NewsFlash: A Serum Made From Toxic Botulism Can Kill And Make You Sick! Who'd A Thunk?

Gee, when I think of something like Botox/botulism which can cause a miserable death, I just don't simultaneously think, "Wow, let me inject it into my face on a regular basis. And, while I'm at being effing moronic, let me have those injections done by a person who didn't necessarily graduate high school who buys this shit off the black market where who the bleep knows WHAT you're getting and then there's that question about whether the needle used is sterile."

Yup.

Granted, perhaps I may reach a day when I feel I MIGHT do something silly - not deadly silly, thank you - to look younger. But that day isn't here - thank God for some genes, eh? - and I'm hoping it does not happen. When it does, injecting botulism into my face for kicks won't be a consideration.

Now, also granted, botulism is used FOR actual medical purposes. I in fact once had a severe muscle problem where it was considered as a short-term "fix" to stop spasms that responded to nothing else. Some of the folks who've died, in fact, were medical rather than plastic surgical users. But anyone who HAS a different option probably isn't racing out to use Botox, and men and women with a few character lines shouldn't either.

Good Night, Norman Mailer

It is with profound sadness I report that literary genius, Norman Mailer, has died; he was 84.

Mailer at his best was really beyond comparison. Some found him too controversial but to me, he was a complex man who examined tough issues, did not look for easy answers, and went where his mind, heart, and soul took him. Like the rest of us, he had demons to exorcise.

Some of my favorites of his were "Tough Guys Don't Dance" and "Executioner's Song" which focused on the Gary Gilmore execution, perhaps one of most media-intensive of this nation's sad love affair with capitol punishment.

Definitely a one of a kind, I know I will miss him greatly.

Thank you and good night, Mr. Mailer.

Falwell Dies; Satan and St. Peter Are Already Barring The Gates From His Entrance

[Ed. note: I posted this elsewhere. And, btw God, this was not bad, but I'm still hoping for the birthday gift I requested. Still, thank you.]

As the good folks at Cernig's Newshog point out, most of us have been well-trained to not speak ill of the dead (although, as they suggest, they wonder if the nutcase Fred Phelps will picket the funeral) which can make it damned tough to comment on the death of "moral" majority leader and radical right extremist, Jerry Falwell.

Still, I find it hard to be quiet about a man who talked of love but spewed only hate, who called himself godly but was more like the Judas Iscariot radical right fundamentalist bullshit rather than exhibit any of the best qualities of Jesus. A man (I'll grant him that much) who would smile at you at the same time he stabbed you in the back.

Also, Farwell was the (relatively) rare person for whom the entire world was a much nastier, nightmarish place for his existence. Sadly, he isn't alone there; we still have Dobson, Pat Robertson, Ted Haggard, among others.

Let me end this post by stating my fervent belief that, wherever Jerry's headed, I can assure you that it's NOT heaven. I'm not convinced Hell would take him either (Satan can't hold a candle to Falwell in terms of nasty hellishness).

And So It Goes

For those, like me, already missing the bloody hell out of Kurt Vonnegut, let me point you to this lovely picture (courtesy of First Draft) of the man for whom "Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time", who welcomed us into the Monkeyhouse and to the Player Piano and into Mothernight, served me endless portions of "Breakfast of Champions", who bore our "Palm Sunday", shared the strange life of Kilgore Trout many times not to mention introduced us to Mr. Rosewater, who made me love Indianapolis simply because he did, delighted me with Timequake and, oh yes, "God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian", a slim novel I cannot recommend highly enough.

And, once more, speaking for KV:

"Ting-a-ling, god damn it! Ting-a-ling!"

Good Night, Larry "Bud" Melman

The man behind one of David Letterman's old semi-regular comic routines back when he was on NBC, Larry "Bud" Melman, has died.

Although the man made the jump over to CBS when Letterman did, "Melman's" character name was changed to "Calvert DeForrest" to avoid a lawsuit by NBC. He didn't appear a lot, however, once Letterman had the new show. I've missed him.

Thank you and good night, Mr. "Melman", wherever you are.