Norma: "I *am* big. It's the *pictures* that got small." Sunset Boulevard (1950)
Excuse my absence, but I needed to be down for a few weeks to reestablish myself in my own skin and fully integrate myself into my autumnal mode, which I have neglected shamefully until nearly too late. September was long and lovely here in the south of France and October has been absolutely spectacular. I am back, however, to take up my quill, to regale myself (if no one else) with my slanted observations on a world gone rude. That last phrase has a long history: "*** gone rude". Many subjective
centuries ago I discovered an inexpensive line of summer wear that was all labeled, 'Dog Gone Rude", complete with a variety of cartoon illustrations on each article showing a dog in some state/activity of 'rudeness'. The clothes were extremely comfortable, very inexpensive and, at the time, the conceit of the 'dog gone rude' imagery amused me. The clothes have long since disappeared, from both my wardrobe and store shelves, of course, but the phrase has remained active in my vocabulary. I began using it to describe a select few of my male friends who exhibited 'dog gone rude' qualities (which are highly amusing and desirable but "misunderstood" by the world at large). In my jargon, it is a high compliment; no one receives better than that, until and unless the day arrives when StopMyBreath sweeps down out of the sky, rescues me from an impossible situation, wants to have sizzling-hot sex and then disappear so as not to complicate things, i.e. my marriage. That being highly unlikely, I reserve "dog gone rude" and "good dog gone rude" for men I like, respect, and whose friendship I enjoy. As of this date, there are only two: a lawyer in Miami and a dear friend in Avignon (there is a third, but as he teaches at a medieval Jesuit prep school in Ohio [think rum, sodomy & the lash], he has to hide his rudeness, which defeats the point, n'est-ce pas?). Others have come and gone, but these two remain (+1), as faithful in their friendship as they are in their rudeness. "Ya haf to luv 'em," or at least I do.I have no use for whiners, none. I watched 'The Lord of the Rings' again recently and was struck
by how much I instinctively dislike the character of Frodo. I should add that I do not remember disliking him in the book, so perhaps it is just that moppet Elijah Wood that I dislike (or the director's take on Frodo). Always whining, always assuming a superiority he does not possess, and when in trouble, screaming for help from real men (other hobbits, elves, dwarves, sorcerers & humans) because, "oh, woe is me, I'm just too overwhelmed to deal with it and you owe me anyway". What a maroon, as Bugs would say. Quit screaming like a little girl and kill that orc, as I would say. Useless, absolutely useless to everyone on the team, including himself, so that if it wasn't for the ring he would be considered dead baggage to be dumped at the first opportunity. Other than this terrible casting (?) flaw, the extended-version (DVDs) of the three films is breathtaking and seems like a different, better movie.You may not have noticed, but speaking of Bugs Bunny, I read in the news that Tasmanian devils are on the edge of extinction because of a facial cancer their immune systems can no longer combat. I can only speak for myself, but the "Taz" was always one of my favorite Looney Toons characters, a true 'good dog gone rude' for whom I had
immense affection. I hope the real ones survive, it would be yet another shameful mark on our record of stewardship (which is solid black now, anyway) of this planet. Which, of course, brings up Al Gore, Jr. Yeah for him, I say. Oscars, Emmy & now a Nobel Peace prize: the guy is on a roll, I hope he continues. I see that all the pundits and an unsurprisingly influential group of people are pressing him to run again for President; my question is, why? The entire world knows he was robbed in broad daylight in 2000, pouted a bit, but got back on the horse and does what he thinks he needs to do. As my (rude) father used to tell my (very competitive, professional athlete) sister, "pull up your pantyhose and get tough, girl." Gore has now been publicly 
beatified as few are, so can anyone tell me why he would want to demote himself to president when, as a private (but very public) citizen he can concentrate on that which he wishes to change? He is also one of the very rich, another reason to keep an iota of his personal privacy.The point being, why go back when you can continue to go forward?Here in the DHOSF, no one has remarked much on either the doomed Tasmanian animals or Al Gore, Jr. Lately it has been the rugby world cup which dominates interest here, along with the usual string of not-so-usual crimes that make "la Une". Sarkozy pisses off Putin (of course, everyone pisses off Putin), "surprisesurprise" the mobile telephone companies are vicious, amoral vampires, a woman kills her 7-yr old daughter by throwing her out of a very high window to prevent her soon-to-be ex-husband from taking her (the child, he managed to rescue another child 9 yrs old) to Morocco, Prince Harry is snapped sniffing vodka in Morocco (a fad among the young, it seems - the alcohol enters the brain directly- what, it isn't quick enough?), etc. Dispiriting, to say the least. I note that the Vatican has rehabilitated the Templars, for God's sake. The Templars! 700 years late, but
by my holy triple tiara, the Vatican finally arrives, eh? What with one thing or another, I can only hope Satan has rebuilt a large section of one of his inner circles as a mock-up of Vatican City for those princes of the church so out of touch they concern themselves with rehabilitating a medieval military order, canonizing any miraculous tortilla maker in Latin America and ignoring the last two centuries. Jesus wept.In the last year, I have been ordained a minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanism, awarded a doctorate in Demonology and Exorcism from Landover Baptist University, checked on the status of my real estate holdings on the Moon, etc., by grace, of course, of the Internet. What a wonderful toy, as even this blog attests, and it amuses me to collect these rare and wonderful orchids of total tomfoolery and far-fetched folly. Just remember, please, it (the Internet) is only us, after all, en masse, and thus gifted with neither omniscience, discernment nor common sense. Call it a group holding fantasy, if you like. I enjoy it immensely but it is not real life and never will be, despite all the virtual reality prophets out there. My mother trusted the Internet, and look what happened to her (see picture in column at left), poor thing, she thought technology was the answer. After all, it had provided diet pills (pure methamphetamine) and "hallelujah!" hysterectomies in the '60s, had it not? However, I must admit that Devi (I must finally admit that Devi, as seen in the photo at left as my "girlfriend", is the same woman pictured as my fourth wife. Yes, she likes different looks
from time to time, but her thirst for precious jewels always remains the same) found a wonderful clinic in Switzerland (on the Internet), chose her new look, and voilà the results (at right). I can live with it, it is far from displeasing (a friend in the USA told me "this is exactly how I picture her after hearing her voice"), so I decided, "oh hell, why not?" and went myself. I took my old Hollywood poster of Errol Flynn in "The Adventures of 
Robin Hood" and said, "Look, I know I am older, and hardly the ideal starting place, but get as close as you can, I will be satisfied." Here is how I came back, but they had to remove my penis to provide enough tissue and blood vessels for the new chin and facial structure. Win some, lose some.Creeping up on my absolutely favorite holiday, Halloween, I wish everyone jolly rogering, ectoplasmic ecstasy and ghostly good times. If you do not get the joke in that line, you are officially hopeless. Until the next,
Leducdor
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