"Sisters. Sisters. There were never such devoted sisters."

Today I binge-watched The Brontes of Haworth, a 1973 mini-series about, who else?, the Bronte Sisters. While I found it entertaining and informative, it was hardly riveting since it was so dark and episodic. Most interesting was seeing,  as Branwell Bronte, a young Michael Kitchen, who was, to me, completely unrecognizable as the same person who stars in Foyle's War.  While all the Bronte's were a little odd, Branwell was a neurotic wreck. Arrogant and brilliant in his youth, he became a complete loser as an adult, wasting every opportunity for success, embracing laziness and becoming addicted to alcohol, opium, and his own fantasies of fame. He was such a mediocre painter that this series didn't even show his actual portrait of his three surviving sisters, but a far better replacement. And what sisters they were. All three were incredibly prolific writers,  especially Emily and Charlotte, both of whom wrote novels that still enjoy world-wide popularity. There was a particularly annoying error in this mini-series, which is always done incorrectly with dramas in which hopeful authors receive rejections. It is that the manuscript, being returned, had far too few pages. Manuscripts of novels, especially hand-written ones at that time, would practically require a crate to contain them, and not the lightweight envelope so often shown to arrive from the publisher.

Note: While Branwell Bronte was not as pathetically untalented an artist as, say, George Bush, his paintings were hardly National Gallery material. He originally had included himself in this group
portrait, but later effected his removal.

False advertising stinks.

At Target today I bought a product called OXY-FAST. It's a stain and odor remover that claims its "Oxygen power makes stains and odors completely disappear." Naturally it does no such thing." But I was willing to once again fall for a completely false claim since I have a cat who sprays and I don't plan to give him up. OXY-FAST had no effect of course, which makes me really miss the days when there actually was truth in advertising. Now it seems anyone can claim anything with impunity. "Lose 10 pounds in 3 days!" "Never buy a battery again." "Improves brain function in just one week." There are lots of frauds, but odor-removal seems to be one of the winning scams. The most successful of the  deceitful scams is febreze. It doesn't do anything it promises other that to provide a temporary masking scent like any past room deodorizer, yet it sells like crazy because of clever packaging and wildly deceptive commercials. All these hucksters, all these thieves, all these con artists are rolling in money for one simple reason: We Americans are hopeless optimists.

"I had some people over. You don't know them."

Tonight, while watching Episode #7 of The Slap (Australian version) I realized one of the saddest things about society today. We are all watching different TV shows at the same time, assuming that
so many of us spend our evenings watching television.  So the next day we have nothing to discuss, no opinions to share. When I was growing up in the 50s and early 60s there were three networks so everybody watched such programming as the The Ed Sullivan Show, I Love Lucy, and The Gary Moore Show, etc. depending on the year. The next day you shared a laugh about Lucy and Ethel's latest dilemma, or Carol Burnett's comic routine. Tomorrow nobody I know will have been watching The Slap. And I will probably not have seen anything they watched. And if someone does watch it two weeks from now, I will have moved on to something else and not interested in discussing Rosie's neurotic obsessions or Hector's infidelity. In fact, none of my friends watch any of the programs I watch, which is very frustrating when you want to discuss a character's behavior or how brilliant some actors are.  I wonder what effect these endlesss unshared evenings have on all our relationship. And I wonder how much alike we all were when almost every night of the week we shared the same experience. Hmmm.

How I wish it were true.

They say that "One man's meat is another man's poison." That certainly is true in popular music. If you want to torment me all you have to do is play a song called "This Girl is On Fire." sung by Alicia Keys. I marvel that she is any kind of pop star at all since I find her voice strident, abrasive, and without any redeeming talent. The song itself, like so many of today's songs, is a series of meaningless repetitions,
stridently recorded in a way to remove any kind of human quality. Now I appreciate that this is possibly the only song of hers that I would find so ear-annoying offensive, but I doubt it. Yet I suppose there are millions of people out there that will sing along with this waterboard of a song  and call it music. Like I said, "One man's meat...".

