Bush Got the Right Man for the Job

They needed a new chef at the White House, so they hired the author of Desserts for Dummies.

I wonder if their next hire will be the author of "Entrees for Lying War Criminals".

99 Bottles of Beer on the Blog - Three Philosophers Belgian Style Blend

Wow. This is an incredible beer - rich, complex, strong, sophisticated. It is a blend of cherry lambic and a dark belgian ale, and they complement each other wonderfully.

There's a recent commercial in which a group of men purport to issue a "man law" against fruit in beer. Three Philosophers is a demonstration in just how little the South African makers of Miller Light know about great beer. The presence of cherries in beer has a long history in Belgium. and they add a tart counterpoint to the rich malty sweetness of this very big (9.8% ABV) ale.

Unlike some beer with fruit, this beer is incredibly balanced - the cherry is only one element of its flavor. It has a rich, chocolatey taste as well, with a touch of sourness and just enough hop bitterness to keep the sweetness in check.

Belgian-style ales are my favorite beers in the world, and this one is produced by one of the best Belgian-style breweries outside of Belgium. The Ommegang Brewery of Cooperstown, NY has been brewing great beers for years, and it refuses to rest on its laurels. Their Ommegang Abbey ale is one of the best beers in the world, in my opinion, and definitely the best beer for the dollar I've ever found. One of their bottles, retailing under $5, is a worthy match for any import you can find at twice (or more) the price.

According to one website, "Three Philosophers is a remarkable limited edition strong ale brewed by Brewery Ommegang in response to a home brewer’s description of his dream beer. Realbeer.com, the internet’s largest beer website, hosted a contest called 'Create a Great Beer.' Brewery Ommegang was chosen by Realbeer.com to brew the Belgian-style ale for the winning essayist. Noel Blake, a home brewer from Portland wrote the winning description for what his 'dream beer' would be like."

That's a cool story, and I'm not surprised that this unique and wonderful beer has roots in the world of homebrewing. Put your prejudices against fruit in beer aside, and give Three Philosophers a try.

Just Because . . .

In Memory of W. B. Yeats

by W.H. Auden

I

He disappeared in the dead of winter:

The brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted,

And snow disfigured the public statues;

The mercury sank in the mouth of the dying day.

What instruments we have agree

The day of his death was a dark cold day.



Far from his illness

The wolves ran on through the evergreen forests,

The peasant river was untempted by the fashionable quays;

By mourning tongues

The death of the poet was kept from his poems.



But for him it was his last afternoon as himself,

An afternoon of nurses and rumours;

The provinces of his body revolted,

The squares of his mind were empty,

Silence invaded the suburbs,

The current of his feeling failed; he became his admirers.



Now he is scattered among a hundred cities

And wholly given over to unfamiliar affections,

To find his happiness in another kind of wood

And be punished under a foreign code of conscience.

The words of a dead man

Are modified in the guts of the living.



But in the importance and noise of to-morrow

When the brokers are roaring like beasts on the floor of the Bourse,

And the poor have the sufferings to which they are fairly accustomed,

And each in the cell of himself is almost convinced of his freedom,

A few thousand will think of this day

As one thinks of a day when one did something slightly unusual.



What instruments we have agree

The day of his death was a dark cold day.

II.

You were silly like us; your gift survived it all:

The parish of rich women, physical decay,

Yourself. Mad Ireland hurt you into poetry.

Now Ireland has her madness and her weather still,

For poetry makes nothing happen: it survives

In the valley of its making where executives

Would never want to tamper, flows on south

From ranches of isolation and the busy griefs,

Raw towns that we believe and die in; it survives,

A way of happening, a mouth.

III.

Earth, receive an honoured guest:

William Yeats is laid to rest.

Let the Irish vessel lie

Emptied of its poetry.



In the nightmare of the dark

All the dogs of Europe bark,

And the living nations wait,

Each sequestered in its hate;



Intellectual disgrace

Stares from every human face,

And the seas of pity lie

Locked and frozen in each eye.



Follow, poet, follow right

To the bottom of the night,

With your unconstraining voice

Still persuade us to rejoice;



With the farming of a verse

Make a vineyard of the curse,

Sing of human unsuccess

In a rapture of distress;



In the deserts of the heart

Let the healing fountain start,

In the prison of his days

Teach the free man how to praise.

