8-30-2008 Pittston, Palin & Pogrom

There was no shortage of important goings-on this past week.

First and foremost, my daughter’s beau--Jason--was rushed off to a burn unit after trying to dispose of some freshly piled logs by employing and lighting a $3.50-a-gallon accelerant. Ebon says he’s doing fine, he has varying degrees of burns here and there and everywhere on his body and he may to able to go home on Monday. Good news we were hoping to hear.

Yet another reason to hate Big Oil.

Oh, And Ebon’s team, the GAR girls volleyball team is 1-0 after defeating Pittston Area yesterday. What’s that old phrase? You’ve come a long way, baby? Outstanding.

From The Times Leader:

GAR 3, Pittston Area 0

Kassy Brojakowski had 12 digs, eight service points and three kills to lead the Grenadiers to victory over the Patriots. The scores were 25-17, 25-15, 25-21.
Julia Zafia added five kills, seven digs and three blocks, while Kellie Yekel had seven service points, seen assists, two aces and two blocks.

Despite three-years worth of tears and frustrations, she saw this thing through and seems to have the program turned around. 0-and-18 the first year. 0-and-18 the second year. 3-and-15 last year. And now a win to start off the 2008 season.

While they may or may not be ready to challenge the perennial favorites for a league title, we may at last have ourselves a program on the rise. Finally, the GAR girls are playing like ‘big chicks.’

No, I did not sit here glued to the Democratic National Convention all week long. I didn’t see the point in listening to speaker after speaker rail against a lame-duck president. And I couldn’t listen to people who used to call John McCain a bipartisan maverick suddenly casting McCain as George Bush’s clone. You can’t have it both ways in the name of political expediency, my socialist non-friends.

I did watch Hillary Clinton’s speech ( I just had to), and I have to tell you left-leaning that that was your presidential nominee. She looked and sounded presidential. And if she had been the nominee, John McCain was destined to be a presidential historical footnote. But, no, you chose deny her turn, her place in history, and know the White House is all but lost to you. You picked the wrong message of hope and change.

I did make it a point to watch Barack Obama’s acceptance speech. It was good, well-delivered and probably inspirational to those of you who now pretend that hiring in lieu of an impressive resume makes good, good sense.

He offered us lots of lofty-sounding intermezzo and plenty of high-minded sounding desserts. And all free-of-charge, no less. But, as always, he never got around to the meat and potatoes. Once again, he promised to cleanse the country’s palette, but neglected to tell us how or with what.

He promised to fix everything, while offering us all that life has to offer and absolutely free. But reality has a nasty way of tempering lofty goals, soaring rhetoric and unrealistic expectations. The guy clearly lacks substance. He is to experience what he likewise is to delusional self-importance.

And Joe Biden? Spare me. As a vice presidential pick, he’s about as exciting as watching a wart grow. Obama snubs Hillary, and then goes with the white-haired Washington veteran of thirty years or so? So much for change. And talk about a serious miscalculation borne of feeling invulnerable. Now, that’s historic in it’s sheer monumental stupidity. 18 million votes for the women and 18 million for me? Ah, to hell with her. Who needs her? Famous last thoughts, I tell you.

And then dumb old John McCain--the purported Bush clone--the senile old guy, goes and dumps approximately three billion gallons of political flame retardant on Obama’s presumptive convention afterglow by trotting out a female rising star of a politician. Admit it, Obama was upstaged by a little-known female from Alaska, outsmarted by John McCain, who suddenly appears to be senile like a fox.

And I nearly pissed myself this morning while reading all of the hastily put-together ad-hoc attacks on Gov. Sarah Palin by both the accepted media outlets, as well as the easily-led and long-predictably bloggers on the freebie side of the political aisle.

She’s inexperienced? Are you people able to look in a mirror? She’s inexperienced? Compared to whom? Barack Obama? Fact: Obama couldn’t get himself hired as a regional manager with my company. Inexperienced? Forget needing to acquire a license to procreate, as the left-leaning tyrants would prefer we do before having children. How about a license before you can go to the internet and embarrass yourself.

And then there’s this newfound hope that she’ll be disposed as part of some non-scandal in Alaska. That’s the one about the rogue state cop who tazered his own kid. Cross your fingers, myrmidons. Because at this point, Obama is gonna need all the luck he can get. If he picks Hillary, he’s the next president of the United States. Instead, his arrogance got in the way. And he may have committed the biggest blunder in the history of American politics. Funny, I don’t hear Howard Dean hootin’ and hollerin’ on this morning.

