Saturday, June 13, 2009

Good Luck, God. You too, Jesus.


I was watching one of my favorite nerd channels, the Military Channel, this afternoon. The program was called: "The Color of War - D-Day." It was an interesting program, as are most documentaries about the war, even if they do recycle the same footage. There isn't much fresh footage of a 65-year old event, is there?

However, someone with the venerable Life Magazine uncovered some interesting, albeit creepy color images from those happy golden days of the Third Reich (before Poland invaded Germany). They recently were published in Life, and they are available to view here:

http://www.life.com/image/first/in-gallery/27022/adolf-hitler-up-close

Most of us who are history buffs, read books, or who have watched a few programs about the invasion of Normandy know the assault on Fortress Europe was an enormous risk. It was expected Allied losses would be staggering. There was nothing foregone about the outcome.

The Germans expected the landings to take place near Calais, which was closest to the English coast. Taking advantage of this perception, the Allies cheated and led the Germans to believe that George C. Scott would indeed land at the Pas de Calais. Sneakily, Allied planners actually selected Normandy, which was farther away, and would make the crossing, landing and permanent seizure of the beaches far more difficult.

To those of us who sided with the Germans because they had cooler uniforms and neato helmets, this wasn't fair. Oh well, maybe next war.

Invasion planners also faced the issue of awful weather, which was invented by the English, by the way. For about 95% of the year, even fish can't even swim in the English Channel because of rough seas. There would be no harbor, at least for awhile, through which could flow the streams of materiel for a huge army.

The Germans had years to prepare for the expected onslaught, and prepare they did with miles and miles of concrete bunkers, pill boxes, steel obstacles, barbed wire, machine guns, and anything else that could be spared from the Eastern Front, where the mean, mongoloid Russians (Patton's adjective) were.

The poor Germans.


It was serious business. Winston Churchill was particularly nervous, as he knew firsthand that even the best invasion plans do not come with any guarantee of success. The Dieppe Raid in August, 1942, was a disaster, and it was dwarfed by Operation Overlord, the largest invasion in history.

(Other than the dumb President Bush opening the borders with Mexico. Jus' sayin').

In the days before the invasion, Allied bombers bombed and strafed the coast, repeatedly and often. This was also cheating, as the Germans had already lost most of their planes and pilots, and they couldn't fight back. The purpose of these air raids was to knock out as many of the machine gun nests as possible and create "fox holes" on the beaches for cover.

Anyone who has seen "Saving Private Ryan," or talked to my friend Lyn, knows it didn't quite happen that way at Omaha Beach. The bombers missed their targets. There were very few fox or people holes and almost no cover, other than sand. There were plenty of machine guns, though. The Germans did as Germans do, and they gave our guys a chance to find cover before they fired on them.

Not really.

Now the British, French, Canadians, Polish and (I guess) Mormon troops landed at Utah, Sword, Juno, Gold Beaches. It wasn't so rough for them, and they were greeted by friendly folk wearing lederhosen and passing out Bavarian beer.


For the Americans, it sucked.

I've only touched on the risks involved with the Normandy landings, and I've done so in my usual irreverent manner. But I've visited Normandy. I've walked through the cemeteries. I've seen the cliffs of Pointe du Hoc. American Rangers somehow managed to scale the cliffs, just as some of our strategists were wondering if it might be best to cede the Omaha site and concentrate on the others.


Omaha Beach and Pointe du Hoc are among the grandest, most epic and moving places I've ever visited, other than Billings, Missouri and Billings, Oklahoma. I looked down below the cliffs at the beach, and then the channel. I wondered what it would be like to be seasick, stumbling off the LCVPs (Higgins Boats), toting a heavy pack, all the while being fired upon. I'd have called in sick or cried or something less heroic.

I asked myself, "how'd they ever do it? How'd we manage to land enough boys fast enough to finally swamp the Germans?" The answer, of course was behind me in the cemetery.

Row upon row of crosses and Stars of David. Sorry, no crescents. All those brave men who died so we could get fat and watch TV and eat Cheetohs.

General Eisenhower and his staff had every reason to be nervous about Operation Overlord. In hindsight, it was as easy and successful as a sappy John Wayne movie -- without the bad dialogue. But if it had failed, if goofy Hitler had allowed his generals to attack with the reserve Panzer divisions as Rommel pleaded, the invasion might have been repelled.

But he didn't, they couldn't, and it wasn't.

I'm getting to the point of this post. To each of the men and women involved in Operation Overlord, General Eisenhower issued a statement.


