First of all, Im neither Republican or Democrat. But it amazes me that you say the GOP got everything they wanted as far as the immigration law. You say Arizona is going to get whiter??? You're an idiot. If you and others fully understood that our country has a damn problem from immigrants coming here illegally. It dont matter what country they come from, they're a drain on our economy and finances. They also bring diseases to our people! We can't afford to take care of them and their taking of jobs that Americans could have!!! I wish all states followed Arizona's lead and told the Feds to fuck off!!! - actual email sent to my inbox on OpEd.

It's like a penis parade with electric vuvuzelas amplified by 100 watt Marshall amps. And, once again, JP has brought them out of the woodwork without even trying.

My last article, crossposted on Op-Ed News, the hard-hitting liberal, progressive news and opinion site that's become my summer home this month, has been promoted to headline status. If you go to their index page, you'll note that "The (Republican) Terrorists Have Already Won" is the story that's second from the top, well above the "fold."

The reason for this is the number of hits it must have gotten (although I have no way of tracking that) plus the comments it's generated (47 57 to date). As well as pieces by citizen journalists and bloggers like me, it features original pieces and crossposts by luminaries such as OpEd founder Rob Kall, Danny Schechter and Robert Parry. You'll note that articles far better than mine go, half the time, without generating a single comment. The other half of OpEd's articles get single digit comments.

My 391 word article, which started off as a rambling series of off-the-cuff comments said to Mrs. JP at a coffee shop, eventually crystallized into a brief blog post that I decided to cross-post on Rob Kall's site. It was grabbed more rapidly than anything else they ever accepted (within a half hour) and got linked on Buzzflash almost as quickly. The comments started pouring in immediately, especially when Rob Kall decided to immediately front-page it.

It got to the point where I was spending all my preciously limited internet time reading and responding to the comments. This morning, I found dozens more. I still haven't read them all. But I will make some observations:

If one is adventurous enough to regard this response as a bellwether of what issues will be hot during the midterms, then one will conclude that immigration suddenly just got very, very sexy. But what else can account for this massive (and surprisingly negative and critical) response to my post on SB 1070? Am I the first person to have written about immigration or SB 1070 on OpEd News? Uh, hardly.

Then again, it may have something to do with the provocative title, "The (Republican) Terrorists Have Already Won." Ah, there's the rub and the rub goes the wrong way. Now I know how Janet Napolitano felt when Homeland Security released their report on the rise of right wing terrorism and she was assailed by every Republican bed sheet-wearer in the land.

Now, my comments are being flagged for being partisan (on a liberal, progressive site) and abusive. I've been called a racist (someone with two biracial sons) and I even have a concern troll who presumes to tell me, me of all people, how to write and respond to others. Rob Kall responded by not only front-paging my crappy little article but elevated it to the top of the index page. It's bringing traffic to his site. I've done my job.

But it's not only notable that it took a post about immigration to elicit such a response but one that, justifiably, charges the Republican Party and its apologists with racism. It's brought out all the crazies that troll OpEd News more regularly than I suspect even Rob Kall knew.

And all because I spoke the truth. Not an opinion, but the God's unflyblown, ineluctable, incontrovertible truth: SB 1070 is rooted in racism, something every Latino schoolchild can see with one eye closed. If it wasn't about racism and fear of people darker than us, then how come the immigration debate is completely about the southern border and not the northern border near Canada, through which far more national security threats have been intercepted than Mexico?

The response that my post has gotten, with some people actually sympathetic to the Iowa Republican Party's laughable attempt to strip President Obama of his citizenship just for accepting the Nobel Peace Prize, is a microcosm of what Glenn Beck said about Obama being a racist who doesn't like white people.

Well, neither do I. My people have been a locust swarm, a pox, pestilence and plague on the planet earth. I loathe stupid white men with a burning hatred and resentment for turning our world into the fetid cellpool of oily, polluted opportunism that it's become. I am living in, literally, a different nation than the one in which I grew up in the late 70's/early 80's. Manifest Destiny, obviously, isn't aimed at just dark-skinned people, anymore.

And the racist scumbags who wrote, ratified and signed SB 1070 into law, are also largely stupid white men who pontificate about Mexicans taking jobs that white people don't want to do. But taking harvesting jobs away from respectable white folks like us isn't what SB 1070 is about. It's not about driving away the illegal immigrants who nonetheless pour billions each year into the Arizona state economy and still pay taxes without getting what they're paying for.

It's about driving out the legal ones who vote Democratic, as Greg Palast reminded us last April. And, as I stated yesterday, SB 1070 had worked beyond their wildest dreams: Tens of thousands of Mexicans, even ones here legally, have been forced to leave a land that had once belonged to their ancestors until we stole it from them in the early 19th century. And they're taking their votes with them.

SB 1070, among other things, requires everybody (meaning those with dark skin) to carry papers on them proving citizenship. Even if one is a legal immigrant, not having those papers on them is in itself a crime.

