Guess who is responsible for the above quote. Is it:

a.) Jacques Chirac
b.) Fidel Castro
c.) Vladimir Putin
d.) Captain Jean-Luc Picard

(Hint: The answer can be added to the list of reasons why Kirk was the better Starship captain.)

The answer is of course d., Captain Picard, lesser known as accented actor and British bore Patrick Stewart. The quote is from an interview Stewart gave to the now-defunct George magazine back in 2000. His candid comments inspire a few of my own: “A lot of your movies stink. Your career focus is based on money. TV viewers found your robot more interesting than you.”

I had remembered part of Stewart’s old George quote while researching actors and the irritating things they say. Originally, I had a different piece in mind entirely, but for some reason when I was finished I found that I’d wound up with a list top heavy with British actors who have made lots of money in America. The rest, lamentably, is not silence.

We nerds who grew up before VCRs had to learn Monty Python routines by heart from grainy PBS reruns. In addition to Python we had Leonard Rossiter’s brilliant title character in both The Rise and Fall and The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin, The Goodies, Fawlty Towers and, later on, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and Blackadder. In those days all we had were the actors and their shows; there wasn’t an Internet to memorialize their every dopey off-screen utterance. Now all I can say is these guys sure make it tough to be an anglophile TV viewer in the 21st Century.

Monty Python’s Terry Jones, a once very funny man who has become the worst kind of dull, aging comedian, writes occasionally for The Observer in England. In a piece from 2002 entitled “Okay, George, make with the friendly bombs” he turns his tired satiric eye on President George W. Bush, Iraq and the larger War on Terror.

“To prevent terrorism by dropping bombs on Iraq is such an obvious idea,” he sarcastically begins, “that I can’t think why no one has thought of it before.”

The article takes the Bush Administration’s Iraq strategy and transplants it to Northern Ireland, thus proving… Actually, I don’t know what it proves, because the situation in Northern Ireland is entirely unlike that in Iraq and the larger Middle East, circa 2002. Except, inasmuch the terrorists in Northern Ireland share a cozy relationship with those in the Mideast, bombing Iraq could actually have helped to promote peace in Northern Ireland. But I don’t think that’s what “Fat Boring Old Git” (Python fans will get that, as will anyone who has seen Terry Jones lately) was going for.

Jones ends his sidesplitting piece, “So, sock it to Iraq, George. Let’s make the world a safer place.”

He did and, nearly a decade on and no thanks to Jones and his fellow travelers, it is.

At least Jones had the decency to mostly disappear thirty years ago, so we can remember him for what he was and not for what he has become. Unfortunately, his fellow Python John Cleese still lingers and occasionally flares up like a stubborn social disease that penicillin just won’t cure. In a recent interview (available on YouTube) Cleese reveals himself to be not only the condescending, irrelevant gasbag he’s been for decades, but a sufferer of Bush Derangement Syndrome. Basil Fawlty decided in the waning days of the Bush presidency that “the world is treating America now…like the village idiot of the international community” and that “the world thought (the 2000 election) was probably stolen.” He then launches into the usual black helicopter lunacy about Jeb Bush helping to steal Florida and sinister Bush 41 being the former head of the “Secret Service” (sic). But not to worry. The problems the world has with the US can be, Cleese says, “almost fixed like that by electing Obama, because it really indicates that this is not a backwoods, redneck, racist” country. Apparently Manuel’s frying pan and that falling moose head caused more than just a mild concussion to Mr. Fawlty.

It pains me to include the great Alan Rickman here but, thanks to a nasty comment he made about ill and long-retired Margaret Thatcher on a talk show a few years back, I knew I’d hit pay dirt. A little searching found an interview in Venice Magazine back in 1992 while Rickman was filming Bob Roberts. Rickman agrees with costar Gore Vidal and sums up their shared attitude thus: “We have to create monsters and war in order to justify the arms budget; this year it was Saddam Hussein, before that it was Noriega, before that Khadaffi and before that Castro. It looks like it might be Castro’s turn again soon.” So, Lord Voldemort really isn’t evil to Professor Snape, he’s just been created as a bogeyman by the Ministry of Magic to justify its polyjuice potion budget.

