When the Fallon/Bachmann controversy first exploded, Questlove issued a statement claiming that his decision to introduce the Congresswoman to the show with the Fishbone song “Lyin’ Ass Bitch” was “tongue-in-cheek” and a “spur-of-moment decision.”

And yet…

In a Nov. 21  interview with “Rolling Stone,” Questlove told the interviewer of his plans to do exactly what he did:

“I’m gunning for Bachmann,” Questlove, a vocal Obama fan, told Rolling Stone. To put a time stamp on the comment, the magazine wrote that during the interview, he was “looking up walk-on songs for next week’s shows.”

Continued Questlove, “I want to try and do Fishbone’s ‘Lyin’ Ass Bitch.’ I just don’t know if I’m gonna tell Jimmy.”

Is this acceptable to NBC and to Jimmy Fallon?

Well, we’re talking about NBC here, so I’m guessing that it is.

Outstanding new voices such as Marco Joachim, Cirrone or The Turnback would have had numerous singles in the top ten thirty years ago.

There are many reasons for the press’s lack of interest including economics, but there is a cultural reason, too. The establishment press long ago became suspicious of art for art’s sake. Beauty and good vibes are so bourgeoisie. It’s got to have an edge, an attitude or sucker punches about the failure of the capitalist system, the hypocrisy of religion, or the need to take public transport.

The movement reached its apotheosis in Spin’s infamous 1993 review of Jellyfish’s ‘Spilt Milk.’  The magazine’s reviewer dismissed the album as mindless ear candy, offering faint praise for one song, the vaguely classist ‘Russian Hill. ‘The reviewer thought it was about the haves versus the have-nots. Music shorn of socio-political content is ‘not relevant.’  It’s even worse if the band voices an opinion contrary to the kultursmog.

Modern recording technology and the Internet enable bands to be their own labels and gin up interest.  Why would Hindu Rodeo or Bryan Scary send a review disc to Rolling Stone?  They don’t advertise in Rolling Stone.  Hence, Rolling Stone has no interest in them.  Imagine Rolling Stone reviewing Hindu Roideo’s “Evil White Man,” with lyrics like:

I  wish I was a black man, so I’d know right from wrong, so I’d never belong, so I’d protest this song, but I’m an evil white man.

Due to the changing nature of technology, music magazines themselves are on the verge of extinction, like their host bodies the dinosaur music labels. Major labels have shunned power pop with a few exceptions like Barenaked Ladies, Cheap Trick, a rebooted Cars and the Gin Blossoms. They “get” bands like Cheap Trick because they’ve been around for thirty years. They’re part of the scene. They had verifiable hits! And they advertise in print.

The last time Rolling Stone mentioned Jellyfish was in a short article about Jason Falkner in 2001. The article focused on Falkner’s reaction to the death of George Harrison and said, “Even if Falkner never uttered a word about it, his life-long Beatles fandom would be evident in the melodic treasures that makeup his two Elektra albums, 1996’s Jason Falkner Presents Author Unknown and 1999’s Can You Still Feel?, not mention in the heavy-handed homages of his early Nineties outfit Jellyfish” (emphasis mine).

Innovation and distribution have changed the way we consume music. Thirty years ago, every college town was rife with record stores – big chains like Discount Records and Sam Goode. Twenty years ago, those stores switched over to CDs. But today the big box stores are barely keeping their CD sections alive. Consumers download music into their iPods. There’s no physical package to roll joints on or find out who wrote what. Many young musicians recognize this and offer CDs which may only be obtained from their websites or at live shows. You download both music and the album art.

Jerry Rio of Sunrise Highway says, “Except for the Beyoncés or Lady Gagas there’s no money being made by labels. And power pop… forget about it.  I think about people like Usher or John Legend… it’s nowhere near Motown or R&B from the great years. I think the Kings Of Leon suck.  I was listening to ‘Jigsaw Puzzle’ on Beggars Banquet last night. What a song, production, performance.  Music is not quite as inspired these days.”