How is this in any way, shape and form not reminiscent of the Jewish ghettos of Nazi eastern Europe? How comes we're not so concerned about Swedish immigrants in Minnesota or the Dakotas or the Polish immigrants of Michigan? Or Italian immigrants in the North End of Boston or Rhode Island?

It's aimed at Hispanics and, audaciously, Native Americans who were here before everyone else. And we're supposed to believe this is a debate about economics? If that was true, they would've thought twice about passing a law that was guaranteed to crater a state economy by depriving it of much of the $29 billion poured into it by Latinos and other immigrants (about 8% of its economy).

If it was about what was legally viable or not, they wouldn't have passed a racist law that requires dark-skinned people to carry citizenship papers with them 24/7 (do you?), one guaranteed to be challenged and struck down in federal courts. If they wanted to remain true to the spirit of the law, they could've continued with 287g, that allows the federal government to deputize state and city law enforcement agencies to round up illegal immigrants.

Oh wait. That was taken away from Sheriff Joe Arpaio, the racist scumbag whose tent city in Maricopa County had become a national disgrace, a place in which the almost exclusively Mexican Americans die and suffer from lack of medical care.

Yet to hear the scumbags who are commenting on my article, whatever horrors we can visit on these people or allow to happen to them they brought on themselves. Because they broke the law.

Well, so did Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, Karl Rove, Alberto Gonzales and thousands of other crooks, liars and war criminals and you don't see those douchebags getting deported to the Netherlands to stand war crimes trials. No, they're richer than ever and are getting signed to one book and TV deal after another.

So spare me your fucking pieties about what's legal and who deserves what.

Mr. Speights would like his fans to know that he got laid last night.  Personally, I've never been drunk to the point of "ass fuck", but I guess it depends on who you're with. 

Ladies, if you can't bang Marreese Speights for more than 30 minutes, don't get drunk "ass fuck" with him, please.

*As you might've guessed, this tweet has since been deleted. 

UPDATE! - the tweet is actually just some lyrics from the song Takin It There by Young Jeezy.  We apologize.  TheWizWit is disappointed as both fans of Jeezy and as fans of athletes using Twitter to describe sexual encounters.  Carry on.

(Crossposted on OpEd News.com and Brilliant at Breakfast.)

If one looks at SB 1070, Arizona's Gestapo-esque immigration law that went into effect yesterday despite a federal judge striking down key components of it, with clear eyes and takes note of all the fallout that's resulted, one realizes that the Arizona GOP actually got everything they ever asked for and probably a good deal more.

True, this explosion of hatred toward Latinos legal or otherwise, has had some less than salutary effects on the state's economy. But those repercussions will not be felt by the state GOP lawmakers but the average small business owner and landlord.

The benefits that the GOP is already seeing is the mass exodus of Latinos both legal and illegal, who have been leaving Arizona by the thousands. Who will actually suffer from this? Democrats who have come to rely on this same Latino voting bloc's reliably Democratic votes.

They also succeeded in making Arizona a lot whiter in a big hurry and without placing much of a burden on the state's limping economy and the state's penal system.

When SB 1070 was ratified in the Arizona legislature, 11 other states followed suit and either ratified or introduced legislation that would enforce similar measures against immigrants. The Arizona Republican Party is metastasizing.

Hell, even Judge Susan Bolton's highly critical ruling of SB 1070 has been hailed as a "huge victory" by the same whackjobs who'd co-authored it because Bolton couldn't or wouldn't completely eviscerate it.

And if you want to know how insanely xenophobic white Republicans have gotten, Iowa Republicans, I shit you not, want to strip President Barack Obama of his citizenship, hence get him thrown out of the White House, just for winning and accepting the Nobel Prize. They're basing this on a proposed amendment (the original 13th amendment, not the one that banned slavery) that failed in Congress exactly 200 years ago.

This is their platform, people, and we're letting it pay dividends. There's really no downside to the GOP's starkly batshit insane and irrational fear of brown people. Like the Bush administration was fond of saying, if we give in to fear, then the terrorists have already won.

Then they scared the shit out of us and it paid billions in dividends to war contractors. We let them steal our constitutional protections, our civil liberties eight years ago and we still haven't gotten them back.

Well, the terrorists have won again and they triumphantly rode in on a snow-white elephant.

It wasn’t that long ago boys and girls that our swashbuckling GM, Rubes Jr., traded an ace away for a few middling prospects. Well, just when I think he couldn’t possibly be any dumber, he goes and does something like this…AND TOTALLY REDEEMS HIMSELF!!!

We all beat up GM’s from time to time whether it’s for signing players to bad contracts, trading away prospects we love for crappy rental players or for not making trades we really think they should make. If a move doesn’t pay off, we chastise them for it. If it does work, well, we focus on the players who made it happen. For the most part, it’s a rather thank-less job. But, I really have to hand it to Ruben here, he pulled off quite the coup in the Oswalt deal. It’s enough of a coup actually, that I almost, but not quite, will consider forgiving him for the Cliff Lee Fiasco of 2010.

