Simon Cowell Sorts Out North Korea, Obama

In New Zealand, our episodes are behind the US schedules. Last night we got the first of the girls’ top-12 shows.

For the thousandth time, I was thinking thinking that Simon Cowell gets it, says it, and sorts it. His annoying black skin-tight shirts aside, the guy suffers no BS or fools.

Made me think how great it would be if he was Speaker of the House. Better, if he actually ran the country and had ultimate power – picture Singapore under Lee Kuan Yew. I can hear President Powell…

To Nancy Pelossi: “If I’m being honest, I couldn’t listen to what you were saying because I kept wondering if you would ever blink. Song choice is more important than face lifts.”

To President Obama: “I found it a bit indulgent. ‘Yes we can’ may be a terrific campaign song, but, really, it’s mindless toss. And you’re far too skinny for an important black man. How can we take you seriously for the long run?”

To Iran and North Korea: “Let’s get real. You have nukes. You are insane. You need to be stopped. You are going home.”

It would work, eh?

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The news comforts me yet…

– The young child who was allowed to direct traffic at JFK airport had ADULT SUPERVISION. No worries then, mate.

– All 5,000 of the nekkid Aussies photographed outside the Sydney Opera House now have their kit back on. Many of them should not even SHOWER in the nude. In the Outback. At night. Ever.

– That madcap Sasha Cohen won’t be presenting at the Oscars. With time on his hands, maybe he could do his skits for a group with a bigger sense of humor, like the NRA. Or Iran.

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Simple solutions are the best solutions

Scattershooting while honouring the winner of today’s award for best email from the US:

Here’s a solution to the controversy over full-body scanners at airports:

Develop and install booths that you can step into that will not X-ray you but, instead, detonate any explosive devices that you might have on or in your person.

This would be a win-win for everyone, and (since everyone would have to pass through these booths) there would not be any issues about race-, ethnic- or other profiling. Plus, there would be no need for an expensive trial. Justice would be quick and robust.

MY COMMENT – There simply has to be some application of this technology for use in presidential primaries.

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Recessed about the Depression or thereabouts

Reuters today said U.S. consumer confidence is the lowest it’s been since 1983. Sounds about right. One friend lost her part-time job in December, and there is NOTHING in sight. Two other friends still have jobs but say business is getting harder and harder and paying less and less.

And here, Down Under in New Zealand, I’ve quit a big job that didn’t suit, ended 30 years on deadline, and set out to rebrand, re-invent and revitalize mah own self. Right in the midst of a global depression/recession/shit storm. It’s all veddy scary.

Then I remember my grandma Moew’s favorite story, which she must have told me a hundred times. When my granddad died in the 1930s, she had $10 in the bank, three kids, and no business skills. Sure, she could pick cotton, and cook and clean and wash and care for her family, but making a living?

Miraculously, she made it – cooking at Oklahoma University fraternity houses until she was in her 70s. She worked and scrounged relentlessly, and when she died left her three kids a paid-for house and impressive bankroll to divvy up.

I wish Moew’s story could have been in Chicken Soup for the Soul’s Count Your Blessings edition. But maybe it wouldn’t have been warm and fuzzy enough. Her story included abuse, hard ugly times, self denial, isms and emotional blackmail. But it continues to amaze and inspire me. She was a tough old lady who saved my life.

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Happy Shih Tzu!

Sounds like a holiday greeting, in China maybe? But way down in New Zealand, Cassie is our Happy Shih Tzu.

Like many Shih Tzu’s, Cassie has crappy genes. Bless her heart, for all her 12 years, she’s spent more time scratching her itches than Tiger Woods. No homeopathic salve or store-bought medicine has cleared up her skin problems.

And in the last year or two, her eyes have gone buggy. So often itchy, infected, or covered with matter. Or filled with medicines. And now the lights seem to be going out. Cassie looks but does not see, or probably won’t for much longer.

And yet I wish I could be as happy as this fuzzball of bad genetics.

Cassie is always smiling. Her tail is always wagging. Even if she’s been scolded for having an accident (she IS an old lady – what – 84?). Within microseconds she’s back in waggy mode.

I don’t think this is a Chinese thing. No, my Chinese wife does not wag her tail all the time, though she is doubtless happier than her gweiloh husband. And not all Shih Tzu’s I’ve known were perpetually happy. Our Ling Ling dog, who died at 14 last year, was supremely content and irresistibly cute. But not always waggy. Not happiness personified, er, dogified.

Nope, I think it’s just Cassie. If I weren’t Catholic and believed in reincarnation, I’d like to come back as Cassie. Despite the itches and bad genetics, I’d be happy. Happy every day. Happy just to be with my pack. Happy when alone and rubbing my face on the carpet. Happy when on my side, pretending to run (when I don’t think anyone is watching me).

Happy Cassie. That would be me.

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