On Wisconsin -"Get Christie, Love!"

The Madison hullabaloo is not about 'collective bargaining.' It is a get out the vote, stir the base, and marshal the ground forces for the 2012 President Obama Presidency.

The key issue is destroy New Jersey Governor Chris Christie, who is the biggest thing to hit that State since the Zeppelin. Governor Christie is the anti-Obama. He speaks plainly and allows deeds to follow his words. Christie is not a 'teaching moment' kind of guy, because he understands the frustrations of hard working people who know exactly what causes economic disaster - a pipe fitter's paycheck can not keep pace with subsidizing other peoples necessities. Taxes are the bubonic plague of our times. Taxes come from political opportunists seeking to broaden their constituencies by having their jobs, food, medicine, schooling, and behavior paid for by working people.

Chris Christie has succeeded where other elected officials have failed,from Barack Obama to Sarah Palin. Both President Obama and Sarah Palin are effective preachers to the choirs. Chris Christie is a mechanic.

In order to destroy the Christie work ethic, the choir masters of both parties need to discredit Governor Walker's work to fix Wisconsin's debt by addressing the role of public employee constituencies that form the base of the Democratic National Committee and the President's agenda - which is playing rope-a-dope ( i.e. Obama's budget) with Congress, while attempting to mirror democratic efforts in the Mid East.
Likewise, the GOP powers that be - the folks who love to blow their own toes off with gusto like John McCain -will allow Walker to 'dangle.'

Anyone who has read even a Classic Comics version of labor history knows that when the United Mine Workers under John L. Lewis eclipsed the American Federation of Labor's power by dint of numbers of members and the dues that came along Big Labor has been more than a player in American life, it was the obstetrician who gave birth to the American middle class and the American Standard of Living. The ALF-CIO was born in 1886 when the Knights of Labor organized the skilled workers of America - skilled tradesmen: meat cutters, carpenters, electricians, engineers, drovers, and teamsters, glaziers and boilermakers. The Congress of Industrial Organization organized the factory, mine and mill workers - often considered unskilled labor.

Both labor forces were pitted against -not their neighbors, but the owners of American Capital - Carnegie, Rockefeller, DuPont, Vanderbilt and Armour. Private capital was forced to bargain -collectively- with labor.

Public salaried and tax-fueled unions came into being in the 1970's. The SEIU was born in 1973,out of the old Chicago Janitor's Union Local 25, when Toronto-based Trotskyite and former aide to George Meaney,Eugene Moats forced out President Tom Ryan and raided the local. Moats called the janitors, not Brothers and Sisters, but Comrades. Soon the union was run, not by union men and women, but by University of Pennsylvania sociologists - Andy Stern and his acolytes. Public labor grew and so did the debt of governments along with the power of numbers and dues -like John L. Lewis. Andy Stern is no John L. Lewis -Lewis was a coal miner and threw the communists out of the CIO. Andy Stern is the polar opposite. Soon government employees clerks, secretaries & etc. were organized and they got their pay from their neighbors - carpenters, auto-workers, machinists & etc.
Taxes fuel debt and the political power of Stern's Unions. The Democratic National Party and at the State levels made alliances with Tax-salaried unions. Interestingly, Moats was ousted for corruption -or charges of corruption.* The media played a big role and agreed to identify Labor universally as SEIU -or Big Labor. The skilled trades went along with that - some power was still some power. (NPR is going after Walker and the critics of Planned Parenthood as well -click my post title)



Andy Stern's PAC Power is not about the American Standard of Living won by the blood and bruises of Real Labor - it is a web that uses Palestinian/Israel misery/Gay Marriage/Green Eco-Nonsense/Race/Gender/ and anything else that wants to be co-opted in the web of power.

Chris Christie succeeded in putting the brakes on this run-away train of propaganda and power.

Wisconsin, Governor Walker, and the circus in Madison are all about 'Get Christie, Loves.'

I admire and respect real, genuine and honest American Labor - private sector, skilled, industrial workers made the American Middle Class. Andy Stern's SEIU model PACS are killing the middle class and American Labor, in my opinion.


FDR realized this and warned against public unions, but seems lost on the power players. John L. Lewis had nothing to do with Marxists, but times change and people ignore history - with the help of Bill Moyers and others.


The cat-calls in Wisconsin are familiar, but Madison is not Henry Ford's Flint, Michigan, or Republic Steel's slaughter of union families in Chicago, 1937 - the cat-calls are against genuine union people and their families, as well as Walker and especially Chris Christie.

*

Service Employees International Union. Eugene P. Moats was ousted from his position as President of the Service Employees International Union Local 25 in August 1996. Moats was charged by the International Union with misappropriation of funds and nepotism. It was alleged that Moats raised his salary without the permission of the Local Board. In addition, he was charged with converting union funds for personal use and bypassing more qualified candidates for well-paying union positions in favor of his family members. Secretary-Treasurer Richard Malkowski and 35 other Local officers were also suspended with pay. The 13,500 member Local, representing janitors and maintenance workers, many of whom are Eastern European immigrants and female, is one of the biggest Locals in Illinois.

Guess Who that might have been the gent bringing charges against Moats?

Janitors Union Chief Under Fire
March 01, 1996|By Stephen Franklin, Tribune Staff Writer.
Zdzislaw Lagodzinski was one of the angriest of the angry Thursday. The dark-haired, broad-shouldered 70-year-old janitor didn't just want the head of union boss Eugene Moats; he wanted his whole body.

"If this were Eastern Europe, we would walk in, put him in a wheelbarrow and take him out of his office," he grumbled in Polish as his co-workers eagerly nodded in agreement.

Lagodzinski makes $5.45 an hour cleaning suburban office buildings. Moats, who is a year older and is president of Service Employees International Union Local 25, makes $250,000 from two union jobs.On Thursday, Moats, one of the state's most influential union leaders had security guards and lawyers to protect him from any form of harm at a hearing on his future.

His reputation among many of the 16,000 Chicago-area janitors in the local already is tarnished, and his 22-year reign as its leader is at stake. Dissident members see him as a symbol of union extravagance and indifference. They say he has padded his payroll with family members and let the local to fall deeply in debt to its parent union. They put the figure at over $600,000. Moats says it is lower.

Thursday's session was to have been the second convened in recent weeks by the international union on internal charges filed by Moats' opponents. When it was abruptly canceled over legal questions raised by Moats without a new date being set, the anger among onlookers stayed at a boiling point.

Some janitors jeered and shouted and tailed Moats as he left yelling, "We are poor people. What are you doing to us?" Moats' supporters growled back, telling the others they are being deceived.

Feelings are strong, the janitors said, because the local has imposed a special dues collection effort to help pay off its debt. "Why take the money from me, those people have it all," said one middle-aged women, referring to Moats and other union leaders.

The squabble is ironic in that the SEIU likes to portray itself as a new, progressive voice for woman and minorities and low-wage workers.

Nearly two-thirds of Local 25 members are from Eastern Europe, mainly Poland. The rest are largely Latino or African-American. Most of its members are women.

The son of a Chicago janitor, Moats was a former aide to AFL-CIO leader George Meany when he was named a union trustee of Local 25 in 1973.

http://articles.chicagotribune.com/1996-03-01/news/9608100150_1_janitors-union-leaders-eastern-europe
http://www.thelaborers.net/COIA/magazines/traditional_organized_crime_in_chicago.htm

Watch World Champion Idiot Chris Matthews Loudmouth Down the Truth on Abortion - "Let's Go to the Facts . . .Until They Show Up" . .

Watch this loudmouth slob, MSNBC clown Chris Matthews*, bully a guest, invited to get at "the facts" about Abortion and House vote to de-fund ( about time) Planned Parenthood and then shout down the woman from the Susan B. Anthony List and shill for the abortion industry -paid for with Federal dollars.