My Weekend of Suburbia

I'll admit to a generous dash of midtown myopia. I occasionally think that people who regularly subject themselves to long commutes, short trees and mega malls tend to be slaves to convention or afraid of poor people. I'm not trying to pick a fight here - I know these are ugly stereotypes that are correct no more than around 75% of the time . . .

Anyhow, this was a weekend of visiting suburbia, and it was shockingly tolerable. On Saturday, we ventured into the Wyandotte Retail Wonderland, and spent money at a store large enough to house an aircraft carrier or two. We ate lunch at a fake Irish pub, but the food was good, and it offered the first Boulevard Irish Ale I've seen this season, so I'm not going to complain.

On Saturday, we had dinner with friends north of the river, at a chain restaurant called Bonefish. Nothing makes a midtowner twitch quite like a chain restaurant. The corporate-approved "atmosphere", the rigidly controlled plating, the whole genericness (genericity?) of the experience makes us feel like tools, on top of the guilt of spending serious restaurant dollars at a place that isn't Aixois, or Lill's on 17th, or any one of dozens of authentic Kansas City restaurants that need and deserve our support. But, I'll admit it - the food was good, the service was fine, and the prices weren't out of line. It was a perfectly adequate meal in a strip mall.

On Sunday, following the race, I drove out to Blue Springs and drove through a subdivision full of vertically-sided houses on cul-de-sacs. I'm trying to come up with something positive, or at least non-snide, but I'm stumped. The only thing I know they had a lot of is wind, but it was too cold for kite-flying.

I'm back in my midtown home this morning. I hope I don't have to drive more than 5 miles again for a couple months . . .

Survived it

For those who are wondering if I could haul this carcass over 5 subterranean kilometers, the answer is yes. But it took a loooooooooonnnnnnnnnggggggggg time.

Funniest Muslim-Bashing Miscue Ever

Normally, it simply makes me sad to see Americans demonize Muslims. It reminds me of the way we hated the Huns, and the evil Japs, and the godless commies, and every other sociopolitical enemy we have faced over the years. All of our enemies have been bizarre, unthinking, insanely evil people with whom one could not reason. Until the conflict is over, and we find that they are pretty much like us, and excellent trading partners.

But now it is the Arabs we must hate, because they all want to strap bombs on their chests and suicide bomb us because they hate our freedom. Those other times we were told that our enemies were horrible people totally unlike us - well, we were wrong then. But now it's the truth.

It's sad and pathetic and disgusting. Won't get fooled again, indeed.

But today I saw a bit of Muslim bashing that was so beautiful that it shimmered in its ironic light. Marty Peretz, the hawkish owner/editor of the New Republic, managed to pen these immortal words, mocking Tom Friedman's attempts to find peace-loving Muslims:

Poor Tom Friedman. He is looking for a Muslim Martin Luther King. There is none, Tom. If one were living on earth, they'd break his windows. Imprison him. Or kill him. Finished.

Can you imagine a religion whose people would imprison a Martin Luther King? Or kill him?

How can we ever find common ground with these beasts?

Hat tip to Matthew Yglesias.

New Kid in Town - Ancillary Adams

Ancillary Adams is a new local blogger, and it will be interesting to see what directions he takes. So far, he's already proposed a new state slogan - "We're unbuckling the Bible Belt!", and speculated that, if jurors in the Scooter Libby trial are being dismissed because they are hostile toward the Bush administration, they may not be able to find a jury - " I can't think of anything more surreal and yet appropriate than Libby getting off because the president has angered every single American to the point that they are unfit for the jury. There are still some holdouts, but Libby's lawyers ought to be looking for a continuance. Time would surely be on their side."

Things Not to Worry About

DJ Drummond, over at Stolen Thunder, worries that, in the future, people are going to pretend that they stood with W, when, in fact, only a handful of "dead-enders" like himself continue to approve of his performance. He writes, "I am writing today’s piece as something of a bookmark. The day most certainly will come, when many pretend that they stood with President Bush. But only those who stand with him now can honestly claim that honor."

DJ, stop worrying about this. Rest assured, it isn't going to happen. I will not claim that "honor".