It's worth posting it all (click to enlarge):


My favorite part is the last paragraph:

"Good Luck! And let us all beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking."

I think he brought God into the plan because "luck" is so seldom adequate when one invades a continent that is defended by Germans wearing cool uniforms and sporting neato helmets. Most of us aren't that lucky in life anyway. We don't win the lottery. If we win a scratch off at Burger King, it is for something dumb we don't even want.

"Luck" doesn't protect us from machine gun nests, either -- even if the chivalrous Germans did allow plenty of time to take cover.

Toward the end of the program, the narrator began to quote from General Eisenhower's stirring statement. The words were familiar to me, and I perked up. "I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory! Good Luck!"

And that was that. End of General Eisenhower's Statement. The narrator cut the phrase about beseeching the blessing of Almighty God. No reason to do that, really, other than we wouldn't want to offend any athiest-Americans, God-haters, mohammedans, or other hyphenated members of the community who think God isn't fabulous or magical enough anymore.

When the Draculas are coming by for a visit, I know I always put away the crucifix. Life is all about not offending, isn't it.

Political correctness annoys me, even though I can't do much about it. I'm living in the wrong time, I guess. For instance, I think a town should display the Ten Commandments if it wants to. I'd like to see the Walt Disney classic, "Song of the South," but I can't do that because it isn't politically correct. It is neither shown nor sold in the United States. Reckon why?

God, who has done quite a lot for us since 1776 (if one gives Him any of the credit) , is being eased and phased out of our culture because we don't seem to need Him so much anymore. So why be cheesy and corny and Frank Capra-ish and mention Him in documentaries? General Eisenhower wrote and distributed that statement, and the troops were inspired by it. Tens of thousands of soldiers did a great deal of beseeching that morning (ask one if you can still find one) . The invasion was a success in the face of almost insurmountable odds.

Never mind that the statement is part of history. Cut, paste, edit, change and ruin those memorable words -- like editors often do with crappily written, anti-American sounding, public school history books.

No more A.D. and B.C. It's now B.C.E. and C.E.

You're out, God.

You too, Jesus.

We'll holla when we need Thee. Maybe next time muslims fly planes into our buildings, or the Martians invade earth in an awful Tom Cruise movie. Until then,

Good luck, God. You too, Jesus.


©2009 Randall P. Hodge and Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd.


Monday, June 8, 2009

Happy 85th Birthday Lyn

Franklyn C. "Lyn" Nofziger, 1924-2006


R.I.P., Georgia Eisworth Weir


Love, Bonnie & Virgil


Saturday, April 18, 2009

Even Canadians Couldn't Ruin "Knowing."

I seldom go to the movies because the film is rarely worth the price of admission. Too many people have poor manners when someone lets them out of their cages.

"White Gravy" treated me to a recent release, "Knowing," which stars Nicolas Cage (ugh), who normally ruins movies. I didn't recognize anyone else, other than a chick who was in "28 Days Later," which I don't even remember now. There were a couple of kids, some trees, a few spectacular special effects, and a group of creepy guys who looked like they escaped from "Boo Radley Land." My popcorn cost $9.00.

I agreed to see this one (as it was free) because fat Roger Ebert gave it a fat endorsement. When Ebert says it is good, it is almost always good. He and I have similar tastes in film and, apparently, food and non-working weight reduction techniques.

I don't know enough about movies to review them. I know a good movie when I see it. Kind of like the old Supreme Court standard for porn. "I know it when I see it, "said Justice (Harry) Potter Stewart. I'm sure he did. The Supreme Court never turns down porn cases, son.

"Knowing" was a great movie -- the best one I've seen since Jesus' favorite, "The Lord of the Rings."

Please don't get me started on the Canadians who sat both in front and behind me. They really do talk (loudly) all the way through movies in theatres. This is not a stereotype.

We should invade them like Poland.


I thought "Knowing" would be like a Hugh Grant flick, or maybe a Jane Austen adaptation, but no. Canadians don't usually tap those kinds of films, so to speak. Alas, the theater was crawling with them. I started to complain to the 12-year old manager of the theater, but I know from past experiences what the answer will be, "I'm sorry sir, but there is nothing we can do about Canadians. They are a peculiar species. They do what they want."

Go see "Knowing." Take a knife and stab some people if they talk loudly Or, spill a $45 jumbo-rama size cup of soda all over them. Just tell them, "Oh Snap! My bad, dawg," and all will be well.

