Musings of the Great Gonzo

I have always been a fan of the classic movie Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory . There is something vaguely disturbing about the maniacal way Gene Wilder conducts the tour of the magical chocolate factory. This is a movie that shows moral degeneration, full of veiled threat, and darkly perverse in a candy-coated kind of way. This week photos surfaced of Presidential Candidate John Kerry. In them he sports a new tan that, well, has a distinctly orange hue. It kind of reminds me of this evil little people in the Willy Wonka movie. You know the ones that make the chocolate, work in the research labs, and see to the naughty children that go astray of dear Mr. Wonka's rules. Do you get the feeling that the distinguished gentleman from Massachusetts is trying too hard to be liked by the ladies? Maybe he is feeling a bit over-shadowed by his running mate John Edwards' sway with the female voters. If that's the case it isn't working. Consider this quote from Ly...

Here's an off-the-wall musing I turned in for a project in a class I am taking online. I told you some of my stuff would be like this! Twenty-five years ago I attended college at the University of Missouri – Columbia. My intent was to obtain a degree in Journalism. I had spent several years on the newspaper and yearbook staffs of my High School and had won several student awards for both sports and feature articles I had written. On the strength of these awards and articles, I was offered a student correspondent position on the campus newspaper The Maneater. In late 1980 and early 1981, I wrote many articles for The Maneater. I wrote articles ranging from coverage of Missouri Tiger football games to the proper way to wash a beer glass. All of these stories were written on an old Royal manual typewriter. My father had given me the old typewriter as a gift the year I was accepted as a writer for the High School newspaper. As a firefighter for a small town outside of S...

Let's get something straight right at the get-go. I was only 7 years old at the height of the Vietnam War. I did not serve, nor did I dodge the draft. Documents will never surface alleging that I improperly avoided service. Nor will witnesses come forward to tell stories of my cowardice in the face of the enemy. When I was 7 years old I was happily scampering after my dog in the back yard, not trudging through tangled underbrush in a tropical downpour, gun slung over my shoulder. I don't remember the War, Hell I doubt that I even knew there was one at that age. Now, thirty-five year later a great deal of noise is being made about two soldiers' performances during that war. The funny thing is, only one side of the political landscape seems to be making the noise. And that side seems to think that thirty-five years later, America will care about a War they would rather forget. Why build a campaign around this black spot on American history? Why puff out your chest and p...