Online magazines such as www.absolutepowerpop.com, www.powerpopaholic.com, www.popgeekheaven.com, and many others have sprung up on the web to serve the needs of the power pop community. PopGeekHeaven is the work of Bruce Brodeen, whose Not Lame label released over 100 albums from 1994 to 2010, many of which became highly-sought collectors’ items.

Readers have complained that previous power pop news did not advance the conservative movement,* but I think that’s part of the point. Remember when music was just music and didn’t have to serve an agenda? Rio asks an all too familiar question: where is today’s Motown? Power pop bands dare to deliver pure pleasure for which they are dismissed as “selfish.” We’d like to live in a less-politicized culture where choosing a song is not a political statement. Power pop is that culture.

*Which is not to say there haven’t been great conservative power poppers and rockers: Ray Davies, Danny Elfman, Hindu Rodeo, Rush, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Rick Altizer, even John Lennon if we’re to believe the recent revelations.

The Left’s growing disappointment with Obama only has to do with his current approval rating. I can guarantee you that if the President did everything exactly the way he’s doing now but was at 55% approval as opposed to 39% and on his way to easy re-election, Jon Stewart and the rest would be overjoyed with the job Obama’s doing. The Left simply must blame “the job the President is doing” because they can’t face the fact that the policies Obama put into place have failed because those are the policies the Left has believed in for generations. To stare into the abyss and admit their own ideas don’t work is too much to bear. So instead, we get this:

Stewart in Rolling Stone:

“Obama ran on this idea that the system and the methodology are corrupt. It felt like the country was upset enough that he had the momentum needed to re-­evaluate how business is done. Instead, when he got elected, he acted as though the system is so entrenched that it has to be managed rather than – I don’t want to say decimated, because I’m not an anarchist or a nihilist. But I’m surprised at how much he deferred to the legislative process. He’s accomplished some things, and I’m sure he’s pleased with what he’s done, but I would have preferred to see something a little bit more transformative. They haven’t made the case that government can be effective, or accountable, or agile.”

And this:

“He feels like the only president who begins every press conference with a heavy sigh. I think he was already kind of over us by the time he got into office. And now he’s like, ‘What the fuck is wrong with these people?’”

Obama’s hovering in the thirties because he’s a failed president with no one to blame but the ideas and policies he and other Leftists like Stewart wanted to see enacted. Never forget that for two years the Left owned Congress, had a filibuster-proof majority in the Senate, and passed a wish-list of big government programs that not only haven’t worked but have made things worse.

Obama’s problem isn’t his attitude or presentation. Obama’s problem is that he got everything he and his supporters wanted, which in turn proved beyond any doubt that what they believe in is bad for America, especially the poor. 

How people can claim to care about this country and the plight of the poor and not come to terms with the failure of their own ideology is beyond me.

His current anti-soldier hit piece, The Kill Team, is about a group of disgraceful scumbags in Afghanistan who decided to murder several civilians.  With it, Boal seems to be following his tried and true formula – write something for publication in a past-its-prime magazine that makes American troops look like cro-magnons then work to turn it into a movie.  He took a Playboy article on Americans murdering each other and soon we had In the Valley of Elah.  You may have seen it – though the odds are stacked against it.  It was ignored by popular demand.

Another article, this one on bomb disposal experts, became The Hurt Locker, which took some of the bravest and most dedicated people in our armed forces and made them out as undisciplined, drunken, unprofessional clowns.  In fact, Boal got sued by one of the guys he allegedly wrote about.  To be fair, it did win an Academy Award . . . from the same band of geniuses who passed over Saving Private Ryan in favor of Shakespeare In Love and once picked as “Best Song” the unforgettable hit “It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp.”  So, there’s that.

Boal’s technique is to chronicle the most degenerate fringes of the warfighters’ experience and repackage the most sordid episodes as its totality.  One can easily imagine the Rolling Stone editors eager for the chance to please their dwindling audience of aging Garfunkel-digging hippies and Chomsky-devouring clove-smokers with another prejudice-reinforcing piece about how those Middle-American Army guys are barely one step above gorillas.  Rolling Stone even promises a glimpse at the grim photos the mean old Pentagon doesn’t want you to see – as if there was some moral imperative for the military to provide gist for the jihadi propaganda mill.  Hey, that’s Boal and Rolling Stones’ job!