This gutless jerk "likes to narrow the discussion a little bit" - as narrow as his pinhead.

As to Rep. Jackie Speier's testimony on the heartbreak of her procedure -abortion. Ms. Speier was losing her child when it became detached from her uterus in the 17th week of pregnancy. My late wife Mary had the same thing happen in LaPorte Hospital in 1990. Ms Speier agonized and chose to terminate the baby. My wife Mary lost our baby -there is a difference. Two years before, Mary's obstetrician suggested that she terminate our son because he might be born with defects, or horror of horrors, have Down Syndrome. Mary terminated her employment of this woman obstetrician and hired another doctor. Big difference.



*

In fact, in his book, "Now let me tell you what I really think," Mr. Matthews reveals that he is not a principled Catholic, but a permissive liberal who has embraced the cultural radicalism of the 1960s. On abortion, he chooses to have it both ways. Although he believes abortion should be limited, he believes it should be made legal, safe and constitutionally protected. Mr. Matthews also champions homosexual rights, affirmative action and the benefits of "safe sex" — most notably in the fight against AIDS in Africa. It is ironic, however, that he fails to support the one approach that would dramatically curtail the spread of the deadly disease on the African continent: abstinence.

Yet, if Mr. Matthews wants to advance his liberal agenda, then that is his right. But he does not have the right to present himself in a public forum as a "Catholic." Public figures who profess to be Catholics have a duty to bear witness to the authentic teachings of the Catholic Church. This also holds true especially if they have positions of prominence in the media or in government.

Collect Bounty on Cheesehead Skipping Senators!

The Wisconsin Democrat Senators are seeking asylum in Chicago's sanctuary city. They skipped out on the Madison vote.

I know many unemployed skilled tradesmen and laid off City and Cook County workers.

Perhaps they might track down these scoff-laws for Gov. Walker's Rangers. I listened to one goof say that he was calling into ABC from a 'secure' location outside of Madison. Really. A secure location in Wisconsin runs in all four directions of the Dairy State - has any FIP ( Fine Illinois Person) ever got a straight answer from Sven or Bastien when asking directions from County Road FF to County Road Square Route of IX? 'Yeh, take dat dirt road past Weaver's Dairy dere and go on it until it forks, you can' miss it, den go right again.' What could be more clear?

With Democrats saying they won't return before Saturday, it was unclear when the Senate would be able to begin debating the measure meant to ease the state's budget woes. Democrats who disappeared Thursday at first kept their whereabouts secret, then started to emerge to give interviews and fan the protests.

Chicago Tribune report

Rat out the Skipping Senators and turn them in for a modest reward - Dells Coupons, Injun Casino Chips, Packer Wear, Nightcrawlers, or a couple of Wheels of Chedder - the State's broke. Here's a tip. You can sniff out the elusive Cheese Gobblers by asking these simple questions of anyone in the lobby at the Peninsula, Fairmont, or Swiss - remember, elected officials never stay at Regal 8.

Go up to a Moss-back looking Rube and ask,

Q. What is a barbecue in Appleton?

A. "Dat's a Fry. We have a steak fry by the Odd Fellows on Saturdays."

Q. Where can I get a cool drink of water?

A. " Over by dat Bubbler dere near da stairs, dere"

Q. Excuse me, I believe that I hit a small deer, or a large 'Coon.'
A. " Strap it on da bumper, eh! Bring it to da Fry over by da Odd Fellows, Bastien will dress it Swiss."

Restrain until extradition can be arranged. Make your deal with Governor Walker -get what you can. Do not drive them back yourselves, unless you wish to replay the Super Bowl. I think not.

Planned Parenthood's Abortions R Us TV Ad is Dead On and Honest

Abortion became a Woman's Health Choice thanks to grants from the Federal Government and America's Dowager Class.

The current coat hanger ad says it all and to the target market - aging, monied, chic, single women with an unwanted child after making love to a seed spilling gent.

Abortion is the Cosmetic Holocaust. This is what a back alley looks like to Planned Parenthood's Dowagers and the kids at at MoveOn.org:

Campaign Director Kat Barr said: 'This ad is a wakeup call. If Republican proposals go through, women could once again face fear and danger when it comes to their reproductive health." Horrors! SAX 5th Ave. caparisoned dowagers forced to pay for the murder of an unwanted child out of their own kick? Merciful gravy! This ad is chock full of irony and will be pulled by Planned Parenthood ASAP. A wake up call! Abortion is cosmetic surgery for self-absorbed dowagers. We get it.

It is well past time for Planned Parenthood to fund abortions for careless dowagers without any tax subsidy.

Chicago Code - The Irish Mob Meet-Up

"Remember it's the Ragen Colts your're dealing with. We have two thousand members between Halstead and Cottage Grove, and Forty-third and Sixty-third streets. We intend to run this district. Look out." - Ragen's Colts

The corridors of power in Chicago have long had the talons of Irish no-good-niks polishing their marble floors, after a good soaking with a stripping agent takes off the previous layer with a sound scrubbing of an abrasive pad placed under the high-speed disc of buffer, followed by a liberal dousing of the stone flooring with a high-quality wax applied with a stout and even distribution with wool-wand at the end of thick pole in the meaty hands of a stern steward, and finished by the replacement of the steel wool pad by the buffing element coursing its way under the power of the electric motor in ever widening circles, gyres and sweeps.
Ever widening gyres . . . Turning and turning in the widening gyre . . .Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; . . . Check that goof's card!

Yep, them corridors of power get polished up swell.

From the days of Big Mike McDonald, through the "hitters of Ragen's Colts and Ralph Sheldon's warring ways against the might of Spike O'Donnell and into the White House itself. The Gaelic spider looms its web of influence and intrigue and only now has television's Chicago Code revealed the true nature of the Arthropods of Erin.

I was privvy to one such exchange between the Original Gaels ( OGs) and I recorded this exchange.


Timmy ( speaking out of the left side of his mouth ) - " You got any . . .what that guy was talking about last week?"

Murph ( speaking to the left ear out of the right side of his mouth) - " No. He never mentioned what you're talking about."

Timmy - " That thing with the mailer. The one printed at that place over by Union."

Murph -"Never said nothing."

Timmy -" He said he told you,"

Murph - "We talking about the same guy? There were three guys there when we talked last at the St. John Fisher meeting about the Lent Fish Fry crews."

Timmy - " The Carmel guy, or the D (e La Salle Institute) guy?"

Murph -" No, his cousin that went to Marist - same name differnt guy."

Timmy - "Can he get my kid on?"

Murph - "On what?"

Timmy -"The trucks taking the mailers for our guy."

Murph -"What mailer?"

Timmy - "The mailer . . .what you think? Norman #$%^ing Mailer?"

Murph - 'Get a grip! Tone down. Who's mailer? The political guy, or the guy running the benefit for Houlie's kids?"

Timmy - "Houlie from Carmel?"

Murph - "No, Houlie what went to Quigley what's now St. Rita."

Timmy - "Can he get my kid on the trucks?"

Murph - "Not a chance. Hey, we never talked."

Thus, the Spider Murphy weaves his nefarious web.

Rahm of the North: Mountie Haul Snow Removal

ANNOUNCER:
In the Blizzard of Ought Eleven . . .that's 2011, DIBS was Gold up North. Men fought and clawed for an open space. Bringing Law and a shovel was Rahm of the North - Mountie Haul & Snow Removal! Let's join Rahn of North for another adventure up North!

Now, as gunshots echo across the windswept snow-covered regions of the wild Northwest, Goupon Puffed Coupons and Alison Davis Radical Real Estate, the breakfast deals shot from guns, presents The Challenge of the Flat-Iron! It's Loop Basil; swiftest and strongest lead dog of the north blazing the trail for Sergeant Rahm of the North Mountie Haul and Snow Removal Police, in his relentless pursuit of lawbreakers and DIBS jumpers!

