"My job -- as I see it -- is to change enough minds at the grass-roots level so that whoever is elected will make this the No. 1 issue. There are still 500 days between now and the election, and so I'm gonna concentrate on making sure that whoever the nominees are and whoever is elected will make this the top priority."--Al Gore on global warming

The top priority? Call this predictable coming from one of those purported to be leaning to the right, but “the top priority?”

Is this guy fu>ked in the head, or what?

The broad-minded humanitarian left keep telling us that millions are starving to death. They remind us that millions are dying of AIDS. They inform us that still countless millions do not have access to safe drinking water. They decry the fact that malaria has made a pronounced comeback and is again killing millions. (Thanks entirety to Silent Spring.) They wear their compassion on their sleeves for the millions trapped in the world’s many war zones. They assert that millions of American children go without breakfast and lunch and dinner, and do not have access to a quality education.

So what of them all of a sudden?

Sorry, but anti-capitalism is the religion du jour these days. Suck it up and take it like an effeminate man. We’ll get back to you just as soon as we do away with Mark’s car, Mark’s job and Mark’s disposable income and have him living in a dung-powered grass hut.

As for Live Earth itself, it was, as concerts go, boring. Somebody on the internet referred to it as “global yawning,” which it was. More like, global blah-blahing it was. That is to say, if the result was a collective yawn, then the cause was the relentless blah, blah, blahing. It was undermined by under-whelming ticket sales. Due to a lack of interest, some venues had to be changed, one event was cancelled outright and many of the seats in the far-flung stadiums where it was staged were filled through promotional giveaways. For those of you on the left, that would be free tickets. You know, free. The staple of all things progressive. Um, all things income redistribution. All things inherently counterproductive.

During a studio segment, some guy was pitching bicycles made from recycled tofu, or some such ridiculous thing. As if, after Al Gore’s self-aggrandizing version of Woodstock (Not!), everyone the entire Earth over would suddenly turn their automobiles into storage sheds and commute by bicycle from here on out. That’s as ludicrous as it is a waste of perfectly usable hot air. A “Yeah, that’ll frickin’ happen!” moment. Bicycles? Get real.

The musical acts were half-decent, but their performances were not necessarily riveting. In fact, they were uninspired, uninspiring, and they quickly got me to wondering why. I mean, if the Earth is but five years from damn near total destruction, why the humdrum, going through the motions three chord progressions? Why the clear lack of emotion? Why no getting the phlegm up? No seminal moments. No awe-inspiring images sure to be replayed down through the ages. In my mind, we were treated to the usual fairground circuit performances sprinkled with some faux-concern when you consider that a bunch of washed-up musical acts were being offered a worldwide audience.

So, in the end, everybody repacked the chartered buses, the chartered jets, the chartered helicopters and went home. And every one of them would freak out if they arrived back at home only to find the central air on the fritz.

The two-faced concert-goers and the sanctimonious concert promoters, with a beer in one hand and a hamburger in the other, dissimulated the sketchy “facts,” preached at me about how to better live my new life in a cave and demonstrated to me how completely easy it is to take one’s world view and beat it over everyone else’s head until they finally get with the unsubstantiated program.

Crappola, I think they call it.

And what are the Democrats proposing to slow the supposedly frightening advance of global warming?

Why, tax it, of course.

There is a perfidiousness to this entire cult-like movement that cannot, and should not be denied no matter what your political orthodoxy. If the entire Earth is really set to overheat anytime soon, I say we have Reverend Al Gore get on with the dispensing of the holy purple Kool-Aid right away. Sugar-free, that is.

I think it’s probably long overdue.

I see the radio talk show hosts and some local internet pundits are filled with glee with the news that the DA’s office was forced to drop homicide and other related charges against two illegal immigrants accused of shooting a Hazleton man to death last year.

It goes like this: Lou Barletta is a Republican and it is rumored he has designs on some higher office. So, he needs to be attacked, savaged at every turn. He cannot be allowed to garner support and then knock off our ineffective Democrat congressman, Paul Kanjorski. Nope, law and order places a distant second to hapless partisanship.

People, when your party wins in the short run, but the country loses in the long run, what is there really to celebrate? When you are in a celebratory mood after two murderers of any stripe are allowed to walk, you’re not a part of the solution, you’re a major part of the beginning of the end.

From The Standard-Speaker:

“I have no idea why (Cabrera and Romero) shot Derek Kichline, but I know one of them is the shooter,” Vough said. “We just can’t physically prove that.”