I was not aware of this peculiar event that occurred recently. President Obama agreed to speak at Georgetown University, the nation's top Catholic school. It is run by the Jesuits, the Order that supplied the noble priest who almost succeeded in exorcising the demon right out of poor Linda Blair in "The Exorcist."

But I digress.

Get this. The White House insisted that Georgetown "cover up all religious symbols and signs while the president was on stage."

"WTF," as they say on 4Chan.

I didn't believe this when I first read it, but it is true. Check out this story.

http://www.foxnews.com/politics/first100days/2009/04/16/georgetown-university-hid-religious-symbols-white-house-request/

No crosses, religious symbols, Communion items and whatnot were permitted while "Damian" Obama was in the building. My theory is the President is a muslim vampire who cannot abide the sight of a crucifix or anything that would remind him of the Baby Jesus, which would also include this symbol:

These letters represent the Name of Jesus in Greek.

Something isn't quite right about Obama, and I suspect more will be revealed. In the meantime, we can all watch "Hal Lindsey" for comfort and reassurance that all is ending as he predicted in "The Late Great Planet Earth."

Jus' sayin'. Never hatin'.

Except for talkative Canadians in movie theaters.

(c) 2009 Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd.




Thursday, April 16, 2009

Susan Boyle, My Babymama



Seth Myers, of "Saturday Night Live" fame put it best when he recently stated on "Weekend Update," that President George W. Bush "broke the world" during his Presidency. I agree. Bush broke it into a million tiny pieces. He wrecked it in almost every way the world CAN be wrecked. President Obama, who is shaping up to be a Chocolate Jimmy Carter, has tried to sweep up the pieces and gom them back together. He is making things worse, though.

For example, I wonder what possessed President Obama to give mindlessly idiotic gifts to Queen Elizabeth II and British Prime Minister Gordon Brown?


He gave Her Majesty the Queen a ghetto blaster and some Chaka Khan CD's. I don't get it, and I cannot envision her shucking and jiving about the palace with a boom box resting her 82-year old shoulder.

I'm jus' sayin'.

Obama gave (or most likely re-gifted) Prime Minister Gordon Brown a set of DVD's that won't even play on the PAL players used in the UK. Even if they'd play over there, what made the President think Brown or anyone in England would ever want to watch "Blacula," "Shaft," and "Good Times?"


There is more.

Barack Obama bowed down before a muslim emir. No American President has ever done such a thing.


In Turkey, a greasy muslim country famous for its picturesque prisons, the President declared the United States is no longer a Christian nation. I mean that in a nice way.

People I told you this was going to happen.

I fear the worst is still to come.

Look for the President to offer those wretched somalians one of our aircraft carriers if they'll please be nice and let our ships pass unmolested. He will give nukes to North Korea and Iran if they'll please be nice and not blow up Japan or Israel.

Chocolate Jimmy Carter, son.

And...

At present, no one is employed in America. Ninety-eight percent of all homes are in foreclosure -- even those without mortgages. Kal Penn, of "Harold and Kumar go to White Castle" fame, is now a senior member of White House Staff. Frrrl. I lie a lot about a great many things, but that is the troof.

The Mexicans have seized California, Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, and Texas. The Canadians briefly invaded Minnesota, but they got tired and went home.

The whole world is broken. People are poor, sad, afraid, hungry, nekkid, lonely, tired, fat, wet, Wal-Mart lookin', and seething with anger at somebody.

Sauron has risen in the east.

"King of the Hill" has been cancelled by Fox.

In the midst of all this, along comes Susan Boyle, who has captured the imagination of white people everywhere. I don't mean that racist. Miss Boyle is a frumpy, but delightfully charming 47-year old spinster from Scotland. (She looks a lot like me if I were taller and in drag). She appeared on a television program, "Britain's got Talent," and belted out a showtune from Les Miserables, "I Dreamed a Dream."

YouTube, Facebook, that awful Myspace, and many other websites are packed with postings and embeds of the video. Literally tens of millions of people have watched it. It's so grotesquely sappy and cheesy, it is almost sickening, but it's still quite something to witness the courage of this lady. She has an amazing and incredible voice. She also has an amazing and incredible future, and good for her.

So take a look at this video. Neither Bush, Obama, nor even the putrid untermenchen somalians could screw this up for us. Tomorrow, some fat moron will probably shoot up some folks, but today everyone was smiling about and pulling for my girl Susan Boyle.

Today, we Americans decided to take a short break from Obamadammerung.


