A long way to go and a short time to get there

Stained glass is from St Mary's Catholic Church in Fredericksburg, Texas.



As always, I meant to blog about the Feast of the Assumption yesterday, but it seems to be a DEAD AIR tradition that I miss the day, so here I am once again, a day late.

Driving down Woodruff Road this morning, I got a new round of nasty honked-horns, merely because I took a few extra seconds to turn left. I am WELL AWARE of the reason for this, since it never used to happen. And you know what? Even if I *am* personally pissed off at our president, I'll be goddamned if I let some redneck [1] bullies force me into taking my ANOTHER MAMA FOR OBAMA bumper sticker off my car. I recently added a Lone Star flag sticker, which I hope makes them think I'm packing (since everybody in Texas is)... MAYBE I'll get some fucking peace.

This has been making me more and more angry.

It has happened maybe a dozen times now. I don't know when, but at some point, I am gonna lose my shit and we will have a full-fledged road-rage incident on our hands. Your mild-mannered, humble narrator will morph into an insane Irish yankee bitch, right before their surprised eyes; I'll leap madly out of my tiny, plucky Saturn and get all up in their face. Then, the Obama-haters (who probably *are* packing) will shoot me and it will all be on Court TV.[2] The lawyers will produce my bumper stickers and blog as evidence of dangerous radical activity, and (this being the Palmetto State!) the accused will have all charges dismissed immediately (and will possibly even be canonized by Nikki Haley!)... In fact, the defendants will probably be offered a reality-TV show: Death to the libs! ...in which they drive randomly about the land, shooting people with the wrong (liberal) bumper stickers. It will be a BIG HIT.

I probably exaggerate. Probably. Maybe.

~*~

While driving, I was listening to classic country on WOLT-FM. And it struck me that the hopped-up young turks honking derisively at me are probably listening to evil, unAmerican, urban hip-hop, and wouldn't know good redneck music if it bit them in the ass. But isn't it interesting that these upwardly-mobile young people borrow the styles, cars, attitude, entertainments and music of the urban liberal classes, yet retain such backward politics? What's up with that? (More about this in an upcoming post I am working on, about the tea party and gay marriage.)

And right before the redneck honking commenced, I was listening to Jim Reeves, dubbed Gentleman Jim for whatever reason, whom my mother never liked. She didn't think "crooning" belonged in country music. Me neither, but when I hear his records now, I feel as old as God (in a good way) and can't turn them off. It's a particular type of music that has totally passed on, like Tin Pan Alley, British Invasion, Big Band... (sigh)

And this brings me to the end of my eventful journey today! I was going to... ugh... the doctor.

~*~

Mandatory yearly TMI segment, with gory medical details.

It's been awhile since we discussed gruesome medical procedures here at DEAD AIR. (Probably because I haven't been to the dentist since my horrific gum surgery.) Alas, just like our cars, bodily MAINTENANCE is often required, and today (TMI, turn back now) I had a sebaceous cyst removed by an earnest, young, bright-eyed dermatologist who duly outlined my "options" in cyst removal.

I wanted to tell him, dude, back in the day, doctors didn't bother to tell us squat, and just started to work. (And if you asked questions, they might even tell you to shut up until they were done.) Not these days... they have gotten the memo, and the bright-eyed young physicians want you to know things. They tell you all about your cysts. When I asked to look at it, he showed it to me. It looked like a large kernel of corn (exact shape of one!), but all bloody red. (It looked to have it's own blood supply, which is pretty Cronenbergian.) The procedure was called a PUNCH BIOPSY... you know, like a HOLE PUNCH on your job? Saints preserve us.

Do I really need to tell you WHERE this awful thing was located on my body? Yes, the worst place. Buried in cellulite, I am surprised he could find it at all. Lucky for me, it was all swelled up and BIG, so it probably called right out to him: HERE I AM, DOC! And he punched a hole, right in my ass.

Thinking idly about this, whilst the good doctor worked on my derriere, I thought of the movie line, "The Bailey family's been a boil on my neck long enough!"--growled out by the immortal Lionel Barrymore in IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE. Barrymore delivers the line perfectly, in his fabulous rumbling baritone, but I've often thought it could have been much improved if the word was ASS... The Bailey family's been a boil on my ass long enough!--but that was 1946, and you weren't allowed to jazz up a script in such a fashion. [3] But I would loved to have heard old Lionel snarl out that line instead.

And so, here I am, waiting for the butt-novacaine to wear off, at which time I likely WON'T be sitting on a hard chair. ;) I bought a Mocha Frappuccino to cheer me up while I wait!

Trying to finish a number of posts in the meantime. The great thing about finally having low blog stats again? I can write anything I want and nobody is reading... and I can add some classic country too!

