Another serving of moonwalk tears

No one bearing four functioning neurons expected early abatement of the hair-pulling, shrieking, face-blackening national grief orgy on the electric teevee, but somehow I expected a little more from the mighty AP newspaper service which still contributes to my support.

The world's largest news operation believes, in this fourth day of Michael's enforced absence, that the most world's most vital story is cops interviewing his doctor.

The frogs disagree. AFP editors judge Janet's demand for autopsy redux as the supremely significant event of this news cycle.

Morbidity saturation alert

Two celebrities, both talented and very lucky, died within the past three days, and already the media are altering my consciousness of Farrah and Michael.

They and I had an excellent working relationship. I never thought about them, and they undoubtedly returned the courtesy. The increasing nausea I feel at the mentiion of either name is a media-driven event.

RIP, the both of you. (And between us, Farrah, I'll miss you quite a little more.)

Sure I will

Suspend disbelief, at least for a while. Missing the title, cast, name of executive producer's mistress's cat, I don't know what I'm watching except that a loincloth-clad guy is poised high on desert rock and wipes out his distant moving target -- a guy pushing a jeep right along. One shot, through the wind screen, between the eyes. The sniper weapon is a US M1 carbine, scoped. Hokay. They'll either justify the odd long-range pop choice or I'll get to grunt a bunch of derisive snorts.

Why yes, it is raining rather heavily. How ever did you know?

EDIT: Coogan's Bluff. Baaah.

SUX*

A faithful reader occasionally mentions the reputation we Northern Plains rurales have for good sense, rational laws, all that salt-of-America stuff. It could be we once did,** but no longer. Whatever authoritarian kumbayah juice is consumed in megaglobia seems to have leeched into our ground water, and Sioux City Sue is about to be declared a criminal if she sets the old rocker out on the porch.***

"The ordinance would make it illegal for residents to keep indoor furniture and appliances on their unenclosed front porches, driveways, patios, roofs or yards."

Maybe the scariest thing: The proposed ordinance is so prone to mockery that the Leaders are starting to promise that they won't actually use it. It'll just hide in the books for emergency deployment, so: (a) Call it a concealed harassment permit for use against people City Hall no like. (b) Think about selective use of silly statutes in context of our trumpeted belief in a "government of laws, not men."

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*Google it in airport codes and grin.

**But maybe not. I once covered a knock-down, drag-out legislative debate over repeal of a law requiring hotels to iron the bed sheets.

***I don't know for sure that Norman Rockwell ever painted a Saturday Evening Post cover of Grandma rocking away on the the front porch, handing out fresh cookies to one and all, but if he didn't I'll kiss your arse at the Sgt. Floyd Monument, loan you a loaded camera, and sign an unlimited model release.