While it remains a theoretical possibility that Bush could do something right and win my approval at a later date (deliver himself bound and gagged to a war crimes tribunal? invent a time machine and go back to tell the Supreme Court to let the votes decide who won the election? break down into tears during the State of the Union speech, beg our forgiveness and pledge to devote the rest of his life to progressive causes?), I want to be crystal clear that if, in the future, I claim to have been a Bush supporter on or before January 23 of 2007, I deserve to be ridiculed and scorned as a liar.

EMERGENCY! (?) Why Does Kansas City Think Snow is an Emergency?

Joe Miller does a great piece on the foolishness of paying for snow removal out of emergency funds - a practice exposed and criticized by Mark Funkhouser.

Sicko Recruitment Strategy

Media Lies started as a sincere but misguided website focused on the the old "liberal media" lie. It has not gone well for the site, as the author has been suckered in by a host of bogus right-wing canards and apocryphal email glurge. I don't know how many visitors he gets anymore, but nobody comments, and people who bother to rate his posts give them low marks.

The stress is apparently getting to the author. In one of the more unhinged and sick statements ever to come from somebody not named Limbaugh, Coulter or Malkin, yesterday he wrote, "I have always said that the fastest way to make a liberal into a conservative is to rape his wife and kill his children."

I'm speechless.

Almost.

How screwed up is that? What kind of thought process leads you to this kind of sickness? Perhaps, if something so utterly awful happened to me and my family, I would snap and become a lesser person, but I hope not.

I certainly don't think that you have to have something awful happen in your life to become a liberal - simply caring about the difficulties faced by others has sufficed for most of us. I guess Anti Media thinks it takes PTSD to make a conservative.

There's more. For the past couple weeks, he has been tirelessly promoting what he calls an "Appeal for Redress", which is intended to gather "tens of thousands of signatures of patriotic American military" in answer to "paltry" thousand military personnel who signed a petition calling for withdrawal from Iraq. So far, he has gathered 4 signatures. Compared to a "paltry thousand" troops he calls "cowards and fools". 4.

I guess planning for the troops is not a strength for the right wing.

Groundhog Run Next Week

Next week I will be running (or, more likely, walking) in the 25th Annual Groundhog Run in the Hunt Metropolis - the largest race in the world run completely underground. Even though the snow outside is piling up, I know that the temperature for the run will be an even 65-72 degrees.

More importantly, the race will benefit Children's TLC Easter Seals, a charity I've long admired. The work done by the people there is amazing. They change people's lives there - teaching severely disabled and typically developing kids and helping them lead happy and productive lives.

If you feel like doing something to help a great cause, come out and run or walk (signup here) or email me at dan@gonemild.com for information on how to donate.

Mel Solomon - Classless

I just received a call from Mel Solomon, one of the people running in the 4th District City Council race. Mel rattled on for several minutes about how he is an architect (who cares?) and how he has lived in the area for "a hundred years" (no, that's Wheeler) and how a bunch of architects are supporting him (again, who cares? Mr. Brady was the last architect I paid any attention to), etc. He had me bored after the first 30 seconds, and made the call more tedious by then trying to figure out exactly where my house is located.

Finally, after way too much goofy small talk, during which I reminded him that we have met, he said he is running for City Council. I asked whether he was running in-district or at-large, and he replied that he is running in-district. I politely thanked him for running, and said I appreciated his willingness to serve, but that I am supporting Mark Forsythe. He was shocked.

"Really?," he asked. "How do you know Mark?"

"Well, I met him and had coffee with him to talk about his approach on the issues. And I read his blog pretty regularly."

His voice registered disgust. "You've read his blog, and you're still supporting him? It seems pretty negative to me."

"It's not negative at all. He talks realistically about the issues in Kansas City."

"Well, he's not really much of a candidate - he won't be in the race for long. I've raised $75,000, and he's only raised $5,000."

"That's great for you, but Mark is running a heck of a campaign, and I think he'll surprise you."

"Now, I do have a formidable opponent, but that's Jan Marcason."

"Yeah, I saw her signs around this weekend. I've heard nice things about her, but I prefer Forsythe."

"Well, I hope you'll support me after the primary."

"We'll see, Mel."

