Wrapup: I've got a new Think Again called " Media Ethics: 'So Last Century'"

Also, two Alter-recommendations: The Ghosts of Flatbush a documentary about the Brooklyn Dodgers running on HBO but also rentable, is one the greatest documentaries I've ever seen. I also very much enjoyed Harvard Beats Yale 29-29 which I rented from Netflix. Also, there are two bio-docs out about Bruce Springsteen, in which I appear. The one that is running on the Biography channel is OK. I am used mostly to talk about Bruce's childhood, rather than the music, on which I am apparently an insufficient authority. The second one, which is available commercially, is 150 minutes long and from what I can remember from the interviews, ought to be pretty erudite. You can read about that one here. I'll review it when I get it.

Pierce is early this week:

CHARLES PIERCE
NEWTON, MA.

Hey Doc:

"I want to be misunderstood/Just want to be feared in my neighborhood."

Weekly WWOZ Pick To Click: "Voodoo Woman" (Big Chief Monk Boudreaux) -- Once again this week, I neglected to reprogram the malfunctioning computers in Glenn Beck's humanity to make him weep for how much I love New Orleans.

Short Takes:

Part The First: God, I know that Ricky says he's your friend, but we used to be pretty close, so, if it's OK with You, can You please make this happen? If You don't, You don't love me enough.

Part The Second: Yes, ma'am, the senator would like to speak with you. Unfortunately, you appear to be a moron. Here's a nice souvenir pen. Try not to take your eye out with it.

Part The Third: Sorry, Michael, but any piece on this topic that does not contain the words "Harry Dent" is not worth my time.

Part The Fourth: In case you've been waiting for the perfect blend of Beltway Brain Candy--"Hey, you got your smug in my stupid!" "No, you got your stupid on my smug!" -- well, have at it. Apparently, if enough people think you're not funny, you really are. (If a couple dozen people pelted him with eggs in the morning, he'd think he was Richard Pryor.) Elsewhere at Ye Olde House Of Mulch For Brains, this would be a lot more compelling if it hadn't been written by this guy. Scroll down for the real fun.

Part The Fifth: Waldo got into the Sterno again this week. Crazy people snuck in. "I realized that Palin's shrewdly timed metaphor spoke directly to the electorate's unease with the prospect of shadowy, unelected government figures controlling our lives. A death panel not only has the power of life and death but is itself a symptom of a Kafkaesque brave new world where authority has become remote, arbitrary and spectral. And as in the Spanish Inquisition, dissidence is heresy, persecuted and punished." Yeah, that's it, Camille. I put the over/under number on words in that passage about which Princess Dumbass of the Northwoods has not the faintest clue at eight. (I went back and forth on "spectral" before I realized she probably thinks it's the senator from Pennsylvania.) Any takers?

Part The Last: Folks at Netroots Nation can see me talk about the book in the exhibit hall Friday at about 12:50 p.m.

In 45 years of watching presidents--Dad took me to see Lyndon zip by in a motorcade back in '64 -- this is the first time I ever saw anyone anywhere near a presidential appearance who was packing and didn't have a badge. The general equanimity with which this was handled was flatly bizarre. More people got worked up by the faker in Missouri who sustained a vicious slip-and-fall and then an incomprehensible relapse the next day that put him in a wheelchair. Someone was at a presidential appearance with a gun. And he was proudly wearing it outside his pants, for all the honest world to see. (RIP, Townes). Forget the president for a minute. What if this cluck decides that he doesn't much like the folks gathered there who are on the other side of the issue from him? This is the cult of the NRA gone completely insane. Why not just let folks bring their Legally Licensed Firearms into the congressional gallery while we're at it? Or onto airplanes?

You couldn't get within two miles of the last guy if you had a placard reading, "We Think Your War Ill-Advised, Sir." People got rousted at rallies for wearing uncomplimentary T-shirts. This happened to credentialed journalists at the Republican convention a year ago. But this guy gets to stand there, visibly strapped, and wave his sign about the tree of liberty and the blood of patriots, and people just take it all as business as usual. He even gets a spot on Hardball, during which he appears to want a gold star for not capping anyone's ass while sounding like Jim (The Cruise) . I don't care what New Hampshire law says, this was nuts. And it's a godawful precedent.

