Or fuck Sam Giancana's mistress:

One of the smartest comments of the week, and certainly the funniest, comes from Ramesh Ponnuru at the National Review re Caroline Kennedy's New York Times editorial endorsing Obama:

"She says that Obama could be a president like her father. I assume that means he'll be overrated, not that he'll bring us to the brink of nuclear war."

I respect Caroline Kennedy quite a bit, but for eight years I attended Catholic schools where JFK was considered on par with Jesus, the Pope and ice cream. So I find it refreshing whenever a more objective view of our thirty-fifth chief executive is presented.

Link:

http://corner.nationalreview.com/post/?q=MjU5MjJkNjRjODlhZjgzNDQxZDZhYjk4ZTFmZTE2MDI=

The CDC needs to look into this:

For the past two nights, I've slept in my "Team Bukowski" sweatshirt.

Today, I walked without a cane for the first time in a month.

Coincidence?

I don't think so.

It seems strange that a few weeks ago...

...I said that, in spite of my support for Obama, I would "gladly" vote for HRC if she gets the nom. Obviously, I'll still check her name if it comes to that, but it'll be with the enthusiasm I muster for changing the litter box or getting my car serviced.

I'm totally disgusted by the Clintons' recent comportment and that's a hard thing to write because I've considered her a gifted senator and I voted for WJC twice. While even Chelsea would acknowledge her folks sometimes committed acts of preposterous skeev, they seemed to have a greater goal in sight. Now, like breading coats chicken, they are sealed in a crust of venality.

On a related note, and I'm saying this as someone who's been a feminist since she was a little kid, today's statement from N.O.W.'s New York chapter is reductive and verging on paranoid. It's self-evident that you can be a feminist and support Obama--or any candidate besides Huckabee, really--and I can't see how a sentient person concludes otherwise. Kudos to the national chapter for distancing itself.

Heath Ledger 1979-2008

I read about Heath Ledger's untimely death a few hours ago and I still can't wrap my mind around it. His portrayal of Ennis Del Mar in Brokeback Mountain is one for the ages and his role as the damaged son in Monster's Ball sticks in your head like glass in skin. [Sidenote: Billy Bob Thornton, who played Ledger's father in MB, just wrapped a film with Brad Renfro, who died last week. His grief must be intractable.]

Thoughts and prayers to Ledger's family and friends. And to those of journalist Frances Lewine and actress Suzanne Pleshette, both of whom died on Saturday and were classy ladies who forged work of lasting impact.

Melange:

1) Received some very good news yesterday re my novel. Many, many, many hurdles left to clear, but it's nice to have a few behind me.

2) Had another short story accepted. Candy apple awesomeness.

3) A bad cold turned into pneumonia and I'm the weakest I've been since I had surgery five years ago. Have received many offers to help. Haven't taken anyone up on it, but I'm touched by everyone's kindness. Much love, and you guys remain forever on the chocolate list.

4) Reminded again that some individuals cannot metabolize any mention of illness. A tad pathetic, considering all of us are in our forties.

5) B.E.T. founder Bob Johnson just apologized to Barack Obama for the ridiculous comments he made at a Hillary Clinton rally last Sunday, which fell almost ten years to the day after the Monica Lewinsky story broke. Impressed with the Obama camp's wisdom in not responding, "Prior bad acts. Really?"

6) Wish molecular biologists would clone Mike Huckabee so that I could kick someone just like Mike Huckabee in the balls and not get razed by Secret Service.

7) "The West Wing" on DVD is a pneumonic girl's best friend.

And now we momentarily turn our attention to the rock:

Light in the Attic Records asked a bunch of writers and musicians to choose our favorite discs and/or sundry things of 2007. We're listed alphabetically, so I'm several spots below Robert Christgau and directly above Greg Dulli, which pleases me more than snowflakes:

http://www.lightintheattic.net/news/?p=339#more-339

As always, mad love to Light in the Attic publicist and talented scribe, my friend, Mr. Chris Estey.

