Monthly Archives: July 2007

O'Reilly vs. Daily Kos: The Feud Hits Home… Bill's Home

If you’re not familiar with the ongoing O’Reilly/Daily Kos feud, well, consider yourself lucky. In any case, O’Reilly’s been accusing the Kos people of harboring hate at their liberal blog/message board, and Kos and others have been accusing O’Reilly of the same.

I tend to agree with Stephen Colbert that website operators are about as responsible for what’s written on their message boards as gas station owners are responsible for what’s written on the bathroom wall, but now the feud has really hit home for O’Reilly — literally.

A guy who blogs at Kos went to O’Reilly’s home in Nassau County, while somebody else took pictures, to confront him about his “hateful” words, a sexual harassment lawsuit, and to leave some signs in his neighborhood. If you’ve always wanted to see O’Reilly in his sleepwear, now’s your chance:

After O’Reilly provided an “accountability moment” to the JetBlue CEO at his home, I decided to provide O’Reilly with his own accountability moment at his home.

I’ve just returned to home base.

I’ve got video of O’Reilly in his sleepwear (red shorts and a white t-shirt). I delivered the Andrea Mackris Court filings to all of his neighors – every home in his development got a copy. And I put a bunch of signs up along his street – “Bill O’Reilly: Andrea Mackris has your cash” directly across from his house; “Bill O’Reilly: PERVERT” in front of his home; “Bill O’Reilly: CHEATER” on the road he must take to exit his development and “Bill O’Reilly: Can’t be trusted with your daughters” at the landmark boulder marking the entrance to his development.

According to the Kos intruder, “this was the only way to let him know that he’s not above answering for his loathsome lies…answering directly to the people he’s smearing…”

If this is the way we’re doing business now, the front yards of a lot of us will soon be full of sign-wielding protesters — some of whom are in search of a one-way ticket to the ICU.

That said, I don’t think for a second that the “investigative reporter” in Bill O’Reilly had much trouble in the past going to somebody’s house to confront them on charges, whether proven in court or not, so sure, there’s a bit of a “fair play” rule involved here.

I believe that personal residences are off limits for anybody not engaged in direct law enforcement, even if the “visitor” is a reporter, and even if the resident has been accused of a crime or possesses opinions found to be disdainful by some. Their home is their home. I respect private property rights, so I’m weird like that.

Besides, what if O’Reilly owned a pitbull and the Kos visitor got a fair and balanced mauling on O’Reilly’s property? I’ll give you a second to grab a calculator to start adding up the amount of money O’Reilly would have been sued for.

Often these kinds of “visits” have more to do with prompting a violent reaction for financial gain than with seeking “truth.” Which was this? I report, you decide.

O’Reilly vs. Daily Kos: The Feud Hits Home… Bill’s Home

If you’re not familiar with the ongoing O’Reilly/Daily Kos feud, well, consider yourself lucky. In any case, O’Reilly’s been accusing the Kos people of harboring hate at their liberal blog/message board, and Kos and others have been accusing O’Reilly of the same.

I tend to agree with Stephen Colbert that website operators are about as responsible for what’s written on their message boards as gas station owners are responsible for what’s written on the bathroom wall, but now the feud has really hit home for O’Reilly — literally.

A guy who blogs at Kos went to O’Reilly’s home in Nassau County, while somebody else took pictures, to confront him about his “hateful” words, a sexual harassment lawsuit, and to leave some signs in his neighborhood. If you’ve always wanted to see O’Reilly in his sleepwear, now’s your chance:

After O’Reilly provided an “accountability moment” to the JetBlue CEO at his home, I decided to provide O’Reilly with his own accountability moment at his home.

I’ve just returned to home base.

I’ve got video of O’Reilly in his sleepwear (red shorts and a white t-shirt). I delivered the Andrea Mackris Court filings to all of his neighors – every home in his development got a copy. And I put a bunch of signs up along his street – “Bill O’Reilly: Andrea Mackris has your cash” directly across from his house; “Bill O’Reilly: PERVERT” in front of his home; “Bill O’Reilly: CHEATER” on the road he must take to exit his development and “Bill O’Reilly: Can’t be trusted with your daughters” at the landmark boulder marking the entrance to his development.