SERGEANT:
On Basil! - On, you huskies!

ANNOUNCER:
Gold - gold - discovered in the North! A stampede to the North in the wild race for riches and a parking spot! Back to the days of the Blizzard and Gold Rush with Groupon Puffed Coupons and Alison Davis Radical Real Estate bringing you the adventures of Sergeant Rahm and his wonder dog, Basil of the Loop, as they meet The Challenge of the Flat-Iron.

(MUSIC)


BOY:
Extreee! Extreee! Hear all about it!

ANNOUNCER:
Yes, hear about how you fellows and girls can get a swell and complete miniature Model Affordable Housing Development.

GIRL:
It's the Groupon Model Development for Alsison Davis Radical Real Estate!

ANNOUNCER:
Groupon Puffed Coupons and Davis Pads - the swell tasting stuff shot from tax-payers; wallets - are making an almost unbelievable offer!

BOY:
You can get 46 different detailed, scaled models in all. Including buildings, equipment, and voters.

ANNOUNCER:
They're yours at no extra cost!

GIRL:
There's nothing to send in. No money, box tops, or coupons!

ANNOUNCER:
No waiting, either! Listen for full details in just a few minutes.

(MUSIC)


NARRATOR:
A light snow was falling as Ned Johnson entered his DIBS that was located about ten miles north of Ford City - staging area for the Mountie Haul and Snow Removal Police. As he disappeared into the entrance, the stealthy figure of a half-breed emerged from the falling snow. The Bridgeport half-breed -Irish/Lithuanian Conor Tiga hesitated only long enough to make sure that Ned's tracks led into the DIBS -(cleared out parking space marked out with debris). Then, shielding a match from the wind, he lighted a fuse that dangled from something he carried. Threw the bundle into the Parking spot and ran. Suddenly - there was the sound of an explosion!

F/X:
EXPLOSION

F/X:
AVALANCHE

NARRATOR:
Salt and snow tumbled down the hillside and the Dibs entrance was closed. At last there was silence, and the snow fell quietly and steadily, covering all signs of human footprints.

It was almost a week later that Sergeant Rahm of the Northwest Mountie Haul and Snow Removal sat with Ned's son Bob in their two-flat about a half mile away from the Dibs where the tragedy had occurred. A big black-and-white husky dog sat beside his young master, his head on the boy's knee.

F/X:
DOG PANTING

BOB:
Isn't it funny, Sergeant, the way dogs seem to know when you're unhappy? Blackie hasn't left my side since Dad died.

SERGEANT:
I hope you won't mind telling me all you know about your father's death, Bob. I know it was an accident, but I'd like to hear more, if you don't mind talking about it.

BOB:
I'd be glad to tell you anything, Sergeant. There really isn't much to tell. I went into Old Town with Uncle Jim for some supplies, and when we came back, Dad wasn't here. Uncle Jim lives in his own flat about a quarter mile from here, so he went right on home.

SERGEANT:
This is late afternoon?

BOB:
Yes, it was almost suppertime when we got back here. When Dad didn't come home, I got Uncle Jim, and we went to the Dibs to look for him. It was all caved in and, well, when we found Dad...

SERGEANT:
You don't have to tell me that part of it. Bob, I talked to your Uncle. Was your father ever careless with dynamite?

BOB:
Oh no, not at all, Sergeant. He never wanted me around when he was blasting it. I guess that's why he did it on the day I went to Old Town - he was always afraid I'd get hurt.

SERGEANT:
Something must have been wrong with the fuse. Of course, there are plenty of accidents like that, but your father always seemed so careful.

BOB:
He was. But I guess accidents can happen no matter how careful you are.

SERGEANT:
What are you plans, Bob?

BOB:
I'm going to stay right here. Uncle Jim thinks I ought to sell out to him and go to school, but I don't think so.

SERGEANT:
It might be a good idea, Bob. Would you like to go to college?

BOB:
Yes, and I intend to someday. But Dad was sure that there's a rich vein of parking in that Dibs, and I don't want to sell it. It would take a long time to dig it all out again. I'm eighteen, and I don't see why I can't work with Uncle Jim.

SERGEANT:
Well, I should think he'd want you to, he needs your help, doesn't he?

BOB:
Yes, but you see Uncle Jim and I don't get along too well. He doesn't like dogs, for one thing.

SERGEANT:
That's why you insist on living here alone in Bucktown, and not moving in with him.

BOB:
That's one reason. You see, Blackie doesn't like him, and I've always let Blackie stay in the flat with me.

SERGEANT:
Why doesn't Blackie like him?

BOB:
Uncle Jim kicked him once when Blackie was just a puppy. He's never forgotten it.

F/X:
KNOCKING ON DOOR

SERGEANT:
I see.

F/X:
DOG GROWL

BOB:
Calm down, Blackie-boy. Just a minute. Come on Blackie, I'll have to tie you up.

SERGEANT:
Is that your Uncle?

BOB:
Yes. When he comes in, I have to tie Blackie to the bed. Uncle Jim's afraid of him.

SERGEANT:
Oh.

BOB:
Come on. Easy now. There you are, boy, now lie down. All right, Uncle Jim, come in.

F/X:
BARKING

SERGEANT:
Quiet, Basil. Lay down, boy.

BOB:
Hello, Uncle Jim.

JIM:
Hello, Bob. Well, how are you, Sergeant?

SERGEANT:
Fine, thank you.

JIM:
Is that dog with you safe?

SERGEANT:
Of course. He won't hurt you.

JIM:
I never trust any of them. That dog of Bob's would just as soon take a hunk out of you just looking at you.

SERGEANT:
Dogs don't like people who are afraid of them. They always sense it.

JIM:
Well I can't help not likin' em. Makes me to think about Ned.

SERGEANT:
I understand.

JIM:
I've been trying to get Bob to move into my flat with me. I'm lonesome for him all alone here without his dad.

BOB:
I'm not lonesome as long as I have Blackie.

JIM:
Well I sure don't want HIM in my cabin. Even if he was gentle, he's too big. Ah, I swear Bob, I think that dog is the reason you don't want to get off to college.

BOB:
If I went, I'd take him with me.

JIM:
Hey Sergeant, maybe you can talk some sense into Bob. I'll give him money enough for his father's share of our mine to put him through college. After that, he'll have a profession. He'll be able to take care of himself.

BOB:
What do you think, Sergeant?

SERGEANT:
That's something you'll have to decide for yourself, Bob.

BOB:
I'll be out at the DIBS tomorrow to start work Uncle Jim, there big money to be made in parking.

JIM:
Well, all right. It's like the Sergeant says, I guess, it's up to you to decide.

NARRATOR:
Sergeant Rahm had gone back to Ford City the following day. For two days Bob had worked hard at the DIBS taking out the ice, snow and rubble. That night, snugly rapped in fur robes, he slept soundly in his flat with Blackie lying on the floor beside his cot. Suddenly the big dog raised his head in the darkness. His ears pricked forward, and a low growl rumbled in his throat. At the sound, Bob stirred and raised his head.

F/X:
DOG GROWL

BOB:
What's wrong, Blackie? You hear something, boy? Wait, I'll put my boots on. All right boy, I'll let you out. Suppose you heard some kind of animal, huh? Now wait till I light a match and find the door. There we are. Get him, boy.

F/X:
DOG BARKING

F/X:
STRONG WIND

BOB:
I'll find my gun - now, that the Supreme Court says it;s OK, but there are so many restrictions I might as well use a big plank. I better put a parka on. There we are. I'm coming, fella. Hold him, boy. What is it? You got something up that tree!

TIGA:
Take dog away! Him tried kill me.

BOB:
Tiga. Is that you?

