Tell me, who’s ‘flip-flopping’ now?

In 1999, then-Governor of Texas George W. Bush signed into law 76(R) SB 1260 – an amendment known as the "Texas Futile Care Law." This would permit hospitals to cease providing life support for those unable to pay, if the hospital decides their chance of recovery is nil.

And in 2005, the same man who'd later become president and ignore the details of a certain August 2001 memo while on vacation back at the ranch would ceremoniously fly from Crawford to Washington to drum the emergency Congressional Terri Schiavo bill into law.

Can you say photo-oppin', flip-floppin' phony?

Now I know both the Florida and U.S. Supreme Courts have ordered that Terri Schiavo's feeding tube not be re-inserted, but now Jeb Bush is in on the action. I guess we'll just see what happens next, but in the meantime, Christ already - can the Schiavo and Schindler families please have some dignity, peace and bloody quiet?


And a post-script to Tuesday's entry about Tom DeLay: To the rest of the world, please accept my most profuse and sincere apologies about the existence of this man. I know I'm personally not to blame, but for those of you who think Texas is full of Jeezbots and pricks, trust me - those of us not responsible and embarrassed beyond words are just as horrified as you are that this “Passion”-invoking, parasitic dickweed is manipulating minds and feasting on the blood of people who should know better. But no, Tom DeLay’s not from Texas. Really. He’s just pretending to be from here. He’s actually an angry cockroach whose ghost came back to haunt and take over the very soul and being of some former exterminator from Houston.

Would someone please tell Tom De Lay to get bent?

Seriously. This man is a menace to democracy and must be stopped, or at least frog-marched out of the House and taken out back where some honest-to-goodness Texas wranglers are standing by to beat the crap out of him. How convenient that the Terri Schiavo case came along just in time to eclipse the fact that he's under investigation for illegal fundraising tactics and other ethical blunders!

Calexico tickles the soul

Seriously. The Power of Porter Wagoner compelled me to go down swingin' today and pop into Tower Records to snap up the 4 Calexico CD's they had in stock: Convict Pool, Even My Sure Things Fall Through, Black Light, and Feast of Wire. This was a split-second decision, made at 30 mph with seconds to go before the required turn with no oncoming traffic.

It was meant to be.

Like Clapton's Crossroads, the Box of Bongwater, and Q, the Quincy Jones box set, the Calexico catalogue is a worthy investment. And hey, while my Calexico collection isn't quite complete, at least there's the new Los Super 7 album, Heard It on the X, keeping me in that heightened state of holy shit! did you hear that? This is pure, pinche goodness, my friend. Everyone on it - including Burns, Convertino & Co., Freddy Fender, Raul Malo, Lyle Lovett, Joe Ely, Delbert McClinton, Rodney Crowell, Clarence 'Gatemouth' Brown - just smokes, and Charlie Sexton has the magic touch, production-wise. Holy Keerist.

Now, when you get around to hearing this, make sure that when you get to Rick Trevino singing "Ojitos Traidores," turn up the volume, shake your ass like there's no tomorrow, and trip on that trumpet solo by Jacob Valenzuela.

Are you with me, baby?

Rapewagon's Songs From a Ruined Childhood (and a Secret Signal for the Secret Service?)

Back in the daze when Danny and I were quite besotted with and inspired by the band Bongwater, the brainchild of the lovely Ann Magnuson and Kramer, we came up with a concept group of our own: Rapewagon. The name, if my memory serves me correctly, was from Danny’s dictionary of slang, and simply another name for “pimp mobile.” Game, set, and match – we’d found our moniker.

But alas, neither of us possessed any musical ability. We did have a repertoire of some fabulously questionable songs running rampant through our heads, and some of it was probably written down for posterity, but someday Danny and I will get rich so we can pull a marauding band of musicians together to pull off our most demented musical aspirations.

Until then, we’re stuck with our ideas for concept albums. Today’s theme comes courtesy of Danny: Rapewagon's Songs From A Ruined Childhood, twisted covers of the most vile 70's and early 80's tunes that haunted our youth.

Everyone Is Beautiful
Alone Again, Naturally
On Top Of The World
You Light Up My Life
Cats In The Cradle
You Needed Me (or really anything by Anne Fuckin' Murray)
Touch Me In The Morning
Don't Cry Out Loud
Yes, I'm Ready ("Are you ready?" "Yes, I'm ready.")
Time In A Bottle
Keep On Loving You
Baby, What A Big Surprise
Believe It Or Not (Greatest American Hero Theme)

...and other cringe-worthy pieces of piss from artists including Air Supply, Kenny Loggins, Phil Collins, Neil Diamond, Bob Seger, Seals and Crofts, John Denver, Bread, Harry Chapin, Nilsson, Dan Fogelberg, The Eagles, and Christopher Cross.

Are you ready to slit your wrists yet?

Speaking of which, ask Danny or Luke to tell you about The Suicide Channel if you ever get the chance. I truly believe they could sell this as a spin-off idea to some cable network someday - maybe it could be a sister station to WE or Lifetime? We're talking daily offerings of "M*A*S*H," "Taxi," "Chico and The Man," "Fish," and other misery-ridden faves here. Who could pass that up?

In other news, we're having the president of ********** on the talk show next week, so the Secret Service came in yesterday to do a site survey for security - and then earlier this afternoon, I had to sign a document with my Social Security number so they could do a background check on me (and everybody else in our department) before air time. Had I not consented, they would've had to drag someone else in to run the show. Guess I'll find out by then whether or not I'm on any government shit-lists.

Of course, being fan of Scorsese's "Taxi Driver," this whole Secret Service drama has put me in a Travis Bickle-as-social-goofball mode - I can't stop myself from going up my boss and others in the department and asking cheekily, in my best Robert De Niro, "A secret signal for the Secret Service?"

So in honor of this moment, here's a great time-waster if you're bored - "Taxi Driver" trivia from IMDB:

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0075314/trivia

I can't believe one of the studios wanted Neil Diamond in the lead role!!! Holy Jeezus Palomino. That would've been just a bit too much for me. What was Martin Scorsese's reaction when that was thrown out into the vapors? Oh, to have been a fly on the wall...

Speaking of Scorsese, here's a belated congratulations to Thelma Schoonmaker for snagging the Best Editor Oscar for "The Aviator." I was shocked to learn she only has two Oscars to her name now - what has the Academy been smoking all this time, may I ask? She's the high priestess of the cutting room, for chrissakes. You know she edited part of "Woodstock" (was it the Alvin Lee segment?) and was married to Michael Powell, right? He was the fabulously underrated director of "Peeping Tom," "The Red Shoes," and "The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp." And while my Brit-Film class instructor back in college was a vodka-drenched control freak - I'll always be grateful to him for introducing me to the works of Michael Powell.

Speaking of giving thanks for all that is fan-bloody-tastic with this world, Buzzcocks' very own Steve Diggle has a new album out, Serious Contender. Check it out:

http://www.stevediggle.co.uk/

Also in the works: re-releases of Pete Shelley's Homosapien and XL1, I understand.

And finally, some sad news to report, I'm afraid: Martin Denny, who along with Esquivel and Lex Baxter brought exotica to the attention of the music-loving public in the 50's and 60's, died Wednesday at his home in Hawaii at the age of 93. Today's piece in the Honolulu Advertiser says he'd been active and had even made a few performances not long before he passed away. Bless.

I think some Blue Hawaiians are definitely in order. RIP, Martin Denny.