Enjoy, you crazy kidz!

~*~

NOTES:

[1] As a redneck, I can use this word, but you can't.

[2] I know, I know, we are supposed to call it truTV now, but that sounds dorky and stupid, and I hereby refuse.

I always wonder who got paid (and how much?) to come up with something as thoroughly dopey as "truTV"? (Which tells you exactly nothing about the court system or what type of legal programming the network specializes in!)

I hope the people at (the former) Court TV, understand that they was had.

[3] I often think about old movies that bore such language restrictions, when the situation and characters cry out for some limited but pointed cussing. For instance, Jeffrey Hunter and John Wayne should have cussed each other out a bunch of times in THE SEARCHERS, but of course, that was 54 years ago and simply not done.

I find it fascinating that a profusion of nasty words like "half-breed" and other racial insults *were* allowable, while simply calling someone a self-absorbed asshole was not.

~*~

You younguns will recognize this song as the inspiration for the amusing HBO show, Eastbound and Down, but older folks still associate it with the 70s movie, Smokey and the Bandit. (And it's where we get today's blog post title.)

Eastbound and Down - Jerry Reed



~*~

I grew up with this song, since every country and western band, including my mother's, was required to learn it. Truck-drivers considered it THEIRS and requested it every night. I love how it illustrates a whole mythology/culture around truck-driving.

Recorded back in 1963, you'd never hear "I'm taking little white pills and my eyes are open wide" in a country song ever again...

Six Days on the Road - Dave Dudley



~*~

She's Got You - Patsy Cline



~*~

Before I'm Over You - Loretta Lynn



~*~

You MUST HEAR Loretta belt out "Mississippi MAAAAAAN" in this song. Legendarily-amazing pipes!

Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man - Loretta Lynn And Conway Twitty



~*~

Warren Beatty is from Virginia, and can be credited with helping to take bluegrass mainstream, using this traditional bluegrass song as the recurring theme in his movie, BONNIE AND CLYDE.

Foggy Mountain Breakdown - Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs w/the Foggy Mountain Boys

The murder of Martin Lee Anderson

You knew one of them would die eventually. As soon as the whole "boot camp movement" took off, you knew this was coming. I did, anyway.

I've been indulging my COURT TV addiction again, and pondering the "boot camp death" of 14-year-old Martin Lee Anderson, as we watch closing arguments.

Hovering over the case is the decreased value and humanity of young black males in our culture. Obviously, Martin was just bitching and complaining; ain't nothing wrong with him. The video, which I have seen over and over, is chilling. They didn't believe him; obviously, they thought he was just faking his respiratory distress. They stand there in the video like a bunch of fucking idiots: Duh!

All eight stand accused, of standing there like fools as Martin dies. What's that expression? Throw the book at them. It's just so horrifying, to work a child to death like a MULE.

Guard describes procedure used to subdue teen who died after altercation at boot camp
By Emanuella Grinberg
Court TV

PANAMA CITY, FL — A former drill instructor at a boot camp for juvenile offenders became emotional on the witness stand Monday as he recalled the only time one of his young charges died on his watch.

In more than 20 years of active service with the United States Army, retired Lt. Charles Helms Jr. said he never saw a soldier die under his command. But, as second in command at the Bay County Sheriff's Office Juvenile Boot Camp in Panama City, Fla., Helms was in the hospital with the parents of 14-year-old Martin Lee Anderson when they decided to take him off life support after an altercation with drill instructors the day before.

"This is a kid who came into our program in supposedly perfect condition, in perfect health," Helms testified. "I'm trying to figure out what in the heck is going on."

You don't know???? You people killed him, obviously.

Helms, 51, was the first of eight defendants expected to testify. All are charged with aggravated manslaughter for Anderson's death on Jan. 6, 2006. Prosecutors rested their case before Helms took the stand Monday.

Along with Helms, former drill instructors Henry Dickens, Charles Enfinger, Patrick Garrett, Raymond Hauck, Henry McFadden Jr., Joseph Walsh and nurse Kristin Schmidt face up to 30 years in prison if convicted of aggravated manslaughter for the teen's death.

Prosecutors allege the eight defendants caused Anderson's death by suffocating him and administering excessive amounts of ammonia capsules on him when he refused to participate in a mandatory run on his first day at the boot camp.

During the encounter, which was captured on surveillance camera footage, Helms and the drill instructors are seen covering Anderson's mouth and waving the ammonia capsules in his face while Schmidt stood by.

But lawyers for the defendants, ages 30 to 60, say they were acting in accordance with boot camp policy and blame his death on complications from sickle-cell trait, a typically benign genetic disorder which impedes the flow of oxygen through the blood.