TIGA:
Take dog away. Him chased me here!

BOB:
Back Blackie. Get back, boy. Now.

F/X:
DOG STOPS BARKING

BOB:
Why are you prowling around here at this time of night, Tiga? Come on down. I'll hold Blackie. Easy boy. Come here, come on.

F/X:
DOG GROWLING

TIGA:
Me go home now.

BOB:
But you live way over near the Bubbly Crick in Bridgeport, where real estate values have soared despite this lagging economy. What are you looking for? Did you drop something?

TIGA:
You take dog in cabin. Me fine. I went De La Salle and DePaul Law -covered good. Plenty drag.

BOB:
Here's something. I guess this is what you dropped. A knife.

TIGA:
Me pull knife when dog come.

BOB:
You've been drinking, Tiga. I'd better keep this knife for tonight. You go on home. I'll give it to you when you're sober.

TIGA:
Me want knife now.

F/X:
DOG GROWL

BOB:
Go on home, I said. Do you want me to let this dog go?

TIGA:
That my knife, you give back. I passed Bar on 4th try.

BOB:
I'll give you half a minute to leave, or I'll let this dog take care of you. Are you going?

TIGA:
Me go, me go. You be sorry. Hit me - hit ten thousand.

BOB:
All right. All right, boy, he's gone. Come on back in the flat. I wonder if he was trying to steal something. He is a De Paul grad. He was mighty close to our flat. I'm glad I have you, old boy.

NARRATOR:
It was the following evening. Blackie chained to the cot in the corner. Lay with his nose between his front feet. But his eyes followed every move Jim Rance made as he talked to Bob.

JIM:
I can't imagine what that half-breed Mick/Loogan could have been doing around here last night. He...he was probably trying to steal some candidate mailers out of your slot.

BOB:
He didn't go near the mail slot, Uncle Jim. I saw his tracks in the snow this morning. They led right to my door.

JIM:
He never liked your father, but that don't mean he'd hold a grudge against you. Wait a minute - he is half Irish; grudge is on!

BOB:
Why didn't he like Dad?

JIM:
Well, along time ago, your dad knocked him down. He caught him stealing election mailers out of the slot. I think he hit him for it.

BOB:
That's funny. I wonder why Dad never told me about it?

JIM:
I suppose he forgot about it.

BOB:
When did it happen?

JIM:
Oh...quite awhile ago...I don't remember exactly. I think, uh, we were on our way to Old Town for some supplies or something.

BOB:
But Dad always told me everything. That was certainly exciting enough; he'd hardly forget it.

JIM:
Maybe he thought it might make you nervous? Anyway, why don't you come over and live with me? It'll be safer.

BOB:
Oh I'm safe enough here Uncle Jim as long as Blackie's with me. I'd rather live by myself than give him up.

JIM:
Well, have it your own way. I won't stand for that dog in my tasfully appointed condo on Pinegrove, though. I guess I better get home now. We've got a hard days work ahead of us.

BOB:
We'll soon have the DIBS all cleaned out again.

JIM:
Ya.

BOB:
Should be able to start getting gold out pretty soon. Soon as parking opens/

JIM:
Yep, in a couple of days, I'd say.

BOB:
Do you want me to call for you on the way to the DIBS in the morning?

JIM:
No, no, I've got some work to do in my place - valances and sheers - in the morning. I'll be there later. You go on ahead and start work on the DIBS.

BOB:
All right. I'll try to get an early start.

F/X:
STRONG WIND

NARRATOR:
It was rather late the next morning when Bob walked hurriedly toward the DIBS, with Blackie frisking along beside him. As they approached a steep slope that loomed upside the path, a Norway rat darted out of the thickets. Blackie, with a joyful bark, pursued.

F/X:
DOG BARKING

BOB:
Get him, boy!

NARRATOR:
As the dog disappeared there was a sudden ominous sound from above.

F/X:
AVALANCHE

NARRATOR:
Rock, snow and ice came crashing down the side of the Flat Iron Building on North & Ashland! Bob was motionless with fright for a moment, then ran desperately to get out of the way of the avalanche. But a piece of ice struck him a glancing blow. He fell. Loose ice and snow showered over him, as he lay face down helpless and unconscious.

(MUSIC)


ANNOUNCER:
We'll continue our story in just a moment.

BOY:
Gee! Imagine Groupon Puffed Coupons and Alison Davis Puffed Places are offering everyone a complete miniature house of their own backed by banks that backed President Obama!

GIRL:
Golly! Look at those swell models you get right on these new packages!

ANNOUNCER:
Yes, kids - anyone can build these exciting models of buildings, equipment and voters - simply by getting these new packages of Groupon Puffed Coupons and Alsion Davis Puffed Real Estate. There are as many as six colorful models printed on a single package. And there are eight different packages. In all, 46 detailed scale models. And they don't cost a single extra penny. Who counts?

GIRL:
Look at all the models you get just on package number one!

BOY:
You get the Rusted Gate!

GIRL:
Boy, imagine being a four year old getting to play on a rusted gate!

ANNOUNCER:
What's more, these models are easy to build too! See - all packages are pre-cut and scored! Assembling is a cinch. No paste or glue is necessary.

BOY:
Boy! Look at that high rise on package number three. It's got a sliding door!

ANNOUNCER:
Yes, the big building has a sliding door - you were home schooled weren't you son?. Other buildings have windows and doors that open and close. And all models stand by themselves. Because no one takes care of them because we don't have to!

GIRL:
Gee - what fun you can have with this Federally backed and protected real estate!

ANNOUNCER:
That's right, Sandra. And best of all, anyone can start building these right away! There's no waiting - Nothing to send in either - No money, box tops, or coupons. All you do is get in with the right crowd usually of Hyde Park !

BOY:
Say! That's my favorite!

GIRL:
Mine too!

ANNOUNCER:
Well, what could be sweller? Now back to Sgt. Rahm of Mounties and Afghan Basil of the Loop!

(MUSIC)


NARRATOR:
Now, to continue our story.

F/X:
STRONG WIND

NARRATOR:
As the avalanche roared down the slope covering Bob Johnson, Blackie, returning from his pursuit of the rabbit, saw his master fall.

F/X:
DOG BARKING AND WHIMPERING

NARRATOR:
But by the time the big dog reached him, his body was completely covered by ice, snow and rubble. Frantically Blackie began to dig, whining and whimpering. At last he reached the fur hood of his master. Desperately the big dog tugged at it. Lifting Bob's face from the snow, only to have it drop back again. Blackie barked helplessly. He knew he couldn't drag the unconscious form from the thick heap pile above it. It was then that he heard the bark of a dog. And the sound of a dog team from the main trail that paralleled the path to the mine. Blackie raced toward the sound through the trees and barked frantically as he saw Sergeant Rahm approaching on the trail.

SERGEANT:
On Basil, Come you Husky. ????Well Blackie, where's Bob fella? That's strange, he seems to be in trouble. Want us to follow you boy?

NARRATOR:
Blackie running into the woods and then back towards the Sergeant, barked furiously.

SERGEANT:
On huskies!????

NARRATOR:
With Basil leading the way the Sergeant turned the dog team onto the side street over by Ashland and followed. When he reached the base of the Flat Iron, Blackie was standing beside the half-buried form of his master.

SERGEANT:
Whoa Basil?????huskies. It's Bob. Never mind Blackie, I'll get him out. I shovel like a demon! He's still alive. We'll get him home old boy, don't you worry.

NARRATOR:
It was some time later that Bob opened his eyes. He was lying in his cabin, and Sergeant Preston was standing beside his cot. King lay quietly in a corner. But Blackie licked his Master's hand and whined anxiously.

BOB:
How did you get here?

SERGEANT:
Easy Bob. I took Cicero north from Ford City to Archer and Archer to Ashland and North again . . .the only trouble was at Ogden and all the truck traffic.