What an ass! I've only reported part of the conversation - I was unfailingly polite, and he just wanted to talk smack on the person I am supporting. He also surprised me with his lack of local political knowledge - he thought that the Committee for County Progress had folded, for example.

When he heard that I am supporting Mark Forsythe, he should have retained a shred of dignity and gotten off the phone. Instead, he showed himself to be a classless jerk. Not at all the sort of person I want to vote for, or talk to on the phone.

Kids, Food, and Work

It's really a simple thing - something that probably shouldn't even register on my brain beyond a quick synapse flash that fades almost instantly. Sam got a job working at a bakery in New York.

But, in the over-active mind of a parent, it triggers a host of thoughts and impressions.

First, I'm happy he gets to work at this particular restaurant. The Bouchon Bakery sounds like a great place to eat and work. Working in one of celebrity-chef Thomas Keller's restaurants - he'll be getting some experience at the height of foodiness.

Second, I'm incredibly proud of him for wanting the job. He's always been one to seek work, rather than hit us up for money. When he was a teenager, he bussed tables at Sharp's Grill in Brookside, and then talked his way into a job washing windows at the Reading Reptile. From the time he was 14, he's gone to school with a whole lot of very privileged children, and he has never been one to whine or demand. Instead, he gets himself up early in the morning and goes to work.

Third, he should be able to make some pretty decent money at the restaurant, which makes a lengthy return home much less likely. Having this experience means that he will always be able to find a decent-paying job in any city. A great apartment in Manhattan, a decent job, and all that New York offers to a 21 year-old culture junky - the nest feels a little emptier today. That's great, and I'm happy for him, but I'm just sayin' . . .

Fourth, it sounds like an over-the-top place. His interview was a three-hour performance, watching and helping out on occasion. This is for an entry-level job in a bakery!

Fifth, it's funny to see what a foodie Sam has become. Both kids have always been open to trying all kinds of food. Fettucini alfredo was just fancy mac cheese to them. Indian restaurants are family favorites. When they've cooked for the family, they've chosen challenging recipes and pulled them off with aplomb. I was a picky eater growing up - thank God I was blessed with such open-minded and sophisticated children!

Sixth, Sam got the interview by writing an eye-catching cover letter, and he got the job by going out and buying good black pants for the interview and restaurant-quality shoes. We didn't tell him to do that - the kid has turned out to have life skills and good judgment beyond what any parent can really teach. As a parent, that's about the most gratifying thing you can see . . .

Seventh, Ali got a job on campus this week. Without a car, and without public transportation up and running in New Orleans, she's taking on an office job. It won't have much glamour or fun, but it's what she can do right now, so she's doing it. Her good attitude and work ethic make me confident she'll have better jobs in the future.
----
So, a couple new jobs that probably aren't worthy of comment provoke a bunch of thoughts in a parent. I probably need a hobby . . .

Ten Cup Half Empty

Sad news. I received an email announcing that the Ten Cup, an innovative and charitably-inclined coffee shop at 59th and Holmes, has closed. They distributed 10% of their profits to charities, but there just wasn't enough profit to make a go of it.

I admire the effort, and enjoyed the coffee while it was there. I hate the fact that I was correct in the pessimism I expressed in my review of the place just over a year ago - "The intersection of two lane roads in a part of town most people have never visited and most wrongly assume is a "bad" neighborhood is not an auspicious place to start a business that relies on a high volume of customers forking over under $5 each. . . .
To sum up, I think the place deserves some support, but I'm not optimistic that it will get it."

Email me if you want to hire me for entrepreneurial consultations . . .

Who's Your Mama? - Blogger Ethics & Local Politics (Or - Meet the New Boss, Same as the Old Boss)

Tony has built one of the largest audiences in the local blog world, mostly through intemperate and dead-on humor. His is one of those sites that has me thinking "I can't believe I laughed at that," after I spew coffee in response to some bit of outrageously funny misogyny or racism. But those of us who have been reading him for a long time appreciate his brand of humor, and, if you don't like it, you're reading the wrong page.

