the American public is quiet, however, with most people admitting that they pretty much suspected that for years.

NASA deploys its "Deep Impact" spacecract, designed to smash into Comet Tempel 1. NASA officials expect the exercise to go swimmingly, seeing as how they've become accidental experts when it comes to crashing their spacecrafts into shit.

AUGUST: Following months and months of introspection and analysis, Senator John Kerry comes forth, once again, to explain why he lost the 2004 election. Says a resigned Senator Kerry: "I just. . . I don't know. . . I just got fewer votes than I needed, I guess." Freshly-depressed Kerry supporters launch a half-hearted crusade for a new Ohio recount, but they give up the attempt within a half hour, saying "oh, just. . . just. . . just fuck it. You know? Just fuck it."

The Minnesota Vikings win their first pre-season football game. Most Minnesotans fail to even notice, because they've learned after years and years of high hopes and dashed dreams not to put any faith whatsoever in their shitty football team. Said one fan, who asked to remain anonymous: "oh, just. . . just. . . just fuck it. You know? Just fuck it."

SEPTEMBER: Al Jazeera releases a new bin Laden videotape that proves to be a PR nightmare for the al-Queda terrorist network. In the tape, bin Laden is shown reading "My Pet Goat" to a cave full of anxious new recruits just before several bombs land nearby. Says an al-Queda spokesman of the new tape: "Well, that was sure ironic, wasn't it?"

Another shot is fired in the war between the mainstream media and bloggers when retired CBS news anchor Dan Rather starts his own blog, with the expressed purpose to make fun of bloggers. Rather's first blog entry states: "Ooh, look at meeee, I'm a big blogger now. La tee daaa. I'm a big, stinky ankle biter, laa laaa laaa." Blog of the Year, Power Line, posits a theory that Rather's first blog entry may, in fact, be forged.

OCTOBER: Vice-President Dick Cheney finally succumbs due to his 97th heart attack, brought on, experts say, by a pretzel. Shocked by the apparent lethality of pretzels, the White House declares that all pretzels should be considered weapons of mass destruction until further notice. Snack companies nationwide declare bankruptcy within weeks.

The U.S. formally announces that it will roll back the taxes imposed to pay for the $850 trillion tsunami relief. Says President Bush about the historic move: "I think this whole thing has pretty much shown conclusively that, no matter what the U.S. does about anything, it will be viewed by the world theater as either not enough, or just wrong. So, you know? fuck it. Just, fuck it."

NOVEMBER: Sentator John Kerry proposes legislation that would make the month of November a national month of mourning to commemorate his failed bid for the presidency. Although the legislation fails to pass, legions of Kerry supporters observe the month of mourning anyway, because they really don't have anything else to do.

Paris Hilton, realizing it's time to do something with her life BESIDES have sex on camera and tote miniature dogs around, finally decides to get out and learn how to read:

DECEMBER: In the final battle between the mainstream media and bloggers, a cadre of mainstream media representatives, including Dan Rather, Maureen Dowd, Nick Coleman, Brian Williams and Paul Krugman, are arrested while trying to break into the newly-established blogging headquarters located in a Washington D.C. hotel. The ensuing investigations bring down several mainstream media empires while hoisting bloggers up to new levels of both respect and notoriety.

Rambling Rhodes is named TIME's 2005 blog of the year, for many obvious reasons.

Caroline says: Is that going to be included in your 2005 predictions? "Disease Could Mean Illness For Many," and "Paris Hilton Appears in Seventh Sex Tape"

Ryan says: I couldn't get through her first sex tape. I've never, EVER, seen a girl so extremely bored-looking while having sex.

Caroline says: Why...oh, nevermind.

Ryan says: It was like the guy was doing long-division instead of pouring his pulsing man-rod between her velvety curtains.

Ryan says: Damn, that was some pretty steamy prose right there. I'm writing the wrong content.

Caroline says: Oh. Yeah. Baby. Yeah.