Hugh Laurie has found fame in the U.S. thanks to House, but it’s Blackadder’s idiot Prince George who took the stage to accept his People’s Choice Award in January 2009. From the UK’s Daily Mail:

And in a reference to the November’s election victory by US President-elect, Barack Obama, the 49-year-old actor said: “It’s a particular honour to be the people’s choice especially because the people have been choosing pretty well recently….I don’t know who won this award eight years ago, but that would be sort of double-edged, I think.”

Thank God Laurie’s ego is on the West Coast and Obama’s is on the East. The nation depends on keeping these two enormously inflated heads from meeting on a beach in Malibu lest the entire country flip around and start spinning like an out-of-control gyroscope.

It’s disappointing that so many British actors share the opinions of their battiest American counterparts, but an English accent only makes one smart in the movies. As for real life, is it too much to ask them to button their stiff upper lips when it comes to our politics?

To get back to that old George interview with Patrick Stewart. The erstwhile Professor X also has a final doozy of a quote. It is, he says, “laughable that the U.S. considers itself the land of opportunity.”

I assume, Locutus of Borg, that means you’ll be beaming back those millions of American dollars any day now.

British singer Adele has sparked debate about British’s public services in an interview with Q magazine, covered brilliantly by James Delingpole. The singer said of her taxes, “I’m mortified to have to pay 50 per cent! [While] I use the NHS, I can’t use public transport any more. Trains are always late, most state schools are ––––, and I’ve gotta give you, like, four million quid – are you having a laugh? When I got my tax bill in from [her album] 19, I was ready to go and buy a gun and randomly open fire.”

In other news, Adele’s albums are currently available wherever music is sold.

Hipster music journalists have fallen head over heels for a shock-mongering rap group known as Odd Future, led by “Tyler, the Creator,” whose first label-released album Goblin has earned accolades hand-in-hand with feeble excuses for its deeply nihilistic, violently misogynistic lyrics. Canadian singer Sara Quin of the indie band Tegan & Sara published an open letter on her blog pushing back against justifications of Tyler’s indefensible bile. Quin cut right to the heart of the issue– fear of the race card:

If any of the bands whose records are held in similar esteem as Goblin had lyrics littered with rape fantasies and slurs, would they be labeled hate mongers? I realize I could ask that question of DOZENS of other artists, but is Tyler exempt because people are afraid of the backlash?The inevitable claim that detractors are being racist, or the brush-off that not “getting it” would indicate that you’re “old” (or a faggot)? Because, the more I think about it, the more I think people don’t actually want to go up against this particular bully because he’s popular.

In other news, Tegan & Sara albums are currently available wherever music is sold.

Electronic musician Moby announced in April that he would begin a hunger strike to protest GOP cuts to the federal budget. Now, I’m not gonna say that it didn’t get any results whatsoever, but Moby has lately chosen a different target to get himself in headlines. Trashing the beyond-easy targets presented by pop stars Ke$ha, Rihanna, Britney Spears, et. al., he declared, “Music is something that communicates emotion and integrity in a really interesting, direct way… the pop music you’re describing, it’s hyper-produced corporate product. That isn’t really even a criticism, but I just think calling it music is a misnomer… It’s advertising for ringtones.”

That’s coming from the man whose lead single for his new album is… this:

In other news, anyone else’s albums are currently available wherever music is sold.

Album(s) of the Month

Indie folk rockers Fleet Foxes released their sophomore album Helplessness Blues in the first week of May, and indie southern rockers My Morning Jacket released their sixth, Circuital, just this last week. Together, the records create two delightful bookends for the month.

Helplessness Blues is a lush tapestry of detailed textures, yet they’ve managed to cram the kitchen sink into their songs without sacrificing tight structures and gripping melodies. Drawing heavily from Americana, there’s energy and vitality in these songs; they’re nothing like the lifeless, poser hippie jams you hear on community radio. There’s a positivity and celebration of life that undercuts the exhaustion and frustration seen in much of the album’s lyrics, an understanding and reverence for the heartland. And these guys aren’t just studio tricksters; they’re the real deal. Just compare the sound of single “Grown Ocean” in its official music video and a live performance:

Circuital is a rather accessibly unconventional rock album from Kentucky’s My Morning Jacket. Their somewhat-panned 2007 record Evil Urges, which was written off as far more experimental than it actually was, introduced many unpolished ideas that the group has perfected on this latest release– an atmospheric, easygoing experience where rock and country-style guitar licks, orchestral strings, horns, and synthesizer pads all coexist peacefully, and singer Jim James continues his streak of varied, soulful, and breezy vocals. At a tidy 45 minutes, Circuital never hits a boring moment, nor does it settle into autopilot. Despite the laid back mood, there’s passion and skilled craft in each of these songs.