Name: Merrill R. Frank
Hometown: Jackson Heights, NYC

In a more sane media culture and political environment a cable commentator who calls for the poisoning death of the Speaker of the House would be suspended or fired by their network as well as have a friendly visit called upon him by the FBI and Secret Service.

Intrepid author/blogger Dave Neiwert correctly refers to Beck and his rabble as "Eliminationists" basically a lunatic fringe of people who refuse to engage in debate and seek to have the other side removed from society or killed.

You figure in a country with a history of political assassinations, both attempted and real this stuff would not go unnoticed especially when the speaker of the house comes from a city where in 1978 the mayor and supervisor were assassinated by crazed fellow supervisor Dan White, a guy with views not far removed from Mr. Beck. Though in today's culture if Mr. White were alive he would be an honored guest on Beck's show yucking it up while sharing a Twinkie.

Name: Tim Burga
Hometown: Dallas, TX

Ben Jenkins should be more careful when declaring Gates-gate to be an open and shut case. The 911 caller did not speak directly to Crowley; she spoke to a call taker, who then relayed the information to a radio dispatcher, who then relayed the info to Crowley. Any one of the individuals involved may have inadvertently (or otherwise) added the details about the suspect's race. If the dispatch audio tapes-- not the 911 tapes--have not been released, proving that Crowley added the details about race is impossible.

Name: Ed Dufilho
Hometown: Arlington, TX

As a Louisiana native and a fan of Charles Pierce, I had to laugh out loud at the thought of a healthcare campaign led by Huey Long. Can you imagine the bloody trail of opponents he would have left in his wake? I can see him rolling on the floor of his suite in the Roosevelt Hotel in helpless laughter. He'd tear James Inhofe so many new ones he could blow in his mouth and play him like a flute.

Name: Ed Tracey
Hometown: Lebanon, New Hampshire

While our friends in Argentina's military dictatorship of the 1970's- 80's had their hands full rounding up trade unionists, students and leftists: apparently they weren't so busy that they overlooked banning 200 pop and rock songs of the era, according to recently declassified documents. Pink Floyd, John Lennon, Ian Dury, Queen .... hey, even Donna Summer were deemed unacceptable for the citizenry.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/aug/06/argentina- junta-banned- songs-pop/print

I would have to disqualify myself, however, from sitting in judgment of the junta on this grave matter. I fear I would be too susceptible to pleas for leniency, were his attorneys to remind me that General Galtieri also banned Rod Stewart's "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?"

Name: David Durham
Hometown: Chattanooga, TN

I first became aware of Mott The Hoople via In Concert and The Midnight Special. Back then it was all about guitars and my buds and I thought the 'H' guitar was really cool. All The Young Dudes was the first of their albums I picked up. I wore it out. At this time I was living in the south and Southern rock was king, but I was more intrigued with what was happening in Europe. Bands like Genesis, Roxy Music and Pink Floyd (Pre-Darkside) were really pushing the limits and I responded to this radicalism in a big way. Some friends and I drove the hundred miles to see Mott at the Fox Theatre in Atlanta in 1974. Queen opened for them. Now I had been raised in L.A. before moving to Chattanooga, TN in '72 and was perhaps a bit more worldly than my companions so the actual queens in attendance didn't freak me out , but did make my buds a bit uncomfortable. I felt acceptance of weirdness was a mark of hipness and told them to like 'mellow out man'. To their credit they did. We all loved the show. The following Monday we were back at our high school talking up the show and someone commented, "Ian Hunter's a fag man, didn't you know that?" One of my friends who'd gone with me, and was not someone you'd describe as particularly enlightened, said, "Well he may be a fag, but he can rock!" Now I don't know what Mr. Hunter's sexual orientation is and don't care, but to this day, I can't think of a better compliment one could bestow on him.

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