What is particularly cunning in his approach is that there is no excuse for the crimes these savages committed, and Boal uses this fact to deflect any kind of perspective.  Hundreds of thousands of young, heavily-armed and stressed American men and women have served overseas since 9/11.  Several dozen have murdered people.  You won’t find any city in America with a murder rate like that for that demographic. 

Michael Yon, who has embedded with the unit involved, sums up his feelings in the title of his response: “Calling BULLSHIT on ‘Rolling Stone’”.  Unlike the chaotic rabble Boal imagines, the unit Yon embedded with was squared away and effective.  Yon’s critique of the story is devastating and deserves a close read.  And Yon knows what he is talking about; in contrast, when Boal makes obvious errors, like referring to a battalion commander as the “battalion chief,” he self-identifies as a poser.   

For his part, Boal chooses to focus on one squad out of dozens, a handful of losers out of several thousand in a Stryker brigade, and to subtly extrapolate that the entire brigade was on some sort of rampage.  His article contains lots of hints about a greater, grander conspiracy, but offers nothing like convincing evidence to anyone familiar with either the law or the military.  In fact, it was the Army that investigated every aspect of the case.  The murderers are going to jail for decades, yet he leaves the impression that there was some sort of collective shrug of the shoulders on the part of the Army – despite the fact that the Army uncovered, investigated and prosecuted the case long before ace reporter Mark Boal appeared on the scene with Final Draft loaded on his iPad.

What’s missing from Boal’s article is the usual implication that these murders are simply a manifestation of some sort of malignant wink and nod from the very highest echelons of power.  Of course, with the Bu$Hitler/Cheney-satan cabal out of power, instead of the evil originating in the Halliburton-spawned machinations of the neo-con White House, today it simply bubbles up from the poisonous minds of those poor, benighted Americans unfortunate enough not to be born in New York City and who enlist for the sole purpose of living out their homicidal fantasies.  Boal’s nothing if not fully in tune with the expectations of his Hollywood masters.

Of course, there’s plenty of innuendo in there about the officer corps too; if he’s going to sell the screenplay, he needs some villains and the killers themselves are already slotted as the designated victims of a murderous American culture.  Boal describes ominously how the brigade commander, a decorated colonel, has critiqued the current counter-insurgency strategy.  Now, being part of the liberal media establishment, Boal is probably not used to the idea of diversity of thought.  Since he and all his friends think exactly alike, he probably can’t conceive that within the military community and its many professional journals there is a healthy and invaluable debate about the best way to fight a guerrilla war. 

The fact is that an infantry squad leader – the toughest job in the Army and one that should only be entrusted to leaders of the highest moral caliber – appears to have carefully surrounded himself with a small collection of thugs and weak-willed pawns and lived out his sick fantasies in a combat zone.  He is a disgrace to every NCO who ever wore stripes.  He and his band of misfits did their best to exploit the understandable and justified leeway given to troops in a hostile fire zone to hide their crimes.  Boal seems to see this tragedy as his next film credit; unfortunately, the American men and women in Afghanistan will be paying the price for these criminals’ actions – amplified by Boal’s breathless reporting – for a long time. 

The real story of American warriors in Afghanistan is one of courage and compassion, of bravery in the face of almost overwhelming challenges.  You won’t see that in Boal’s article or his movies.  The truth is off-message.  The truth doesn’t pay.

Let me share a story from Desert Storm 20 years ago that sums up the truth about American soldiers.  The ground war had just started and I had to go out to a field hospital in the middle of the desert to take care of some business.  I was in a tent with a young specialist who had – as American troops will do – decked it out pretty nicely.  Among his amenities, he had a small fridge packed with sodas running off a generator. 

There was an announcement that a Blackhawk was inbound with a lightly wounded Iraqi prisoner – the big, bad Army sent a crew in a multi-million dollar chopper forward to pick up an enemy with a minor injury to take him to an American hospital for treatment.  The specialist thought for a moment, went into his fridge and grabbed a Coke.  Then he looked at me and said, “Do you think he’d want one of these?”