BOB:
Sergeant Rahm? What happened?

SERGEANT:
You were caught in an avalanche. Should be able to sue the #$%^ out of the Flat Iron owners. Blackie must have heard me coming on the trail, and led me to you.

BOB:
Oh, I remember now. Something hit me. Ah, my head.

SERGEANT:
I bandaged it. You'll be all right soon. There were no bones broken, but you were badly bruised in spots, you were very lucky. Have cell phone phots done before the bruising goes away - I am a lawyer.

BOB:
Is Blackie hurt?

SERGEANT:
No, I guess he wasn't caught in it.

BOB:
I remember now. He chased a rat. And I heard what sounded like an explosion.

SERGEANT:
An explosion? . . .wait a minute. There are no rats in Chicago. You mean you heard the ice cracking off the buidling.

BOB:
Maybe that's what it was. Maybe I just imagined it, but it sounded like an explosion. Like somebody planted a blast on that roof to start an avalanche.

SERGEANT:
Did you see anyone around just before the avalanche?

BOB:
No...no, I didn't Sergeant.

SERGEANT:
It's lucky that Blackie was with you. Hadn't been for him coming to get us, you'd have smothered or frozen to death.

BOB:
It IS lucky that I have Blackie. I'm beginning to wonder if...

SERGEANT:
What were you going to say, Bob?

BOB:
I...guess I'm just imagining things.

SERGEANT:
Tell me what's bothering you.

F/X:
DOG GROWL

F/X:
BANGING ON DOOR

BOB:
Well I... It's Uncle Jim. Hand me Blackie's leash, will you please, Sergeant?

SERGEANT:
Glad to. Here it is. I'll let your Uncle in.

BOB:
Quiet boy - quiet. There you are.

JIM:
Hello Sergeant. I THOUGHT that was your team outside.

SERGEANT:
Come in Rance. Blackie's tied.

JIM:
You mean Bob is here.

SERGEANT:
Bob's hurt.

BOB:
Hello, Uncle Jim.

JIM:
Hey Bob, what happened?

BOB:
Didn't you hear the avalanche? It happened right near the DIBS. I got caught in it.

JIM:
Avalanche? Well no, I haven't been to the DIBS. I spent the whole morning working on my sheers and valances. I just came over here to borrow some tea. Are you hurt much?

SERGEANT:
His head was cut, but he'll be up by tomorrow.

JIM:
Could we take him over to my condo on Pinegrove? It's bigger and we could leave the dog in this room.

BOB:
Sergeant Rahm is going to stay with me tonight Uncle Jim. He has to stay somewhere, so I asked him to stay here.

JIM:
Oh...I see. Show tunes not fun anymore. . . .Que Sera.

BOB:
Anyway, Blackie saved my life, and I'm not going to leave him.

JIM:
So he saved you, huh?

SERGEANT:
Dogs are handy to have around, Rance. You should learn to like them. I love dogs! Four legged ones too.

JIM:
Well I'm afraid that's impossible. I don't feel comfortable in here with that dog of yours loose.

BOB:
The tea is over in the cupboard Uncle Jim. There's nothing you can do here. Sergeant Rahm will take care of me.

JIM:
Well if there's nothing I can do, I'll get some tea, and be running along. I'm sure glad you weren't hurt seriously, Bob.

F/X:
SCOOPING SOUND IN BOWL

BOB:
I'll be able to work tomorrow. Did you get enough tea?

JIM:
Yeah, this is plenty. Well if there's anything I can do, just let me know, huh.

SERGEANT:
Bob will be all right, I'm sure.

JIM:
I'll right. Goodbye

SERGEANT:
Bye.

BOB:
Sergeant, I hope you didn't mind when I told him you were going to stay here.

SERGEANT:
As a matter a fact I'll be glad to stay. You had some reason for saying that. Your face looked, well, a little frightened, I thought. What is it, Bob? What's bothering you?

BOB:
Uncle Jim didn't stay at his condo all morning.

SERGEANT:
He didn't? How do you know?

BOB:
Because I went to his condo before starting for the DIBS. I told him I planned to go early this morning so he said not to wait for him. He had some work to do. But I overslept this morning. I thought maybe he'd be ready to go with me by then, so I went to his condo. He had already left.

SERGEANT:
You sure he had gone to the mine? Maybe he was out getting wood.

BOB:
No, no I looked all over for him, and there were fresh tracks in the snow; his tracks on the way to the mine.

SERGEANT:
But why would he lie?

(Music. . .)


ANNOUNCER: Tune in soon for more of this thrilling tale of the North with Rahm of the North and his faithful Afghan Basil of Mountie Haul and Snow Removal. DIBS IS GOLD up North! Tune in again, but NOT during the Skinny and Houlie Show on Saturday at 3PM on Chicago's WVEVAM Ethnic Station AM 1450.

St. Claude - Heart Matters: Sacred and Otherwise

Today is the Feast of Claude La Colombière, S.J. (1641-1682)


Claude packed some serious heart. In his forty one years, the scholarly Frenchman took Orders with the Jesuits, earned a reputation as one of the great preachers of the Post Reformation Catholic Church, acted as confessor to both St. Margaret Mary Alacoque and the Duchess of York during the 'Papist Plot' of Titus Oakes, and was imprisoned by the Parliament which led to his early death following banishment from England.

Claude La Colombière, S.J. is remarkable because he listened. I am gabby. That gets in the way of competent hearing too often. My Old Man used to admonish, "Jesus Christ, give your ears a chance! That mouth of your's moves like a duck's ass,"

St. Claude listened. Margaret Mary Alacoque was canonized a saint of the Catholic Church in 1920. She was from a well-off French family. As a young girl, she was stricken with an illness and vowed to devote her life to Christ, as we all do when faced with calamities. Her health improved and her Mom encouraged her to 'get out in the world' and meet some boys. She did. Returning from a dance, Margaret Mary was blessed with a vision of the Sacred Heart of Christ. The heart represents so many things - the physical power plant of our lives, love and courage.

Having a vision can mean a couple of things - you are gifted with an ability to make sense of the world as it is now and project the process to make things even better, or, you are nuts.

Margaret Mary confessed to Claude and he listened. By really listening, Claude heard the beat of the Sacred Heart through the words of Margaret Mary. The Devotions to the Sacred Heart are paths to better living. Some of them are severe. Margaret Mary would awaken at the 11 P.M. and line prostrate with her face to the ground offering prayers for intercession by the Sacred Heart of Jesus until Midnight. The devotions to the Sacred Heart continued from the 17th Century and rooted here in Chicago. The French lumbermen of Lake Township -down here on the south side along Vincennes Ave. built Sacred Heart Church at 116th & Church. One of the stained glass windows placed on the south wall in 1904 holds a promise from Christ to Margaret Mary ' I Shall Make Tepid Hearts Fervent.'

That promise continues because Claude, a gifted preacher and scholar, closed his mouth, and listened. Hearing - genuine listening opens the heart.

Fed Chair Ben Bernanke and Golf Cad Tiger Woods

Taking a break from the toils at Federal Reserve, Chairman Ben Bernanke shot a game of pocket pool while Golfer Tiger Woods watched from the gallery.

Yes, Dammit, I Take Full Credit for the Recent Events in Cairo and Egypt!

Finally, after inumerable repeated calls and pleas to do so, I take full credit for the democratic out-pouring of freedom in Egypt. That's right! I did it right here from Rockwell, while Anderson Cooper was cowering in a Cairo La Quinta. Not to take away anything from the brave and freedom thirsty throngs in Tahrir Square and clear through the Delta, but I must take full credit. No sense doing this half-assed.

It was nothing really, no more than the mere suggestion to a few well placed fans of . . .With Both Hands - Go ahead Gypos! Take it to the streets - what's the worst that can happen?