Earlier in the day, prosecutors called the chief medical director of Florida's Department of Juvenile Justice, who testified there was no outlined procedure for the use of ammonia capsules in the boot camp's policy manual.

As the final witness in the prosecution's four-day case, Dr. Shairi Turner also testified that the department did not consider sickle-cell trait to be a condition that would automatically exclude juvenile offenders from participation in the program, like asthma or even sickle-cell disease, a more advanced form of sickle-cell trait.

Helms, however, insisted that, had his staff known of Anderson's condition, they would not have accepted him into the program, which opened in 1994 to rehabilitate serious juvenile offenders considered on a track to adult prison.

"The last thing we wanted was for any kid to come into boot camp with physical ailments that would cause him to injure himself," said Helms, who was a drill instructor at Kentucky's Fort Knox before he went to work at the Panama City boot camp.

Several jurors leaned forward as they listened to Helms describe the precautions that the staff took to ensure the safety of the offenders. He described screening them for medical issues before they entered the boot camp, and separating gang members and using plastic flatware once they entered the program.

Helms said Anderson, who entered the boot camp for violating probation on a grand theft auto conviction, received the highest security designation upon entering the boot camp based on a record of gang affiliation and a propensity for violence.

In light of his security designation, Helms said that guards took the typical course of action when Anderson told them, "This is bulls---," and stopped participating in a 1.5-mile run to gauge his fitness level.

Standing next to a video projection of the surveillance footage, Helms described for jurors the actions he took upon being called to the drill field about 20 minutes into the encounter.

When he arrived, Helms said, Anderson appeared to be conscious and actively resisting the drill instructors' attempts to get him on his feet. Helms said he eventually took over administering the ammonia capsules by "cupping" his hand over the teen's mouth so he could determine through the movements in his jaw whether he was conscious.

The retired Army lieutenant testified that the use of ammonia capsules on offenders was normal, especially on the first day, when the teens were likely to feign unconsciousness to get out of completing the 16-lap run.

Nearly four minutes into the encounter, Helms said, he realized something was amiss and asked Schmidt to take his vital signs. Even though Anderson's heartbeat and respiratory rates were normal, Helms said, they decided to call 911 when the teen became clammy and unresponsive.

"My hand is on his stomach. I'm shaking him back and forth. At this point, I go from drill instructor mode to rescue mode," testified Helms.

Helms accompanied the teen in an ambulance to the Bay County Medical Center, where, after two hours, doctors decided to airlift him to the pediatric intensive care unit in Pensacola's Sacred Heart Hospital.

Helms said he was not permitted to accompany the teen, so he made the two-hour trip by car to Pensacola, where he waited in the hospital with Anderson until his parents removed him from life support at about 2 a.m. the next morning.

"Why did you go?" Helms' lawyer, Waylon Graham, asked him.

"It's one of my kids. I'm responsible. I'm the officer in charge," Helms responded. "I've been in the military for a long period of time and you never leave one of your soldiers."

Helms was prevented from answering his lawyer's question about how the incident had affected him, but the answer was clear. He wiped tears with a handkerchief as he stepped down from the witness stand.

Crocodile tears, I think goes the expression.

----------------
Listening to: Yo La Tengo - Moby Octopad
via FoxyTunes

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

Yes, after a week went by, I knew. I grit my teeth; I cursed. I bayed at the moon. But I knew. And today, we found out for sure. The jury in the Phil Spector murder trial is at an impasse:

Jurors deadlocked in Phil Spector murder trial

LOS ANGELES (AFP) — Jurors in the murder trial of legendary music producer Phil Spector said Tuesday they were deadlocked, raising the possibility of a mistrial after a five-month-long court-room battle.

In a dramatic development at a packed Los Angeles Superior Court, jurors mulling murder charges against Spector said that after four ballots they were split 7-5, with no prospect of a breakthrough.

"At this time we don't believe that anything else will change the positions of the jurors based on the facts of the case," the jury foreman told Judge Larry Paul Fidler on the seventh day of deliberations.

Fidler later dismissed the jury for the day. They will return on Wednesday at 10:00 am after three members of the nine-man three-woman panel requested further instructions.

One woman juror said she wanted clarification on the difference between "doubt" and "reasonable doubt," although Fidler said later he doubted further instruction would help.

In a surprise development, Fidler said jurors may be asked to consider convicting Spector on involuntary manslaughter charges. He had earlier ruled that jurors would only be able to consider a second degree murder charge.

Fidler also dismissed a defense motion for the case to be declared a mistrial.