Patient or patsy?

Why is there so much Medicare fraud? Obviously because there are thousands of amoral thieves out there who, not wanting to work for a living, have created a scam to bilk Medicare out of millions. But also because Medicare and other health providers are not diligent in weeding out these frauds and, without expressing any suspicions, pay these fraudulent invoices. Recently a friend's father, who is 99 years old, ordered a back brace by mail. It was called a Body Jacket Type and was ordered from Dependable Diabetic Supply of Venice, Florida.  Basically it was just that: a jacket, made to look somewhat therapeutic with various Velcro straps and snaps. Any intelligent person on seeing this mediocre garment would value it at about  $25.00 if anything at all. But no. The company billed Medicare for $1,310.00 of which Medicare, without question, paid $1,048.00. Equally without suspicion, the senior gentleman's health plan paid the remaining $262.00. Thus both these health services casually allowed these scammers to walk away with $1,310 for an essentially worthless item. So, yes, we have to crack down on these criminals, but to do that we have to make sure our state and federal Medicare providers start questioning every invoice and stop paying what are obviously excessive and suspicious charges.

Note: Since I posted this still more Medicaid fraud was exposed. They have just revealed that Medicare has paid $60 billion in claims that were never really check, sending the unchecked checks to questionable addresses, including post office boxes. It's amazing how many of our government agencies are completely incompetent.

A reason to be proud.

Political correctness is getting completely out of hand. It was fine when we accepted that certain words were offensive and therefore taboo. It was an easy transition to call handicapped people challenged and residents of shelters guests.  Yes, the Confederate flag should come down, but everyone who reveres and admires it isn't a racist and really do we have to stop running the non-racist The Dukes of Hazard because some set designer foolishly painted the flag on a car to reflect Southern jingoism? Not only are we liberals going overboard with all these rules of behavior and language, but we are endangering what we value most, or once did, freedom of speech.  The list of what were are not allowed to say or think grows longer every day. And now it is leading to even scarier behavior. If you read the news today, lots of people seem to want to shut Donald Trump up completely and make him apologize for every inappropriate thing he says.  I call that scary, Yes Trump is boorish, loud, ignorant, insulting, offensive and comical. He is also an American and entitled to free speech just like the rest of us. So instead of being outraged at whatever comes out of Donald Trumps mouth, we should be thinking, "Isn't American great."

Today's Top Non-story.

The lazy news media did something really stupid this week. In an attempt to shame Trump for his derogatory remarks about McCain, they spent valuable news time on all the networks comparing McCain's service to his country to Trump's deferments and lack of military service. Duh. What an idiotic and unnecessary report. This is a story that could be covered in a single sentence, but then they might have to report on some real news. And if you're going to cover such a meaningless incident, why not show the flip side. Does being a prisoner equate to being a hero? Was McCain totally truthful about his years in captivity? And, more important, being an American doesn't Trump, like everyone else, get to say pretty much what he thinks without being pressured for an apology? We don't have news networks any more. Sadly,what we have instead are news/sports/entertainment/fashion/music/crime/weather/gossip/and movie review programs. I wonder what really happened in the world today.

Better before.

Fashion is hilarious. Here is a pretty sexy-looking ordinary guy in a cornball scenario. But he soon loses the one thing that makes a man most attractive: an unawareness of his appeal. So now this guy looks kind of narcissistic and dippy as he removes his beauty product from his pocket, massages the gel, runs it through his hair  until he's gone from sexy to fashionably dorky. The video-game narration doesn't add an ounce of masculinity.

Three guys from the Line Up.

What a choice. The Republicans haven't got one man of character reaching for the presidency. These are just three of the pathetic entrants into the race. Each one of them has proven himself to be deceitful, arrogant, and of very low character. None of them is capable of diplomacy, reasoned thinking, or considering the entire country. They are just another trio in the "Let's Go to War" party.

