Bush and Dick

Phillipe's father's relatives were staunch Philadelphians who, no doubt, are twirling in the their graves as the Republican Convention descends upon the City of Brotherly Love like a plague of greedy Philistine locusts. Indeed, P. was born just outside Philly, albeit a few trust funds south of the Main Line -- and spent some of his wonder years there, before the GOP turned it into the best spot to take your skin for a crawl this week.

Since there's so much to report among the numerous Bush & Dick carnival items, here are some snapshots from what we perceive as a cross between a beer hall putsch, cross-burning and Shell Oil board of directors meeting:

* File under "Daddy's AND Mommy's Boy." Maureen Dowd's column in the New York Times of July 30 recounts a wonderful story about how much Dubya resembles his father (i.e., being born on third base and thinking he's hit a triple). When Georgie Boy went to Republican Candidates School in 1978 (yes, boys and girls, these things exist) when he was running for Congress, classmate David Dreier, now a US representative from California, tells how Dubya ran up to him while very excited and said he had a great new fund-raising scheme: "I've got the greatest idea for how to raise money for the campaign. Have your mother send a letter to your family's Christmas card list. I did, and just got $350,000!" Good idea, Georgie! And they made you president of the Texas Rangers baseball team even though you were a limited partner, because they respected your business skills, not the drag your father had with fat cats everywhere.

* The perfect storm troopers. At least Dubya picked someone who can lie with facility in Dick Cheney, who would rather have cop killer bullets than Nelson Mandela in the free world. It would be easy to call Cheney a racist, but he doesn't like ANYONE who isn't white, male and rich. So let's just say he's anti-everyone, except his buddy, Daddy George, and his cronies. (And who do you think made his little boy choose this mean-spirited kaffir-basher for a running mate?) P&J are amazed that he could go on NBC Sunday and say, about his vote to keep cop-killer bullets on the market, "I don't want to say I'm absolutely for cop-killer bullets. I'm clearly not."

Well, we find it kind of hard to be "sorta" for cop-killer bullets, and voting to keep them on the market for every terrorist and militia moron in the country is not what we would call "clearly' being against them. Kee-rist, is there anyone in the media who will call these a-holes on these kind of statements? Obviously not. The Tim Russerts and Bob Scheiffers don't want to get shut out of future interviews if these Big Oil Boys get elected.

* Why dinosaurs are extinct. Great article in the Urinal by Christopher Rowland on the GOP delegates' train trip to Philly for the convention. Any time you can get a chance to see Eileen "Jurassic Spice" Slocum in action, it's worth the fare. Jurassic Spice is the GOP's answer to the doyenne of the Dems, Eleanor Slater, and would be Slater's intellectual equal, provided Eleanor immediately checks in to get a lobotomy. It's no wonder Vo Dilun's Republican Party continues to go nowhere fast, with Jurassic Spice, Governor Bigfoot (again The Missing Linc in Philly), and Monsieur Pompadour, John Holmes, at the helm.

* In denial. P&J and all our superior friends were quite pleased to see that Cheney's 31-year old daughter, Mary, has previously declared that she's gay. Not so her mommy, Lynne, who attacked Cokie Roberts when the Cokester brought it up on her Sunday morning chattering heads show on ABC. "Mary has never declared such a thing," fumed Lynne when Cokie asked if it bothered her. Needless to say, that answered the question quite well.

* Black like me? The GOP's version of the Rev. Al Sharpton, retired Gen. Colin Powell, gave a real stemwinder address. His histrionics reminded us of Regis Philbin on a had-too-much-coffee day, and we half expected to see an 800 number for donations on a crawl at the bottom of the screen while he was preaching. Powell was rightly lauded for demanding that his party make a legitimate effort to reach out to minorities. And also for praising Dubya for appearing before the NAACP, declaring the Republicans hadn't been living up to the Lincoln legacy. What he didn't mention, however, is that most GOP policies and stances offer little to minorities. Sure, c'mon over to our side, even if everything we stand for flies in the face of your needs and desires. It'll be a great photo op -- for us.

* Right angle. Deserving as the late Senator John Chafee was of the tribute on the opening night of the convention, the pride of Vo Dilun must be chuckling from on high that Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott was the one who delivered it. Lott paid tribute by noting that Big Jawhn left a lasting legacy that "touches us all." Too bad none of Chafee's more progressive initiatives (on guns, the environment, the arts, etc.) touched Lott while Chafee was still alive. As we recall, Lott was one of the leaders of the group that was so eager to spank Chafee for refusing to toe the ultra-right wing line.

Celebrity wrestling. Possibly the only sniping we'll see at this convention between the cosmetic "big tent" crowd and the hard right-wing GOP has to do with some of the celebrity choices made by the Bush crowd. L. Brent Bozell III, head ramrod of the reactionary Parent's Television Council has already registered his displeasure with the selection of that World Wrestling and literary world phenomenon, the Rock, to introduce House Speaker Dennis Hastert at the opening session.

Bozell's complaint is that the Rock is known for hurling obscenities and chairs about the squared circle while making demeaning comments about women. Your superior correspondents can't help thinking that, in their heart of hearts, this exactly the way that many of the right-wing males of the party would like to act if they weren't in the business of trying to win an election.

Drawing a bad crowd

Your superior correspondents are absolutely appalled by the abrupt and jarring change in the look of the Rex Morgan, M.D. comic strip, featured daily in the Urinal. The new team of Woody Wilson and Graham Nolan have exchanged the endearing and wonderfully Eisenhower Age- look of the strip into a po-faced, rubbishy metallic-head style that renders Rex, his lovely bride June, and the other characters into caricatures that make Barbie and Ken seem downright realistic. Not only that, but they changed June's hairdo. This put P. in bed for three days with cold compresses on his forehead, and crushed Valiums in applesauce, washed down by liberal doses of Pernod and grapefruit, in his gullet.

P&J hereby demand that everyone in Vo Dilun boycott the BeloJo until Rex Morgan, M.D. is sent to join Jiggs and Maggy, and Charles Schulz, in cartoon heaven, or is at least replaced by something with obvious class, like Zippy. Then again, what do you expect from editors who think "Lifestyles," "Live" and Parade are of interest to their readers? We're sure Chuck Mahoney, our old pal and comics maven, will be the first to pull the plug on his subscription.

Hero to whore

P&J took solace in the fact that John McCain was virtually shouted down by people at the "shadow convention" in Philly when he tried to explain why he was endorsing Boy George. We once had respect for McCain, but not after he conveniently forget that Bush's crowd called him insane, characterized his wife as a junkie, and called his daughter a wog (in so many words) -- much as Dubya sucked up to the son of the vile Bob Jones, who once called his Daddy "the Antichrist." McCain's patriotic heroics aren't enough to overcome the revulsion that results when he goes pimping for Bush. Go home, sit down and shut up before more people notice you've gone belly-up. Please. Maybe we'll all get amnesia as well.

Getting hammered

Phillipe and Jorge are saddened to learn that our favorite spot for procuring libations, Page's combination liquor and hardware store in Jamestown, has decided to close the hardware section of this unique pairing of retail outlets. This means, of course, that the store's motto, as suggested by P&J, "Why don't we get drunk and screw," will be forfeited until someone else with such a special knack for cross-marketing comes along. Sleep tight, Jimmy Buffett.

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