Spector, 67, who pioneered the "Wall of Sound" recording technique during the 1960s and is regarded as one of the most influential figures in rock-pop music history, is accused of gunning down B-movie actress Lana Clarkson at his castle-like home in February 2003.

Prosecutors allege that the reclusive Spector shot Clarkson in the head as she attempted to leave his home after meeting him for the first time only a few hours before in the Hollywood nightclub where she worked.

District attorney Alan Jackson said during the trial Spector had a "rich history of violence" against women, often flying into drunken, gun-toting rages whenever they tried to leave his company.

No fewer than five women acquaintances of Spector testified that the genius behind 1960s hits such as "Da Doo Ron Ron" and "You've Lost That Loving Feeling" threatened them with guns in incidents dating back to the 1970s.

Spector's former chauffeur also provided damaging evidence, telling jurors that on the night of the shooting his employer had emerged from a doorway clutching a pistol in a bloodied hand to say: "I think I killed somebody."

Defense lawyers argued however that Clarkson, famous for her role in Roger Corman's 1985 cult classic "The Barbarian Queen" but whose career had stalled at the time of her death, killed herself.

Kim at The Darwin Exception asks:

Well, we were kind of expecting this at this point, weren’t we?

Yes, I suppose so, but I am nonetheless sick over it.

Kim continues:

The judge says that he has been reviewing case law, and despite both sides agreement that this is an all or nothing case, he has found case law to support the fact that the judge has a sua sponte responsibility to instruct on manslaughter. He gives the attorneys the specific case cite “People Vs. Lee” 20 Cal 4th 47,and says that if the attorneys can’t convince him that he doesn’t have this sua sponte responsibility, then he will re-open arguments and instruct the jury on this charge.

The Lee case is a case wherein a husband shot his wife, and forensic examination showed it was a contact wound to the head, but no one witnessed the shooting. This case held that brandishing the weapon was an included and lesser offense, and that the judge had a sua sponte responsibility to instruct on the lesser.

The judge says that he wants both sides to look at this case and argue to him why or why not the judge should have a responsibility to re-open the case for argument wherein each side will argue the manslaughter charge to the jury. Voluntary manslaughter is “in the heat of the moment” or “in the heat of passion:” - that doesn’t fit this case at all. Involuntary manslaughter is killing without intent or malice - which, while both sides agreed that this didn’t apply, the judge is now reconsidering. Involuntary Manslaughter in California carries anywhere from a 3 -6 year sentence, and then there is the gun enhancement in this case, which would be additional time.

And then we get to the heart of so many jury problems these days:

[Juror] #9 says that it would be nice to know the difference between reasonable doubt and just doubt.

I am tempted to say: it is the difference between being an idiot, or not.

Is it really true, then, that in America, justice can be bought? Or at least postponed.

Mood: glum.

OJ Simpson committed a robbery??

Left: Yes, you know who it is.


I wish I had more info, but hey, I am just a COURT TV junkie like everyone else:

O.J. Simpson a suspect in Vegas hotel theft


By Ari B. Bloomekatz,
Los Angeles Times
10:32 AM PDT, September 14, 2007

O.J. Simpson is a suspect in a theft of sports memorabilia from a hotel room at Palace Station Hotel and Casino, police in Las Vegas said today.

"The investigation is ongoing, and O.J. Simpson is alleged to be the suspect," Las Vegas Police Sgt. John Loretto said by telephone.

The former football star was questioned and released, Loretto said. He was not arrested.

Yale L. Galanter, a Florida-based attorney for Simpson, did not return repeated calls this morning for comment.

The memorabilia were in a hotel room in the casino Thursday night, police spokesman Jose Montoya said. Loretto would not describe the memorabilia, including what sport was involved.

"When they talked to him, Simpson made the comment that he believed the memorabilia was his," the Associated Press quoted Montoya as saying. "We're getting conflicting stories from the two sides."

Police said "associates of Simpson" were also questioned, according to the AP.

Simpson's turmoil comes a day after the family of Ron Goldman published a book about the slayings of Goldman and Simpson's ex-wife, Nicole Brown Simpson. The two were killed in 1994 and Simpson was acquitted of criminal murder charges. He was found liable for their deaths in civil lawsuits.

The book was written by Simpson and originally titled "If I Did It," but after his publishing deals fell through, the Goldman family bought the rights to the book and subsequently published it under the new title "If I Did It: The Confessions of the Killer."

Simpson lives in Florida.

Las Vegas police scheduled a news conference for later today.

Watching that press conference now...OJ is cooperating. They have surveillance tapes and photos, but won't show them to us.

Stay tuned, sports fans!

Should polygamy be illegal?

