This Post Is Not About Samuel Alito's Nomination. I'm Just Concerned.

I promise. No links, either, so if you're looking for a portal to interesting reading on a variety of subjects, you might look elsewhere. All I've got right now are opinions.

I just wanted to drop in and say that I'm concerned. What about, you ask? Everything.

I'm concerned about why I can't reconcile my distaste for President Bush's wire-tapping practices on the one hand with my almost fervent desire that we catch terrorists in this country on the other.

I'm concerned about my inability to center in my mind a position regarding "torture" of prisoners of war. What's the definition of "torture," anyway? Certainly it's important to have a solid definition of "torture" before a debate on whether or not it should be allowed, right? Maybe not. Maybe the word itself is bad enough. Must be.

But that's not all I'm concerned about.

I'm concerned that a fella (James Frey) who writes a book, ostensibly about his life, and is then called on the carpet for making much of it up, can continue to gain the support of our reigning Queen of the talk shows. Oprah, in case you were wondering.

I'm concerned that the Supreme Court has decided not to decide, yet again, a "controversial abortion case" regarding a New Hampshire law. I'm reminded of a line from a Rush song. "If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice." So, I guess I'm concerned that they made the same choice as usual. Oh well.

On a related note, I'm still concerned regarding why, if we have the right to privacy (which includes a woman's right to decide what to do with her own body), I can't sell one of my kidneys to someone in order to send my kids to college. Bad comparison? Maybe so, but it's worth thinking about. And I'll pre-emptively defuse all the possible comments by agreeing that selling my brain may be a better deal for me (but not the other guy).

I'm concerned that, since Hollywood has suffered tremendous flops at the box-office over the past year, they're no longer going to make movies for regular folks any more. Instead, we'll get movies about transsexuals (Transamerica) and gay cowboys (Brokeback Mountain). It's great, I suppose, if you're a transsexual or a gay cowboy. I'm neither, so the only movies I've gotten to watch lately were the mind-numbing remake of War of the Worlds and the impossibly rushed 4th installment of the Harry Potter series. Hollywood's making movies for Hollywood now. I don't necessarily begrudge them the (yet to be adjudicated) Constitutional right to choose what incredibly boring subject they will film. Just take the awards shows off the air so I can watch more reality TV.


Boy, that last one was long. Shorter now:

I'm concerned that the "Culture of Corruption" will decide that I'm a likely target for corrupting, or exercising corruption against.

I'm concerned that the House of Representatives will expand their "Plantation"-like way of governing into the public sphere. I've no desire to serve at some old white guy's table.

I'm concerned that a large portion of the residents of Houston ("America's Fattest City") will think Ray Nagin wasn't kidding when he promised that New Orleans would be a chocolate city.

I'm concerned that someday the supermarket check-out line won't have anything colorful to say about Brad, Jen, Angelina, etc. (There you go, Brent)

I'm concerned that this year's Superbowl will witness the first halftime fall-and-break-a-bone, as Mick Jagger shakes his last with the hips God (or whatever deity he professes faith in) gave him.



Not concerned about the Alito nomination, though. No, sir.

After all, if the Democrats really wanted him out bad enough, they'd just have Teddy invite him to lunch.

"C'mon, Sam. I'm drivin'"