And then there’s this laughable bit about how, since nobody lives in Alaska, she’s not worthy. And how, since she was once the mayor of a town of only 9,000, she’s not up to the task she’s been tabbed for.

Okay, using that partisan-fueled illogic, that tunnel vision, Alaska should be excluded from further consideration, right? Presidents can only come from well-populated states known to be liberal enclaves, right? And mayors of small towns should be offered no chances at political ascendancy, right? Only “neighborhood organizers” from Chicago should be, right? Fueled by partisan rancor, Alaska went from off the radar screen to targeted for belittlement and scorn as the result of Palin’s having been picked. So add to the growing list of people, places and things to be hated, Big Alaska.

Yep. Because of McCain’s pick, Alaska is no longer worthy of remaining a part of the union. This pap, this filth, from the very same people who elected a bumpkin from Arkansas. Arkansas, which at that time, finished 53rd out of 50 states in practically every measurable category.

I stood there watching the McCain/Palin event on CNN while in a customer’s kitchen yesterday. While I should have been hearing about how amazing and unstoppable Obama was on the morning after, all I was hearing about was John McCain and his surprising pick of a running mate. Afterwards, we agreed that we both felt as if we had just watched history in the making. And with every voting bloc it occurred to us that this lady played well to, we giggled like a couple of kids. We giggled because we both realized the enormity of Barack Obama’s egregious miscalculation. And how he created an electoral donnybrook that never should have come about.

He just couldn’t put his ego and his arrogance aside to some degree, and allow Hillary Clinton some measure of well-deserved respect. Nope. The agent of change dashed the hope’s of 18 million women and then dissed the lot of them by not even vetting Hillary Clinton. Nope. The agent of change and hope wanted the old white guy by his side. And now he’s destined to return from whence he came, the U.S. Senate. And as a freshman senator with a threadbare resume, that’s right where he belonged the entire time.

So, keep doing your Google searches in hopes of learning that Sarah Palin paid her way through college by stripping. Or maybe you can find a dated video of her uttering a terrible curse word. Insult the residents of Alaska. And make fun of Palin’s kids while you’re at it. But when the day is done and the seething hatred resides just enough, admit to yourself that Obama was a pretender right from the get-go. And that Obama was outsmarted by the guy who was supposed to be too old and too senile to lead. And too old and too senile to win. Admit that the seething hatred has been and continues to cloud your judgment.

Because, to call Sarah Palin inexperienced when compared to Barack Obama is to prove to the rest of us that you’re either not very well-read, hopelessly partisan, blinded by anti-(pick one) rage, or in part, all of the above.

So, update your talking points to include:

Alaska now sucks.

Small town mayors are not worthy.

Sarah Palin is really kind of ugly.

And compared to Obama, she’s inexperienced.

Oh, and that thanks to Obama’s incompetence suddenly being put on parade, a vote for him will likely turn out to be a wasted vote.

Hey, you wanted the charlatan and you got him. Well, almost, that is.

Sez me.

Putting all of that inconsequential nonsense to the side, let’s cover something of the utmost importance.

WARM 590 radio will be broadcasting all of the New York Giants games for the 2008 season, so mark that down on your desktop blotter.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled internet tomfoolery.

Gage Andrew

Gage awaits the Tooth Fairy

From the e-mail inbox What happened to our buddy Dave Foglietta ?
His site is gone and hie email is toast.

BTW, the kid with the multi colored Mohawk...very funny !

L8tr

The kid with the Mohawk was my grandson Zach. Sort of reminded me of Billy Idol.

Well, I received this from DEF back in the beginning of August:

From the e-mail inbox Marc; I deleted my blog, oldforgedailynews.blogspot.com...May soon create a new kinder, gentler page, dealing mostly with literary and photography stuff from around the world, but, to be sure, with some healthy doses of venom when the need arises!....Yonki and I are going to meet for lunch in Old Forge in the near future. Care to join us? Rinaldi's rest....We're both wild about risotto. They have the best.... -DEF

He committed blogging suicide. Or something thereabouts. Somebody told me he signed on with the Georgian Army, but I have no way to confirm that short of an obituary or a few glossies from the Associated Press.