Cross-posted at the Landmark Report.

The Mighty Michael Caine plays the title character, a retired British pensioner who once served as a Marine in Northern Ireland and now resides in a massive, generic, depressing and dirty housing project called The Estate. It’s here that Harry’s life became one of precision and sameness. He wakes, dresses, eats his jelly toast and then walks to a nearby hospital to visit his ailing wife. The most convenient route for this daily commute would be through the tunnel that runs beneath a busy freeway. But that tunnel is constantly infested with a rotating menagerie of dangerous youth gangs looking for a place to hang when not out terrorizing the Estate’s residents.

Because his wife is rarely conscious, Harry’s sole company is Leonard (David Bradley), a widower and fellow pensioner. To wile away the lonely afternoons, the men enjoy quiet, leisurely pints and games of chess at the local pub.  Though the old friends are comfortable in silence, when they do speak it’s frequently about the violence they’re forced to live with. Harry prefers to keep his head down and stay out of trouble. Leonard, however, is tired of being harassed and vows to start fighting back.

When you’re Harry’s age an unexpected knock on the door can only mean bad news. Inspector Alice Frampton (Emily Mortimer), a warm, caring woman who could’ve left this dirty job to a subordinate, informs Harry that Leonard’s been murdered. It’s here that Harry’s outward calmness cracks just enough to make clear that he’s fed up with the inability of the police to stop such open and brazen crime, fed up with the injustice of it all.

**SOME SPOILERS BELOW***

Harry’s first kill is in self defense. Despondent, drunk and on his way home he’s mugged by a knife-wielding junkie. Without even realizing it, Harry’s military reflexes kick in and later the police find the punk dead, stabbed with his own knife.  After this experience, Harry understands his duty and sets out to do it.

The secret to crafting a successful genre picture – in this case a vigilante pic — is to hold tight to the elements people expect and enjoy while at the same time presenting them in a fresh way. First time director David Barber and screenwriter Gary Young obviously understand this. For starters, Harry Brown may be dangerous but he’s no Charles Bronson. He has emphysema and once the chase is on, well, it doesn’t last very long. Secondly, in a memorable interrogation scene, the narrative takes the time to stop and help the audience comprehend the depraved, nihilistic and very dangerous mindset of the villains and why the police – who want to help – cannot.

If this doesn’t convince you a reckoning’s necessary, there’s a later scene, a stunner of a set-piece that takes place in a drug den that further exposes the black, degenerate heart of what the helpless residents of the Estate face daily. Sub-human doesn’t begin to describe them. Time to do what a man’s gotta do. And do it Harry does, in a number of ways that not only brings about an immense amount of satisfaction through the cinematic execution but also in the knowledge that our effete critical class will soon be harrumphing about fascism.

But it’s not fascism. It’s duty. Rather than using old age as an excuse to let loose his inner child, Harry selflessly risks his life to avenge a friend and make life livable again for his neighbors. That’s a noble thing, and thankfully there’s no last second narrative bait and switch. The filmmakers think so too.

The story isn’t perfect. A subplot involving Mortimer’s Inspector and her cold, ambitious boss feels a little out of place – like a movie that couldn’t quite come up with a proper third act. But that’s why you hire a Michael Caine, a movie star’s movie star – an actor’s actor – an extraordinary screen presence who carries in all that hushed stillness an edge of competence and danger. The two-time Academy Award winner grew up in the same housing project “Harry Brown” is set in. So there’s “street” in Sir Michael and bring it to this incredibly satisfying grinder he does, along with all the dignity and force his righteous character deserves.

“Harry Brown” was one of Britain’s biggest hits of the year and is now in limited release here in U.S. Though not as close in spirit to ”Taken” or “Gran Torino,” as you might think (the all kinds of awesome “Death Wish II” comes pretty close), if you enjoyed either, catch Caine if you can.

If only because all the right people don’t want you to.

TV mogul Simon Cowell says tomorrow’s General Election MUST bring change to Britain.

Writing for The Sun, he signals that the country he deeply loves needs a new government to pull it out of crisis.

