Mood:  accident prone

"Sir Alfred of Wayward, this is Frodo, Keeper of the Ring."

"To what do I owe this pleasure, and could you please be brief, I do have this issue in the Colonies, you know?"

"I understand your Majesty, and empathize with anyone who has to contend with those pesky Americans."

"Indeed, and what can I do for our distinguished visitor from the Shire."

"Well Sir, having once lived in the City of Orleans, Frodo understands the importance of British Petroleum to the local economy, and the need for a continuing relationship.  It is just that fact that disturbs him when he considers the reality of this continuing unpleasantness surrounding the Horizon Spill."

"In what way, might I ask?"

"Wayward Old Boy, don't you realize that the oil well you've dug connects with every dome of oil in the world?  You've tapped into all of the oil that there is on this small, blue planet, and that that damn well is not going to stop until all of the oil reserves that exist are expunged/"

"So?"

"SO!  Don't you get the message, this well will keep pumping crude into the Gulf of Mexico until there is no more oil at all."

"Oh pish-and-tush.  The relief wells will connect in August, and then the little shrimpee barbies can get back to business there in lower Alabama, or whatever they call that dreadful place.  You do know that we have to pay our employees 'tropical duty pay' for tolerating that climate?"

"That's what I thought, you aren't aware that those wells will most likely run like the present process, only there will be three, rather than one, spouting uncontrolled into the ocean."

"Who told you that?  Where do you get such information"

 "Wayward, Wayward.  It is right there in the e-mails sent by the employees on Horizon, just before the explosion."

"Was there."

"Pardon?"

"Was there, I said."

"What do you mean?"

"Those systems suffered damage after the explosion, and have been lost."

"What kind of damage?  The e-mails were received and logged in portals throughout the company. "

"The systems suffered oil damage."

"That's impossible.  But what's more important is the fact that you do seem to be aware of the fact that you have been tapping into every oil well in the world, and that now all of that oil is gushing into the Gulf of Mexico, and we can't stop it."

"As I said, so?" 

"Your Lordship, I implore you to consider the impact if this information became public knowledge."

"Impact?  What impact?  It would take 50 years for issues such as these to wend their way through the British judicial processes.  By that time, I don't think that either of us will have much to worry about."

"I'm appalled."

"My dear Frodo, have you considered the price of a barrel of oil if all that remains is that which has been skimmed from the Gulf in our tankers?"

"You're suggesting that this was not an accident?"

"My boy, the Sun never sits on the British Empire."

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 3:52 PM EDT

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Mood:  smelly

Joel Chandler Harris was once the Editor of THE ATLANTA CONSTITOTION, and also spent time served as Mayor of the City of Atlanta.  His home is known as The Wren's Nest, and it is open daily for tours.  If you go, be sure and call ahead and ask about "Story Time."  Tell them Frodo sent you.

With apologies and appreciation, Frodo submits a cacophony of the actual with the fictional.  Perhaps you may laugh, in the midst of something too horrible to think about this evenin'.

"Didn't the Republicants never destroy the country, Mister Frodo?"

"They come mighty nigh it, honey, sho's you born.  Brer Cheney went to work en got dem some tar, en mix it wid some turkentime, en fix up a contrapshun wat he call a Tar-Ball, en he tuck dish yer Tar-Ball and spred it all along da beaches, and den he lay off in de bushes fer to see wat wuz gwine ter be.  Bimeby here come Brer Obama pacin down de shoreline--lippity-clippity, clippity-lippity.  Brer Cheney, he lay low."

"Good morning, nice weather we're having," said Brer Obama.

Tar-Ball ain't sayin' nuttin'.  Brer Cheney he lay low.

"Is there something wrong?," said Brer Obama.

Tar-Ball sed nuttin', Brer Cheney lay low.

"I say, are you deaf?  I can speak much louder if that will help," said Brer Obama.

Tar-Ball stay still, en Brer Cheney, he lay low.

"Are you refusing my attempts at bipartisanship?'" said Brer Obama.

Brer Cheney chuckle in his stummuck, and de Tar-Ball sed nuttin'.

"I am going to complete my agenda to benefit all the people, and if you don't want to discuss the issues, then I will push you out of the way," said Brer Obama.

Tar-Ball stay still, en Brer Cheney, he lay low.