That’s an American fighting man – an unequalled warrior in battle yet compassionate and kind when the shooting stops.  I’ve seen it.  Millions of other vets have seen it.  Millions of civilians all over the world have seen it – in fact, they are seeing it as we speak.  But we won’t see that in Boal’s next opus.  Boal knows what sells in Hollywood, and it sure as hell isn’t the truth.

—–

The documentary fittingly begins by focusing on YouTube.com, the popular video site that has introduced millions of Americans to “the sneezing panda” and “the dramatic chipmunk.”  That site also serves as a launching pad for talented artists and it’s where Bieber was discovered by his manager. Before then, Bieber was just another youngster with a good singing voice who was making videos with his family.

Soon enough, the manager and others in the music industry show interest in Bieber but even with their support, his fame is never guaranteed. To become a megastar, Bieber travels  across the United States visiting local radio stations and performing on air. His popularity is never handed to him; he has to fight for it, one song after another. It’s difficult to imagine Bieber having to fight for attention but the documentary shows how driven he was even at a young age. While other young people may have given up, Bieber never stops working towards his goals.

Along with showing his rise to fame, the documentary also focuses on the days leading up to Bieber’s big show at Madison Square Garden. The days are full of anxiety as Bieber’s voice begins to falter on his concert tour. His doctors tell him that he needs rest but Bieber, ever the energetic teenager, wants to keep his concert schedule intact. He’s frustrated by the situation and hopes to recover before the big performance.

The story doesn’t always focus on the serious aspects of Bieber’s life, though. In one scene, the documentary pokes fun at Bieber’s famous haircut. In a self-deprecating way, the classic song “At Last” plays while Bieber’s hair is shown swaying in slow motion from side to side. Girls may swoon at the site but the filmmakers show that they have a sense of humor.

From the adolescent girls who adore the teenager (one even says that she thinks about him ninety-nine percent of the time) to Bieber’s road crew, it’s difficult not to enjoy meeting the people who look up to Bieber and the ones who support him during his exhausting tours. These people seem to enjoy the ride as Bieber grows up and improves as a performer. Bieber, himself, is grateful for them and for his own success and it shows when he is  seen praying several times during the film, both before eating and before some of his concerts.

What surprised me the most about this documentary is how much I enjoyed it. I didn’t walk into the theater as a Bieber fan and I didn’t walk out as one. However, I did walk out with respect for a young performer who worked tirelessly to market himself and establish his credibility. As compared to Miley Cyrus, who enjoys a brief cameo in the film, I think Bieber has stayed more grounded to his roots and I hope he stays that way. For Bieber fans and for those who don’t like his music, “Never Say Never” is an enjoyable documentary about a young man who worked really hard for his success and who, as the title suggests, learned to never say never.

—–

There is another world out there, young pop bands shunning the traditional channels and using the internet to sell their exquisitely crafted, gloriously melodic pop.  Twenty-ten was another banner year in which it was difficult to limit the top ten to only ten.  Nevertheless, here goes.

1. Oranjuly formed in 2009 joining lead singer and writer Brian E. King who had already been working on these songs for years.  Every year it seems a one-man band emerges to stun us.  In years past it’s been Roger Klug and Josh Fix.  This year it’s Oranjuly’s Brian E. King who says, “I played everything but drums and cello. I did play drums on South Carolina though!”  Now the band is a five piece so they can reproduce these astounding sounds in public.  This time the Jellyfish comparisons are apt.  King also has a knack for sunny Beach Boys-style harmonies which permeate the record.  If architecture is frozen music this is the Taj Mahal.

2. Sunrise Highway Instant classic.  Seamless collection of sunset (not sunrise, as the title suggests) dreamy surf-tinged pop that effortlessly evokes the world as it might appear in a Thomas Kinkade painting with swooningly gorgeous stacked harmonies.  Yes Brian Wilson is a cornerstone but there’s so much more going on here, and in songs like “Magic” and “Roundabout,” Sunshine Highway establishes their own sound firmly.  Instrumentally challenging—note guitarist Marc Silvert’s bent note solo on “Endless Summer.”  Silvert wrote most of this material which makes him a major American songwriter in my book.