Cowell, 50, talks of the need to inspire young people and unlock talent, promote family values, stimulate business and reduce knife crime.

He says: “I have always hated celebrities lecturing people on politics. So forgive me. But I am passionate about this country.

“I am equally passionate about the potential of the people who live here.”

Cowell describes Labour’s Gordon Brown as a “sincere man” but says the PM is “tired”.

He warns of the dangers of a hung parliament and casts doubts on the Lib Dems and Nick Clegg, saying: “I worry about a lot of his policies.”

And of Tory leader David Cameron, he says: “I like him, I trust him. He has substance and the stomach to navigate us through difficult times.”

Cowell insists he is NOT telling anyone how to vote. But he calls the poll an “opportunity to bring back common sense” – and give people hope.

Full article is here.

Via Newsbusters:

GAROFALO: The, mostly the media in the States is much more to the right. I mean there is almost no liberal outlet for news commentary or editorializing. …

GAROFALO: Well, I think people like us better now that Obama’s there. It’s a much better representative of the States I think, because George Bush certainly makes it seem like we’re the biggest jerks in the world. And it’s nice to have Obama. But there’s certainly no shortage of still political things to discuss and media things to discuss.

Newsbusters reports that just a few hours later Garofalo walked off stage after failing to win over a UK audience:

Janeane Garofalo cut short her Saturday afternoon set in Latitude’s comedy tent because of the poor reception she was given by the audience. The American comedienne’s rare UK live appearance was expected to be one of the highlights in a strong comic line-up, but she failed to win over the festival crowd.

Best known to TV viewers as talent booker Paula in The Larry Sanders Show and political campaigner Louise in the final series of The West Wing, Garofalo was due perform for half an hour, but left the stage after less than ten minutes when her routine about post-9/11 security checks at airports met with stony silence.

“It’s not you, I blame myself for this,” she said before leaving the stage.

More here.

On the up side, it gave me a chance to study all the people in line.  An occupational habit, I study people wherever I go, particularly when I’m a captive to some long, slow-moving queue.  The line moved so slowly, in fact, that I had the opportunity to memorize what all 32 line-standers were wearing, the color of their hair, the shape of their faces, my best guess at their ethnicity, their height….and as I was starting to indulge myself with guessing each person’s weight and how I would do working at a carnival, my thoughts began to wander.  (Did I mention the line in the post office moved very slowly?)

I had satisfied my fill of people-study; had mentally crowned the Strangest Looking, Most Obese, Most Attractive, and The Most Likely To Use The Word ‘Obsequious’ In A Sentence…and my attention began to wander to the workings inside this post office.  I live in the San Fernando Valley and this post office is smack dab in the middle of a vast inland-empire suburban metropolis.  It serves thousands upon thousands of people…very slowly.  There were three postal workers on duty to serve the public that day.  I should say two postal workers, as one would periodically rotate out for a ten-to-fifteen minute break.  A smoke break, judging from the heavy tobacco smell that accompanied each of their returns to duty.

“Hi, How are you today?” the Postal Worker rasped, as I had finally arrived at the desk.

“Well…I’m a little annoyed to tell you the truth.  I’ve been standing in this very boring line, waiting for all of you to finish your respective cigarettes, pushing my large package along the linoleum, watching you and your co-workers slowly attend to the customers like you’ve got all the time in the world.  Like this is some sort of purgatory we’re all corporately stuck inside, nobody going anywhere; and you all seem quite indifferent to whether or not this whole sad circus will drag on into a dark and dreary bleak eternity.  That’s how I’m doing!  How the hell are you?

Nah, I didn’t say any of that.  I wanted to get out of there as quickly as humanly possible so I hoisted my large package up onto the counter.  The post-person weighed it.  I saw $32.96 appear on the scale readout.  Cool, I can handle that.  Then he measured the package.  20″ by 20″ by 26.”

“Your total is $97.50.”  Straight faced, no joke.  I stared at him until I re-entered earth’s atmosphere and managed a, “Uh…I’m sorry.  Say what?”

It turned out the weight was a thirty-six buck charge, but the large(?) size added an additional sixty-four.  The value of the contents, a broken speaker, which if it had been working right, which it was not, was still worth less that the cost of shipping it.

With a sigh I lugged the package out of the post office, trundled down the street to the local UPS station…and ended up sending my package to Tennessee for forty bucks and change.