But, alas, this isn't about Cliff Lee (actually everything is always about Cliff Lee, but I digress). It's about a pitcher named Roy and a dream. A dream to win another World Series and fleece Ed Wade in the process. Did the Phillies realize this dream today? Let's find out.


Here’s the official breakdown:

Phillies Get:

RHP Roy Oswalt

$11,000,000

Ed Wade’s Manhood

Astros Get:

LHP JA Happ

OF Anthony Gose (who was immediately sent to the Blue Jays for 1B Brett Wallace, who was dealt from Oakland to Toronto for ex-Phillies prospect Michael Taylor)

SS Jonathan Villar

If that seems almost too good to be true, it’s because it pretty much is. Considering the Phillies obtained a top 30 pitcher (which is what Oswalt still is) without giving up ANY top prospects (Gose is the closest at #6 per Baseball America) is unbelievable. It’s become apparent that the cost for a good starter (as proven last week as well in the Dan Haren trade) isn’t as high as fans thought. When only a few teams in baseball can afford to take on salary (like the Phillies somehow can) it really limits the number of options team looking to trade have. This, thankfully, dramatically lowered the cost for Oswalt. For most of the morning I heard a lot of names thrown around, but in the end all the top guys like Singleton, Colvin and Cosart remain. That’s good news as the Phillies get better in 2010 and 2011, while still keeping all their high ceiling talent they’ll need to be good in 2012 and beyond. No matter how you slice it, a rotation of Halladay, Hamels, Lee…er…Oswalt looks pretty formidable for the next year +2 months.

So what can we expect from Oswalt? Well, I’d say a 7-4 record with a 3.39 ERA and 74 K’s in 79 IP. The playoffs? Probably a 4-0 record with a 1.56 ERA. Wait, what? Oh, I hadn’t noticed. Those are the exact stats that Cliff Lee put up last year? Interesting. Purely a coincidence, I promise. Ok, I lied, I did that on purpose…but really I expect good things from Roy #2. He’s pitched in big games (he was the 2005 NLCS MVP) and sports a lifetime ERA of 3.24. His K/9 rate is the highest it’s been since his rookie season and he wants to win. Sounds like a guy I want on my side for the stretch run.

To be honest though, I can’t give all the credit to Amaro. Really, he had a lot of help from Ed Wade (unless you believe the report that Astros owner Drayton McLane handled the negotiations directly with David Montgomery, which would be like having two Walrus’s try to decide how much plutonium to put in a bomb, while also fixing our national deficit and figuring out an exit strategy for the Middle East). Trading with Ed Wade is like having your friend buy you a hooker, it’s free and easy sex so you have do it, but it always leaves you feeling dirty and like you ripped him off. So while I can’t blame Amaro for taking advantage of a (PC LANGUAGE ALERT) mentally handicapped person, I still can’t give him full credit. It might not be as easy as taking candy from a baby, but it’s definitely as easy as catching a blowie from a fat chick.

Anyway, this trade puts the Phillies a whole lot closer to a third straight trip to the World Series. Is it a guarantee? Definitely not, but I really like our chances now. The only mini-negative is that we gave up a high-ceiling infielder, something we don’t have much of in our system, and a controllable #5 starter for the next four seasons. But, we won’t miss Gose since we have similar players all over our system in Tyson Gillies, Jiwan James and a host of other ‘toolsy’ outfielders. So as long as Mr. Happ doesn’t develop into Cliff Lee, we’re good. And that has about as much of a chance of happening as me banging a stripper in Vegas during my bachelor party. Which means it would never happen. Cause I don't do that kind of stuff. It's gross. Totally gross.

Go Phils. Let's do it again.

Is this dude the starting quarterback for the Philadelphia Eagles or the guy who put up drywall in your office last week while listening to Puddle of Mudd? You decide.

Courtesy of Todd Herremans' (surprisingly entertaining) Twitter page.

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I was lucky enough to be in attendance of last night's Domonic Brown debut. The above video was taken to document the first career at-bat of the future Hall of Famer. I couldn't have been any more excited going into this game - I've been waiting for this call up for quite some time. When I received a text from a friend letting me know the call up was official, I creamed a little. Just a little.  Seriously though, the guy is going to be really good for a long time. You’ve heard of 5-tool players before? Brown has 7. He has tools people didn’t even know existed.

I realize the video is a little far away (we taped this from our season seat's in right field on cell phone), but it's more about the crowd's reaction than anything else. Dom Brown was fully welcomed by this fan base last night and it provided the stadium with a little more electricity than usual. The shakiness of the camera is actually due to the minor earthquake caused by the rocketing of Brown's double.

I'll be visiting Modell's in the coming days to purchase my Dom Brown merchandise. I suggest you do the same.


UPDATE! I've included a clip of what I believe should be Dom Brown's intro music. Shout out to Das Racist, who you may know from their Combination Pizza Hut/Taco Bell jam.

