My Crazy Suggestion Box
The politicians are working on the immigration issue. I'm glad I don't have to figure that one out. My previous idea (making Mexico our 51st state) apparently didn't go over, but it was pretty far reaching. I bet by the end of the century it will have happened, but lots of things are bound to have happened by then. I guess we'll have expensive fences and lights and everything down there, along with the National Guard (it has to beat being in Iraq, that's all I have to say about that).

Here's my next suggestion, on another topic. This one is regarding the coming hurricane season in the Gulf. Instead of relying on FEMA or some other version of that agency, I think we should put Jimmy Carter in charge. He could make realistic, non-partisan assessments of what's happening and what we should do about it. We could all defer to his opinion and he can run that show. There's no telling what will happen next time, but in any case there won't be a repeat of the horrors of Katrina. If there is...

Here's my final suggestion: To avoid the bitter, divisive, ugly wrangling that has become our presidential selection process I propose the following two candidates on the same ticket -- Condoleezza Rice and Hillary Clinton. Dr. Rice can mostly worry about foreign affairs, and Hillary can try to get some of our domestic issues squared away. Those of us on either side will be driven equally crazy by whichever one of them sticks in our craw, but maybe we could start working together for a change.

Somos hermanos, es nuestro himno
Well, I was wrong. I made light of the immigration issue a few posts back. I didn't realize at the time how important it is to some people. I think I was right in implying that the issue lacks the sex-appeal that gets the media going. I am also still baffled that it suddenly sprang out of nowhere. I have no answers. It's a situation that has been going on forever, in a complex co-dependent relationship between the US and mostly Mexico. On the good side, we suddenly have another group to demonize and blame for various problems. I think there are factions among us that wish with all their might that the world could be like we imagine it used to be; where Ozzie and Harriet live next to Ward and June Cleaver next to Dick Van Dyke next to Donna Reed next to Lucy and... (well, not Ricky -- he has to go back to Cuba) and on and on. This country don't look like that no more, if it ever did.

Somebody made a recording of the national anthem in Spanish, and some people find that upsetting. It doesn't bother me -- I can't see a thing in the world to get upset about. Heck, I live in New Mexico. People speak Spanish all the time around here. If they want to sing The Star Spangled Banner, why not? I find the notion rather charming and respectful. Of course, I also can't see the problem with gays marrying each other, and I think fighting about a Constitutional Amendment banning flag burning is a stupid waste of time. No doubt someone would like to nail me to something and shoot my eyeballs out with a Winchester Special (or some equally compassionate action) for having such opinions. I think we should make a law requiring the national anthem to be sung in Navaho or Hopi, if we want to get down to that. (Hold your fire, boys. I'm just kidding!)

Ok, here's a practical solution to the whole thing. Let's make Mexico our 51st state. It makes more sense than taking over Iraq, at least we could actually DO it. Think about it -- people and money flowing back and forth. We could officially tell them what to do and take over their natural resources. Come on, amigos -- it's a Win/Win!

La Danse Macabre
Last week was busy. I was hired by an agency in L.A. to do a sketch. The client was really picky but we made it through. I also have a multi-media project going. The deadline is looming so I needed to make good progress on it.

I relaxed with the TV last night. I watched most of the Fox cartoons (except King of the Hill -- can't handle that one anymore). Then it was Crossing Jordan, and after that I sort of watched Stargate and then half of the space-opera that follows, then switched over to CSI. The last one is a CBS show, but is on ABC at midnight for whatever reason. There is an awful lot of shows about forensics on the tube, isn't there? We apparently have a fascination with the subject. It is indeed interesting, and they can go into intricate detail about how they figure out who killed who, which makes for pretty watchable stuff.

When I'm watching one of these shows, I always suspect that they are really designed around the corpses. I guess that's an obvious statement, but what I mean is the explicit viewing of body parts. When I was a kid, there was an infamous movie that could be seen periodically at the 49 cent Broadway Theater. It was the horror classic called Night of the Living Dead. It was a thrill-ride of zombies and gore, as we all know. It even had a particularly disturbing scene, where a couple of the normal people attempt to escape, the car crashes, and the zombies do their thing. One of them pulls out the intestines of somebody. That really seemed to cross a line, even for a horror flick.

Those quaint days are long gone. Now show after show features a dead body that we get to watch them cut up and pull apart with as much realism as they can manage. It strikes me as some form of porn, but who am I to judge?

Meow...meow...meow...
Saturday had an interesting twist to it. I stumbled into the living room at about 6 AM and was greeted with the sound of a cat meowing on the balcony. I opened the front door to look and there was a cute little kitty cat. She was a youngster, just beyond the kitten stage, but not full grown. She slipped into my apartment and made herself t' home. I didn't have the heart to toss her back outside, so I just went back to my room to doze through the Saturday morning cartoons, figuring I would deal with her later.

She meowed inquisitively for a while as she explored, walking around and jumping up on the furniture and knocking things over. Eventually she found a space in the closet that she liked, and would come out to say hi now and then. Later that morning I made a flyer and posted a few copies around the complex. I went to the store and got some food (and kitty litter just in case). I only got one call during the day, but we didn't seem to be talking about the same kitten. The lady said she would stop by to take a look, but she never showed. By Saturday evening I had pretty much decided I had a cat. Then my phone rang and it was a young girl, undoubtedly the owner. She sent Mom over to collect "Jinxie", who leapt from her arms back into my apartment. Alas, she could not stay and home she went.

It added a nice touch to the day; I felt that "good deed" glow knowing the girl would be happy that Jinxie made it home, and it was cool to have a living creature (besides my brother) hanging around for a while.