Left: The cast of BIG LOVE, photo from HBO

Yes, yes, you are thinking Daisy has lost her mind, or at least misplaced her feminism. Nope, actually, I am watching the trial of sleazy Warren Jeffs, and considering his defense that this is a case of religious persecution. Is it? Well, duh, I'd say so, if polygamy is a tenet of his faith, and he is regarded as The Prophet. Polygamy is an undeniable, integral article of faith for the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. However, this is also about a minor girl marrying her cousin, under Jeffs' direction, without her consent. That is to say, this case is about rape.

If there were no abuses of minors, no coercion (and it's unclear how we might enforce this, of course), what exactly would be the problem? I would be rabid about the government NOT supporting all of these children, as in the case of Tom Green, who should have gone to jail for welfare fraud, in addition to his crime of marrying children.

But say the guy could afford it? Many can, particularly if the women start working also, as some apparently do. And let's say that everyone is of consenting age? What is the harm, exactly?

If we believe in separation of church and state, why are we legislating rules out of the Bible?

Let me make it clear that I think Jeffs is a scumbag, and no charmer like Bill Paxton on the popular HBO series about a polygamous family, BIG LOVE. However, polyamory in general has always interested me. What about a woman who wants several husbands? It could happen!

What about group marriages of several men and women (or gay/lesbian group marriage), as the legendary Kerista Commune attempted in the 70s and 80s? When we make equality of women a prerequisite, as the Keristans attempted to do (whether they were completely successful in this endeavor is another matter), polyamory (Keristans preferred the term polyfidelity, which I like better) might actually be an equalizer of men and women.

In the end, I just don't think the government should be telling people what to do in their personal lives, period. If they want 80 wives, not my call. If one of them is 14, well then, it is.

What do you think?

I met him on a Monday and my heart stood still...

Left: Phil Spector and his attorney, Linda Kenney Baden. Photo from Reuters.

Some wit over on Darwin Exception quoted Robert Duvall in APOCALYPSE NOW: You know, some day this trial is gonna end.

Since Wednesday, I've been listening to streaming videos of the closing arguments because I started flipping out every time COURT TV cut to a commercial: Don't interrupt Alan Jackson! (((shrieks!)))

And that's how you know you're an addict: GIVE ME MY CLOSING ARGUMENTS, NOW!!!!! (roller-derby blocking-elbow to anyone who tries to take the remote from me)

I start shaking and getting weak when I don't get my closing arguments.

Anyway, here is our hero Alan Jackson, courtesy of the redoubtable Kim, at the aforementioned Darwin Exception; she wonderfully titled her post He had me at "Don't Go!":

"Five months ago, you didn’t know the real Phil Spector - but things have changed. Now that you know who he is and what he is and what he does, and his violent history with women and guns, now that you know all this, let’s go back, outside of this courtroom, let’s move out to the parking lot, the parking lot adjacent to the House of Blues, the one you’ve seen so many photographs of, this parking lot. It’s February 3, 2003, it’s late at night, actually it’s early in the morning, it’s dark out.. The lot’s beginning to empty. Go with me to that location, mentally take yourselves with me to that location. The lot’s not full, the valets are starting to clean up for the night. And you see over towards the side a big shiny black Mercedes, and as you look to your left standing in that parking lot, you see Philip Spector emerge from the House of Blues, he’s wearing all black except for a big white jacket, it’s oversized, a little too big for him, too big on the shoulders, too long, sleeves too baggy, and he steps out of the House of Blues accompanied by a tall beautiful blonde with blonde ringlets. She’s taller than he is and she’s wearing an above the knee slip dress, a black jacket and she has a leopard skin purse slung over her right shoulder. As you stand in that parking lot think about where you are and what you’re seeing. As you stand in the parking lot you begin to hear them talk and you overhear their conversation, you can hear as Phil Spector begins to insist that Lana Clarkson come back to his castle. He tries to coax her back to the location. And you listen as she constantly says “no, thank you, no, I can’t go, I’ve got to work tomorrow, no thank you, but I can’t join you Mr. Spector” And you listen as he continues to try to lure her back to his castle. Back to the Alhambra castle. “Come back to my castle and see my castle.” And then, just then, you think you hear in her voice a little crack - she may begin to relent, she may actually accept his offer. You’re standing in that parking lot and you’re watching this conversation. Let me ask you a question. If you could say but one thing to Lana Clarkson right then, standing at the back of that Mercedes, in that parking lot, just one thing, you can say but one thing to her, one sentence, one phrase, even two little words, even if you had to whisper it, what would you say? Had I asked you that question 5 months ago, when you first walked into this courtroom, you couldn’t answer it, you’d shrug, and you’d say “I don’t know what I’d say to her”. But now that you know the real Phil Spector, now that you know who he is, and what he is, and what he does, what would you say? Even if you had to whisper it so he couldn’t hear, all of you, all 17 of you are thinking the same thing, you’d lean over and you’d whisper “don’t go”. Don’t go. You’d simply say “Lana, Don’t Go.” And the reason every one in this jury box thought the same thing, maybe the words a little bit different, but the thought was the same. The reason that you would say that is because you know something she didn’t know. You know the real Phil Spector. And if you thought to yourself “I’d tell her not to go” it’s because you know in your heart of hearts, after hearing all of this evidence, you know in your heart of hearts, he’s responsible for her death. He killed her."