Lately, though, he's been focusing his contempt upon a particular person - Beth Gottstein. Beth's running for City Council (4th District, at large), and she's an acquaintance I've always liked. But Tony has been trashing her as aggressively as possible - falsely implying she's an alcoholic, hinting that she's slutty, and lying about how long she has lived in Kansas City. The hit parade is compiled at the Pitch this week, and it reveals a sustained effort at character assassination intimidating in its freedom from restraint.

(It's funny - if you go back to the first of these diatribes, I show up in the comments, naively asking why people were bashing Beth Gottstein. Nobody had a substantive answer.)

Eventually, somebody called and filled me in. Tony was trying to tear Beth down because his mom is going to get into the race. I emailed Tony to ask whether the accusation was true, but he never responded. (About the same time, he stopped linking to my posts on his blog, but I have no idea whether that is retribution for knowing the truth, or simply not finding anything I've written link-worthy. Either is plausible.)

So. What we have here is the biggest presence on the local blog scene, using the power of his podium as aggressively and nastily as he possibly can, to undermine a candidate who opposes someone to whom he has an undisclosed relationship. Wow. How far "citizen journalism" has come - we've managed to become even more corrupt than the corporate media.

Now, don't get me wrong. Tony and I have the right to post whatever we want on our pages, within the almost non-existent bounds of the law. Heck, I called Bush "lizardlike" in the previous post, and called a long list of local school districts "red necks" in the post before that. The blog world is not a well-mannered tea party.

But, as this episode demonstrates, bloggers are also not above secret conflicts of interest. Don't mistake bluntness for candor. Don't mistake humor for honesty. And, most certainly, don't mistake blogs for news.

Rich Little?! Was Flip Wilson (and Geraldine) Too Controversial?

I know a lot of younger people read this blog. I know a lot of you are confused today, because some guy named Rich Little has been selected to fill Steve Colbert's shoes at the White House Correspondents Dinner. To understand, you'll have to have a brief history lesson.

Rich Little was funny back when we had a Republican in the White House who was losing his mind and who provoked a Constitutional crisis. Even when faced with a slimey crook like Dick Nixon, Rich Little poked gentle fun through impersonation. Nothing at all like Colbert's brutally hilarious lampooning of Bush last year.

So, now that we have another Republican as outright lizardlike as Nixon, it's time to bring back Rich Little.

Old people like us have lived through this history once before.

Want a List of Redneck Schools?

I was shocked to see the number of school cancellations this morning. People, it's Martin Luther King, Jr. Day!! You shouldn't be having school in the first place!

For your edification, here's the list of redneck schools from KMBZ:

ADRIAN R-3

APPLETON CITY R-2

BALLARD R-2

BETHEL CHRISTIAN ACADEMY

CAMERON R-1

CHILLICOTHE R-2

CLINTON COUNTY DISTRICT 124

COMMUNITY CHRISTIAN ACADEMY

CREST RIDGE R-7

FRIENDS UNIVERSITY (Jackson County and Lenexa)

HALE R-1

HAMILTON R-2

HENRY COUNTY R-1 at Windsor

HUME R-8

JAYHAWK-LINN USD 346

KINGSTON SCHOOL DISTRICT

LAKELAND R-3

LEESVILLE R-9

MAYSVILLE R-1

MEADVILLE R-4

NORTHWEST MISSOURI STATE (Jackson County)

OTTAWA CHRISTIAN ACADEMY

PLEASANTON USD 344

POLO R-7

RICH HILL R-4

SHERWOOD/CASS R-8

SOUTHVIEW CHRISTIAN

SOUTHWEST LIVINGSTON COUNTY R-1

SUNSHINE SCHOOL in Independence opening at 9 o'clock

TINA-AVALON R-2

TRI-CITY CHRISTIAN SCHOOL in Jackson County

UNIVERSAL ACADEMY on Grandview Rd.

Lill's on 17th - Support Your Local Restaurants

Recently, we've dined a couple times at Lill's on 17th Street*. It's a tiny place, with eight tables attended to by a wonderful staff in a funky little building just west of the Blue Bird Bistro. The food has been superb. The wine list is thoughtful and inexpensive - though it could use a couple high-end, well-chosen beers to complete its appeal.