According to the Kos intruder, “this was the only way to let him know that he’s not above answering for his loathsome lies…answering directly to the people he’s smearing…”

If this is the way we’re doing business now, the front yards of a lot of us will soon be full of sign-wielding protesters — some of whom are in search of a one-way ticket to the ICU.

That said, I don’t think for a second that the “investigative reporter” in Bill O’Reilly had much trouble in the past going to somebody’s house to confront them on charges, whether proven in court or not, so sure, there’s a bit of a “fair play” rule involved here.

I believe that personal residences are off limits for anybody not engaged in direct law enforcement, even if the “visitor” is a reporter, and even if the resident has been accused of a crime or possesses opinions found to be disdainful by some. Their home is their home. I respect private property rights, so I’m weird like that.

Besides, what if O’Reilly owned a pitbull and the Kos visitor got a fair and balanced mauling on O’Reilly’s property? I’ll give you a second to grab a calculator to start adding up the amount of money O’Reilly would have been sued for.

Often these kinds of “visits” have more to do with prompting a violent reaction for financial gain than with seeking “truth.” Which was this? I report, you decide.

Drunks in Spaaaace: Chuck Jagermeister and NASA

Anybody who has ever puked in an astronaut helmet will tell you that it’s not advisable to over-party immediately before going into orbit, as it creates a most unpleasant olfactory and visual experience for the duration of the trip.

From Aviation Week:

A panel reviewing astronaut health issues in the wake of the Lisa Nowak arrest has found that on at least two occasions astronauts were allowed to fly after flight surgeons and other astronauts warned they were so intoxicated that they posed a flight-safety risk.

The panel, also reported “heavy use of alcohol” by astronauts before launch, within the standard 12-hour “bottle to throttle” rule applied to NASA flight crew members.

So that’s why they call it a moon “shot”?

Here’s an artist’s rendition of the alleged event:

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So, is this a big deal? A couple of decades ago I played Asteroids after a few beers and had my best game ever. But is the story even true? Sure, we could wait and see if somebody installs a 24-hour Wendy’s fly-thru on the International Space Station — that might offer a little clue — but in the report, no astronauts are even named.

If I’m interpreting the story correctly, flight surgeons and other astronauts noticed it but they were allowed aboard anyway. I thought the duty of a flight surgeon was to do a bit more than just hold a ‘nauts head over the toilet and then drive ’em to the launch pad, but I imagine that’s part of what is being investigated here.

All things being equal, I’d rather have drunk people in orbit than on the highway. Besides, I’ll not be hypocritical and cast an accusatory finger at anybody, even assuming this story is true, as the only way I’d ever even think about climbing atop a rocket would be if I was completely snockered.

NASA’s immediate problem is really in figuring out who sabotaged a computer — and I’m guessing that person was completely sober.

Moving on — in related news, NASA announced they have received Ted Kennedy’s astronaut application form.

Monday's Column: Earmarks R Us — Plus, a Photo Op With Cindy Sheehan Goes Awry

Last week, a House committee pushed through the defense bill, and attached 1,776 earmarks to it. What were they for? I have no idea, because most of them weren’t in non-bureaucrat language. I did, however, attempt to boil some of them down to basic English, with limited success.

Click here for the story in “Piercing the swollen earmarks.”

And now for something completely different…

Completely unrelated to today’s column, but worth a mention nonetheless is this — Pamela, who runs the Atlas Shrugs blog, recently had a little photo op with Cindy Sheehan, and it doesn’t look like Pamela’s a fan:

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Stop being so shy and tell us how you really feel.

Take a look at all the pictures taken at a rally yesterday and you’ll see why Pamela’s middle finger is probably suffering from exhaustion today.