Note: if this link doesn't work, it simply means someone has disabled it because they are racist and a terrorist. It is worth a google search to find it posted at some other site.



R.I.P., Bonnie

(c) 2009 Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd.




Friday, April 10, 2009

Why I Hate KFOR Channel 4


Incredibly, on April 9, 2009, KFOR, the local NBC affiliate, preempted BOTH episodes of NBC's popular program, "The Office," so its dreadful local news stars could spend the entire evening over-reporting the story about the alleged fires in Midwest City. Upon reflection, I'm not so sure KFOR didn't make up the whole thing. I know I didn't see any fires. Never mind I never go outside the house, but these things happen.


In honor of Jesus (I guess), NBC aired TWO new episodes in one night. Fans of the beloved and iconic television show were understandably irritated with the preemption. In protest, over 250,000 people gathered for a candlelight vigil outside the hideous worldwide headquarters of KFOR. Outraged former viewers threw paper clips, staples, urine balloons, and put up witty and obscenity-laced Post-it Notes© (all of which quickly blew away).

More importantly, they pledged additional peaceful and madcap gestures designed to remind people that KFOR is patently moronic, just plain goofy and, sadly, probably hates Jesus. These will include a hunger strike, vows by some to call in phony tornado sightings, and a boycott of the number four (4). Attempts to create and burn in effigy the rotund anchorman, Kevin Ogle, were unsuccessful, due to a shortage of stuffing.


Jus' sayin'.

It isn't the end of the world, though; I eventually watched both episodes (really GREAT ones, by the way) at www.nbc.com. I had to suffer through a few Toyota commercials, but I'll live.

KFOR is worse than Hitler.


(c) 2009 Randall P. Hodge, Esq. and Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd.






Friday, March 27, 2009

In Monumentum

Lyn Nofziger

In Monumentum - Lyn Nofziger 1924-2006

Three years ago, Lyn Nofziger left us to go work crossword puzzles with Jesus and President Reagan and his daughter, Susie. He didn't want to leave us, but these things sometimes happen when people have cancer. He had a little time, though, albeit with some pain, and he fought hard. He loved life, but he did not fear death. He was a devout Christian. He knew his Redeemer lived.

Last time I saw him, in March of 2006, I looked him in the eye, paused, and said, "I am sorry you are sick.

He laughed and said, "I'm sorry I'm sick too.

He was slipping badly by that time. It was a chore to go to the bathroom. They gave him one of those plastic thingies, into which one can pee when it’s difficult to skip off to the restroom. Lyn knew that at times I could be almost as dumb as rocks. He handed me one of the filled plastic thingies and said, "Bonnie (his wife) is in the kitchen. Would you take this in there and pour it down the kitchen sink?"

"I'd rather try and sell it on Ebay,” I said. It is, after all, Lyn Nofziger pee." The notion that he was some kind of celebrity amused him. Whenever we were out in public, I’d beg him to walk up and down the street until someone recognized us so I could be seen with him. To conservatives, he was a celebrity.

I almost took the plastic receptacle into the kitchen, where Bonnie was gomming around with something.

Almost. He would have had a big laugh at that too.

If you know Bonnie, you'd know her kitchen is spotless and immaculate, and that one most generally does not pour urine down the sink. Thankfully, I realized Lyn was joking, and I took it to the bathroom.

Shortly before be got sick, I wanted to return to Washington and work for the Bush Administration. Lyn gave me the name of a contact and said, "tell him I'm dying, that you are a friend of mine, and to hire you.”

Joking at a time like that. Only Lyn.

I met him in the fall of 1978. I was in Los Angeles to interview for a summer job in Governor Reagan’s office. He must have felt sorry for me with my polyester suit, cheap shoes, clip on tie, and bad haircut. Maybe I reminded him of himself, as he was dressed much the same way. He was no Beau Brummel, and he'd be the first to tell you that. Those who knew him, though, thought he was Cary Grant. He invited me to his home that evening for dinner on the deck, which he built. He love to putter and garden.

He knew what it would mean for me to be invited to his home. He could have easily passed me off with a handshake at his office, but he was far too swell. Lyn Nofziger was political royalty. In 1976, when Reagan almost beat Ford, Lyn was constantly in the papers, magazines and on TV, because he was Press Secretary for the campaign.

I got the summer job in Los Angeles, and over the years, I bugged him with fan mail, phone calls, and I worked for him as an aide. When I lived in Virginia, and when I didn't make much money, he’d hire me to rake leaves or wash windows. When he and Bonnie traveled they paid me to housesit. He knew I could use the extra money. He helped lots of folks.