So far, I've seen the filet, the special chicken enchiladas, the special beef stew, and the salmon salad for entrees. Each of them was perfectly prepared and truly world-class. But, the star of the show for me is their tapas. The stuffed mushrooms were bleu-cheese and bacon wonders. The potatoes in garlic aioli, though, were possibly the best potatoes of any sort that this Irishman has ever tasted.

The only down note to my experiences there has been the lack of company. Both nights, there were several empty tables, which, in a restaurant with only 8 tables, is frightening. How long can we expect to have wonderful, quirky, one-of-a-kind restaurants in Kansas City if we pack into national chains like McCormick and Schmick's but ignore our home-grown gems?

*Formerly known as Lillie's, until some insane jackass from the similarly-named styrofoam corporate coffee shop at the Marriott whined to some lawyer who deserves our sympathy for being stuck doing crap work for insane jackasses. New Years' resolution - never set foot in the Marriott coffee shop again.

**We've been waited upon by the charming and award-winning artist Bryn Hughes both times we've been there. She and some friends have opened a gallery at 923 W. 17th Street called "The Syringe". Support your local artists, too!

Somewhat Serious Question for NRA Types

What, other than trying to prevent carnage in our homes and on our streets, does it take to piss you people off?

If I type "Ban all handguns now", I can count on a series of websites to echo my blasphemy and arrange a well-regulated electronic militia to come here and correct my misguided notion that life is more precious than a warm gun, because a well-armed citizenry is the last bulwark against tyranny.

My question today, though, is what will it take to get you guys off your couches and protecting us?

The FBI is gathering our bank records.

The NSA is listening to our phone calls.

Bush is reading our mail.

The ballot box is being replaced by paperless, tamper-friendly computers controlled by corporations.

The president is on the news calling the majority of Americans who disagree with his Iraq escalation "irresponsible."

He can lock you away in Guantanamo or in former Soviet-bloc prisons without charges or recourse.

Well???

My understanding is that you guys think we should accept the occasional hot-headed murder or too-easy teen suicide or family member blown away by mistake because you guys are going to protect us from our government.

I'm starting to wonder what it's going to take for you guys to get pissed off. Other than people like me questioning why you need assault rifles.

Politics and Dying in Cochabamba

A little over a year ago, I spend a couple weeks in Cochabamba, Bolivia. It was a colorful, good-humored place, with kind people, beautiful old buildings and sweet children. It was a life-changing trip, and I want to go back.

But now, in the streets we walked through looking for saltenas, there are thousands of people gathering in protest. Two people are dead forever, and over a hundred are wounded. Thugs beat women with clubs. I cannot explain the roots or meaning of this frightening ugliness, and I know too little (or too much) to view this through the lens of either side.

If you pray, please consider praying for the country, state, city and people of Cochabamba, Bolivia. Here are a few pictures, but they are of the Cochabamba I saw.

Funk, Authenticity, and the Cheesecake Factory

Let's take a little test. Which makes you feel better about being a Kansas Citian - Olive Garden or Garozzo's? Wendy's or Winstead's? Famous Dave's Barbecue Ribs or Arthur Bryant's? The Cheesecake Factory or Foo's Fabulous Frozen Custard? Budweiser or Boulevard?

If you're the sort of person who picked the second choice on most of those questions, you need to be looking at Mark Funkhouser as your candidate for Mayor of Kansas City.

I support downtown redevelopment - I really do. But, when push comes to shove, I know that the downtown redevelopment is going to produce a generic product of nationwide crap that will leave visitors wondering which mid-range touristy hell-hole they've wandered into.

And, today, the Star reports that even the Greater Kansas City Chamber of Commerce - the Chamber of Commerce, for Pete's sake! - has issued a report saying that all of the drunken-sailor subsidies for out-of-state billionaires is putting Kansas City's streets, parks, and basic services at risk.

We're already on the hook for downtown, so we have to make it a success. Mark Funkhouser knows that, and will make it happen. As the Chamber study makes clear, we've put all our eggs in one basket, and now we have to watch that basket very carefully.

The ironic thing is that the things that make this city truly great are damaged by the things that make this city mediocre. Troost Avenue is the coolest, up-and-coming boulevard in the city - with hardly a nod from the powers-that-be. 17th and Summit - a block from Funkhouser's HQ, is a thriving block with two of the greatest restaurants in Kansas City right there, without even a tiny fraction of the money spent on 18th and Vine.