3. Timmy Sean: Songs From & Inspired by Noisewater. Another one-man band.  Timmy Sean started recording in ’06 and finished in ’10 as the cover art amusingly illustrates.  Much like Bryan Scary’s first record, Sean puts together a keyboard-based minor mode masterpiece in “Noisewater Overture,” theme music to epic noir science fiction.  The melody works you over like a Rolfing specialist but it only feels good.  Every song is a polished gem of great pop dynamics.  Brian Mahoney plays sax on the Billy Joel-esque “If Your Mother Has Her Way.”  I would be remiss for not mentioning the exquisitely Beatle-inspired “Wait” with a bridge to die for.

4. Buva: Not Scary!  Friendly! Opening with lazy day acoustic guitar, Buva spins a beguiling web on “Smoke Into the Sky,” sounding more like Badfinger than Badfinger itself.  Again the key is endless melodic invention with well-thought-out hooks and choruses that will have you singing along.  Buva (Tom Wolfe) shuns Brill Bdlg song conventions on “You Say It Too” which consists of three movements—the Byrds-like tonic, fantastic bridge and a chorus that is both surprising and logical.  “Hide Away” has a McCartney feel.  So if you love the Three Bees; Beach Boys, Byrds and Beatles, add a fourth.

5. The High Dials: Anthems for Doomed Youth.  This is the second year in a row the High Dials have landed on my top ten list.  This Canadian quartet absorbed the principles of early Brit rock: the Zombies, the Beau Brummels, Pink Floyd, and melds it with a modern psychedelic edge that makes their music seem both familiar and experimental.  “Teenage Love” charges out of the gate with chiming guitars and a massive hook.  More than a touch of Byrds here.  “Uruguay” combines chamber pop with an anthemic chorus and stadium guitars.  “The Rich Die Too” doesn’t sound too much like the Zombies.  Ceaseless melodic invention.

6. Paul Collins: King of Power Pop! Paul Collins was in the Nerves which split giving birth to Paul Collins’ Beat and the Plimsouls.  The Beat is a great American rock band in the tradition of The Replacements.  King of Power Pop! Is a straight-ahead blast of no-frills power pop with rockabilly undertones thanks to Collins’ unique voice.  He’s still got that duck’s ass glissando at the end of each vocal.  Songs like “C’mon Let’s Go!” “Do You Wanna Love Me” and “Doin’ It for the Ladies” speak for themselves.  “Don’t Blame Your Troubles on Me” is an appropriately snotty expression of middle-aged punk fury.  Paul throws in a two minute version of “The Letter” as homage to his spiritual predecessor Alex Chilton.  “The Kings of Power Pop” has surprising emotional heft.

7. The Like: Release Me. Okay, this one’s on Geffen.  Score one for the dinosaur media.  Cheeky all girl quartet with a designer bag full of great girl songs.  Sounds a lot like the Shangri-Las.  Grabs you with “Wishing He Was Dead” and carries all the way through.  Standouts include “Walk of Shame,” “Narcissus in a Red Dress,” and the insanely catchy “Catch Me If You Can.”  Do you crave cheesy Farfisa organ?  It’s all here.  (Not played by regular organist Annie Monroe, but by studio honcho Victor Axelrod.)  Lead singer Z Berg has that classic Maryanne Faithful sound.

8. The Contrast: God of Malfunction. “We are strange and getting stranger/We won’t change we’ll screw the danger,” the Contrast sing on “Coming Back to Life.”  Insistent beat, exquisite harmonies, offbeat chords, and pumping roller rink organ permeate every song.  “I Am an Alien” sounds like Ziggy Stardust era Bowie.   “Better than They Seem,” an ironic paean to positive thinking combines Beatlesque chords and harmonies with a dissonant bridge.  “She’s a Disaster” evokes Jefferson Airplane but these guys are just off-kilter enough to create their own sound.