Not on the fall schedule.

Even if Scott Walker were qualified to be president, which he isn't, he'd never make it because he's cursed with a comical face. He has droopy eye lids so he often look like he's just waking up from a nap. His lips tends to automatically purse as if he's expecting to kiss someone, but who?  And his face is an amusing variety of dopey expressions. He also has a large bald spot which doesn't always escape the camera's eye despite the desperate comb-over. So while he's moderately attractive (at least more so than all the other Republican clowns) he's much less suited for a role in the White House than he is for the lead in a sitcom called Meet Me in Madison.

Gary wrote books on writing, with good advice like this.

“This sentence has five words. Here are five more words. Five-word sentences are fine. But several together become monotonous. Listen to what is happening. The writing is getting boring. The sound of it drones. It’s like a stuck record. The ear demands some variety. Now listen. I vary the sentence length, and I create music. Music. The writing sings. It has a pleasant rhythm, a lilt, a harmony. I use short sentences. And I use sentences of medium length. And sometimes, when I am certain the reader is rested, I will engage him with a sentence of considerable length, a sentence that burns with energy and builds with all the impetus of a crescendo, the roll of the drums, the crash of the cymbals–sounds that say listen to this, it is important.”

― Gary Provost

"Damn it, I can't put that down."

Today, on my 73rd birthday, I have a little list. These are the things I've never done: driven a car; been to a sporting event; played a video game; finished a beer; been to a relative's funeral; been to a relative's wedding; eaten an oyster; broken a bone; roller skated, jumped off a diving board; been on a wooden roller coaster; learned a second language; gone to college; scubaed, snorkeled, or water skied; voted for a Republican; owned a smart phone; played golf; been to a family reunion; learned to dance; been in debt; played any musical instrument; been to a rock concert; learned to cook; made a bucket list; lied about my age; taken my life for granted; and much more, of course. Now many of these things are regrettable, some can still be changed, some were blessings, and others don't matter at all. However, there is one thing on this list of which I am very proud. Can you guess what it is?

Ancestry.scam

One of today's most popular frauds is Ancestry.com. Their commercials suggest that they are real experts at helping you learn more about your ancestry. Which is true. As long as you can provide them with complete information since they don't seem to be able to do any actual research themselves despite the commercials that suggest otherwise. Recently they promoted an add about finding out your relatives military history. I gave them my father's date and place of birth, the date he entered the military, the date he left, and every other detail they needed to know. And they came up with nothing. I tried a similar approach for family history and they told me that unless I could provide my grandparents names and dates and place of birth, they were helpless. Isn't that what they're supposed to do?

I was their pusher.

I don't often read instructions on packages. Especially when they're in 6-point type on shiny foil. But I should have read the instructions on Temptations cat treats, which our cats adore. Because we've been very generous in giving out these treats to our four cats who love them more than anything else. And why not? They are often referred to as Kitty Crack, and some vets call them the Big Mac of cat treats since they are so not nutritious. Anyway, the package says to not give more than ten a day, which we have always exceeded. So now Fly, Skipper, Harvey and our outdoor cat Glynnis are all going through rehab. So if you have cats and give them Temptations, make sure they are just a treat otherwise they'll start demanding it instead of their regular food.

Nissan. Endorsers of animal cruelty.

With this incredibly offensive commercial Nissan has endorsed one of the most inhumane events in the world,  Apparently Nissan has no conscience about using the Running of the Bulls as the theme to sell their car. It's a creepy spot that only reminds you that in Spain all the bulls sent on futile  chase after white-shirted, red-scarfed morons are later mercilessly slaughtered.. If this commercial weren't offensive enough it ends with the Nissan driver looking with disdain at a soon-to-be-murdered bull while he and his companion head towards the Toro Steakhouse. Cold. Tasteless. Disgusting. The agency and Nissan should be ashamed.