Now, if this thing on the Nile goes south badly, try and pin it on me. Go ahead.

President Obama, Julian Assange, GW Bush and the dancers of the new production of that musical rendition of the Damon Runyon reworking of Shaw's Major Barbara - GAYS and Dolls with a new libretto and score by Lord Elton John and Lady Gaga have already claimed credit.

Sharia Law West of the Pecos!

Imam Roy W. Bean: Mr. Harden, it's my duty to inform you that the larceny of an equine is a capital offense punishableby death, but you can rest assured that in this court a horse thief always gets a fair trial before he's hung.


Muslim Scholars have ruled that killing 'innocent Jews and Christians' is Sharia complicit. "That's my Rulin'!"

Abu Walid Al-Maqdisi, leader of the Jama’at Al-Tawhid Wal-Jihad organization, was asked about Islam’s position on killing innocent civilians during “martyrdom operations” such as the 9/11 attacks. He replied with a fatwa stating that although Islam prohibits the killing of innocents, Jews and Christians may be attacked because they are “aggressive combatants.”

Even if some of the Jews and Christians in these countries may actually be innocent, Muslim scholars “have ruled that, in the case of a surprise attack, it is permissible to kill all of them” including innocent bystanders, he declared.

Our Celebration of Diversity is a Rainbow! Ain't it just?

Happy St. Valentine's Day - Nothing Says I Love You, Like Hearing I Am Sorry, Again!

I fought the Flu Bug this weekend and am now off the canvas. Wobbly, bruised, dizzier than a gnat in an air-shaft, but back on my pins; rather, my broad manly rump is in this seat and my stubby digits are pounding the keyboard.

Happy St. Valentine Day! Love means saying you're sorry -over and over again. In the spirit of reconciliation that signals true love, allow me to offer this revisit to the theme.

If Love means 'Never Having to Say You're Sorry,' then the Irish are screwed, blued and tattooed.

Jesus, I am Sorry about 86 times a day and before 8AM.

I have a pluperfect penchant for missteps, malfunctions, maledictions, and malpractice; but, I run empty on malice.

My misdeeds tend to be sins of omission - Omit thought, planning or the feelings of another. I am Sorry. To paraphrase Boxing Great Billy Conn upon losing to Joe Louis after dominating the Champ the whole fight only to be knocked out for not being cautious, 'What's the Point of Being Irish If You Can't Be Sorry ( Stupid)?'

Celto-centrist I am not. However, there was an interesting story about the recent findings in Dublin, Ireland. ( click my post title)

It appears that St. Valentine, who received no goods or services in exchange for the flowers, sweets and posted Love notes worldwide to morrow, was buried in Dublin ( re-interred more correctly) in the last century. This from Irish News and Events correspondent Dermot O'Gara

Was St Valentine a true blue Dub?
by Dermot O'Gara



JUST about everybody knows that St Valentine is the patron saint of lovers. You may have known that he was a priest in Rome in the third century, and if you're really on top of your game, you may even have been aware that he died in jail, but you probably didn't know that his final resting place is Dublin.


In fact the good priests of the Carmelite Order have been looking after his remains in their priory in Whitefriar St, just off Aungier St in Dublin, for over 160 years.

We have a good deal of information about St Valentine, but separating the fact from the legend is a bit like trying to separate a teenage couple at a school disco.

Fertility festival
It seems he was martyred in 269, supposedly for marrying couples against the wishes of Emperor Claudius II who felt that single men made better soldiers. Legend would have it that he died for his faith on February 14th of that year, and that this is why we celebrate him on that day. However, it's likely that the fact that we celebrate St Valentine at this time of year is more to do with the ancient Roman spring fertility festival of Lupercalia, which like many other pagan holidays was christianised when in 498 Pope Gelasius decreed that February 14th would be St Valentine's Day.

But how did a Roman Martyr, who had never even set foot in what was later to become an island of saints and scholars, end up in a Dublin church.

In the 1820' and 30's, a Carmelite priest by the name of John Spratt had earned a reputation for his work with the destitute citizens of Dublin's Liberties. A man of apparently boundless energy, Spratt started the building process of the Carmelite church in nearby Whitefriar St in 1825.

Exhumed
Ten years later, he was invited to speak at the Jesuit Church in Rome, the Gesu. The elite of Rome came to hear him, including representatives of Pope Gregory XVI. As a token of recognition of the work of Spratt, the Pope ordered the exhumation of the remains of St Valentine from St Hippolytus cemetery near Rome to be shipped to Whitefriar St Church, in Dublin.

In November 1836, the remains were received with great pomp and ceremony, but with the death of Spratt some years later, the remains ceased to be of major public interest.

Some 40 years ago however, they were restored to the public eye having gathered dust for decades in the nether regions of the priory, and are now featured in a purpose-built shrine in the church itself.

This year on February 14th, at 11am and 3.15pm, as has become customary, there will be a special celebration of St Valentine in the place where he now rests, Whitefriar St Church. Carmelite priest, Fr Tony McKenny will celebrate mass and conduct a ring blessing ceremony for engaged and married couples.


People I Love often hear I am sorry.

Chicago - The Most Catholic of Cities and Our Planned Parenthood Candidates

Here's a head-scratcher. Chicago is the most Catholic of American cities, but has absolutely no problem voting for politicians owned by Planned Parenthood. How's that?

Chicago is a City of Peasants, writes America's Montaigne, Northwestern University professor, essayist and short story writer Joseph Epstein in the most recent edition of the Weekly Standard about Rahm Emanuel.

Chicago is a city of peasants, or, more precisely, people of peasant background: Poles, Italians, Irish, Greeks, blacks. Peasants, I think it fair to say, don’t get Jews. And the Rahmbomb is an anti-Semite’s dream. He is wealthy, aggressive, he even took ballet lessons, for God’s sake; all the anti-Semitic stereotypes are in place, except for his not being highly cerebral.

I do not think that Rahm will have any trouble getting elected, but he will go a long way in encouraging more anti-Semites to Jew bait. Catholics who will beef about Rahm's ethnicity already vote for professed Catholics who bow and vow fealty to Planned Parenthood - the same mind-set that made lamp-shades of Jews from 1933-1945 and parse solidarity with Hamas today. Machs nicht.

Mr. Epstein is dead on point and his demographic should also include Mexicans, but his grouping had more to do with historical political clout, I believe. With the exception of blacks and Greeks, we are Catholic peasants -rooted in the soil and the Faith of our Fathers. Chicago is a most Catholic City -demographically 30% of the population of Illinois is Roman Catholic and Cook County is ground zero for Catholics.

Chicago Catholics tend to be Roman Catholic Democrats - a breed that has made peace with Planned Parenthood, God Help Us.

Planned Parenthood is a eugenics PAC that has succeeded in making Americans numb to the Cosmtic Holocaust. Unborn children have been accepted to be no more than 'tissue' and the murder of those children is 'choice.'

I have never been a Pro Life guy, but I have always been very anti-abortion. In 1984, a week after my daughter Nora was born, I got into a debate with a Pro Life activist at Bishop McNamara High School in Kankakee. He was invited to speak, not to a a religion class, but whole school at an assembly. The person who invited this wildly strident gent ( he is a real John Brown kind of guy) wanted to promote her book, that was written by students in her class. It was great marketing idea, but lousy educational professionalism. I said so, many times; but, the talk was set. The talk was wildly inappropriate and offensive. I said so in the assembly. The guy took wild offense with me - perhaps he was right -for questioning not his motives but his methods. I thought that was the end of things.

My wife and I received death threats and phone calls for months. Me and my big mouth.

It died down by February and I still had a job teaching English. The book writer left at the end of the year and made a ton of money - her students got not dime one. That was my experience with Pro Life.

I hate abortion.