And with that powerful little scenario we begin closing arguments.

Frankly, I think Alan Jackson could have sat down after that little speech. He had them at “Don’t Go.” Or at least he had me. I swear to God I got cold chills up and down my spine and my eyes welled up with tears when Jackson leaned over the jury box, put his hands up against his mouth and whispered “Don’t Go” - even though I was shouting at him the same two words two sentences before he got there.

Sure, there was more powerful argument later - the big red “X’s” he squeakily put through each item in the chart of “10 Reasons Science will Prove Lana Was Holding The Gun” Linda Kenney Baden had outlined in her opening statement, the picture flashed on the ELMO of Phil Spector standing pointing his finger like a gun with the words imposed in red underneath “I Think I Killed Somebody” (which Jackson opined could have been more frankly spoken as “I think I FINALLY killed somebody”), and the slap in the face to the entire defense team when he ended with the montage from “Lana Unleashed” of the Steely Dan song “Peg” playing “So won’t you smile for the camera, you know I love you better….” as Lana in her different costumes, roles and skits from the reel flashed on the screen, all with her brilliant smile and bright sparkling eyes. “That” Jackson told the jurors, “That was the real Lana Clarkson”. As opposed to what Jackson called the “Defense of Desperation” we had seen for the last four months, and the second murder of Lana Clarkson.

Lana's mother cried during the closing arguments. :(

I will NOT be quoting Linda Kenney-Baden's defense closing on behalf of Phil Spector. You will have to go to misogynist, evil, pro-Phil blogs for that. Or you can check out Kim's account, always readable, accurate, detailed, and thoroughly fun.

And now, we wait, with fingers crossed.

You know, someday this trial's gonna end.

Oh, how I miss Kato Kaelin...

Left: Punkin Irene Elizabeth Laughlin, aka Punkin Pie, from The Darwin Exception.

The Phil Spector murder trial is winding down, and I am meditating on the value of friendship. What do we do with "friends" who come out of the woodwork, during these bizarre Hollywood trials? Where do these people come from????

I am fascinated by the demolition of Punkin Pie, Lana Clarkson's supposedly "best" friend (again, remind me not to make friends like this, okay?), yesterday on the witness stand, during rebuttal.

I once endured a three-hour cross-examination, and held up remarkably well (let's hear it for ST JUDE!) and for this reason, I sometimes cringe when I watch COURT TV. I know how it feels to be sneered at by a lawyer, while they add to your words: IN YOUR OPINION!!! IN YOUR OPINION!!!! And what flits through your mind is odds and ends and wise-ass replies that must be suppressed at all cost. For example, when the attorney kept saying IN YOUR OPINION, Cheech Marin's voice kept bubbling up in my consciousness, asking Do you see anybody else up here, dude??

I didn't say it out loud, but the fact that it was right there behind my palate, ready to come out, has become part of my retelling of events. I often wonder if witnesses are blurting things out, like my Cheech and Chong remark, or if they are remembering similar funny things. Sometimes, you can see that they are concentrating on self-restraint, and I'd love to know what they are really thinking.

But with Pie, well, you just stare in amazement.

For those unaware, Pie is a traitor to her friend, and testified for the defense in the Phil Spector trial. She says Lana was seriously bummed and depressed, highlighting Lana's supposedly dejected and very negative mental state in her testimony. This account therefore bolsters the defense's proposition, that Lana Clarkson went to Phil Spector's house to shoot herself with Phil Spector's gun (which she didn't even know was there). This explains, of course, why she put her purse over her shoulder, since we know everyone puts a purse over their shoulder and sits in a stranger's foyer to commit suicide. (((sarcasm)))

Will the jury buy it?

Well, maybe. They have a battery of mercenaries, oops, I mean "experts", extremely well-paid by Spector the billionaire. And then, there is Pie.

