John McCain or John Rambo?

After 7 years of a mangled foreign policy that plays like a bad Michael Bay movie––an action-packed extravaganza full of mustachioed villains, exploding Humvees and Clint Eastwood catch phrases: “Wanted dead or alive;” “Bring it on;” “Mission accomplished”––it is little wonder that the emerging GOP front runner is a decorated Vietnam war hero. Or that his wartime heroics consisted chiefly of doing hard time in a Viet Cong POW camp. He’s also a bit of a hot head. Which you’ve gotta love. Our very own Rambo. Maybe that’s why Senator McCain is Sylvester Stallone’s pick for Commander-in-chief. Maybe, that’s why TV action hero Chuck Norris is Huckabee’s Hollywood sidekick. Or why, actor Fred Thompson treated his run for the oval office like it was just another casting call. Look tough. Talk tough. Be tough. Cue the explosives. Bring up the music. Fade to black.

Party with the People’s Party

Bilawal Bhutto Zadari. He’s just your average freshman teenage boy. He has a Facebook page. He attends a prestigious rich kid university. And bottomline: he just wants to have fun. Oh…and did I mention…he’s the new joint leader of the Pakistan’s People’s Party. And, well, it’s putting a major cramp in his style. I mean, most teens come back from Christmas break with a new iPod… young Zadari comes back with a martyred mom and a new part time job making Pakistan safe for democracy. Major bummer. I mean, really! This kid should be throwing keggers, texting hot coeds and pledging a fraternity. But the media is all “Can I quote you?” and “Are you satisfied with the investigation of your mother’s death?” And Bilawai is all like “Whatever.” And it is just wrong. I mean, look at this kid. He’s wearing a fuzzy hoodie! Find Pakistan another savior. This kid needs to study for mid-terms.

Bon Voyage

I have a confession to make. I have a hard time taking anybody seriously who wears a tablecloth on his head. So when this Southern Californian dude sent out his tape calling for Muslims to greet our President’s first trip to the Middle East with bombs and booby traps, I’m like “This has got to be one of those YouTube prank tapes.” Just a kid blowing off steam. But apparently, this diaper-headed prankster has a price on his head. He’s a wanted man. He’s a member of al-Qaeda, for crying out loud! Well, now I’m all like:”Bring it on, al-Qaeda boy!” And then it hits me. This Administration’s war of terror is working. Even our homegrown al-Qaeda jihadists think this global war should be waged on Muslim soil. They are cooperating in this “we’re fighting them over there, so we don’t have to fight them over here” hooey. Want this American President dead? “Well, we’re not hijacking any more planes to D.C. He’s got to come to us.” Well, Mr. President, I never thought I would be saying this, but, Mission Accomplished.

But can he type?

Nice kid, this Obama. A real winner. You can’t help but like him. Unless, of course, you’re Hillary Clinton. See, this Obama kid is a rookie. That irks her. He won’t be ready for the job “day one.” This neophyte couldn’t find his way to the White House Kitchen. Senator Clinton probably could find the drawer with the butter knives blind-folded. Day one. But don’t get Senator First Lady wrong; she’s all for hope. Just not “false” hope. Apparently, that’s what this fresh-faced Junior Senator is peddling. Change. Hope. But not real change. Not real hope. The kid’s too inexperienced for that. Really? So let’s do a little research; let’s check into the kid’s record. What sort of stuff has Obama done? Um…well… produce change––real change––in a little place called Illinois. No false hope. No empty promises. Honest-to-goodness change. Read all about it. Apparently, this clean-cut, inspiring, smart-as-a-whip agent for change actually has accomplished a thing or two in his 46 years. So here’s an idea, Ms. Clinton: Attack the man’s policies. Stop taking pokes at his dream. After all, it’s our dream, too.

When dreams die

Seems like no one is satisfied with the explanation of Benazir Bhutto’s death. Odd, when you think about it. I mean, there are so many explanations to chose from. Something for everyone, really. She was killed by an assassin’s bullet. She was killed by a bullet-proof limo. She cracked her noggin. She had cracked the code on underhanded political shenanigans Even Pakistan’s President Pervez Musharraf isn’t satisfied. And he’s the calculating S.O.B. who engineered the whole thing––at least that’s one of the explanations. Now, maybe I sound a little callous. My apologies. But I come from a city that rather famously gunned down a President. And we are still trying to sort that one out. There’s the lone gunman theory. The two gunmen theory. The Mafia hit theory. The CIA hit theory. I think that there are even one or two that implicate LBJ, the Klu Klux Klan, Jackie and the Freemasons. It seems nobody likes it when visionaries die. We are afraid that the dream will die with them. And we are just not satisfied with lone gunmen and exploding people. We certainly take umbrage at the thought that a nasty fall could be the lethal culprit. Something big had to be afoot. So we conduct extensive investigations, convene our commissions, file our reports, then write our conspiracy books. Visionaries deserve nothing less. And the personal vanity of our collective dreams can’t possibly be so fragile that they can be ended so easily, so randomly. Dreams and dreamers deserve better.