Presently, after axin him many times, Brer Obama he reach back and push de Tar-Ball wid all his might.  His fisses got caught in dat Tar-Ball.  De tar hilt him.  Tar-Ball sed nuttin', Brer Cheney lay low.

"If you don't let loose of our wetlands and our beaches, and let our people get back to work, I'm going to kick you out of the way," said Brer Obama.  Tar-Ball ain't sayin' nuttin', en Brer Cheney he lay low.

De Tar-Ball den hilt him on and soon Brer Obama lose de use er his feet in de same way.  Brer Cheney, he lay low.  Den Brer Obama squall at de Tar-Ball en den he butt him crank-sided en den his hhead got stuck too.

Brer Cheney, he sauntered fort', lookin' jez as innercent as wunner yo mammy's mockin'birds.

"Howdy, Mister President.  You look like you're stuck," sez he, en laft en laft tewel he couldn't laff no mo.

"Did the Republicants destroy everything?, Mr. Frodo."

"Dat's all de fur de tale goes.  Dey mout and dey mout not."

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:16 PM EDT

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Mood:  special

There is a picture that Frodo treasures.  Two very pretty young ladies stand arm-in-arm, smiling from head-to-toe, and only an alien from outer space would fail to recognize either the hair or the style of dress; definitely World War II.  Blanche and Bilbo were sisters, and Frodo grew up believing that they had always been the best of friends, and he loved them both.

Blanche was a beauty for all times and places.  Her dark hair, and lollapalooza build was a tribute to whoever it is that first designed the female frame.  She was the first "party girl" that Frodo ever knew, and his relationship to her may have shaped both his respect for women, and his insatiable desire to participate in the chase.

Blanche was famous for always knowing in what location on our small blue planet it happened to already be 5:00 PM.  Most often, she would turn to Frodo and ask him if he were ready for a "Black Russian."  The concoction included, for the uninitiated, Kahlua, which Blanche made by hand and stored in every refrigerator in every house she ever visited.  The major component to her Kahlua was Vanilla, but not just any Vanilla, it had to be "Mexican Vanilla."  Frodo does not know to this day what it is that makes "Mexican Vanilla" different, but the proof is in the combustion.

Long after all the others of a lifetime had gone to bed, Frodo and Blanche would discuss the merits of anything from poetry to, of course "Mexican Vanilla."  Blanche never went beyond the eighth-grade, but she enjoyed Frodo's company and his rant more than anyone.

Frodo's Aunt Blanche slipped from the surly bonds at 9:00 PM this past evening.  Pardon Frodo for  the hour soon approaches on the end of the first day in Frodo's life without her.

Time for a Black Russian.

Not much else to say, is there?

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:59 PM EDT

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Mood:  quizzical

Frodo lumps conspiracy theorists with people who slurp soup from a saucer.  It is anathema for the Hobbit to offer assumptions about that which motivates the actions of others.  What follows, in Hobbit format, is a set of facts, any part of which may be therefore criticized as inadequately documented for a public discourse.  Frodo merely suggests herein to those who, like the Hobbit, wonder why so much brutality is committed in the name of faith.

In 1985, Mr. Kamal Salibi, a citizen of Lebanon, authored a book entitled "The Bible Came From Arabia."  Salibi's credibility as a scholar, enhanced by his knowledge of the language known as "Old Hebrew," was as a challenger to the translations of Saint Jerome.  Jerome had devoted thirty of his years to the translation into Latin of the Old Testament, which is known to History as the Vulgate, and was first published in the Fourth Century before, as we might say, Christ.  It is important to note that the oldest surviving "Old Hebrew" presentation of the Old Testament, known as the Aleppo Codex, dates back another 400 years 

"Old Hebrew" basically disappeared from common usage about a century before Jerome's herculean task commenced.  Jerome's effort was even further hindered by the fact that "Old Hebrew," not unlike modern-day Mandarin Chinese for example, may have different meanings dependent on tone and not spelling.  Many of Jerome's assessments of a written word, absent any tonal presentation, have been routinely challenged for centuries.

Salibi's theorem, and the subject of at least four more books, was that there were significant potential variances in the location of towns and geographic locations cited by Jerome in his translation effort

So?

