Instapun*** Archive Listing

Archive Listing
November 11, 2009 - November 4, 2009

Monday, November 09, 2009

ObamaCare 1.0

Not just a war on capitalism. "uh, excuse my scalpel. Your
breast tissue is on the scale of Chicago. Or Moscow. Kewl."

THE BOOB OFFENSIVE. Gasp! We do look at who's looking at InstaPunk. All weekend, people were looking for our previous posts about Nancy Pelosi, especially including our posts about her huge breasts. uh, their searches have doubled the traffic here. They were looking for this joke, which is part of our punk persona and an even bigger part of the reason why InstaPunk is universally damned by its betters. Meaning everyone who wants us never to make fun of their own unassailable icons. Which isn't going to be the case. With maybe one exception. If there's anyone ever we hold in highest, most worshipful regard, it's Charles Krauthammer. But guess what. When we disagreed, we were disrespectful nonetheless. Mirabile dictu. I guess it's called freedom of speech. And ANARCHY! Just kidding. It's possible I've earned the right to stand back a football field's worth of distance and laugh. But where were we? Ah, yes. Tits. Specifically, Pelosi's tits.

Don't know about you, but we just can't wait for the chest rockets
on the next traitorous congressional Medusa of the United States.

Fascinating. This idiot wench is hell-bent on destroying our nation, and the biggest rise we can succeed in getting out of the Internet is slobbering clowns who want to see 63-year-old tits, silicon-inflated ones at that. And in the meantime, the United States of America is as close as it's ever been to totalitarianism. I guess Karl Marx never had a personal, up-close experience with an erect female nipple. (Which I can completely understand, given what I know of economists.) Good for us. Good for us? I suppose not.

Excuse me. Do I seem to be saying that matters of life and death in American politics are being held hostage to matters of sex and, uh, boobage?

Yes. I'm saying exactly that. Our country is being destroyed by tits. How did Pelosi become Speaker of the House? She clearly has the IQ of a radish. Not to say that she doesn't have the cunning of a sly strumpet when it comes to counting and extorting votes. Meaning she's an able gutter-level politician. But how on earth did we hand our country over to this unprincipled, unscrupulous courtesan of blackmail and ruthless ego? How can we possibly pretend that she's anything but a silicon slutnightmare who sees the entire fabric of the United States as a reflection in her makeup mirror.

Sad. Our nation is being done in by a woman who can't bear to get old. Sadder. All of you. You who would prefer to discuss, and pontificate, and (on occasion) scream at me rather than STOP this insanity from occurring. I know. It's easier to be superior and sound smarter than to do anything when the life of the nation is on the line.

Sorry. Truly. The U.S. of A. is done. Wish it were otherwise. Glad I'm old. The only other thing I wish I knew is how to render a soul scream of outrage in pure alphanumeric characters. Because I'm not content. I'm crazed. What I want to say is something like "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

All I can do instead is give you this YouTube clip:

Think about it. It doesn't make any sense. Neither does the Obama adminstration.

Thursday, November 05, 2009

A Grace Note & A Questioning Note

LIFE GOES ON. First and probably most importantly, congratulations from a diehard Philadelphia Phillies fan to the New York Yankees. The World Series was well played and the better team won. I'm also happy to say that from first to last, I saw nothing but class behavior from the new World Champions of Baseball. Their manager and players were uniformly well spoken, gracious in victory and defeat, and true to the highest ideals of sport. I'm also proud of the Phillies. They played gallantly. I prefer our ballpark to theirs and our fans to theirs, but not by any great measure.

Unfortunately, I can't say the same thing about the Fox Sports coverage of the Series or the connivance by Major League Baseball in that coverage. The night-scheduling of (all) the games was atrocious. November is no time to be playing baseball. The commercial interruptions, especially of the Sunday game, bordered on the obscene in their frequency, disruptiveness, and length. It spoils the experience of watching. The commentators were verbose, intrusive, distracting and (to this fan) discernibly partial to the perennial overdog Yankees. (Special callout to color man and former Phillie Tim McCarver, the designated catcher of the virtually silent Steve Carlton: You talk too much. And way too self-importantly.) But none of this is the Yankees' fault. They earned the title fair and square. Hopefully, we'll get another chance at you next year.


Next. Have any of you noticed something odd about the NFL this year? What happened to the carefully planned and controlled drive toward parity, which has been the league's objective since the merger of the old AFL and NFL? Look at the highlighted teams in the current standings:

I know, I know. It's early yet. And one year does not a trend make. All of that conceded in advance, I'm still minded to raise an eyebrow at the disparity we see between the best and worst. There are six teams with one or no wins and four teams with one or no losses. That's about 30 percent of the NFL. How can this be after a generation of a closed monopolistic system whose rules  -- a rigidly administered draft, salary caps, revenue sharing between rich and poor franchises, and a monolithic employees' union -- are specifically designed to produce equality of outcomes? I mean, in a sense, isn't it true that the NFL is a kind of microcosm of the government managed economy the left is presently trying to establish in the country as a whole? Isn't it?

So why, after all this time, has it come to pass that the old truism about "any given Sunday" is less true this year than ever before. The lowest ranking teams are genuinely hapless and terrible, even laughable among sports journalists: Detroit, St. Louis, Kansas City, Cleveland, and Tennessee. And there are a few others almost equally risible: Washington, Seattle, and Oakland. That's 25 percent of the league. What are we looking at here in a more generic economic context? A shrinking middle class.