It's being reported everywhere that Oswalt is a waived no-trade clause away from being a Phillie. It's certain that JA Happ will be sent to Houston to die a death brought on by lack of run support. Nobody knows anything about how the money will work in the deal, or what prospects are involved.

In case you're wondering, (to our knowledge) Roy Oswalt isn't really a cross-dresser. That pic is from his rookie year in what I'm guessing was some type of hazing. So there's really no update there, just a picture that wasn't Oswalt in mid-throwing motion.

TheWizWit will give you a full analysis later if this thing actually happens. Remember when Cliff Lee was a Yankee a couple weeks ago? Yeah, anything can fall through.


[pic via Alyson's Footnotes - MLB Blog Network: Houston Astros]

As nerdy as it is, watching videos on the Philadelphia Eagles website shows you a hell of a lot more than reading words on a page from some dude (i.e. me).

I tell myself that I watch these videos because I run a Philly sports blog and need to be as informed as possible, but that's not the truth. The truth is...I just love this crap. While Dave Spadaro is a goofy cornball who loves the Eagles so much that he probably owns bird porn, the dude is harmless. Plus the mixed guy (Chris McPherson) seems on top of his game and the sarcastic little one's name is BO WULF so he's cool by me.

Also, if you're someone who plays fantasy football it behooves you to know what the shit you're talking about. Should you draft C.J. Spiller or Dez Bryant? Watching bullshit like camp footage or player bios is the only way to find out.  This junk is genius!

Patrick Crayton (COLON)...Underdog! The story of a man who will be paid $2.5 million this year to work LESS, but has to overcome the devastation of being married to a woman named Najiyyah.

Where was I? Oh yeah, below is a clip of the afternoon practice on training camp day 1. Unfortunately, it only features rookies and selected veterans selected dudes named Kevin Kolb and Mike Vick.


My observations:
Kolb's arm looks better than advertised | Vick is inaccurate | Bradley Riley Cooper catches everything | Cornelius Ingram appears to have working legs.

What do you see? (Very loud and auto-playing) video after the jump.

NASCAR team owner Jack Roush may have been attempting a go-around at the Oshkosh airport when he crashed the airplane he was piloting on Tuesday evening.  “He attempted to do a go-around at the last second and was unsuccessful,” is what I was told by a source at the air show, while covering the story for the Wheels blog of The New York Times.

This account jibes with what Flying magazine senior editor Robert Goyer told me.  He saw the approach of Roush’s twin engine Beechcraft but lost sight of the plane in its final moments as it flew behind some tents. “The airplane was flying very slow and it was fairly high off the runway,” he said. The plane was configured for landing, gear down and flaps extended but he noticed the plane was “being maneuvered.”  Robert said this is what “got my attention.”

The crash was captured in telling detail by a photographer who has made the photos available to the website, TMZ.

Another eyewitness, Mike Hargrave told a local television reporter he saw the plane turn and begin the approach the airfield, but the plane seemed to be flying too slowly. He told his companion, “I think that plane is stalling” but by then the plane had turned sideways, its wing hitting the ground first and then cart wheeling.

My friend Darren Gaines, a private pilot and air traffic controller has worked the ballet of Oshkosh’s twelve-thousand  arrivals and departures at  AirVentures past. Today he gave me the startling news that there’s a crash a year on average at Oshkosh, and that every year there is discussion about revamping the ATC procedures.

“It works pretty well if you are going to have this kind of volume and pilots are sharp and controllers follow their guidelines it should work fine,” he told me this afternoon from Oshkosh.  “When you get someone who is not proficient or there’s lack of experience on the controller’s side, or the pilot’s side that could be a bad equation.”

No one is suggesting Roush was not capable of making the landing. Two pilots I spoke with today who know him described him as an “accomplished pilot.” But Roush was not comfortable with something as he approached runway 18 last night and it appears he wanted to abort the landing and try again. The controller cleared him for a go around, but it was too late, the plane was already on the ground. 

That Roush was in another airplane crash in 2002 has been well-reported, but the details of that accident have not. Here’s what happened. Roush was celebrating his 60^th birthday by flying a friend’s lightweight experimental AirCam at low altitude over a lake in Alabama. He failed to see a power line and flew into it. In an interview with Flying the former editor-in-chief J. Mac McClellan wrote, “His last memory, before waking up in the ambulance, was seeing the wire approaching at the last second and trying to duck out of the way.”

That’s more than Roush told investigators, though. In a letter to the National Transportation Safety Board, Roush reportedly wrote, "I have no recollection of the accident nor any other incidents which occurred on April 19, 2002."

With his hands up to the elbows on both wheels and wings, Roush is a bi-modal celebrity, and this accident at the mother of all general aviation events will keep half a million attendees talking. If he forgets any detail of what happened to him on Wednesday night, there are more than enough folks able to remind him.

I'm picking up a novel I started late last year then dropped for about 6 months to work on other projects. It's entitled Romanov 12:19, after Romans 12:19 in the Bible. The daughter of a Wall Street tycoon is kidnapped right after she arrives at her private school in Westchester County.