9. Zombies of the Stratosphere: Ordinary People.   These lovers of classic Brit pop (including the Zombies) and American psychedelia incorporate a vast panoply of influences to create a highly melodic and very personal statement.  The opener, “Our Life in Shadow Falls,” is almost pure Kinks save for Arthur Smith’s very un-Davies-like vocal.  “Love Song 99” borrows Marshall Crenshaw’s chords with a classic Brit-rock bridge and chorus.  “Flyboy” might have come off the Dukes of Stratospheare record.

“The Other Side of the World” is sui generis, a bittersweet rocker with a doo wop chorus.

“All Those Pretty Lies” ends the record on a sigh.

10. Smash Palace. Don’t play this in the car.  “Win It All” is Raspberries-strength power pop that instantly adds 30 mph to your speed.  Hard-edged but sweet Replacements-like band effortlessly bangs out one hook after another.  “Win” and the follow-up “How Can You Say” pack an almost Stones-like one-two-punch before the band breaths deep with the pleasingly off-kilter “Holding Out For You.”  “All in Love is Fair” sounds like the theme song to a Peter Gunn-type show.  Stephen Butler has a matinee idol’s voice—a young Peter Cetera.  Plays excellent guitar too.  “Somebody Up There Likes Me” is a rockin’ expression of gratitude.

When asked about Fox News, this is what our Commander-in-chief had to say.

I think Fox … is part of the tradition that has a very clear, undeniable point of view. It’s a point of view that I disagree with. It’s a point of view that I think is ultimately destructive for the long-term growth of a country that has a vibrant middle class and is competitive in the world. But as an economic enterprise, it’s been wildly successful.

Okay. So, you’re the President of the United States, with both Houses under your control. You also have the most fawning press of any president in the history of the universe. And yet you let FNC get under your skin, because it’s the only network that doesn’t have a thrill up its leg?

Obama is like a sports team who owns the ref, the fans and the field- but refuses to play until the kid in the tenth row stops chewing gum.

So let’s indulge Obama’s fantasy: and imagine if FNC didn’t exist. Yeah, it’s the good old days, when the only media was a liberal one.

Well, Obama would still be in trouble. See, it wasn’t Fox who started the tea parties. It was Rick Santelli – and then America ran with it.

In fact, it would be far worse for Obama if there was no Fox, because then he’d only have the American people to bash. There is no Republican adversary, and without FNC – who’s left? You.

And this is why the Whiner-in-Chief needs us. It provides cover, so Obama can criticize Americans without ever saying “America.” He can just say Fox News instead.

I don’t mind. We’re happy to help.

And if you disagree with me, you’re a racist, homophobic, taurophobe.

Tonight:

Paul Mecurio!

Leeanne Tweenen!

Ali Nejad!

——

You know, sometimes you just want to go, have a drink or two, or three, or ten, and then sit in a movie theater and tune out the seemingly endless parades of nimrods, pinkos and sanctimonious deadbeats who make up so much of our society today.  You just want some guys to come on the screen and to do and say some funny stuff.  Maybe you want an explosion or two, perhaps a gratuitous shower scene – strike that, as shower scenes are never gratuitous.  Unless it’s a dude.  Or Kathy Bates.

The point is the last thing you want after a Dos XX prep and handing over $11.75 each for yourself and your life partner/designated driver is for a bunch of Hollywood half-wits to stop the fun to give you a PowerPoint briefing on their insights into modern politics – without even the PowerPoint.  And it appears that this is exactly what The Other Guys intends to do.

Look.  Will Ferrell is an intermittently amusing guy with a bizarre sense of humor and an ability to be oddly compelling in his usual role as an utterly unself-aware buffoon.  However, I’d put my level of eagerness to drop $23.50 for the privilege of hearing out his political views at somewhere between passing a kidney stone made of broken glass and helping Ernest Borgnine with his bi-monthly Brazilian wax.

Someone out there might be interested in seeing Ferrell’s phallocentric George Bush play – they pimped the stupid thing on HBO enough – but I’m not one of them.  I have plenty of geniuses providing me the full benefit of their lefty echo-chamber reinforced clichés on Twitter every day.  I don’t need to pay for them – there are countless dumbasses out there who give it away for free.