Abraham was told by God that the land of Canaan would belong to him and then to Isaac as his heir.  The Book of Genesis in the Old Testament references the land passed through Isaac to the Jewish peoples, for all time.  It is the land upon which the modern state of Israel exists.  Salibi argues that the translation does not properly identify the land.  He adds that there is "not one shred of physical evidence" to document the events described in the Old Testament in the territory identified as Israel.  He counter-argues that there is substantial similarity in descriptive language to give credence to the true location as the present border of land upon the Red Sea.

One of the locations described by Salibi is the present-day town known as Asir, which is referenced in the original "Old Hebrew" as part of the land of Canaan.  Asir is located near the Red Sea in the modern-day country of Saudi Arabia.

Salibi states that the Saudis have steadfastly refused all eforts at archeological study of Asir and the surrounding villages.  In fact, many of the areas have subsequently been bulldozed.   Given the dimensional inferences and alternative translations available to this scholar of "Old Hebrew," he asserts that the true land dimensions of the Israeli State would not only include Asir, but the nearby town named Mecca.

Wouldn't that be a hoot?

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:44 PM EDT

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Mood:  incredulous

"If," Frodo asked, "you could pick two others from all of world history with whom you would like to be compared, who would you pick?"

"Well, first of all," said his companion, "what's the point? 

"Because there is so much of it these days.  Politicians liken their opponents to tyrants, athletes are stacked up against heroes of the past, writers are reviewed as the re-birth of cultural icons, so why not take a look at yourself and compare.?"

"Okay, so George W. Bush, for example, could be associated with King John (brother of Richard the Lion-Heart) and Alfred E. Newman?"

"That's good," said Frodo, "not that those would be his choices, but you're getting the idea.  Someone else might suggest 'Wrong Way' Corrigan and Herbert Hoover, while Bush himself might say John Wayne and Jesus of Nazareth."

"Gag me with a spoon."

"Frodo might see himself as associated with Mark Twain and Clark Gable, recognizing that some might see him as more akin to Clarabelle and Homer Simpson."

"Funny.  Give me a couple to associate with Newt Gingrich."

"Oh the possibilities," said Frodo, "what say Huey Long and Fibber McGee?

"I think I'd go for Fatty Arbuckle and Rush Limbaugh."

"Bingo, right on."

"Here's a toughie.  Rand Paul.'

'Louis Farakkhan and Prince Bandahar.'

'Okay.  You'll have to explain that to me.'

'Easy.  Rand Paul is one of only three people to ever agree to, then cancel, a scheduled appearance on 'Meet The Press'.'

'Says a lot.'

'Imagine how he must see himself.'

'Yeah, like maybe Martin Luther and Captain America.'

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:02 AM EDT

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Mood:  accident prone

If you have heard enough about healthcare reform to last a lifetime, then please feel free to save Frodo for another day, and proceed to another blog.  Otherwise, what follows will give you pause, and add more fuel to your fire.

Bilbo is in the hospital.  Actually, Bilbo is in the hospital, waiting to be discharged, but to where is the question (not to quibble with the Prince of Denmark).  Bilbo is in the last stages of life, but continues to fight the competing onslaught of congestive heart failure, which begets pneumonia, which begets congestive heart failure, which begets pneumonia. . .Frodo assumes the picture is clear.  Bilbo was a beautician in the era of the bouffaint, and many years of hairspray contributed more to her present state than all the cigarettes which ever bore the manufacturers seal of Lorillard & Co.

It has been deemed by medical personnel of all specialty and level of command that she is fit to release unto a facility known as "re-hab."  It is believed that after a couple of weeks, she can return to her regular abode, but that "independent living" will become a phrase of the past, and that "assisted living" will be the facility required ad infinitum.  The bizarreness arises when one realizes that Bilbo was technically released from the hospital two days ago, but she remains there, as a present day "Prisoner of Zenda," one might say.  Bilbo has a "Medicare Advantage Plan," which, in this case, involves the megalith Humana (which bears a striking resemblance to the earlier citation of BP).  Humana took almost three days to be convinced by medical minds and technical wizards that a 92-year-old in Bilbo's state could not be wheeled out to the curb and left to her own devices.  Humana, it seems, is pissed that their fees continue to be reduced by Medicare, and that even with the co-pay to which they agreed, there is reason to have their accountants search for reasons not to meet their obligations.