Desperate for answers and frustrated with the NYPD, the family's Russian chauffeur Vasiliy recommends Josef Romanov, aka Joe Roman, former NYPD and Moscow militia detective. Joe occasionally does work for and sometimes against the Russian mob of Brighton Beach. Vasiliy was his partner in the Moscow Militia police.

The trail leads them to the CNMI (Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands), once infamous for its sweatshops and now infamous for its child prostitution rings. Roman and the father fly to Saipan on the tycoon's private jet and Roman brings with him two Russian hit men, a disgraced FBI agent and his former partner, Vasiliy. The six are guided around the island by Norma Campo, the director of the real-life Guma Esperanza shelter for battered and exploited women.

One of the leads they find on the island is a right wing radio host who goes to Saipan every November for "special visits." Any relation to Cecil Humphries and the fat fuck pictured above is strictly intentional. These are the Humphries chapters.

---

Chapter 36
Cecil Humphries walked down the folding steps of the Learjet that he’d leased. “Why do they have to make these fucking things so narrow?” the obese man muttered under his breath. “What do they think, we’re all anorexic?” There was no brass band, no dignitaries, no politicians, no reporters or photographers, no red carpet, no one there waiting for him which, if he was still stateside, would be unusual. Here in Saipan, having no one waiting for him was exactly what he wanted. No sense in taking chances, he thought, and pulled down the front of the brim of his trademark white Panama hat and put on his Ray Ban sunglasses.

Putting down his carryon luggage, the fat American took out a gold-plated Zippo lighter embossed with the GOP national symbol and lit up a Cuban, putting the empty aluminum tube back in his coat pocket. The little girls liked to play with them afterwards and he chortled when he thought of the times he’d used them as dildos and they’d complain about them being cold.

Now 58, Humphries was sleek, bloated and ruddy with good health and he was in a mood for celebrating. The syndicated radio network for whom he’d been working as a conservative iconoclast for 11 years had just signed him to a 10 year contract estimated to be somewhere in the neighborhood of $400 million. The day after he’d signed the contract, he devoted his entire five hour-long radio show to bragging about it and merrily hit the kill button every time some jealous Al Franken wannabe liberal pinhead would call with outrage.

He was the new face of the Republican Party in the minds of not just the conservative grassroots but also to the new Obama administration. He’d achieved a new level of celebrity when he openly wished for the new president to fail and to get impeached. What angered a lot of people, including some turncoat moderate Republicans, was that he’d said this last November on Election Night.

No doubt those same liberal pinheads would make a lot of hay over why he was here just as they did when it was revealed after his arrest 9 years ago for being in possession of illegal pain killers to which he’d been addicted. Humphries’ attitude was that they could all take a flying leap off Banzai Cliff. It wasn’t anyone’s business what a grown man did in his free time, especially when he was on vacation.

Still, leftist fathead bloggers would create a conspiracy theory out of whole cloth if they found out that he’d secretly or without fanfare traveled to the same island that he’d ceaselessly fought to keep exempt from US Immigration laws. Since customs quotas, minimum wage and tariff laws didn’t apply to Saipan and Guam, why should the immigration laws?

He’d railed against Bush from his bully pulpit when in May of last year he’d signed the Natural Resources Act of 2008 (or S. 2739) into law. That was why he’d decided to abruptly take a vacation here on Saipan mere days after signing the largest contract in American broadcasting history. Later on in the month, the federal government would be handed over complete control of the CNMI’s immigration laws. He wanted to see the island’s precocious new talent before INS put a clamp on it.

Humphries hailed a cab just like any ordinary tourist and made his way to the same five star hotel where, unbeknownst to him, a group of dangerous-looking men from the United States had checked in the night before.

Chapter 39
Cecil Humphries dispatched the bellhop with a ten dollar bill and a grunted approximation of gratitude. He lit up another Cuban with his famous gold lighter, his only concession to his celebrated identity, and serenely exhaled the smoke through the open sliding glass door. The spacious, tiled patio overlooked the beach and he lowered his Ray Bans to look down at the small, colorful figures lounging, swimming or running on the sand.

Of course, Humphries wasn’t there to openly enjoy the surf, work on his tan or look for seashells. He could do that in Ft. Lauderdale where he lived year-round. No, what he was here to do would be frowned upon by his countrymen, especially liberal fathead bloggers quivering for a Gotcha moment.

He’d just taken a Viagra and was beginning to feel the effects. The pundit’s penis stirred as he looked at the children on the sand in their bathing suits. He turned around, took out his cell phone and dialed a number from memory. Humphries was smart enough not to put it in his contacts list and every time he’d called this number in the past, he also deleted the phone’s memory of the call. Of course, it would still be on record with his cell phone provider but that wasn’t an issue as long as no one had any reason to go looking through his call history.