Several years later, my heroic wife Mary fired her female obstetrician who suggested that she abort our son, because she was certain he would be born either with Downs Syndrome or spina bifida. Mary cut this elegant and trendy broad to ribbons -verbally, of course - and sent her packing. "So the Hell What? This is my Child, you bitch!" That is the clean version.

Abortion has become the cosmetic make-over for inconvenience and Americans have no patience for inconvenience. We of peasant stock understand and celebrate the inconvenience of children -healthy, sick, nice, mean, handsome and homely, they are all beautiful!

That said, I detest Planned Parenthood. They are a political PAC. One third of its funding was made available by politicians like Sen. Dick Durbin through federal funding and, more shame on me, channeled and directed here in Illinois by Gov. Pat Quinn, for whom I supported, worked and voted.

Both politicians are Irish Catholic Democrats who accept Planned Parenthood's blood money. Polish Catholic Congressman Dan Lipinski refuses it - God Bless Him!

Now, every Democratic candidate for mayor is supported by Planned Parenthood -Chico, Braun, DeValle, Emanuel, Walls. Chico was born Catholic, but I believe he converted to Judaism - making only DeValle the Catholic in the crowd. Miguel De Valle is the IVI-IPO Progressive Blue Chip Candidate and therefore Planned Parenthood approved.

Given the recent light shed on the horrors that are Planned Parenthood ( New York, Philly Kermit Gosnell's Slaughter of living babies and videos), is it not time for Catholic Chicago to ask some questions of the next mayor - whoever that may be?





Planned Parenthood takes in One Third of its funding to kill children from Federal Tax Dollars. Politicians need money to get and stay elected - I get it.'

I get this too - from to today's Gospel.

Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God,
or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King.
And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black.
Let what you say be simply `Yes' or `No'; anything more than this comes from evil.

Democratic politicians will hear the same Gospel and nod with conviction and think it has nothing to do with 'choice,' or their 'personal opposition to abortion' - much in the same way that I'll agree to somehow justify my vote for them - God help us.

It is long past time for Catholics, Jews, Protestants, and secular humanists to give Planned Parenthood the long goodbye.

Confession App - Our Digital Dystopia Goes Nuttier

Last night, my lady love and I enjoyed a few hours of quiet, polite, lively and, for me anyway, enchanting communication using words and body language across the table from one another in Bacchanalia Italian Restaurant* in the Heart of Italy neighborhood. This restaurant is a charming time machine that transports diners to a much better time of human interaction and dignity ( BTW -the tucker and the mutuels are outstanding).

Over a brimming platter of antipasti, Chicken Vesuvio for the Elegant Lady and Porterhouse Vesuvio for this trencherman swain, and ala 'Ferme Auberge' salad -after the main course, we spoke to one another. We talked about the work week, Egypt, Wu and Al Swearingen on Deadwood, the incivility of our electronic world - texting teens and adults, robot customer service, endless cellphone usage. Cable television and the internet have buried the morning newspaper readings that once brought fathers and sons together in the race for the box-scores and mothers reading the funnies to toddlers; yet, we lament the breakdown of the American Family.

Early this morning, I was treated to a wonderful article- yes, via the internet - by Philadelphia journalist Christine Flowers on one of the goofiest additions to our Electronic Communications Crap-pile - The Confession APP. Christine Flowers offers a human and delightful introduction to a child's First Confession and the Sacrament of Penance - click my post title for that serene passage.

Here is the caveat against our growing Techno-Dystopia:

. . .I was so deeply offended to hear that someone had created a "Confession" app for the iPad. Patrick Leinen created Confession: A Roman Catholic App to, as he put it, "invite Catholics to engage in their faith through digital technology."

And my response is: Are you kidding me?

Generations of Catholic kids were forced to go to catechism and CCD classes to grasp the solemnity of the sacraments and appreciate their role in our lives.

Sure, a lot of those mini-Catholics have since left the church because it became too onerous for them to practice their faith with honor and respect, but there are enough of us left who think that reducing the relationship between a penitent and his confessor to a button on some handheld gadget is ridiculous, wrong and a slap in the face. (I wonder what would happen if someone came up with a bar mitzvah app, by which you could do interactive Torah readings and register for presents at the exact same time.)

Or maybe we could be treated to Mecca.com, which, with a click of a button, you could convert to Islam (it would of course have to have separate Sunni and Shia versions of the program since you don't want to have to then click on HolyWar.com).

Not pretty when someone starts playing around with your faith, is it?

Fortunately, the Vatican has come out forcefully against this travesty. As a spokesman in Rome noted, "It is essential to understand that the rites of penance require a personal dialogue between penitents and their confessor. . . It cannot be replaced by a computer application."

Of course it can't. I mean, just imagine if your computer malfunctioned and you downloaded the wrong penance? Eight hundred thousand Our Fathers would be cruel and unusual.

Christine M. Flowers is a lawyer. E-mail

cflowers1961@yahoo.com. She blogs at philly.com/philly/blogs/flowersshow.

Lucifer's Laugh Bag!

I can not imagine how, in the name of Sts. Cyril and Methodius,it would be possible to Confess to an I-Pad the fact that my mere presence, let alone utterance of a syllable, often has an emetic effect on people I love due to my follies and inclinations.

Only the direct communication with one of Christ's ordained priests can I manage to articulate the thoughts, words and deeds that offended others and Christ.

Oh, Yeah! I simply download the APP -You can get the application here: https://market.android.com/details?id=appinventor.ai_jamorrow.PenanceProject

"OMG I am Heartily sorry . . ." - I detest all my sins & etc.



Hickey's Sin Menu:

Sexual Thoughts = 24 X 365@ 1 per nano second?

Lies = Has anyone seen my Honorary Degrees from Yale, Harvard and Bob's Theological Seminary; I returned your call of 2/11/2011 @ 9:45AM; Let me be perfectly honest . . . & etc.

Anger: See Sexual Thoughts and multiply by a factor of 5

Pride: I have Irish Alzeimer's

Envy: Well my eyes still work!

Sloth: We get graded on Neatness?

Gluttony: Porterhouse Vesuvio!

Let's put away the toys and devices and get back to human contact . . .just a minute . . .let me get this call.














*Bacchanalia Italian Restaurant
2413 South Oakley Avenue
Chicago, IL 60608
(773) 254-6555

Rahmses Uno- Pharaoh Dealer of Old Chicago!

Now that Hose Knee has taken it on the Arthur Duffy - exite stage left -from his toils in the shadow of the pyramids; let's imagine a film ( yeah, I know, Movie) about the advent of Emanuel -not found in the reeds - but in New Trier - who danced his way into the power and the glory that is Chicago. Imagine all of the genius and money available to preserve that thought in an epic film to rival Avatar and The Hangover. Well, imagine no more Lucille!

I spoke with Chicago Independent film-maker Fay Accompli who is doing a bio-pic/documentary on the all but media-assured election of Rahm Emanuel. Fay Accompli has scads, literally scads, of money.

Fitting this coupling of real Chicago pipe is earnest and Progressive Cecil B. Demille-in-Drag, Fay Accompli's treatment will be wrapped in old timey splendor and CinemaScope and Technicolor with a cast of millions and funded by a grant from the Pritzker Foundation, Arianna Huffington Industries and the Chubb Group. Chicago icon Sugar Rautbord, author of the best smelling novel The Fifth Floor which she is promoting everywhere, is on the project.