The problem isn’t that Will Ferrell wants to talk about politics on stage or on the screen.  It’s that I don’t want to see it in The Other Guys.  Let’s leave out the fact that the message itself appears to be a confused mishmash of pseudo-populist ire and hazily understood recent history.  I just don’t want to deal with it in a Will Ferrell comedy.   Hell, I’m not being unreasonable here.  I’m willing to tolerate having that Marky Mark guy in the movie – that’s a major concession for a straight man.

—–

So, now I and I’m guessing a significant number of other conservative folks are going to have to sit this one out.  Will the filmakers even notice?  Perhaps, perhaps not.  But the consequences of alienating at least half your audience with some free-form pinko propagandizing will only grow more consequential over time.

Now, not so many years ago – before sites like Big Hollywood, as here, let the cat out of the bag on lefty sucker-punchery – our number would have been small.  No one would think to warn us, mostly because to the extent that most mainstream critics would notice these politics they would probably find them not nearly leftist enough.  Even now, the Rolling Stone review – yeah, Rolling Stone is still a thing, if you can believe it – does not even mention The Other Guys’ politics.  Hacky puff-pieces whitewash it.  But then, “Hollywood journalism” is a contradiction in terms – like the phrases “Democratic fiscal responsibility” and “Lady Gaga’s talent.”

If it weren’t for the alternative media, we’d have walked into the theaters, sat down, quietly popped the tops on our beers – everyone does that, right? – and stared wide-eyed and smiling until … WHAM!  The liberal sucker punch would have landed.  And we never saw it coming.

Well, we see it coming now, and there are quite a few of us who are a bit reluctant to walk right into a left cross.  The point is not that Hollywood should not make left-wing movies – though it shouldn’t, considering leftism’s unbroken track record of total failure and human misery.  The point is that it should not cater to the delusions of the pampered stars and producers who think that years of toiling in detergent commercials and taking roles as “Second Delivery Man” before hitting it big have provided them with unique, valuable insights that simply must be shared with their unwilling, unsuspecting audience.

You want to make a left-wing film?  Make it, but be honest about it.  Let people know.  Spread the word.  Sit there during one of those insipid Access Hollywood pseudo-interviews, tent your fingers, lean your enormous movie star head into the camera and say, “In this movie, I don’t hold back my poorly articulated thoughts about how the ownership of the means of production should reside in the hands of the proletariat.  Plus, I do some really hilarious bits involving farting nuns.”

If I want preaching, I’ll go to church.  When I go to a Will Ferrell movie, I want to laugh.  I want to drink my beer, not feel like I need to huck it at the screen.  And, while you’re at it, no subtitles or “Fin” freeze-frames either.

What did he find?

Trash talk directed at bureaucrats.

Yeah, I know.

Here’s a fact: if someone followed me around for three weeks, they’d find far more worse. The storage container underneath my waterbed would put me away for life. Fact is, journos like me and those at Rolling Stone are so seedy, we could never survive the scrutiny we apply on others.

Simply put: Soldiers are better people than those who cover them.

But this writer followed the troops, who might as well be on Mars. That’s what Afghanistan is. A weird, scary place without decent cable. They don’t have time to worry about some slimy dickwad writer trying to ingratiate himself into their fold in order to get a damaging tidbit upon which to build a career. These soldiers deal with death. And that’s the irony. While those troops work like hell – in hell – to protect that writer from his own demise, he’s busy orchestrating theirs. How screwed is that?

And what did the writer find? Banter. Normal give and take between men. The kind of stuff you find between cops, troops, and yeah: editors. Everyone bad mouths the boss.

But, I guess the left hates manly conversation almost as much as they hate the military. They just don’t get it. And so, they use it to form their lazy narrative: that we’ve got another Vietnam on our hands. Of course we do, when we have so many writers saying we’ve got another Vietnam on our hands. They said the same thing about Iraq (we won), the Gulf War (we won), and if they had a time machine, they’d go back and say the same thing about WW2 (which, we won, I think).

And that leave us with Rolling Stone. the only thing it hates more than war, is winning one. They altered history last week – but not in the way they intended. That is: an end of courageous restraint.