When my Mother visited, he insisted on taking us to eat, every time. Once, at an expensive Chinese restaurant called Mr. K’s (which ain’t cheap), he told the waiter to bring us some of every dish on the menu. My Mom had never been to a Chinese restaurant. That was special.

I grew to love and admire Lyn even more because I had the joy of getting to know him as a friend. A real person. Someone with whom I could talk politics, baseball, current events or gardening. The one subject Corporal Nofziger would not discuss was the War, which told me his experience wasn’t as a librarian at Fort Dix. He knew something about D-Day.

Our favorite pastime was the crossword puzzle. When I visited, he let ME have first crack at it. Back home, if I was stumped with a puzzle, I'd fax it to him so he could fix it. He’d share with me that I'd "effed it all up." He used a pen, and he laughed at ME for using a pencil. True crossword aficionados use an ink pen. Good for them. I don't.

It was funny when he ribbed me. I ribbed him too, and once in awhile I got off a good one at his expense, like the time he used bad grammar on CNN. That happened ONE TIME that I know of with Lyn Nofziger. He said "the media is" instead of "the media are." Well big deal. Who knows that anyway? He taught me more about writing and grammar than a thousand teachers could have. He loved to call me when my beloved Oklahoma Sooners lost. He told me I was a jinx. I loved to call him when his beloved Red Sox lost. How he loved Ted Williams. I bought him an autographed photo of Williams once, and Lyn claimed it was a fake. He knew better.

Once I sent him a shirt for Father's Day. Later, I asked him about it. He told me it didn't fit and that he hated it. Next time I flew out to Washington, he picked me up at the airport. He was wearing the shirt, and it fit just fine. Bonnie told me it was his favorite shirt, and that he wore it all the time.

I sent him some old fashioned candy from the Vermont Country Store. He told me he threw it out. "Bonnie and I hate candy, and it made Bonnie sick," he said. I found out that was a fib too. He'd wolfed it down because he loved sweets. Once he ate up all my Atomic Fire Balls.

He loved to give you a hard time, but only if he knew YOU knew he was joking.

Lyn, Bonnie and me on Lyn's 70th Birthday, 1994

Oh yeah, I give him credit for winning the Cold War.

In 1976, after Reagan's narrow loss to Ford, Lyn advised the Reagans there was about a million bucks left over. They could pocket the money, give it away, or do anything they wanted with it; it was their money.

Lyn suggested starting a poltical action committee, the purpose of which would be to help elect conservative Republicans. Reagan thought this was a splendid idea, and he asked Lyn to chair the committee. Lyn accepted.

The PAC was called "Citizens for the Republic,” and it supported conservative candidates and causes all over the country. More importantly, CFTR was a vehicle through which Reagan could keep his name before his supporters and the public. With CFTR, Lyn Nofziger held together the 1976 Citizens for Reagan campaign.

In time, Reagan for President, the official campaign organization, was born, but CFTR continued its very important work. Lyn eventually joined the senior staff at Reagan for President. In November, 1980, Reagan won a landslide victory over Jimmy Carter, America was saved, Carter became a harmless bore, and the rest is history.

President Reagan's leadership and policies led to the dissolution of the "Evil Empire." His Presidency led to a restoration of faith that America truly was a special place, set between the oceans, to serve as a beacon of hope, and an example for others. If that sounds a mite cheesy, it is because I have borrowed some of the phrases from other cheesy people, like President Reagan.

Lyn and the President in the Oval Office, c. 1982

Sometimes "cheesy" is good and true, though, and Reagan knew this. So did Lyn.

So, to sum up, Lyn ran CFTR, which led to Reagan for President. Reagan for President got Reagan elected, and this led to the end of the Cold War. Ergo, Lyn Nofziger ended the Cold War.

I miss Lyn every day of every week. I miss his emails, his awful puns, and his laughter at his own bad jokes. I miss his love and affection. I cherish the cardigan sweater he gave me. I miss calling him for advice on shaving. I miss him calling me when I had a super early flight, so I wouldn't oversleep. I miss him picking me up at the airport, and then bitching about the parking garage (English never spoken here) and the traffic on the way home. I always offered to take a cab, but he insisted on picking me up. I miss going with him to "Hard Times Cafe" for chili. I miss going to the mall on the day after Thanksgiving so we could complain about the crowds. I miss watching football games with him. I wish I could see him just one more time in an undershirt. Marlon Brando in a t-shirt, he was not.