“Rodrigo. Guess who? That’s right! I’m back and just in time to head off Eliot Ness and his damned Do Gooders. Is my favorite girl available? What?! Well, that sucks. Who would do such a thing? OK, who else have you got for me? I have to be on a plane by tomorrow night and I don’t have much time. Really? You sure she’s 12 and not 18 who looks like she’s 12 but really 12? You know how young those Filipinas look. No, I know you never let me down. I trust you. I’ll see you at the usual spot at 6.”

Humphries folded the phone and walked back onto the patio, eyeing the little girls in their skimpy bikinis and enjoying the effect the Viagra was already having on him. He’d been saving up for a long time and he planned on using up every one of the six condoms he’d brought with him.

Chapter 41
Fat, sleek men are lining up for your daughters and they all have lots of time and money. To them, they are just a couple of tight orifices and a ponytail to pull in pursuit of their long-lost adolescence and activities that polite society denies them. You call them pedophiles. I call them my accomplices.

Cecil Humphries, America’s most recognizable political pundit, was dressing down before his big night. Considering the tender age of the young lady he’d be entertaining tonight, it didn’t pay to draw attention to himself. Wearing generic sunglasses, plain khaki slacks (44 waist), cheap Panama hat sans hat band or any adornment, and a stereotypical, flowered print shirt (size 18 neck), the colorfully-attired Humphries was hiding in plain sight by masquerading as what he fancied the typical American on vacation in a tropical paradise. While packing in Florida, he’d briefly considered a fake beard but nixed the idea. Even considering the embarrassing Cialis incident, he hated the thought of plastering his puss with spirit gum. The hair would make his face itch, too.

He’d been to Guam on several occasions on behalf of the Armed Forces Radio Network that had faithfully carried The Humphries Radio Show for over nine years to the tacit exclusion of everything to the political left of the radio dial (the frequency on his flagship home station was 1700 AM, about as far to the right as one could turn the knob). Al Franken’s Air America and pinheaded liberal talk show hosts had come and gone in the last decade but Cecil Humphries went proudly marching on where ever our troops were sent (in spirit, anyway). The ultra conservative pundit was, if anything, more concerned about the troops being exposed to liberal propaganda than that of al Qaeda’s or any other terrorist network. Acting as a filter or antidote to such subversiveness was, to Humphries, less of a job as it was a calling.

Tonight, he’d be going to Guam, dealing with the US Navy yet it wouldn’t be to entertain the troops but himself. He needed to make contact with just a handful of men and officers who were expecting his clandestine visit. Rodrigo, as always, had set up everything on his end but the cash payments to smooth his safe and discrete arrival on shore and back was still up to Humphries.

He counted out 50 crisp hundred dollar bills, $5000, for the five men who’d get him on and off Guam before the sun shone on him. He didn’t know if the men were aware of the true nature of his special visit or if Rodrigo provided him with a cover story. It didn’t matter. They wouldn’t talk unless they cared to explain the thousands of dollars that passed hands while allowing an unauthorized civilian into a US Naval installation.

The cash was withdrawn from a Saipan bank this morning out of a secret slush fund that he’d maintained for years. He could have taken the bribe money out of any of his several Florida-based accounts. But doing so would’ve left an easily-discovered paper trail. His Saipan account was in the name of a dummy corporation (Friedman Capital, named in honor of the conservative economist, Milton Friedman). His deliberately illegible signature on the withdrawal slip would’ve foiled any but the most dogged investigator. Mama didn’t raise no fools although she sure slept with more than her fair share of them.

Satisfied for the third time that all five grand was there (one can’t trust the hired help of even five star hotels), he tapped the edges of the bills on the dresser and slid them into his Gucci calfskin billfold. Humphries then took out his cell phone to ensure that Rodrigo had chartered the boat and was already waiting for him at the most isolated point in the harbor a mile from the hotel. Humphries insisted on making the others wait, especially during these special visits, so he wouldn’t be left waiting and exposed to scrutiny for longer than necessary. He wanted to duck in and out of the cab and slip onto the boat.

Humphries’s go-between, whom he’d stubbornly refused to acknowledge as a pimp, was actually a surprisingly urbane Filipino who spoke English with hardly a trace of an accent either way. Always impeccably dressed in a white blazer and matching slacks and Fedora, Rodrigo had an infallible instinct for being able to spot the officers and men most susceptible to the irresistible siren call of several Ben Franklins.

“Rodrigo? It’s me,” Humphries quietly announced in his famous Indiana twang but not using his equally well-known, bombastic radio voice. Who knew if the walls had ears and how sensitive they’d be? “Are you at the harbor? OK, are you sure you’ve never used this captain before? Outstanding. You’re the man, Rodrigo. I’ll be there in 10 or 15 minutes.”

He clapped his cell phone shut and looked out the window, satisfied that dusk had sufficiently deepened so that no one could possibly recognize him in the gathering dark. He used the phone in his room to alert the desk to have a cab waiting for him by the time he got to the lobby. With a little luck, he’d be having the time of his life within two hours. The six condoms in the right pocket of his Bermuda shorts dryly rustled as he walked to the door.