Why am I dragging you (slowwwly) through this sad and torridly tortured tale of Fun with Postal Workers?  Yeah…you guessed correctly: If the President gets his way, the same people who run the post office will soon be running our health care industry.

How’s that for a happy thought?

I even see a possible cost-cutting consolidation:  Mail your packages, buy stamps, and have your gall bladder removed – all in one convenient location!  And since the number of doctors will decrease dramatically, hence increasing the wait time…you will be able to self-medicate with the new Easy-Does-It Gov-Care Med Dispensers while you’re waiting in line.  With the right combination, hours will seem like seconds.

The President addressed a fawning crowd in Wisconsin last month and delineated the ‘catastrophic’ consequences of not spending trillions of tax dollars immediately to fix our ‘broken health care system.’  People can’t afford health care, they’re dropping like flies, and it’s an urgent crisis.  We’ve got to completely reorder medical care in America and we have to do it immediately, or we’re all gonna die.  It’s a crisis.

Sound vaguely familiar?

But I want to be specific if I take issue with Mr. Obama.  So here goes:  The President said, “Rising premiums are straining family budgets to the breaking point.”

Oh, I see.  But…is that all families?  Half the families?  One tenth?  Fifteen-sixteenths, what?  Can you be specific, Mr. President?  And what exactly is the ‘breaking point’?  And could massively reducing taxes help at all?  Just a thought.

Obama went on, “In the past nine years, health care premiums have gone up three times faster than wages have gone up.”

Could that have anything to do with an increasingly litigious mindset and left-leaning encouragement of frivolous lawsuits in which hospitals, doctors and health care institutions are sued at the least provocation?

How about the resultant ‘ get-something-for-nothing’ attitude fostered by the Left’s welfare society of entitlement?  And what about the increasingly intrusive role of government meddling in the industry of health care and health care providers, which by all reports of those directly involved, indicates that the presence of government in the health care industry at all drives premiums higher.  I’m just saying.

The Prez continued, “…desperately needed tests and procedures are put off, because the price is too high.”

But at least we can get those tests and procedures, Mr. President, without having to wait two years, as is so often the case in Canada, or Great Britain, or New Zealand or any place socialized medicine holds its people in rationed third-world misery.

My father was a surgeon and sat on the board of the CMA, the California Medical Assoc., and was one of the board examiners who went around and inspected hospitals.  The expertise acquired enabled him to later build three hospitals himself, and manage nine more.  And I had been telling everyone I was going to be a doctor as well, since I was six years old.  But you know?  My father told me about the evils of socialized medicine and how it was creeping into our system.  My father ultimately influenced me to not go into the medical practice.  The reason:  Government had become far too intrusive in the health care industry.  And this was 35 years ago.

It’s only gotten worse since.  More and more would-be doctors are seeking other professions as the word gets around.  It used to be – you work hard, do well in a four-year college, go to med school, work your butt off for four years, then another two at internship and residency, and then, you open up a private practice.  But there’s no such thing anymore.  Because it’s not private – the government is your partner.  And more and more, the government is becoming your boss.

With fewer and fewer doctors there will be much longer waits to a) get in to see a doctor, and then b) receive any treatment.  In Britain and Canada where they have ‘free’ national health care, waiting times of two years are not uncommon to receive life-saving surgery.  And a lot can happen in that time.  Like…you can die.

The President tells us our health care system is ‘broken’ because health care has gotten more expensive.  Really?  That makes it ‘broken,’ because it’s expensive?

Health care costs in the country have risen in the past few years.  Absolutely right.  New innovation and high-tech breakthroughs cost a lot of money.  New life-saving drugs are expensive, because years of research and development are necessary to bring them to market.  The best costs money.  Don’t you pay more for a finer cut of beef at the grocery store?  Don’t you pay more for a nicer car, one that has more amenities?  We don’t have the cheapest health care on the planet, it’s true – but we do have the best health care system.  So when President Obama every other day proclaims solemnly that ‘our health care system is broken’…what the hell is he talking about?

He’s talking about controlling more and more of your daily lives.

Our health care system isn’t broken; it’s the best in the world.  I’d say our government is broken, starting with President Obama!

When foreign dignitaries get very sick or need life-saving surgeries, do they book it in Canada?  Or England?  Hell no – they come to the U.S.  The medical technology, physician expertise, and quality of medicine is the highest here than on any place on earth.  And it costs money to develop the medicines, the technology and train the doctors.  Why do people think that good things shouldn’t cost money?