P.S. Sorry, I can't get rid of that first "parasite" commercial that runs before this shameful one. This must be a new internet scam.

Sworn to ignore.

The Accidental President is a musical about Millard Fillmore, our 13th president, which I wrote with California composer John Dusenberry. I figured if anyone ever produced it, a good promotion would be to give a Fillmore "gold" dollar to the first 100 ticket buyers. The problem I discovered from both my banks is that the government will not send specific dollar coins, one takes what one can get, and I couldn't get Fillmore. So I wrote to the Secretary of the Treasury, Jack (Jacob) Lew, asking if there was any way to secure 100 such coins. Months went by. No response. I wrote a second letter. More time went by, no response. I am very disappointed, of course, that I don't have a solution to my quest for these coins. But I am more disappointed to realize that a Cabinet Member, the Secretary of the Treasury, fifth in line for the presidency, doesn't have any sense at all that it is just plain courtesy to respond to a simple request such as mine. I'm sure the Secretary has secretaries who have secretaries, so there is no excuse for this rudeness from a public servant.

Follow-up: I finally received a letter explaining that these $1 coins are no longer available to the general  public, but can be purchased through their on-line catalog. After getting the run-around by salespersons who hadn't even heard of Fillmore, I found that I could purchase the $1 coin for $11.00 and they would include a 44 cent stamp!

Sorry. Not what I call talent.

I don't know why any country feels the need for water boarding or any other kind of painful torture. It seems to me that a repeated playing of Taylor's Swift's "Shake it Off" would make anyone confess to anything. I heard it for the first time at Einstein's today and thought it was never going to end. Why is this strident, repetitive mediocre song successful? Has American really lost any taste it had in popular music. We used to have superb vocalists and, in the background, skilled musicians and  talented backup singers,  all delivering memorable songs written by professional-and often famous—lyricists and composers. Now we have artificial-sounding voices, mostly female, singing a single  strident lyric over and over and over and over and over with pseudo-instrumentals and an insistent beat. And to make it worse—if that's possible—every one of these average singers thinks they are brilliant songwriters, which explains the myriad of unrhyming, ungrammatical crap that pours out of loudspeakers in every mall, restaurant, store and doctor's office.

The Good Read.

One of my favorite publications is Freethought Today, published by the Freedom From Religion Foundation. As an atheist and American citizen who is constantly offended by rabid Christians trying to invade everyones' lives and liberties, it's a pleasure to read about their many failures to insert church in state. It's also nice to learn that religion in America is shriveling, especially by the young. (Although probably not in Texas where students are still brain-washed.) But the most revealing feature of Freethought Today is the section titled "Black Collar Crime Blotter". This section, which takes up almost three full-sized newspaper pages in the June/July issue (in dense 9-point type) lists all the many recent criminal acts and sentencings world-wide by persons closely associated with various churches. The listings are shameful and many: rape, larceny, child pornography, pederasty, voyeurism, molestation and various other serious crimes that these hypocrites preach as sinful when they're not committing them.

They have reason to smile, other than idiocy.

Fox News is where you'll find some of the luckiest people in the world. Who are they? The so-called journalists who are completely unprofessional, embarrassingly  biased, and generally ignorant. And yes, amazingly enough, employed! The idea that the three stooges on Fox and Friends even get to host a program boggles the mind. Stupid as she is, at least Elizabeth Hasselbeck is attractive, but Steve Doocy looks like a goofy yokel in his first suit, and Brian Kilmeade, let's face it, is really weird looking. Yet there they are: three harpies on a sofa, making vitriolic comments every day, attacking President Obama like schoolyard brats jealous of the smart kid. These goons make excellent salaries spewing illogical crap. I call that fortunate because no respectable news outlet would have them. And there are so many more of the Walking Brain Dead at Fox: volatile Bill O'Reilly, prissy Tucker Carlson, Bimbo Megyn Kelly, and always-flying-off-the-handle Sean Hannity. They're all so lucky that all the stupidest people in America tune into Fox News for their daily rations of hate-mongering and right wing propaganda.

