Saving The World Economy, One Dress At A Time

You judged Paris Hilton all wrong. You thought she was nothing but a worthless, spoiled tramp, and I admit she played the part well. I myself was fooled for many years. But it turns out she’s actually a philanthropist who’s hip to the plight of the global economy. Don’t believe me? Check it out:

Party girl Paris defends Australian shopping spree


American socialite Paris Hilton has declared herself a saviour who shops for the greater good in tight economic times.

In Sydney to host an exclusive New Year’s dance party, the 27-year-old heir to the Hilton hotel fortune this week drew criticism for spending 5,560 Australian dollars (3,844 US dollars) in a 40-minute shopping spree.

Local charities accused her of callous excess but Hilton Wednesday defended the splurge.

“I’m in Australia, I think it’s important to help out, you know, the economy out here, everywhere in the world,” she told reporters, ahead of her New Year engagement.

“And what’s wrong with doing a little shopping? It’s New Year’s, I need a New Year’s dress.”

Acting Prime Minister Julia Gillard, questioned during a news conference Tuesday about Hilton’s shopping spree, commended the socialite for recognising Australia’s attraction as a fashion and shopping destination.

“I heard that a politician said that,” Hilton said. “I thought that was very sweet and it’s true.”

Hilton will be paid 100,000 Australian dollars by the party’s promoters for her Sydney appearance, promising a number of costume changes ahead of midnight.

Wow. That’s, like, totally cool and sweet. Now I know that I’ll be helping the economy when I go to the hardware store today to buy a pitchfork. Nothing wrong with a little shopping.

Merry Christmas, All You Sinners!

Deuteronomy, Chapter 13:

False prophets must be slain, and idolatrous cities destroyed.

13:1. If there rise in the midst of thee a prophet or one that saith he hath dreamed a dream, and he foretell a sign and a wonder,

13:2. And that come to pass which he spoke, and he say to thee: Let us go and follow strange gods, which thou knowest not, and let us serve them:

13:3. Thou shalt not hear the words of that prophet or dreamer: for the Lord your God trieth you, that it may appear whether you love him with all your heart, and with all your soul, or not.

13:4. Follow the Lord your God, and fear him, and keep his commandments, and hear his voice: him you shall serve, and to him you shall cleave.

13:5. And that prophet or forger of dreams shall be slain: because he spoke to draw you away from the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, and redeemed you from the house of bondage: to make thee go out of the way, which the Lord thy God commanded thee: and thou shalt take away the evil out of the midst of thee.

13:6. If thy brother the son of thy mother, or thy son, or daughter, or thy wife that is in thy bosom, or thy friend, whom thou lovest as thy own soul, would persuade thee secretly, saying: Let us go, and serve strange gods, which thou knowest not, nor thy fathers,

13:7. Of all the nations round about, that are near or afar off, from one end of the earth to the other,

13:8. Consent not to him, hear him not, neither let thy eye spare him to pity and conceal him,

13:9. But thou shalt presently put him to death. Let thy hand be first upon him, and afterwards the hands of all the people.

Presently put him to death... Not by killing him by private authority, but by informing the magistrate, and proceeding by order of justice. [Emphasis added]

13:10. With stones shall he be stoned to death: because he would have withdrawn thee from the Lord thy God, who brought thee out of the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage:

13:11. That all Israel hearing may fear, and may do no more any thing like this.

13:12. If in one of thy cities, which the Lord thy God shall give thee to dwell in, thou hear some say:

13:13. Children of Belial are gone out of the midst of thee, and have withdrawn the inhabitants of their city, and have said: Let us go, and serve strange gods which you know not:

Belial... That is, without yoke. Hence the wicked, who refuse to be subject to the divine law, are called in scripture the children of Belial.

13:14. Inquire carefully and diligently, the truth of the thing by looking well into it, and if thou find that which is said to be certain, and that this abomination hath been really committed,

13:15. Thou shalt forthwith kill the inhabitants of that city with the edge of the sword, and shalt destroy it and all things that are in it, even the cattle. [Emphasis added, with emphasis.]

13:16. And all the household goods that are there, thou shalt gather together in the midst of the streets thereof, and shall burn them with the city itself, so as to comsume all for the Lord thy God, and that it be a heap for ever: it shall be built no more.

Family values, the Bronze Age way!

I thought Andy Williams singing “Sleigh Ride” was agony. Jesus.

Merry Christmas, fellow idolaters!

Careers Open To Talent, and $70 Million

There’s a conspiracy afoot to make me care about the fact that Caroline Kennedy wants to be appointed to Hillary Clinton’s Senate seat. It’s not working. I do not now, nor have I ever, nor will I ever, give two stinking shits about it.

Let’s see. The wife of a former president gets kicked upstairs to head the State Department. Her probable replacement in the Senate is, miracle upon miracles, the daughter of another former president. And guess what? Her uncle once held that same Senate seat. Golly, what a whacky world! Had her brother not been killed in a plane crash, he’d probably be sitting in that spot right now, worming his way up the greasy pole to the presidency, sparing Ms. Kennedy the unfortunate duty of becoming a Washington politician. But fate decreed otherwise. Now the humble, retiring Ms. Kennedy must relinquish the quiet joys of private life and bravely devote herself to public affairs, like George Washington or Cincinnatus. She never wanted this. It just sort of happened, like a one night stand. One almost weeps over the irony of it all.