After yesterday, I dunno, though. It was a beauty to behold. On a great blog titled The Darwin Exception ("because it's not always survival of the fittest, sometimes the idiots get through") there is blow-by-blow trial coverage, and slices of Pie (you knew I could not resist that metaphor!) are served up piping hot:

[Defense attorney Roger] Rosen then asks the Pie about the Christmas letter. He quotes her the line that was read to the jury by Nili Hudson that says “My Lana, my best friend, my right hand and my inseparable sister, was violently and abruptly taken from me at the hands of Phil Spector.” Rosen asks Pie what she meant by this statement.

Pie then comes out with one of the most insensible, rambling, lamest ass excuses I’ve ever heard in my life - and I had three kids who were forever giving me lame ass excuses. None of them came close to this pile of shit - and this bitch is an adult who should fucking know better.

Pie says that she included this line because she has friends “all over the world from all different walks of life” and she was explaining to them why they hadn’t heard from her, or gotten their cards and letters that she was normally so good at sending. Which you know, would explain why she would say “Well, Lana, my best friend and my soul sister and my right hand and my inseparable sidekick - DIED or PASSED AWAY or KICKED THE BUCKET” - that doesn’t explain why she would include the editorialization of “At the hands of Phil Spector!” I mean, does it? Does that explain it? No - I don’t think so.

Then she tells us “I wanted to BROADLY explain why they hadn’t heard from me…:” BROADLY??? Who the fuck does this bitch think she’s fooling? Broadly would be “my friend died” - that’s broadly. NAMING THE PERP is not BROADLY.

I can’t even believe Rosen is believing this pile of shit. Even he has to realize this is NOT an explanation for what she said - it makes no fucking sense.

She continues (believe it or not), and says “The reason I put it that way was because I was trying not to describe it one way or another as to what happened - because no one knows what happened” (Ummmm….Pie, Phil Spector knows, now doesn’t he?), and some people would know about it and some had no idea. I was trying to be politically correct by not saying too much - I was trying to keep it simple.”

Which is completely and utterly diametrically opposed to what she put it in her Christmas letter - she wasn’t “simple”, she wasn’t “not describing it one way or another” she says Lana died at the hands of another - that’s not “not describing it one way or another.” I think that’s making a pretty clear fucking stand on what you think happened, right?

Who the fuck prepared this witness and agreed to let her get on the stand and say this shit? It makes her look like a fucking moron. And it’s insulting to the jury that she thinks this is a reasonable explanation. If *I* was her - I would have said something halfway fucking credible like “Oh, at this point I was still going through the stages of grief, and when I wrote this letter I was up to “blame” and I was blaming Phil Spector, and wrote this. Of course, as I moved through the stages I realized that this was just my grief speaking, and he wasn’t the only one I blamed during that period - I blamed myself, I blamed her mother, I blamed her other friends - it was just where I was at emotionally, at that time. I no longer blame him and realize that Lana had her own demons and that as hard as it is to accept, that she took her own life, and Mr. Spector had nothing to do with it. But that was then and this is now…”

Anything other than this incredible unbelievable poo she’s slinging from the stand. “Oh I said “Lana died at violently and abruptly at the hands of Phil Spector” - because I was just trying to keep it broad and vague out of respect for the family, because they were recipients of the letter, too. You know, not saying anything one way or the other, mind you. Just keeping it all ginger like and conscious of the family and our mutual friends.” What the fuck?

I swear to God, if any of my friends ever commits suicide, I’m going to send out a Christmas letter, and just out of respect for the family, and to keep it really BROAD and not inject my opinion into it anywhere, I’m just going to say in my letter “My friend was violently and abruptly taken from me at the hands of Tom Hanks.” I mean, you can’t really read anything into that, right - it doesn’t really MEAN anything, just that I’m being vague - since no one knows what happened.

She’s a fucking maroon if I’ve ever seen one.

Dixon gets up to cross examine and he points out that one of the dates in Pie’s date book says that Lana was with her on 1/17/2002 at the Cat Club - just three weeks after her injury to her wrists. He asks if Lana went out partying with that medical apparatus thing on her injuries - the “halo” appliance, and Pie seems to think “Sure! Not a problem”.

He also points out that Pie has no actual recollection of any of these events - can’t remember the venues or the dates or the events other than from reading her notes in her date book. She can’t remember where, exactly, the Bad Company concert was, for instance, just that it was “somewhere in Orange County”.

Dixon then asks when she sent out these Christmas letters, and how many people received them, and she says that she assumes they were sent sometime in December, but that sometimes she didn’t get around to it until January or even March, and that because of everything going on, she was late that year getting the letters out, but it was probably sometime around the New Year. She says that she sends them to like 100 of her closest friends.