The running of the men with no balls.

All of these men are trying to prove they are macho. How? By putting on white shirts, tying red bandannas around their necks and running down the street being chased by bulls. Talk about insecure. Of course none of these twerps cares that the bulls, the brave bulls, the tormented bulls, are all killed later by the sadistic Spaniards. Not if they can brag to friends back home that they ran with the bulls. I can't think of anything more cowardly than this savage event. Hopefully instead of being impressed, those who are supposed to be regaled with details of this shameful annual obscenity by these impotent fools, will look them in the eye and say, "asshole".

"This will be a cinch."

I'm not a great typist. I'm fast, but I make lots of mistake. You know who's really terrific at typing and never makes mistakes? Anyone on a television show or in the movies. Every time the hero, heroine, or some other character sits down at the computer what they type is perfect. I know that because it's always displayed on the screen, and they never have to go back to fix a typo. But that's only part of what's amazing. I'm also astonished how they can sit down at any brand of computer in any office or war zone and within seconds know exactly how to manage every program. That's skill, let me tell you!
But I shouldn't be surprised. After all these same heroes can leap into any plane or helicopter and have it flying in no time. And boy do they know how to dodge bullets. I love movies. They're so realistic.

The glasses don't help.

The dilemma is you can't be a Republican and look smart at the same time. You almost have to deny evolution, which makes you look really ignorant. You have to be against gay marriage, which makes you look homophobic. You have to defend George Bush to some degree which makes you look like a warmonger. You have to be featured on Fox News which makes you look completely misinformed.  You have to hate Obama, which makes you look racist, and hate Hillary, which makes you look a misogynist. You have to be against welfare, which makes you look uncaring; and for gun ownership, which makes you look unhinged. In short there's no way you can claim to be an intelligent,  healthy, well-adjusted, caring, patriotic American and, at the same time, a Republican.

Great series, except for......

Everyone accepts this rule: When you're making a film you don't show the microphone boom. But for some reason, no one agrees with me on this just as important rule: When you're making a film, you shouldn't show the camera flare. For some reason both cameramen and audiences think the flare of the camera lens is artistic, dramatic, acceptable. I think it's like putting out a frequent sign that says: Don't forget this isn't real, this is a film, these are actors, you are looking through a camera. I just watched the third episode of Poldark, which is very entertaining except for the constant camera flares that remind me  that the cinematographer, script girl, director, the grips, sound engineer, craft services, carpenter, wardrobe, makeup people, hair stylists, and dozens of others involved in making this series are all nearby. So losing yourself to the world of 18th century Cornwall is very difficult when every few minutes you see the glassy lens of a 21st century camera which, despite what anyone says, is no less intrusive than a microphone boom.

Some deaths are tragic. This isn't one of them.

Every week there are deaths that make you feel incredibly sad. Katheryn Steinle, 32, was one of them. This beautiful women was shot to death this week while walking with her father along Pier 14 in San Francisco. A heartbreaking death made more tragic because her killer was Francisco Sanchez, a evil lowlife who never should have been allowed in this country. Then there are deaths that should elicit one's pity, but don't, at least not mine. I never feel bad when a bullfighter is gored too death, or that matter any participant in the running of the bulls. I can't feel great pity for daredevils who know the risks involved and think they will overcome them. This week there were three deaths that don't elicit any kind of pity from me, though many would say they should. One is Tommy Woodward, 28, of Texas who went swimming in a bayou at night though he had been warned about a nearby alligator. Bad move, the alligator killed him. Then there's Devon Stapler of Calais, Maine. After lots of drinking at a Fourth of July party he set a mortarboard of fireworks off on his head. Dead. And last, but not least, is Mormon leader Boyd K. Packer, president of the faith's highest governing body. He died in his Salt Lake City home at 90 years old.  He didn't do anything risky, it's just that I never mind hearing about the death of  con man.