Last night, the Phillies beat the Diamondbacks 9-5 for their 6th win in a row. Jayson Werth went deep for the first time since Jennifer Utley slept over last week. Ryan Howard hit his 23rd ding dong, leading the NL with 81 RBI's. And...Shane Victorino got hurt.

Bad news? Of course, Shane is an integral part of the Phillies and losing him for any length of time wouldn't be a good thing. BUT...it could mean the beginning of Domonic Brown's MLB career.

Granted, you can only expect so much from a rookie, but the guy is hitting .875 this year in the minors with 403 HRs and 5,000 RBIs (numbers not exact) so I'm going to expect a lot. Bring him up and let him pound crappy NL pitching for the next 2 months. Next year, MVP.

A picture of Shane Victorino and a monkey after the jump.

First it was the CoreStates Center, then the FU Center. Now, the Wachovia Center has become the Wells Fargo Center...officially.

Personally, I'll miss the FU Center. I mean, could a more perfect name exist for a Philadelphia sports arena? Probably not, unless of course a company named "Fuck You Donovan You Suck and You Too Scott Rolen and Eric Lindros. Kill Yourselves" buys Wells Fargo.

Could happen.

Duce was at Lehigh today to check out his former team, do some interviews with CSN, and make everyone regret the fast food they had for lunch.

Chunker or not, Duce is rightfully a big fan favorite in this town. I'd love to leave you with some Duce highlights circa Pickle Juice game of '00.  However, amazingly enough, no highlights seem to exist on the Internet from Duce's playing days.  Seriously, I couldn't find any.  If you're disappointed, theres this one from college. 

So if you forgot what Duce looked liked before he packed it on, here you go.

And here's one of Grimace.  Obviously for no related reason whatsover.

OOOOOOOO Eagles Training Camp started today and Nate Allen is signed and Kevin Kolb looks sharp and rookies are impressing coaches and Dez Bryant is already a bigger dickhead than Desean Jackson and Madden comes out soon and when you win the Super Bowl you get to have a parade and meet frickin Obama!  Byah!

Because I couldn't say it any better...


"Terrell Owens has found himself a team, the Cincinnati Bengals, where he’ll presumably form some kind super attention seeking void with Chad Ochocinco that will threaten to suck all of ESPN into it."
- Jason Brewer, SB Nation

Don't forget VH1!  Applicable gif after the jump.

You want to know how horrible of a CEO Tony Hayward was for BP? Not only did the corporation's board of directors fire him as their Chief Executive Officer, they even banished him to a Siberian outpost. It's kind of an executive version of a fuckup in the Nazi army getting sent to the Russian front. Or think of D. B. Cooper getting away and living happily ever after.

Because even though Hayward got shitcanned, he still gets to keep his $1.61 million salary plus his $17 million in stock options (Curiously, BP has just announced it's lost $17.2 billion in this quarter, mainly if not entirely attributable to the Gulf oil spill).

Hayward fucked up because he was perfectly OK with his corporation skirting the law and not giving a shit about the environment. He fucked up yet again by whining about wanting his life back. Then when the criticism got to be too much he washed his hands of the whole thing and went yachting at the Isle of Wight.

Hayward is the 2nd consecutive BP CEO to be shitcanned for killing people and polluting the environment.

If there's anything we've learned from this pathetic clusterfuck that's heavy on faux accountability and light on actual solutions and actual justice, it's this: Crimes does pay. Handsomely.

Tell your kids because it's the God's unflyblown truth.

Blogs and news outlets are reporting on this ESPN report exposing unhealthy stadium concessions facilities. Philly looks to be fine, but you can't say so much about DC or ANYWHERE IN FLORIDA. Gross.

By the way, Madison Square Garden, there's no way in the world those are only "mouse excreta" in your food prep area. Thems rats!

(Image courtesy of Stan the Man Banos at Reciprocity Failure.)

Who are the Magnificent Seven?

Granted, it's a little early to be speculating as to who will be the standard bearer for either party in the presidential election of 2012, especially as the midterms aren't until November. But it's always tempting to prognosticate on such matters just to see how accurate our predictions were when the moment comes.

So I got to wondering this morning who's likeliest to be the GOP's man or woman in 2012 when all the other psychopaths have gone by the wayside. Thus far, it seems that, depending on what straw polls you read, there isn't a single Republican in the land that seems to have any mainstream appeal. In a way, they're in the same quandary that they were in 2008.

So let's play a little What's My Line, shall we?

1) Newt Gingrich

The GOP's Ross Perot or Lyndon Larouche, Gingrich seems to revel more in the attention of being a quadrennial candidate for president than in advancing any new ideas for the conservative movement. In fact, Sensico likens Gingrich's angling and wrangling for support as so much attention whoring. An exploratory committee put together by Gingrich a few years ago showed that he couldn't fit the people who'd vote for him into Scott Brown's little pickup truck.