Although, he’s still lurking out there somewhere as evidenced by this later communique:

From the e-mail inbox MARC: LOOK WHAT I FOUND:

WILK's Steve Corbett says that Biden is not an Irish Catholic from Scranton because his father was not Irish (that has not been verified; perhaps a reader can enlighten us in this forum). Who established that criterion anyway. You're not considered a Jew UNLESS your mother is Jewish. That is biblical and of ancient origin.

But what about Corbett, who has made a cottage industry bragging about his alleged Irish roots. Some quick research turned up the following info on Corbett's so-called Irishness:

CORBETT: English (Shropshire; of Norman origin): nickname meaning 'little crow', 'raven', from Anglo-Norman French, Middle English corbet, a diminutive of corb, alluding probably to someone with dark hair or a dark complexion. The name was taken from Shropshire to Scotland in the 12th century and to northern Ireland in the 17th century, and thence to North America by one group of bearers of the name....[ancestry.com]

Wonder of wonders: Corbett's not even Irish, if you discount a few carpetbagger limeys that settled in N. Ireland, c. seventeen hundreds!

David Foglietta, Old Forge, PA

Personally, I have never thought of Rodham Corbett as being Irish, English or what the heck have you. In my mind, he’ll always be a loudmouthed dingle berry. A loudmouthed dingle berry who is committed to being the center of attention in all that he endeavors to mis-do. Boy, somebody didn’t get enough attention while trying to but failing to grow up.

Heyna?

From the e-mail inbox Hey Marc! I saw your videos on You Tube. Man that takes me back. My wife and I sure had lots of fun at Hanson's and Sandy Bottom when we were young. It's a shame it's all gone now.

How did you make out with the reassessment? I got slammed! We had the house appraised in `04 when we bought the cabin and the appraiser valued it at $56,000. Two years later the appraisal for the County was $107,900! Somehow, my house value increased by $51,900. Since it's been two years since they did their walk through I figure my house must be worth a 1/4 million, based on their appraisal. Crazy, huh?
Enough of that. It's good to see you're still kicking, fighting the good fight. Talk to you later,
Harry

Ah, the lake. I said to someone yesterday, if I was presented with the option to go back in time, I’d probably do so and then find myself 8-years-old all over again and frolicking away at Sandy Beach. For me, it will always be a special place. A special place accessible only from within the deepest depths of my memory.

Reassessment was not an issue. And I’m still not sure what the hell is going on. While it has to go on, I’m not sure why it’s going on as it is. The oft-documented mistakes have been glaring mistakes, which tends to undermine the residents’ fast-fleeting faith in any of it. It all leads me back to where I started out at with all of this. If you’re gonna do it, do it right. And if you can’t do it right, then don’t do it at all. Why make a bad situation even worse?

I dunno.

If we’d all been living in Alaska, we wouldn’t have any property taxes to pay while waiting for our oil revenue surplus checks in the mail. Then again, if we’d all been living in Alaska, the media and the commie-bloggers would be defaming us to no end right now.

It’s a question of what’s worst.

6-months of northern darkness, or the 12 months of political darkness that is and always has been Luzerne County?

From the e-mail inbox Guts or Balls?

There is a medical distinction. We've all heard about people having guts or balls, but do you really know the difference between them?

In an effort to keep you informed, the definitions are listed below:

GUTS - Is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being met by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to ask: 'Are you still cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?'

BALLS - Is coming home late after a night out with the guys, smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the butt and having the balls to say: You're next, Chubby.'

I hope this clears up any confusion on the definitions. Medically speaking, there is no difference in the outcome, since both ultimately result in death.

Now that the NFL season is just about upon us, this writing on the internet malarkey of mine will take it’s rightful place…further on down the list of important things to do.

Sure, I enjoy sharing my utter brilliance with the rest of you. And on most days, I’m motivated to do so provided that I have the time to do it. But, being six days removed from my league’s fantasy football draft, convincing you of my mental and/or writing superiority comes in a distant second place to managing my fantasy football juggernaut.

Just to get the rest of the hard-chargers, the football illiterate and the heavy drinkers all riled up, this is what I posted on our fantasy league home page:

Here's the rundown on 2008, delivered by none other than football's foremost fantasy expert...Mark Zorcong.