Election notes:

1) As I wrote the other day, I'm backing Barack Obama, but I'll gladly vote for Hillary Clinton if she's the Democratic candidate. So I can't help but feel irked on her behalf given the inane comments she's endured since Saturday's debate. I like that she got fired up when John Edwards and Obama tag-teamed her and I think her reaction was reasonable and proportionate. I don't get what George Stephanopolous was on about when he said during his post-debate wrap-up (and I'm paraphrasing), that it wasn't "her finest moment". "Fired up" is Edwards' default setting for fuck's sake and no one spills their coffee when he raises his voice. Then today every news outlet in the Western world has run on a seemingly endless loop that clip of Hillary tearing up. Pundits, she's human. I'm sure she digests food, sheds skin, coughs when she's sick and that, if you cut her, she will bleed. Climb off her ass and move on to something to relevant.

2) In what has to be the most surreal moment of the campaign so far, Eugene Mirman shook Mike Huckabee's hand at a campaign stop in New Hampshire this morning. CNN has run the footage several times as part of its NH primary coverage, never once mentioning that the non-descript guy in the diner crowd who smiles and addresses Huckabee is Eugene Mirman. I'm not surprised that no one in the newsroom is familiar with Mirman's work and that makes the whole scenario funnier. I just checked Mirman's site and found no mention of it, but I suspect this won't remain true for long. If he has waffles with Romney next week in Michigan, we'll know something awesome this way comes.

If Top Pot gets converted to a bistro, I will go Bastille on someone:

Last month, in an act bursting with douche-itude, club owner Stephanie Dorgan unceremoniously yanked the plug on Seattle's beloved and historic music venue, the Crocodile Cafe. (Though it's like choosing a favorite bunny, my fondest memory comes from the night I told a friend, "In my heart, I'll always be a sixteen year old R.E.M. fan", not realizing we were within earshot of Peter Buck, who turned around and nodded.)

Yesterday morning, Mom called to tell me that Sunset Bowl, where my brother and my friend, Eva, hurled vending machine cheese and crackers at each other with the force of gladiators and got us kicked out on more than one occasion, has been sold to a developer and likely will be replaced by condos.

Then last night I read that M. Coy Books, a store I have frequented most of my adult life and a favored stop on my Pike Place Market treks, will close in February because the proprietors can no longer afford the lease.

Fuck. Why not turn the Space Needle into a high rise and be done with it?

Or his cigar:

For the past few months, I've been on the fence between Obama and Clinton. While I will gladly vote for either of them in the general election, this morning I made up my mind.

I support Barack Obama because I believe he has the intelligence, compassion, and wherewithal to lead the U.S. in establishing universal (or near-universal) health care, to implement environmentally sound and financially smart energy policies, and to alleviate some of the cynicism and disgust that's become endemic to American politics over the past few decades. I think he understands the complexity and danger of national security issues and that he would be a highly effective communicator when interacting with other heads of state. I like that he reaches out to independents and Republicans because there are individuals with active minds and kind hearts across the spectrum and at this juncture in history, when our survival as a species and our stature as a nation are not necessarily assured, I think it's essential to underscore our commonality or we're really, truly fucked. Obama is the rare politician I'd like to vote for and have lunch with, and assuredly, he would appreciate Mom's baklava.

Please, dear god, never let him stick his member where it does not belong.

There's so much I want to write about...

...and I'll get to it soon, but right now I'm still thinking about the family and friends of Shannon Harps. Their loss and grief must be incalculable.

I had lunch a few blocks away from where Harps was murdered a few hours before she was attacked on New Year's Eve. Due to the savagery of the crime, the Seattle Police Department says not to walk alone on Capitol Hill while the suspect is still at large, and this saddens me, as traipsing the Hill is my favorite part of living here.

Thoughts and prayers to those who knew her.

More:

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2004105581_webstabbing03m.html