And these AARP adds.  And ‘The Scooter Store.’  Granny doing donuts on her living room carpet and happily proclaiming she didn’t pay anything out-of-pocket for the scooter.  That’s because YOU all paid for it.  And I don’t mean to be harsh here, but …does Granny really need to motor around her house?  Wouldn’t her doctor agree that her health would benefit if she merely got up off her sedentary butt and walked to the kitchen.  Walked to the bathroom?  Walked around and exercised a bit, pumping life-giving blood through her extremities?  Of course it would.  Granny – God bless ya, but — Stop thinking that other people should have to pay for your stuff!

And another thing — You hear many in the news today saying, “The main problem with National Health Care is ‘How are we going to pay for it?’”  Really?  That’s like saying, “Listen we of course want to tie you up, shove a dyslexic hamster up your bum, place you upside-down in a glass tube of acid filled with scorpions and jellyfish…but the main problem is ‘How do we pay for it?’”

Uh….Forget how we pay for it – it’s a stupid idea!!!!!

Okay, Gary, you obviously have no compassion.  What about the poor?  What about the poor who can’t afford health insurance?  I would ask you for a definition of what ‘they’ can afford.  Can they afford that HD wide-screen?  Twenty-four-hour Direct-TV All Sports channel?  How about that brand new Hummer?  I know a lot of people who say they can’t afford health insurance, but manage to take three vacations a year on their boat and have more toys that I’ve ever had.

Choices.  People make choices in life.  They choose to spend their money on health insurance.  Or…they upgrade their wide screen.  Get their house painted.  Buy a new dining room set.  Or…they save up to pay for their health care insurance.

Yesterday, at yet another Town Hall Meeting, (or as I like to call it, Doctor Obama’s Magic Traveling Medicine Show), a rather rotund woman, Debbie, came up to the President and tearfully pleaded that she was diagnosed with a tumor and didn’t know what to do.  In a brilliantly staged move, the Snake-Oil-Salesman-in-Chief warmly embraced her bulk, saying that she was “Exhibit A” [of why our health care system is broken].  And I couldn’t help but remember that old TV show from the late ‘50’s…”QUEEN FOR A DAY” in which each week three women would come on and tell their sad tale of woe and disaster and deprivation to the studio and television audience.  The studio audience would then vote for whom they thought was the most deserving Queen-For-the-Day.  It was heart-rending.  One tragedy bested by yet another disaster, and finally trumped by an apocalypse of misfortune.  Tears, sad organ music, and warm, supportive love and grieving.

And finally it was announced, and the winner was crowned “QUEEN FOR A DAY”!  The pipe organ would swell as tears and applause and a robe and crown and the new Queen of Pathos was regaled with new washer-dryers, sewing machines, vacuum cleaners, reclining chairs…and it was all so maudlin and sappy.  But the show was a big hit.  People tuned in to hear the sob stories and get their heartstrings tugged.  And afterward…they felt a little better about themselves.

This is the essence of Liberalism.  It’s all about feeling a little better about yourself by doing ‘something nice’ and giving something to someone else.  And I say GOOD!  As long as no one is forcing me to give to someone else.  I’m all too happy to be nice to someone else, to give to a stranger, let’s say…voluntarily. (And by the way, Americans, and in fact Conservatives, are the biggest givers on the planet.)

But you write it into law, and back it up with a gun…now we got a problem.  Liberals are very generous – with other people’s money.

So when a zillion ‘Debbies’ come to me and ask me to pay for their health care, to treat their tumors, I say…HUNH?  Why should I have to pay for your health care?  And likewise, why should you have to pay for mine?  You don’t pay for my groceries, I don’t pay for yours…and isn’t food more vital that health care?  Here’s a novel idea:  Why don’t I pay for my health care and you pay for yours?.  Just a thought.

But how about this for people like Debbie:  HEALTH CARE TELETHONS!  Televised much like the Jerry Lewis MS Telethons, each stricken victim parades forth and tells their story – straight into the camera.  And the phones will light up with pledge money.  We can have menthol drops standing by for those not quite motivated to shed real Oprah-worthy tears.  And yours truly will keep whatever we raise above and beyond what your surgery or treatment ends up costing.  And I’ll put that money in a lock-box.  To be disseminated at a time and to a recipient of my choosing.