Dixon then gets specifically to the last line of the letter, and says “OK - you described this as you being political correct?” Yes. “As not describing one way or another how you felt?” Yes. “as not giving an opinion?” Yes. “But you say that Lana was violently and abruptly taken from you at the hands of Phil Spector! Isn’t that a distinct opinion?”

“No, that was just my way of saying what the situation was.”

“But you could have said that she simply passed away - or even that she passed away at his house…:”

“Yeah, I could have…”:

“Yet you say that she was abruptly taken away at the hands of Phil Spector - that’s an opinion, isn’t it?”

“That was my way of describing the situation.”

“You denied seeing Rick Brody at Ann Marie’s wedding and telling him that you hoped that they would “fry the bastard” when talking about Phil Spector - you said that that was something you would never say, because you didn’t believe it, but isn’t that basically what you said here - that in your opinion, she died at the hands of Phil Spector - and isn’t that what you told to 100 of your closest friends and acquaintances in your Christmas letter?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, isn’t that what you believed in December of 2003, that your best friend died at the hands of Phil Spector?”

“No, I didn’t believe that.”

“And when you talked to Officer Tomlin, the day that she died, you said that she was never suicidal and never depressed you told him the truth, didn’t you?”

“Because someone told me to say that.”

“Well, who told you to say this in the letter?’

“I didn’t want to hurt people”.

“Who? Was Phil Spector on your mailing list?”

I laughed really hard at that, by the way.

Rosen gets up to redirect and really, he can’t do anything to make anything Pie says sound any more believable, because no one is buying the shit she is trying to sell. It’s just not a saleable product. And all the “Oh, you were trying to encompass the whole situation weren’t you?” “You were trying to be sensitive to the family, right?” that Rosen tries to polish the turd with just makes it sound all the more fucking stupid.

She is finally excused. But she isn’t excused from making me have to listen to her lame ass excuse. My kids really were coming up with better ones than that when they were 10.

Tee hee!

Well, it's nice to see her finally get it, but is it enough to convince the jury that she is not to be believed?

Stay tuned, sports fans!

The Whore Defense

Apparently, a Hollywood Madam named Baby Doll Gibson is testifying for the defense in the Phil Spector murder trial. Why? Well, she is going to testify that the victim, actress Lana Clarkson, once worked for her.

Umm, so?

Is this supposed to justify the murder?

What possible importance could it have?

Ah, they are going to say this means she was of course suicidal, and therefore decided to go to Spector's house with him and shoot herself at 5am.

Right.

Obviously, they believe this fact will smear the victim and make her somehow less human. No big deal if a famous record producer shoots a common whore, now is it? We're all guys here, we'd been drinking, she wouldn't put out, and well--you know how it goes.

The Botoxing of America's Older Women

Watching Laura Linney in BREACH the other night, I wondered how someone could become so suspicious and agitated, while never actually frowning or even appearing particularly pensive. Then it occurred to me: this is yet another example of the rampant mass-botoxing of America's older women. The utter lack of facial expression due to botox injections. This is not the freaked-out Laura Linney of MOTHMAN PROPHECIES or the angry-lawyer Laura Linney of PRIMAL FEAR. This is neutralized Laura Linney, middle-aged botox recipient.

Another middle-aged woman, rendered placid and blank. She can join the army of older women lawyer-commentators on COURT TV, as well as Holly Hunter, looking all wide-eyed and unemotional in the advertisements for her new TV show.

This chemically-induced placid expression on the faces of middle-aged women is now all over TV and movies. Older women can no longer frown in skepticism, suspicion, disapproval, or even in deep thought. And it is at precisely this stage of our lives that we are finally unafraid of registering these emotions, and feel we have earned the right to analyze and to draw our own conclusions. But those wrinkles, those frown lines, those lines that signal THINKING, are being paralyzed with botulism toxin, an actual poison.

Women's intellectual process and deep thinking, as well as any contrary emotions are simply unacceptable, particularly from older women who have been around long enough to know the score. Any sign of this must be exterminated, at least in our common culture.

At present, I am watching the Phil Spector murder trial on COURT TV, as Linda Kenney Baden, botoxed Hollywood defense lawyer, cross-examines middle-aged, un-botoxed civil servant Dr. Lynne Herold, criminalist. Baden looks unruffled and cool, her unlined and blank face like a department-store mannequin's, while Herold unavoidably looks aggravated (in comparison), as she furrows her menopausal brow, trying to think, remember and correctly answer a barrage of scientific questions. Will the jury think the prettier person with the unlined and unemotional face is the one to trust? Obviously, this is the intention of the Spector-defense team.

Middle-aged women who show emotion are being systematically censored from our public media-consciousness, just as we reach that age in which we are finally able to show our emotions without fear of censure.