It's also interesting to consider that the teams at the top of the heap in this closed, hyper-controlled market are there because there's no replacement for honest-to-goodness talent. They're not the richest or biggest cities in the league, but New Orleans has Drew Brees, Indianapolis has Peyton Manning, Minneapolis has Brent Favre, and Denver has a brilliant (too) young coach. But other criteria suggest that despite explicit constraints on these factors, size, money, and cultural clout still find a way to worm their way up the food chain: Cities that are big or otherwise influential like New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, Dallas, Houston, San Diego, and Boston are definitely prospering in comparison to rust-belt and low-rent cities like Detroit, Oakland, Buffalo, and Cleveland.

Which is quite a bit like what happens in the free market. So what's the advantage of running it like a damn feudal kingdom? Other than making it much much harder to get into the competition in the first place?

I'm not going to delve into team specifics or particulars of procedural history. You can if you want. All I'm doing here is asking a question. Isn't it possible that there's simply no way to ensure equality of outcomes? That all you do by regulating everything to the last detail is change the circumstances that will be manipulated by the competitors who are best at gaming the ridiculously artificial system thus created in their own favor?

What might we have seen if there were no anti-trust protection for the National Football League? If anyone and everyone could assemble a team and challenge -- like the old AFL did -- the hegemony of a league dominated by tycoons, executives, and checkbook strategists such as those deployed by the Dallas Cowboys and New York Giants? What then? Have we missed an entire generation of innovations of the kind that would make the current lame fad of the "Wildcat Offense" look sick by comparison? How would we ever know?

Just a query. Make of it what you will.

60's Time Machine

My whole life has been upside down. Not that you should care. You shouldn't.

STRETCHING HURTS. It wasn't all Beatles and Stones and Herman's Hermits. I was just thinking about this. My parents were actually pretty cool. I've told you previously that the car industry was nothing like you thought it was. Now I want to tell you that music wasn't, either. Truth is, people in those days weren't anything like what you've been told they were. They weren't the xenophobic conformist minions of the Cold War contemporary libs make them out to be. They were actually pretty hot stuff. All of the the numbers below I DO remember. Not all of them were parental favorites. But most were songs I saw them dance to. Until the "Man with No Name" stuff at the end. But in the context of the earlier stuff, that's hardly what you'd call revolutionary.

Afrikaan Beat. Bert Kaempfert. My dad thought of him as fun music.

The Girl from Ipanema. Sinatra's version. My mother loved the bossa nova. A lot.

Brazil 66. Yeah, even the old fuddy duddies knew of Latin music. Go figure.

Guantanamera. This one is keenly personal. A hit right before I went away to school at the age of thirteen. Have you ever been homesick at thirteen? This is what it sounds like. Next stop for me, post-homesickness? The Doors.

Herb Alpert. My sister had all their albums. Right before she traded them in for the Mamas and the Papas. And then, a day later, the Moody Blues.

Perez Prado. My dad had this one. Maybe he wasn't a Cuban at heart, but he loved the music.

The Ecstasy of Gold. We thought we were rebelling by loving this cut. Hardly.

The rebellion here wasn't musical. It was about murder. We loved it.

Some of us fell in love with anarchy, which has no rhythms, Latin or otherwise. Which is when I flipped to the Stones.

So who was more sophisticated and enlightened? You tell me.

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

The New Jersey Election

Does the word 'lame' ring a bell? Yeah. Every four years.

. I think that on the whole, conservative pundits are being as reasonable and shrewd about last night's results as the Democrats are being mendacious and dull. Jonah Goldberg has a good column explaining the undeniable pluses, and Limbaugh has some deeper reasons for optimism, while Mark Steyn sounds an appropriate warning note. There's only one additional nugget of insight I'd like to offer, based on the fact that I'm a New Jersey native. I keep reading on both right and left the argument that a big part of Corzine's defeat has to be attributed to the fact that he was a lousy governor.

I want to assure all the people who don't hail from New Jersey that this is not true. Every single New Jersey governor in my lifetime has been a lousy governor. It's hardly ever stopped us from reelecting them. It's almost as if we take some perverse pride in shackling ourselves to state executives who are not only inept and quite remarkably stupid, but also disaster-prone. What gives with that? I have no idea.

I mean, what's to choose between Brendan Byrne's drunken Irish slur and Tom Kean's inexplicable, teeth-grating Kennedy accent? Between Christie Todd Whitman's tone-deaf photo-op of her frisking a black man and Corzine's crazed high-speed crash on the Garden State Parkway? Or between Florio's immediate broken promise not to raise taxes and McGreevey's equally self-destructive decision to hire his gay Israeli lover as his homeland security czar in the aftermath of 9/11? Yeah, we didn't reelect them all, but to be fair we didn't always get the chance to. Florio hung in there and lost by a single point, but McGreevey quit, probably in a fit of depression that blinded him to the distinct possibility that if he just rode the scandal out, he could bang his boyfriends for another four years at Drumthwacket.

Mostly, you see, we're used to it. We know before we even hear their names for the first time that they'll be dumb, corrupt, unresponsive weasels. Taxes will keep going up, regardless, laws will keep getting sillier and more onerous, and the very best thing we can hope for is that they won't do much at all after they learn that the state legislature is not only bought and paid for in perpetuity but actually insane. Nobody in New Jersey -- and I mean nobody -- actually thinks Chris Christie will be any better than his predecessor. Not by one jot or tittle.

Which means that Corzine's loss was a pure statement of protest. Against Obama. For sure. We're accustomed to being insulted by the venal mediocrity of all New Jersey politicians. But it added injury to insult when Obama toured our state several times in the past week insisting that Corzine was a good governor. That would be a bridge too far, even for us. Hell, even Corzine's $30 million worth of political ads never made that ridiculous claim.

It's puke-making.

And that's all I have to say about it.


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