There is a weight upon Frodo's shoulders.  He has also learned more about the mess that ensnarls us all than he had ever dreamed he would know.  After all the folderol, Frodo truly wishes that every resident of the State of Texas, and Rand Paul, someday (if not immediately) come under the aegis of a "Medicare Advantage Plan" that dumps them curbside, too.

Note also that Doctor Rand Paul is FOR the portion of the changes to Medicare that add to the guarantees paid to physicians.

At this point, InHumana (note Frodo's editorial spelling) has finally acquiesed, but it is now Friday, past quitting time.  The result being that Bilbo needlessly stays in the hospital until at least Monday--and since Bilbo is a "Medicare patient," that means that the bills are paid by you, and by Frodo.  It is as if this was an intentional act in order to vent their outrage at losing the fight.

Every battle is costly, and Frodo eats less and drinks more.  Have patience, dear reader, if you look and he's not there.  The keyboard comes last.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 11:05 PM EDT

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Mood:  loud

Every once in a while Frodo needs to be reminded about who he is, and what he happens to believe.  He was reminded last night by a guy Frodo calls a "Librarian."  Librarians are perfectly logical people, witness the Dewey Decimal System, who present themselves as authority figures in a controlled environment.  Their predisposition is that all of society is merely one big library, and the librarian serves only to maintain order.  Who enters the library is of no concern to the librarian, unless it is someone whom the librarian feels justified in excluding.  No one, ever, questions the right of the librarian to make that decision.

Frodo has always wondered about that person who is excluded from the library. 

When Frodo was 12 years old, the McLean Baptist Church adopted a new Constitution.  A question was raised about the passage whuch stated that the "Church exercised the right to refuse service to anyone."  The librarian explained that some people may not be properly attired, or had not adequately cleaned themselves, thereby making them offensive to their neighbors in the McLean Baptist Church.

Frodo wondered, perhaps for the first time, WWJD?  Frodo decided that such a conclusion was above his pay-grade, so he stepped out the door of the McLean Baptist Church one more time, and never since that day has he crossed back inside. 

When Frodo was 15 years old, he went to the Virginia State High School Debate Finals held on the idyllic surroundings of America's most beautiful university.  On the way back home, the bus stopped by a wayside diner, that really was retired train car, to allow the all-white passengers to enter for burgers and shakes.  Bobbie Howard, who was dating one of Frodo's best friends stood outside, and would not enter.  Frodo was not aware of her concern until he saw the sign on the door, which read "Management Reserves the Right to Refuse Service to Anyone."  Frodo, Bobbie, and the bus driver, were the only ones who stayed outside. 

Some years later, on a night when Frodo had two tickets and no date, Frodo took Bobbie to a play, and when he walked her to the front door of her home, she kissed him.  She said, "Thank you for sitting with me outside that diner that night."

Frodo never knew the bus driver's name, and he doesn't remember even speaking to him as he got off the bus, but he remembers the smile, and the fingers touching the brim of his cap.

It is too bad that Rand Paul never got to know Bobbie Howard.  But the worst part is that he probably has no knowledge of the names Schwerner, Chaney, or Goodman. 

Librarians suck.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:58 PM EDT

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Mood:  on fire

Frodo has a few questions.  Why aren't we refusing to purchase British Petroleum products?  Who in the name of good sense agreed to a "cap" on damages to be paid by oil companies in the event of a catastrophic oil spill?  Why aren't the tides carrying all of this crap right onto the beaches of Texas?  Why haven't we, as a nation, set a deadline for British Petroleum to shut off the leak or to suffer the consequence of a government nationalization?  And whatever happened to Sarah Palin?

Does anyone doubt that nationalizing their multi-billion dollar profit might change their priorities?  Is there anyone who is satisfied with their planning, their response to the disaster, or even their attitude?  Frodo is suggesting that we give these executives 48 hours, and not a minute more.  All we have to do is declare a National Emergency, and do something similar to the actions taken by President Truman when he nationalized an entire industry.

Hasn't anyone considered a whole bunch of big fans, pointing west, right toward the Houston Ship Channel?  That place was so polluted by oil leaks for decades that the surface of the water burned continuously for months on end.  So why not send the problem right back to the tax-dodging, reactionary hypocrites with names like Hunt, Bush, and Graham who have been giving each other tax breaks and crippling any effort to regulate their own passage to Valhalla?