Note: You can add Justin Bartek, 30, to this list. Apparently this Texas postman died this week in a hospital. Like Maniac Devon Stapler, Justin was critically injured by fireworks, in his case a pyrotechnic called Medieval Knight, which he set off on his chest.

One of the many reasons I dislike living in Florida is one rarely gets to see a Gilbert and Sullivan opera. I frequently get mailers from New York listing their annual productions. I assume that while there are many G and S fans, many others are as bored by these shows as I am by grand opera. Still I am including here one of my favorite songs. This is a superb rendition of "I have a song to sing, o" from Yeoman of the Guard. If you have a couple of minutes, watch it. You will either find it terribly uninteresting and dated, or be thrilled by it as I am.

On the ballot.

In a nationwide poll 43% of Americans said they would not vote for a presidential candidate who was an atheist. So, in short, they insist that any president of this country must believe in superstition and magical thinking. In a crisis they would insist on having a president who prayed for the problem to go away with god's help, rather than knowing it was up to him to take only realistic and earthly action. And, knowing Americans, I am sure they would be very picky about which of the many never proven omniscient gods the candidate would have to blindly believe in. I'm sure their choice would be the recently invented (in the larger span of time) Christian god, you know the one who sits in heaven and knows every single move that every one of the billions of people on earth makes, listens to every prayer, rewards many nasty people with untold wealth, and punishes innocent people and millions of children with famine, drought, and disease. That's the guy that 43% of Americans insist that any president they vote for must believe in.

Displays of cruelty.

You can't love fireworks and animals, because animals are terrified and disturbed by fireworks. Every Fourth of July and New Year's Eve hundred of dogs and cats run away to hide and are often not found. Many are actually hurt or killed by leaping over fences or crashing into walls and windows in their panic. Every year fireworks displays lead to deaths of thousands of birds all across the country. They recorded the deaths of 5,000 birds in Arkansas alone. The loud sounds frighten birds  out of their nests and often send them flying in wild panic leading to their deaths. So the next time you go to a fireworks display and ooh and aah at all the bright explosions in the sky, keep in mind that animals are suffering all around you while you enjoy that brief pleasure. Just another way the selfishness of people results in the torment and death of innocent animals. If you care, protest to your local authorities and request a safer and quiet laser light display.

A commercial nightmare.

This has got to be one of the worst commercials ever produced. This no-concept spot gives us a hook that could be used just as ineffectively for any product. In this case it's a Beautyrest mattress. But why, or why, would Beautyrest want to associate their costly mattress with a mentally ill and destructive woman? We learn nothing about the product's construction. All we see is an out-of-control maniac going from site to site in a frenzy of exaggerated joy assaulting innocent victims with the spray of a champagne bottle. The agency that produced this commercial should be ashamed of themselves, as should the client that approved such an inane non-idea.

Sandwich boards redux.

Today a very attractive young woman passed me while I was waiting for the bus. She had a beautiful face, a fantastic figure, and was fashionably dressed. Except for one thing. Across her chest in huge embroidered letters was "AEROPOSTALE". I will never understand why so many people are willing to pay to be walking billboards for zillion dollar corporations. This woman was a attraction in herself, so why would she need to advertise that she buys this brand of top? Why would anyone? I can see where a small Ralph Lauren logo on a Polo shirt is decorative. But who are these characters that walk around with that same logo 8 inches high in a variety of garish colors? Some designers don't even make a pretense of subtlety, Tommy Hilfiger has millions of unpaid sandwich boards walking around praising his vin ordinaire fashions. And what could look more meretricious than those ubiquitious garish belts with the designer's name hugely spelled out in gold, silver of glass jewels? The irony is that all these fashions are supposed to proclaim that the wearer is fashionable, moneyed, and has excellent taste. But instead the just say to one and all, I am insecure, have no style of my own, and am terrified to wear anything that doesn't clearly have the name of designers who probably think I'm an idiot.