Rolling Stone’s gotta hate this: we may win this war, because they wanted to lose it.

And if you disagree with me, you’re a racist homophobe who dated Jann Wenner.

Tonight we’ve got Joe Devito, Remi Spencer and Diana Falzone!

INEVITABLY, ANOTHER SOLDIER SNAPS

Distraught pacifist conscientious objector tormented by horrors of war, as far as you know

Newsroom experts: stress, violence, stupidity, tragedy a way of life for GIs

Former M*A*S*H stars say it’s finally time to disarm the military

Hollywood insiders: Sean Penn early favorite for lead in planned Oliver Stone biopic

Nidal Hassan – not a fan of taxes Fort Hood: Another Black Eye For Teabagger Movement Connecting the dots: 2006-8 Tax returns show anti-government extremist carefully itemized deductions Like many Town Hall protesters, Hassan motivated by rage, pattern baldness Phone records: suspect tried to join Hair Club for Men Tearful Pelosi pushes Congress for new Tea Party regulations: “our lives are at stake”

Closet Dittohead? Investigation: Ft. Hood Killer Had Access to Fox, Talk Radio, Right-Wing Blogs Receipts show killer’s apartment had cable ‘03 Nissan registered to Hassan had AM radio Napolitano: “I told you so” Sources: Despite 17 citations as Countdown’s ‘Worst Person In The World,’ FBI failed to detain Limbaugh Defiant Palin rejects calls to apologize

Hassan: NRA poster boy GUN GOES ON RAMPAGE IN TEXAS Experts say shootings could have easily been prevented if guns did not exist; others argue bullets must share blame Gun facts: scary, loud, shoot people

Reverend Nidal Hassan say Gimme that Old Time Religion Fundamentalist Religion Seen As Motive in Ft. Hood Massacre Devout churchgoer evangelized conservative views Shooter’s former Virginia home was mere hours from Jerry Falwell compound What did Tilton, Swaggert, Osteen know?

Billy Ray Hassan – average American Southerner Another Typical Day in Dixieland U.S.A. In the land of cotton, some hear echoes of Civil War in latest violent redneck rampage American-born killer was son of the Jim Crow South NASCAR may have been involved Britons warned: limit U.S. travel to safe areas such as New York, Chicago, Los Angeles

Hassan: owned GameStop member card Did Violent Video Games, Rap Lyrics Drive Killing Spree? Video: Grand Theft Auto, Super Mario Cart remain on shelf at Fort Hood PX Lil’ Wayne goes One-on-One with Wolf Blitzer Larry King Live Special tragedy coverage with panelists Nancy Grace, David Hasselhoff, Joan Collins

Tailgater of Terror Caught in the Middle of an NFC East Rivalry Sports psychologists: strain of being a Redskins fan in Cowboy country may have led to breakdown for former DC resident Jurgenson, Staubach team up for NFL sportsmanship pitch Skins fans fear backlash Special “Outside the Lines” interview with NFL Commissioner Goodell: “this is precisely why we banned Limbaugh”

Nidal “Ozriel” Hassan: tormented by popular kids ‘Ozriel’: Portrait of a Bullies’ Target Another Columbine? Sensitive, artistic outsider said ostracized by Army jocks, “in crowd” Found solace in poetry, music, MySpace Weekend “EmoAid” benefit concert to raise awareness about at-risk youth, reunite CSN&Y

Junk food junkie? Twinkies Claim Another 13 Victims Hostess corporate spokesman defends controversial creme-filled sponge cake, but mounting scientific evidence links mass murder to unregulated transfats Witness: Hassan yelled “I want a candy bar” during spree Kraft, Kelloggs, Hersheys bracing for lawsuits Are you raising a potential Cereal Killer? Nutritionists show you how to cut your kids’ sugar intake to prevent another bloodbath

No Country For Old Men From Fort Hood to Waco to Dealey Plaza to Bush Compound, death is a way of life in the Lone Star State Statistic: Texas still lags in access to public broadcasting Download Morning Edition’s exclusive in-depth podcast, complete with mournful banjo dirge interlude

Lessons of Ft. Hood: Military Bases Need More Mental Health Professionals