Monday’s Column: Earmarks R Us — Plus, a Photo Op With Cindy Sheehan Goes Awry

Last week, a House committee pushed through the defense bill, and attached 1,776 earmarks to it. What were they for? I have no idea, because most of them weren’t in non-bureaucrat language. I did, however, attempt to boil some of them down to basic English, with limited success.

Click here for the story in “Piercing the swollen earmarks.”

And now for something completely different…

Completely unrelated to today’s column, but worth a mention nonetheless is this — Pamela, who runs the Atlas Shrugs blog, recently had a little photo op with Cindy Sheehan, and it doesn’t look like Pamela’s a fan:

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Stop being so shy and tell us how you really feel.

Take a look at all the pictures taken at a rally yesterday and you’ll see why Pamela’s middle finger is probably suffering from exhaustion today.

General George S. Beagle

Normally I try to stick to discussing current events here, but I couldn’t help myself with this one.

My 12-year-old son Ryan took a shamelessly staged picture of our dog Timmy on Sunday that later reminded me of what could pass for a canine’s answer to the opening sequence of a famous movie.

First, the original version:

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And then the dog version:

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“Rommel, you magnificent bastard, I humped your leg!

Bonds One Away From *755

nullAs time goes by, it seems as if there are fewer and fewer sports achievements that are universally acknowledged and recognized. Seemingly everything has an asterisk next to it, and there’s no end in sight. The “History of Sports” almanac is a full ten pages larger in order to accommodate all the asterisks — or so it would seem.

*Reds win 1919 World Series
*Pete Rose breaks Ty Cobb’s career hit record
*Ben Johnson wins Soule Olympics 100m sprint
*Mark McGwire breaks Babe Ruth’s single season home run record
*The Tour de France has a victor
*Another NBA champion crowned

And now *Barry Bonds is set to break Hank Aaron’s career home run record. Another sports day, another sports asterisk.

The San Francisco Giants play the Florida Marlins at 4 ET today. Judging by how many pitchers have been working around Bonds (Dontrelle Willis being a recent notable exception), not wanting to be the answer to a trivia question of “who gave up the record-setting home run,” it looks as if opposing pitchers are doing a little aster-risk management.

So the debate rages on as to whether or not the asterisk belongs next to Bonds’ soon to be record. If it does belong there, the opposing pitchers don’t seem to see it.

Hairline Fractures: John Edwards Cracks Up Wife Elizabeth

“Kama Sutra manual? Check. Bain de Soleil? Check. Astroglide? Check. Sledge hammer? Ch… what?

The story behind how Elizabeth Edwards discovered her cancer revolved around it being found after seeking medical treatment for a broken rib after an apparent overzealous hug from her husband, but now John Edwards is cranking up the machismo machine, and hinting that her rib broke during a more intimate moment.

No, Elizabeth wasn’t riding shotgun during an ambulance chase gone awry — John was, uh, well let’s just say he was doing to her what his policies would do to the country if he’s elected president.

Mr. Edwards, if you’re breaking her ribs, you’re doing it wrong. That’s all I’m sayin’.

Many politicians try to get the macho thing going on. Often the results can be somewhat embarrassing:

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As for Edwards, I doubt that virtually admitting to sexual spousal abuse will fly with the feminist voters, but it might be worth a try. After all, Hillary’s people are angry about any hint of sexuality in their campaign, so somebody’s got to pick up the slack.

Okay, Mr. Edwards. Thanks to the Esquire interview, you’ve moved up a notch on the manhood scale. Now hurry along or you’ll be late for your appointment at Pink Sapphire.

Dirty Words You Can Say on Television

The FCC is famous for levying heavy fines for stations putting anything on the air that is remotely outside of their “decency” guidelines, but they have recently approved a television station on Maui with call letters that — well, let’s just say, is a homonym that if spoken will get you slapped to death at the ladies auxiliary luncheon.

I give you the new FCC-approved television station, KUNT-TV.

This poses couple of questions: 1) How much should the FCC fine itself for this vulgar travesty? And 2) How long before the station’s t-shirt sales eclipse their on-air advertising revenue?