Real development happens organically. Nobody planned the 39th Street boom. Westport was a cluster of symbiotic bars and businesses that took off and became a heart of the city. The Crossroads area has thrived despite City Hall's best efforts to kill it.

A central question of this mayoral election is how you want Kansas City to grow. If you want Kansas City to be planned in a New York City boardroom, then go ahead and pick any of the other candidates. Any of them will suffice as a rah-rah puppet of the huge business interests that would give us Famous Dave's instead of Li'l Jake's Eat it an' Beat it.

But Funkhouser stands for a different kind of development. Give Kansas Citians decent services, with smooth streets, reasonable police response, and trash pick-up, and Kansas Citians will give you small businesses employing people and paying taxes. Those taxes will maintain the level of service that will enable other Kansas Citians to create the kind of city we will all be proud of.

Today was a big day for the Funkhouser mayoral race. 3 of his opponents (Brooks, Fairfield and Eddy) actually voted for declaring Briarcliff (Briarcliff!!) to be a blighted area, so it would qualify for incredible tax breaks. Mark used his considerable good judgment and political skills to set himself apart from the field, and show that he is the candidate who will bring us responsible development and a healthier city.

I'm toasting Funkhouser with a Boulevard tonight.

Bonb of Sitcheb!

It's not really that I think there is a conspiracy among the corporate media and right-wing scumbags that echo it to tie Barack Obama to Osama bin Laden through bogus "typogrpahical errors". Any typist would understand how the "b" key could be switched with the "s" key - even though they are typed by different fingers in different rows on the keyboard.

I just think they are bonb of sitcheb.

Cross-X, by Joe Miller

I finished Joe Miller's Cross-X last night. Joe is one of the old-line Kansas City bloggers, and I recall reading about the birth pangs of this book on his blog - Kansas City Soil.

When I picked up the book, I didn't really care about debate. My high school didn't have a debate squad. Once, when I was in law school, I was asked to judge a debate tournament, with assurances that my lack of experience and knowledge would not hamper my ability to do a good job. Those assurances were lies - I was baffled by the rapid-fire reading of materials and the utter lack of persuasiveness demonstrated.

But Cross-X is about high school debate, and it lures you in through crisp, clean writing and compelling characters. It's kind of a "Friday Night Lights" of debating - human drama and competitive drama in the context of complex societal issues. You learn about the family background of the kids, and you also learn about the desegregation case and the history of black education in Kansas City. You suffer the suspense of waiting for judges to tally their scores, and you cheer for the children of drug addicts to defeat the children of privilege.

The book is set in Kansas City, and I am certain that some of my enjoyment came from that fact. I've been to Central High School, I've met several of the "characters" in the book, I've developed a nodding acquaintance with the author, I know the intersections he describes. Marcus Leach, the most-discussed debater in the book, was a year ahead of Sam while he attended the Kansas City public schools.

But the joy of the book is not the familiar - the joy of the book is how well it stretches our understanding of the unfamiliar. By the end of the book, I was well-briefed on issues in contemporary debate. More importantly, I had walked enough miles to really struggle with racism and class bias in a new and deeper manner.

Had I read the closing chapters first, with their consideration of whether a line of argument amounted to "Let me win because I'm poor and black," I would have closed the book and thought that it amounted to a bad mockery of one of Lewis Diuguid's more strident offerings. But, having been led to that point by a masterful writer and a gripping story, I was able to read and understand from a much more open point of view than when I started the book.

How could bright, young, black students abandon their opportunity to compete at the highest national level of debate, where they would almost certainly be offered scholarships to college? By the end of the book, you'll understand. You may agree or disagree - you may argue the affirmative or the negative - but you'll undertand. When I started the book, I couldn't have understood that.

Joe Miller's Cross-X got me there.

Faint Praise

On Monday, I brewed up a batch of beer, and used some of the spent grains, together with some of the wort, to make a batch of whole wheat bread, without relying on a recipe. Unfortunately, I may have prioritized the health factor over the flavor and texture factors, and produced a dense, uneven loaf without much flavor.

Ali, in response to my confession that the bread wasn't very good, offered the soothing words - "Dad, you've made much worse bread than this . . ."