Why hasn't somebody printed a list of every member of Congress who ever voted to support a "cap" on oil company liability?  We've heard from Snarkowski, Republican of Alaska, and that Republican dork from Okiehomey named Incontinent, who have argued that failure to maintain such a "cap" would hurt "mom and pop" oil companies.  Holy Moley, and nobody, and Frodo means nobody, has stood up, undid a belt, turned around, and "mooned" either of them.   How blatant do they have to be?  They think, like Sarah Palin, that if they just recite enough words, we will get bored and go away.

Not Frodo.

Pass it around.  Don't buy BP.  Go to any other gasoline station.  Ride a bike.  Do anything, but don't give them a damn dime until they stop the leaks.

Don't buy BP.

Your life depends on it.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 11:20 PM EDT

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Mood:  amorous

Frodo seems to be the targeted recipient of an expanding marketing effort by organizations attempting to foster the sale of certain goods and services.  Erectile Dysfunction and the length of his penis seem to have gotten the attention of people totally unknown to the Hobbit (admittedly, his memory is not flawless in this regard).  To the best of Frodo's recollection however, neither of these have been subjects discussed by or with anyone since pre-pubesence.   What then do these guys know, and when did they find out about it?

First of all, Frodo, even without chemical additives, would immediately call a physician if he experienced more than four hours in a priaptic state.  Frodo has neither the knowledge nor the curiosity to attend to the experiences of the competition, living or dead.  If the intent of this sales effort is to encourage the Hobbit to purchase products which replace or supplement that which still comes to him naturally, although he has questions about who will need, much less feed, him once he turns 64, then Frodo can only conclude that Mark Penn is the genius behind this.  He is probably still pissed that Frodo failed to endorse Mrs. Clinton.

There is an old expression about showing me yours if I show you mine.  Frodo has applied this in jest to old friends, with spouses whom he has never met.  Exclusive of that, the only other instances in which this becomes an item of scrutiny is in the openness of the locker room.  Frodo, as the smallest of Hobbits was very sensitive to this joint exposure in his first appearances in this public forum.  Surely, in those days, Frodo would have spared no expense in the effort to improve his self-perceived competitive equality.  With the passage of time however, Frodo is more concerned about remembering to pack his flip-flops thereby lessening the potential for athlete's foot (not a STD, as best science has so far determined). 

Frodo believes these advertisements and their mailing lists come from the same companies who kept sending him postage stamps from Andorra when he was twelve years old.  He probably bought a few, and these guys figured to never let this sucker get away.  In the effort to intimidate those deluging him with such correspondence, Frodo may have used the pseudonym of a former gangster slain by the famed FBI Agent, Melvin Purvis.

There is an answer to every problem.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:27 PM EDT

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Mood:  smelly

Frodo has quite an imagination.  He now imagines himself as an Indian Warrior, standing helplessly as smallpox ravages his tribe, accepting the inevitable.  The analogy to a Hobbit peering upon the Gulf of Mexico, knowing that the petrochemical poisons come closer with every change of tide, weighs heavily on his mind.

The Indian Warrior is able to cradle a small head in his hands, and to offer some comfort to one who dies too young.  Frodo watches the best of us as they clean the wings and cage the surviving innocents for transit to land unsullied. 

The Indian Warrior will dance and pray to Manitou in a vain effort to halt the evil spirits that bring pestilence to those who committed no crime.  Frodo sees the untiring effort of fishermen, soldiers, inmates, among us all who seek to clear the surface waters while prayers pass to the wind.

The Indian Warrior will long ignore the pustules that develop on his own body, but he, too, will succumb to the irritation upon his skin.  His life's blood will soon ooze and fall in droplets beneath his feet.  Frodo can almost smell the burnt aroma of the tar that gathers on the hazmat suits which cannot be washed away.  It coats the land which was formed by the land, and carried to meet the tide beneath the feet of those labor in this spot.

Fresh in Frodo's memory is the tragedy that last struck the City of Orleans, when the suffering was greatest among those born of servitude and raised in the solace of their own.  For now it is that those of pale complexion, who reside in lands closed to those from outside, must bear the weight of an end to life as they have known it.  It is as if there is a balance therein, and scales level the catastrophe from one to another.

The Indian Warrior and the Hobbit are not alone.  Others, before, have walked on this good earth, and surely, others will follow.  It is Terrebonne Parish upon which the plague descends, the good earth.       

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:33 PM EDT

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