Of course, there are other considerations to take into account. According to Tuesday’s New York Times, NY Governor David Paterson, whose job it is to make the appointment, has come to see Ms. Kennedy as a strong potential candidate “whose personal connections would allow her to raise the roughly $70 million required to hold the seat in coming years.”

So she can scrape up a cool 70 million, eh? I think I smell a statesman, er, woman.

Take note, Mr. Blagojevich. If you’re going to hock a Senate seat, learn do it right, man! You used the hard sell when soft persuasion was in order. You had bad manners, bad hair, bad brains and the wrong pedigree. All you needed was a little proper breeding, young ruffian. Oh well, to Hell go the stupid. If life was fair, we’d all be a millionaire, and history would remember our names. Tough luck, Rod. You had bad style.

Perhaps I should be less cynical. Perhaps I should recall the commencement address spoken at my college graduation. It was very inspiring. Here’s a snippet of what the speaker had to say:

“If you think the system is broken, fix it; if you think it is dirty, clean it up,” she said, eliciting cheers from the audience of 20,000 spectators at the school's 97th commencement.

“Fight for your democracy by participating in it,” she said. “If you don’t, there won’t be a real democracy left to fight for.”

Who was the speaker?

Kathleen Kennedy Townsend, Bobby’s daughter, Jack and Teddy’s neice; Caroline’s cousin.

Viva la Democracia!

Words Words Words

Polonius: What do you read, my lord?
Hamlet: Words, words, words.

U.S. costs of Iraq, Afghan wars top $900 billion: report

Deep Thoughts With Dana Perino

This exchange occurred at today's White House press briefing:

Q Yes, the consumer prices numbers today -- a drop of 1.7 percent, a whopping decline. Is the White House -- is the President's team worried that this might be the beginning of the deflationary spiral in the economy?

MS. PERINO: Well, that's one way to look at it. But another way to look at it would be that lower prices are actually good for American consumers because that means that you have more money in your pocket in order to spend it on other things. And it's welcome in that energy prices act like a huge tax cut, because people have to get to work and back, and so they have more money in their pocket. ...

Thanks Miss Dana. Can we take off our bibs now?

Creative Destruction

A money quote from Stirling Newberry writing at Firedoglake:

"The problems with Detroit run deep, and there needs to be restructuring, but bankruptcy would lead to simply destruction. And the next time someone talks about creative destruction to you, remind them that the Great Depression created Hitler."

You Say Recession, I Say Depression . . .

. . . let's call the whole thing off. Quick.

Where I live, words like recession, market correction, downturn, depression or slump aren't abstract concepts that you stuff away in a mental file folder labeled "Bad". They are tangible, gut-punching realities that hurt. When times are tough, they're shitty; when they're good, they're not much better. Here, we rely on the tourist trade. That is to say, we depend on people having extra money, or what is cutely referred to in modern discourse as 'disposable income,' that they can toss away on stupid recreations like gambling and skiing. It's our life blood. Without that, we die. Even in boom times, chapter 11 is always just around the corner, lurking in the shadows with alcoholism, joblessness and suicide, waiting to feast. We aren't the underbelly. We're the udder, and when the cow's knees buckle, we're the first organ that gets slammed into the ground.

We've hit the ground. The squeeze is definitely on. Darkness is falling.

The symptoms of incipient economic collapse are sprouting up everywhere, like syphilitic cankers, hearkening the onset of Great Depression II. Businesses are dropping off. Nobody can pay the rent. Hours are being cut. Everyone is depressed. Wherever you look, the paint is peeling, the roofs are leaking. The foundation of our fragile lives is gradually moldering away. Applebee's restaurant had a job fair the other day. Over two hundred people showed up. Imagine that, two hundred people locked in Darwinian competition for a part-time job that pays eight dollars an hour.

Mission accomplished, Mr. Bush. Kudos to Mr. Greenspan as well, and Mr. Freidman, and all the other bright lights of capitalist theory going all the way back to Bastiat. You've won.

We've lost.

And it's cold. Butt cold. The heat bill rises in direct inverse proportion to our falling incomes.

I suppose George Will will tell me if I can't afford the heating bill, I should stop being cold. It's all about personal responsibility, you see.

Indeed it is. If my daddy was a professor who paid my way through graduate school, I might be sitting around the dinner table right now with Mona Charen and Rich Lowry wondering why all those liberals keep whining. Don't they realize the middle-class is only shrinking because so many of them are rising up? The Heritage Foundation and the Cato Institute say so. Statistics prove it.

Good God. I don't know what's worse, poverty or the obtuse self-righteousness of our ruling class. I'd say it's enough to drive me to drinking, but I already drink, so I'm one step ahead of he game, ha ha.

It's not going to be long before the first, faint whispers of scapegoating start drifting through the air. Count on it. If I was Mexican, I'd be racing back across the border, 'cause guess who's going to be blamed first . . .

Tuesdays with Henry

Henry Louis Mencken, that is:

"The notion that a radical is one who hates his country is naive and usually idiotic. He is, more likely, one who likes his country more than the rest of us, and is thus more disturbed than the rest of us when he sees it debauched. He is not a bad citizen turning to crime; he is a good citizen driven to despair."

An Irish Airman Foresees His Death

I've never read much W.B. Yeats, but I came across this poem of his the other day quite by accident and really liked it. It's an Irish pilot serving in the British Royal Flying Corps in the First World War. Not an enviable situation. It's called "An Irish Airman Foresees His Death":

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.