Now doesn’t that make more sense than what the Prez is proposing?  That because supposedly 30 million in this country (largely illegal or simply opting out) don’t have health insurance, our health care system — the best, most advanced medical system ever known to mankind — is ‘broken’ and needs to be turned over to the federal government to run?

What the President is proposing is insanity.  Return the medical industry to the private sector.  That is the only way to reduce costs and keep the quality of service at its optimum.

I also found these quotes from Ms. Fox:

“I don’t want to have to go on talk shows and pull out every single S.A.T. word I’ve ever learned, to prove, like, ‘Take me seriously, I am intelligent, I can speak.’ I don’t want to have to do that. I resent having to prove that I’m not a retard.”

And…

“Women are expected to be conformist automatons in L.A. but in Britain you can be more yourself and people will take you on face value.”

Far be it from me to point out that the base audience for “Transformers” is young males in Middle America, the same men that Fox condemns to a robot apocalypse.  I doubt the bi-coastal elites from Beverly Hills to the Upper West Side will be waiting in line for the midnight showing of Michael Bay’s latest opus.  Alienating your core audience is never a good idea.  Perhaps Ms. Fox holds an associate’s degree from the Timothy Geithner School of Business Management.

Fox asserts that she is “not a retard” and that she bucks the system by not being a “conformist.”  Is it bad for me to call foul on both points?

I learned something a long time ago.  Back in my fraternity days at USC (oops, man, did I just give the Huffington Post ammo?… A USC FRAT BOY!!!!!!  No wonder…) I noticed how the guys who constantly bragged about their sexual prowess really didn’t do too well.  The guys who were discrete, never bragged, never felt the need to prove anything, had a steady stream of attractive dates and girlfriends. The braggarts would spend their weekends regaling in tales of three ways and sex with strippers while drinking forty-ouncers and challenging each other to games of “Street Fighter” on the Super NES.

The same goes for intelligence.  When you feel compelled to tell the world how smart you are, how intellectual your positions are, how deep your education runs, the sad truth is that you probably aren’t that bright.

Megan Fox is a panderer.  She trashes Middle America to the British Press.  She wears “Star Wars” T-shirts to make Fan Boys drool, then calls those Fan Boys “retards” to the hipsters in Silver Lake.  She talks up her intelligence and non-conformity…. by making stupid, conformist statements.

Lauren Bacall made this observation about Hollywood: “When I first went into pictures, women absolutely ran the show. Bette Davis practically owned Warner Brothers.”  Bacall doesn’t know many of the stars of today. “They’re all too self-involved, y’know? And they’re so unaware of what goes on anywhere else.”

Hmmmm…is there any way that we can draw a parallel between the rise of “correct” thought in Hollywood as evidenced by self-absorbed automatons like Megan Fox and the observation that Hollywood used to be BETTER for women?  Is it, perhaps, that whiny divas who parrot talking points to look cool, who lack independent thought and rely on their good looks instead of honing their craft, have made Hollywood WORSE for women?  That may be a stretch.  Maybe I need some self-professed smart person to help me make that argument.

Bacall, Bette Davis, Katherine Hepburn, Joan Crawford…these women are legends.  Not just because they are superior, gifted actresses, but because you can feel their presence, their intellect, their “moxie” in every thing they did.

As a reformed frat guy I can tell you…these women had “balls!”

I have a friend.  An actress.  The one pictured above that you might not recognize.  Her resume is similar to Fox’s, before her lucky break in “Transformers.”  This actress is not an automaton.  Her politics are a unique blend of feminism, social liberalism, libertarianism, and hawkish neo-conservatism.  She has a business degree from BYU, although she’s never mentioned it to anyone to further her “smart” credentials.  When she walks into a party she doesn’t instantly turn the conversation into a discourse on her sexual habits a la Ms. Fox, nor does she sit by and let a comment about that “fascist George Bush” go by without a rebuttal.

Yet while Megan Fox was busy being pampered on the set of “Transformers,” this actress worked with me on the direct to video knock-off movie “Transmorphers.”  While Megan Fox sat in her trailer waiting for make-up, this actress did her own make-up, then stood outside in the freezing rain for 12 hours in an old junkyard near Topanga.  While Megan Fox pocketed hundreds of thousands of dollars, this actress got paid $50 a day.  No complaints.  No crying.  Just smiles and hard work.