I just miss him.

In the end, the doctor told Lyn he could have cigars, so he had cigars.

(c) 2009 Randall P. Hodge and Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd.


Sunday, March 22, 2009

A movie to watch when you've been made Redundant



When I am feeling a little down, I always like to sit back and watch one of those "feel good" Holocaust movies. The other day I found one. It is one few people have seen.

The movie? "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RGRaeAx9Qs

It played at Quail Springs Mall for about six hours, and then it moved on. About 34 people in Oklahoma City saw it. It broke the record previously set by "Priscilla Queen of the Desert," which was seen by 12 people. As always, one must drive to Dallas for anything more exotic than fishing lures and guns...and Seth Rogen movies. I hate movie theaters anyway. The one at Penn Square often "smells like feet," as Malcolm in the Middle says. It costs about $300 to go to the movies.

The reviews for "Pajamas" were mixed, so I passed on going.
Now it is out on DVD.

The reviews for the movie were wrong. It was excellent. All the actors were (I think) British, and thank allah they didn't try to fake cliched German accents. Watch Hogan's Heroes for that nonsense. Can you imagine Tom Cruise (ugh) trying a German accent in "Valkyrie?" Honkey pleez. He didn't try it. As Samwise Gamgee said, "there is some good in this world."

There wasn't anything particularly special about"Pajamas" until the end. The ending made the rest of it fantastic. Not because of what happened, but it made the rest of the movie relevant. WOW. I'm glad no one ruined it for me by telling me the ending, which is why I'm going to tell you right now.

Psyche!

Refreshingly, "Pajamas" doesn't try to blame the Germans for the Holocaust.

Wait.

Yes it does. It WAS the Germans, wasn't it. My bad. They were just upset and misguided about some things, needed therapy, and they didn't mean to do it anyway.

Kind of like O.J.

Still, like "Schindler's List," the movie is anti-Germanic. I thought we'd moved past this ugliness and bigotry. Frrrrl. You know what really annoys me? Nowadays, when talking about the War, people say we were fighting the "Nazis." We were fighting the Germans, bitches. There weren't all that many "Nazis," --certainly not enough to roll through Europe. It is another one of those politically correct things morons say so Germany will feel better about allegedly starting a war in 1939. Poland started it, by the way.

Nazism was a political philosophy and a political party. People joined it and some wore dashing uniforms. Ask any World War II vet of the European Theater, though. He will tell you it was the Germans who were shooting at him.

Boy, I really digress.

"Pajamas" has some decent extras on the DVD, but not like "Lord of the Rings," which has about 128 hours of extras for the truly nerdy (like me) who think it is non-fiction. Extras are worth a look in "Pajamas."

By the way, why in the world didn't Frodo and Sam just hire a damned eagle to fly them to Mt. Doom? It would have saved us a lot of trouble, a bunch of dead folks, and two movies. I asked this question when I was 14, and I've yet to get a satisfactory answer.

But I digress again. I guess I forgot to take my medication.

My boy James Horner composed the music for "Pajamas," and it is terrific. He also composed for "Titanic," and many others I am too lazy to look up on IMDBpro (PRO version to which I subscribe, because I am going to be a big star some day).

"The Boy in the Striped Pajamas," bitches. Great flick. Watch it. Not many attractive people, and the fashion (other than the uniforms) was not so much, but...

There is a reason I constantly use the terms "bitches" and "Frrrrl (number of r's optional), which means "for real." I have learned these things from white people, who very much want to be black, and who learned the expressions from black people. I use them in a gallant effort to fit into this brave new Obamaworld. Black is the new black. I have even had hugging and gesture lessons, but I found out I suck at gangstah hugs and gestures because I am left handed. I think only white people are left handed, but I digress. Apparently, gangstah hugs are supposed to be "heart to heart," which is awkward for left handed people. We really should draw a check from the government for being left handed.

Rent the movie.

I wish everyone the very best this Easter, Purim, Passover, and whatever violent, self-flagellating or murderous "holiday"the muslims celebrate. I am sure they have copied something from the Judeo-Christian traditions. No offense.

Christians eat better on Easter; I am sorry Hebrews. We get ham, and fixin's, and you get bitter herbs and boring bread. We're fatter though.

Jewish Americans, You need TBN. NOW.

TBN logo (without the voiceover of my boy Efrem Zimbalist, Jr.)

Paul and Jan Crouch. Yes, the hair is completely real.

Jus' sayin'.

Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises, Ltd. (c) 2009