Then again, as Sensico opines, maybe Gingrich is less concerned about a contract with America as he is with a contract with Fox "News." After all, if Sarah Palin could get one TV deal after another thrown at her well-shod feet, anything's possible. Which takes us to...

2) Sarah Palin

Tea Party Candidate Zero. Clueless in Wasilla. Call her what you will, Sarah Palin's main appeal seems to be less as a potential presidential candidate and more in giving Tea Baggers an excuse to vent their racism and unfocused fury in their corporately-sponsored Two Minute Hates. Giving a brief bump to the McCain campaign in early September 2008, the Palin/McCain ticket quickly went more flaccid than Bob Dole's de-Viagra'd dick when more pragmatic conservatives heard Palin actually speak and were gradually more and more terrified at the prospect of having at the helm of the nation a person who was utterly incapable of constructing a grammatically correct or coherent sentence and thought foreign policy experience could be gleaned through osmosis by dint of sheer proximity. I mean, faced time and again by William Shatner? William Shatner???

Undaunted, Palin then resigned the only nationally visible office she'd ever hold halfway through her first term with the intention of "fighting" for Alaska's... well, something that Alaska seems to hold dear. Another attention whore, she's captured the tabloid imagination far more than any politician/ex politician/wouldbe politician. Yet, poll after poll shows her with far less support than she would need to justify running for Grand Marshall of the Iditarod.

3) Mitt Romney

The former MA governor, who at least finished his gubernatorial term, exudes a vinyl vampiricism that may go over well with the plastic zombies of Wall Street and the US Chamber of Commerce. But outside of the financial district, Romney's Mormon religion will forever keep him from becoming president, which would be a shame if Romney's religion wasn't a thoroughly bogus, Marvel Comics megacult that didn't require believing in galactic heroes and super villains.

Oh, and the Black Jesus vs White Jesus thing doesn't help, either.

4) Rand Paul

Whether or not Rand Paul makes it into the Senate on a tide of red tea, one doesn't have to squint too hard to see that Ron Paul's ophthalmologist offspring has gotten a taste for national politics since winning the Kentucky GOP senate primary. Paul is best known for being intellectually eviscerated by Rachel Maddow for his tacit support for lunch counter managers' refusal to serve black people, surely the biggest hot button issue south of the Mason Dixon line.

One is at a loss to see why Paul would even hint at repealing a landmark civil rights bill that was signed into law when he was a year old or how he thinks that corporate autonomy should trump basic civil rights is a good campaign strategy. But it seems to resonate with those who think that outgoing Senator Jim "Jersey Barrier" Bunning was a bit too soft on liberals and them uppity negroes.

5) Rudy Giuliani

Maybe if Rudy stays in drag 24/7, people will forget that he's male and he may get the nomination by beating Palin at being the first female GOP presidential candidate to break the bulletproof glass ceiling. Lord knows Rudy didn't fare too well two years ago after briefly leading the rat pack of Republican presidential candidates.

Rudy thought it was a good campaign strategy to Super Glu himself to 9/11, the day of the first and most colossal failure of the Bush administration. It was the day when a lame duck mayor became our president for a day because our so-called President was being flown here there and everywhere like a lost piece of luggage while Dick Cheney was doing his job for him. Maybe in time voters will also forget about Hizzoner's rock solid association with his police chief, convicted felon and future jailbird Bernie Kerik. But those of us on the left side of the tracks will not forget his antiquated radios getting hundreds of policemen and firefighters killed on the day with which he loves to associate himself.

6) Ronald Reagan's Rotting Corpse

Don't laugh. This is what they really want, for the Gipper to make the greatest comeback since the 2004 Red Sox. This political Rapture would be unquestioningly accepted by frustrated conservatives who are sick of the hot dog water pot of ideas that the latter-day GOP offers. Tax cuts for the rich! No more unions! Unrestrained capitalism! No more social service programs for the poor! And, best of all, since Reagan is deader than Ben Franklin, the 22nd Amendment wouldn't even apply.

Of course, it would make far more sense, if we were to go the Herbert West/Reanimator route, to revive Dwight D. Eisenhower but the 34th President's quietly gone out of favor in the half century since his retirement from public service. And it's not hard to see why: After all, the wealthiest Americans were socked with a 90% tax rate and Ike warned us about empowering the military/industrial complex that's apparently taken over our foreign policy. And we can't have a lib'ral like Ike back in the White House, now can we?

7) Michele Bachmann

Granted, Reagan's putrifying corpse has a better chance of making a comeback than Michele Bachmann getting a toehold in even the primaries. But remember that she comes from a state that elected Norm Coleman as a senator and Schwarzenegger sidekick Jesse Ventura as their governor, so anything's possible.

As much a darling of the Tea Baggers as Palin, Bachmann rallied the masses last summer by encouraging her followers to slit their wrists to protest the "socialist" health care bailout and seriously suggested on TV that certain members of Congress be investigated for "unAmerican" activities. And still, Minnesota saw fit to re-elect her. At just 54, Bachmann's young enough to be a herpes sore on the body politic for a couple of more decades.