Yes, Megan Fox, women in Hollywood still face issues and obstacles.  But not in the way that you think.  While you are gaming the system, being part of the problem and not the solution, others are advancing the cause despite you.

I know a couple of other actresses like my friend.  They feel alienated, blacklisted, and closed off.  Not because they are as attractive as Megan Fox and people can’t get past their looks.  Not solely because of the male stranglehold on Hollywood.  They feel out of place because they have “balls.”

And the last thing you want to be in the tolerant world of Hollywood is a woman with “balls.”

Megan Fox is clearly lacking a pair.

Ah yes… I can see it now… bedtime at Buckingham Palace…  The Queen emerges from her powder room after her nightly ablutions and gently pads across the oriental carpet in her pink, fuzzy slippers to the edge of her royal bed.  She calls to her maidservant, “Fatima, my dear, before I retire would you fetch me my video iPod?  Not the old one, but the new one I just got from Barry and Michelle.”  “Of course, your Highness,” she replies, quickly exiting the Royal Suite.  Moments later Fatima returns, reverently cradling the radiant object in her hands.  Tenderly taking it from her, the Queen puts in the royal iPod ear buds.  Then, Fatima helps her out of her slippers and into the massive bed, making sure that the goose-down pillows are properly fluffed.  Finally, Fatima places the Royal night-cap on the Queen’s head, and, as the Queen snuggles further into her down comforter, Fatima bids her a pleasant “Good night.”  

Alone now, and with the lights dimmed, the Queen – trembling with anticipation – switches on the iPod and begins to watch the previously loaded photos of the magnificent spectacle of President Obama’s Inauguration. Her eyes wide with delight, she gasps in wonder as Senator Obama places his hand on the Bible and is transformed into President Obama.  Then, warm and cozy in her palace bed, a smile of enchantment on her royal face, the magnificent words of President Obama’s Inauguration speech lull the Queen into a blissful and untroubled sleep. “Change… Hope… Change… Change…change….”

Can a country get so caught up in lunatic political correctness that it ceases to respect human values and dignity? Can an entire land drink the Kool-Aid of enforced Islamofascism, to the point where every man, woman and child within its borders earns the cursed title “Celebutard?”

How about a continent?

With the exception of a tiny Vermont town that tried to indict President Bush, plus the lefty institution that is The New York Times, it was only idiot individuals who earned the C-title in my new book, “Celebutards: The Hollywood Hacks, Limousine Liberals and Pandering Politicians Who are Destroying America”  (Kensington). That is, until Britain, our friendly neighbor across the pond, defied all reason and self-interest to advance the goal of sucking up to people who would kill Britons as soon as say, “Hello.”

Earlier this month, Britain detained a Dutch parliamentarian, Geert Wilders, at Heathrow Airport, and quickly shipped him back to the Netherlands. Wilders, claimed the Brits, constituted “a threat to public policy.”

What had he done? Condoned child sacrifice? Drank American beer? Nope. Wilders is set to be prosecuted in his native Holland for “inciting hatred and discrimination” and “insulting Muslim worshippers,” in his 2008 short film, Fitna, as well as in public statements.

What’s the fuss? Well, in the past, Wilders has called for a ban on the Koran, which he compared to Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf.  His film Fitna contains footage from recent atrocities committed by Muslims, plus it presents the passages from the Koran that appear to have called for the bloody killings. The blasphemous film has been screened in Rome (go Italians!) but is having trouble seeing daylight in Britain or Holland.

According to the New Republic, the prosecution of Wilders resulted from extreme pressure put on Europe by the Organization of the Islamic Conference, which includes 56 Muslim states plus the Palestinian Authority. The OIC’s goal is plain: to make the world safe for sharia.  And whether out of fear of its Muslim immigrant horde, or out of a deep-seated dedication to suicide, Britain is duly falling in line. This is a land whose union of university professors has tried long and hard to isolate Israeli academics and ban them from participating in research, evoking comparisons to Nazi Germany.

But the right to free speech pales against what the OIC calls forbidden “Islamophobia” that is practiced in modern European countries. Islamophobic activity, incidentally, can include opposition to illegal immigration, and any and all efforts to combat terrorism.

So when in Europe, be careful what you say and what you think. The speech police are out to get you. The thought police are coming next. Wait a minute – they’re already here.