Capital: He's the commissioner. It's his league, his rules, his trophy to lose. In actuality, his wife did a hell of a job drafting his players last year. Should be competitive.

Niner Empire: Since General Manager Alex Rapee III ended his cooperation agreement with Drinkerz and Blueballs, essentially ending Niner's run as a minor league feeder team, this team looks to be improved. That is, unless the raping starts all over again.

Foreclosure: An expansion team coached by an unknown by the name of Ryan. Chances are, Blueballs coach, Stan Kowal-what-the-fuck-czyk, will get pig drunk, beat up Ryan's girlfriend and repeatedly rape poor Ryan. Should be a long year without Vasoline.

Pogrom Sonics: After a 7-7 finish in 2007, expect great things from this exciting team and it's coaching genius...me.

Blueballs: Despite claiming the league title in 2007, Blueballs is to excellence what anal sex is to procreation. Without further unfettered access to Niner Empire's roster, expect a losing season from this lackluster bunch.

Drinkerz: I taught this kid, Coach Cour Jr., practically everything he knows. Unfortunately, he forgot exactly three-quarters of what I taught him. Second-tier finish at best.

Steel City: Rumor has it that Coach Ben is soon to be indicted and arraigned for molesting numerous underage girls while at summer camp, which is an obvious step up from last year when the molestation of little boys nearly sidetracked his season. The trends are pointing downward with this crew and a post-season romp seems unlikely.

Wacko: With the first pick in this year's draft, Wacko is looking to improve on last year's year-long losing struggle for respectibility. I don't give them much for their chances, but they do have my deepest of heartfelt sympathies. Not!

There it is, girls.

Sez me.

Peace: Assistant Commissioner

This past Sunday night, my son-in-law of a league commissioner set up a league-wide conference call for the entire duration of the draft. I could give you a blow-by-blow recap, but you’d likely blush. Imagine that, a conference call between 8 rowdy, insult-firing football fans, 6 of which I suspect were drinking all day long. I know I was.

So, when the closet communists and the Republicans get to exchanging October surprises and gotcha moments, don’t be surprised if I decline to comment. The internet seems to be dominated by the left-leaning myrmidons, and nobody is going to change their minds about anything anyway.

Try this on for size. They wax poetic about why they must vote for a nobody like Barack Obama, which is their way of being dishonest with you, as well as themselves. The undeniable truth is, they intend to vote for the Democratic nominees throughout the remainders of their lives, even though those future nominees have yet to be chosen. Objective, thoughtful commentary? No, just the repeating of the talking points dropped down from on high at the DNC.

So, while the real men hurt each other for control of an odd-shaped piece of pigskin, why bother responding to what can only be called disingenuous partisanship posing as rational, evenhanded thought processes? I already know what to expect. Republicans answer to Satan, while Democrats are all well-meaning saints on loan from Heaven. Republicans are mean-spirited white guys, and Democrats have bags of taxpayer-provided tricks stuffed with freebies for everybody.

What is there to glean from the internet, when I can just about tell you to a letter what’s going to be written as Barack Obama begins to go down in a flaming mass? Sorry, I will have less and less time for that sort of predictable swill as the New York Football Giants attempt to defend their title, and as I dominate the seven boobs silly enough to match wits with me in fantasy land.

Maybe if we’d all abandon making banal political noises on the internet in favor of fantasy football, there’d be a hell of a lot less rancor and discontent. Perhaps there’d be less name-calling, and far less belittling of the opposite belittling camp. I could see more cooperation, some true bipartisanship and solutions rather than decades-old problems.

Pogrom! Pogrom!

Scratch that bullspit.

As evidenced by that league-wide conference call this past Sunday night, there’s no shortage of things to argue about, threaten people over and no shortage of stuff that makes completely crazy people of those just a twelve-pack past being sober. We are hopeless, until the women finally outlaw men altogether and herd us off to sexual reorientation camps. If that likely prospect excites you, please do not email me anymore.

So, politics, fantasy football, the ongoing Marcia versus Laurie argument, or whatever it is that seems so frightfully important to y‘all, have at it, kiddies. ‘Cause in the end, we’re all just a bunch of alcohol-fueled howling lunatics pretending to be smarter than we actually are…your author excluded.

Now repeat after me or else, Pogrom Sonics!!!

Pogrom!…Pogrom!…Pogrom!

Later






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