Now, I know the left-leaning cannot and will not debate the illegal immigration issue. No, these days, you’re either all-inclusive no matter what, or you’re labeled a racist, bigot and suchlike. No debate is allowed, only name-calling. You’re either willing to bend over and grab them, or you’re a hateful bastard on par with every member of Hitler’s vicious inner circle. But I have an eye-popping newsflash for those of you so easily-led, so easily-duped and so intellectually threadbare; that’s poppycock.

I see this particular murder case not as a loss for Lou Barletta, but a loss for every single one of us. After committing a murder, if all that the illegal aliens have to do is lie, obfuscate, stonewall and recant their testimony and have it result in a deportation, not a one of us worthless gringos will be safe when we happen to arrive at the wrong place at the wrong time.

So, laugh at Lou Barletta, mock his supporters far and wide, be confident in your self-awarded superiority, embrace the newest on the block with open arms and then cross your fingers, toes, ponytails, love beads and roach clips. And with any luck at all, you won’t get shot to death. Because if it’s his completely easy to beat a murder rap in Amerika, murder rates are destined to soar.

Yuk it up, dummies.

More positive news for Wilkes-Barre.

Vonderheid said he expects in the next two weeks to announce a developer for residential quarters on the upper floors of the theater block. He described the firm as “an experienced loft developer with experience in small cities in Pennsylvania.” Also, the chamber has received a letter of intent for development of a restaurant in a 5,000- square-foot space next to the movie entrance. Vonderheid said the potential tenant is someone with local restaurant experience who could have the spot ready to open within four to six months.

Don’t worry, Steve “I am a Mexican!” Corbett will find a way to paint that as bad news. Hmmm…two stabbings in Scranton in recent days. He’ll certainly gloss right over that.

WILKES-BARRE – It's just after noon and Mark Cour has newspapers strewn on the floor around his bare feet. There's an ashtray full of cigarette butts near his computer monitor and a can of Genny Light beer set on a coaster.

Bloggers have been called the pajama media – lobbing opinions into the blogosphere from their living rooms doesn't necessarily require a person to put on pants.

Cour, in fitting fashion, is wearing a black tank top and what appear to be boxer shorts.

That’s what annoyed wifey to no end. But what got me annoyed was the following:

A moustache and glasses cover much of his face, and Cour is jumpy, even in his own living room. Yet he exudes an intelligence and an unshakable sense that he knows what's going on and he knows exactly what he thinks about it.

Trust me, our conservation was very technical in nature. It had a lot to do with where the city’s finances actually come from, which ones can be used for this, and which ones cannot. I was spouting off with oodles and oodles specific information that only a handful of our residents are privy to, or even care to know about. And what did that add up to? He seems to believe he knows what he’s talking about?

Whatever.

Truth be told, I write drunk, naked and with under-aged girls sitting on my lap.

Now we know.

I think that one speaks for itself.

And I wholeheartedly agree.

Pics, people.

Send them along.

M.E. Space, you gettin’ this?

Yeah, but Bush ate my children!

I see my partner in electronic crime thinks I’m, as he put it, “losing his enthusiasm” for writing on the internet. Well, that’s a part of it, I suppose.

They call me a blogger, but bloggers typically blog in increments of a hundred words or so, if that. My site is much more freestyle than that, and always has been. When I fire-up the processor, 2,000, 3,000 and sometimes 4,000 words quickly follow. I’ve considered switching to a “blogging for dummies” format, in which fifty words, a cut, copy and paste, plus a single picture counts as a post. But, for whatever reason, that doesn’t appeal to me. And if I did switch formats, I seriously doubt that I could limit myself to that, so a page per post would likely result. And that’s what I’m doing now, a page for every post.

Other reasons for my lack of prolificacy of late are my job, my contentment with the way things are going in my city and the recent passing of my brother. Where I’ve been is, would I rather spend time with the people on the internet, or the people that comprise my immediate family?

Sorry, but you folks on the internet come in a distant second. Which doesn’t mean I don’t love you all, albeit, in a different way. It’s just that life’s too short to be ranting, railing and venting all the time.

When I’ve got something to say, I’ll let ‘er rip. It’s just that I’m not going out of my way to find something to say.

With that said, if anyone wants to post their thoughts here, even a lengthy what have you, send them along with a real name and a valid e-mail address.

Later