Ms. Fay Accompli gushed, " The Chicago Tribune says it all, 'No other candidate combines Emanuel's candor about the threats facing Chicago with the will to take necessary steps -- some of them unpopular -- to tame those threats,' and no one threatens threats like a Pharaoh. Look at Mubarak! Rahm will threaten threats with threatening threats. I see Rahm as Pharaoh - like Yul Brynner. I wish I get him to do the picture, but I'll use Jeremy Piven. He's so Chicago. or John What's is Name? The one whose sister does the phone ads , you know." I do not.
Ms. Accompli fleshed out a scene that I will offer to you, Dear Reader

The scene is Pharaoh's palace on the 5th Floor surrounded by eunuchs from the Chicago Media and horny dowagers who all look like Sugar Rautbord

Rahmses I -
Jeremy Piven, or that John What's His Name as Rahm Emanuel

Ald. Ed Burke -
erst-while Moses the Law Giver played by Richard Deacom

Monied Dowager Sugar Rautbord -
played by none other than author, socialite, wit, shrinking violet Sugar.

Media Eunuch Bruce Dold - Bruce Dold will be played by Chi-panda whose bamboo stuffings are only match by the papier mache substance of Chicago Tribune's Editorial Board.

Rahmses Deuce -
played by scenery chewing Rep. Mike Quigley - short of nothing, but all of that virtue stuff.

Here with just two weeks before the polls close like a maiden's knees at the approach of a bounder, Fay Accompli's Ramses I - the screenplay.

Rahmses I - The Commandments: And You Thought Ten Was a Lot!

Scene: Fifth Floor of City Hall

Rahmses[to Sugar Rautbord] You will be my wife. You will come to me whenever I call you, and I will enjoy that very much. Whether you enjoy it or not is entirely your own affair... But I think you will.

[To Bruce Dold] You will be mine, like my dog, or my horse, or my falcon, except that I shall love you more - and trust you less.

[banishing Ed Burke to the desert] Here is your king's scepter, and here is your kingdom, with the scorpion, the cobra, and the lizard for subjects. Free them if you will. Leave the Hebrews to me.

[ to Mike Quigley] My son, I shall build your tomb upon their crushed bodies.
[to Ed Burke again]Come to me no more, Ed Burke, for the day you see my face again you will surely die! So let it be written, so let it be done...authenticate here, here and here - Move! For @#$%^'s sake! Get it #$%^ing Notarized and #$%^&ing take it to Dave Orr!

The score by Riccardo Muti and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra - if he's up to it.
My Preview Review: It'll be the Cat's Nuts!

Nun gives papers to DePaul - More Air than the Blue Demons Shoot

Death-Row Demon Nun, Sister Susan Sean Sarandon-Penn tosses her papers to the winless Blue Demons. When DePaul stopped being Catholic, the late Ray Meyer pulled his intercessions - it seems.

" . . .Demons’ losing streak in Big East play to 23 regular-season games." By Toni Ginnetti Staff Reporter/tginnetti@suntimes.com Feb 9, 2011 05:09AM



Enjoy the read Blue Demons.

Actor Michael Moriarty on Literature, Existentialism and The Fragile Minds of American Youth

The mind of a young person is God's marvel. The more the young mind encounters the more it absorbs; however, what that supple organ makes use of what it takes in can be dangerous. Parents, priests and pedagogues are best agents to direct the and chennel the course of experiences and epiphanies taken in by young people. There are very bad ideas - drinking mercury, diving off of a water tower, or basing one's actions upon seductive principles founded on misery.

The Danish theologian Søren Kierkegaard built a theology on dread as the basis for making decisions. Abraham agonizing over his pact to sacrifice Issac as the blood bond of God's covenant was the spark of existentialism - a negative philosophy that morphed Kierkegaard's sermons into a Romantic precis of Satan's wildly idiotic battle with God. Knowing full well God's omnipotence, Old Scratch never-the-less gave it the old Ivy League try - again, and again. Byron's Childe Harold in Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, lines 1031-1102 whines:

I have not loved the World, nor the World me;
I have not flattered its rank breath, nor bowed
To its idolatries a patient knee,
Nor coined my cheek to smiles,-nor cried aloud
In worship of an echo; in the crowd
They could not deem me one of such-I stood
Among them, but not of them- in a shroud
Of thoughts which were not their thoughts, and still could,
Had I not filed my mind, which thus itself subdued.

What teenage girl girl could not go weak in the knees ( Vampire, Matrix-caparisoned dark eyed, pale and pasty dreamy non Jock) over the sentiments of this brooding youth? J,D. Salinger's Holden Caufield - the quintessential American Teenage Male - narrates his negative world view and spits ironic scorn at the phonies of the ordered world. Young minds are attracted to the dark - death - dread and the Gothic.

The greatest generation and their Korean and Vietnam heirs had their bellies full of death and dread and created a lifestyle and standard of living that was the antithesis - a life affirming ethic and commitment to service - for their children. The American brooding generations had the luxury to hurl defiance at order and life itself with parsing nods to dim authorities found in books and spouting semiotic nonsense from the plush podiums of the Academy - whatever the hell that is.

Chicago-rooted actor, composer,essayist and anti-abortion activist Michael Moriarty wrote a sound study of the dangers of toxic doctrines ingested by young minds without the rigorous oversight of parents, priests and capable pedagogues - that's teachers. Mass murderer Jared Lochner seems to be a case study of toxic thought unchecked . . .and most likely unsupervised.

American Existentialism: Jared Loughner

By Michael Moriarty
web posted February 7, 2011

While Jared Loughner's list of favorite writings run from Hitler's Mein Kampf and Marx's Communist Manifesto to George Orwell, Hermann Hesse and Ernest Hemingway, a mysteriously missing set of fashionably well-respected names are the French Existentialists, such as Abert Camus and Jean Paul Sartre.

By the time I had finished that relentlessly compelling tale of gratuitous murder and vague redemption (Albert Camus' The Stranger which ends with the words, "all that remained to hope was that on the day of my execution there should be a huge crowd of spectators and that they should greet me with howls of execration,") my sense of the world had been shattered into a thousand pieces.

The essentials of this quote are from Stranger In A Strange Land – The Enduring American Appeal Of Existentialism, Nick Gillespie's still startling review of George Cotkin's Existential America.

With the endearing confession I can share with Mr. Gillespie about existentialism – "I still never quite understood it" – I suddenly began to comprehend a few things I had not even dreamt of during Freshman year at Dartmouth and the existential labyrinths of Philosophy 101. The course was taught devoid of the endless examples of senseless murder available even then. Somehow the anti-hero of Albert Camus' The Stranger was held to be examined in an a-historical vacuum. The ghosts of Jack The Ripper and Lizzie Borden were just begging to attend class; but the Professor would not even utter their names.

After this past week, however, and the nightmares rolling out of Tucson, Arizona, with the massacre there, the insane slaughter handed out to all of America by one Jared Loughner?

Cotkin's most original insight is something that escaped Camus and the others: "Existentialism, American style ... jibes well with American antinomianism, that willingness of the lonely individual to rebel against entrenched authority in the name of his or her most intense beliefs. Antinomianism, like existentialism, challenges easy certitude, entrenched religion, and moribund political assumptions."

Scary?

Quite possibly.

This is Jared Loughner, as attorney pro-se, defending himself in court.

The crime in Albert Camus' The Stranger is merely a small example of the massacre in Tucson which America may never recover from. Yet the obscenely joyous anticipation within the murderer that "a huge crowd of spectators … should greet me with howls of execration"?

This, for an existentialist apparently, is not insanity.

This is classic anti-heroism.

"L'enfer est les autres!"

"Hell is other people", as a profoundly existential character proclaims in Jean Paul Sartre's No Exit. The brilliant critic, Walter Kaufmann, encapsulated existentialism as defined by the 4 D's: "death, despair, dread and dauntlessness". According to the likes of Jean Paul Sartre, Jared Loughner is the quintessentially existential anti-hero.

To a French existentialist, Jared Loughner is not insane.

He is "dauntlessly" addressing "death, despair and dread" with a defining existential act, multiple versions of that apparently liberating but cold-blooded killing in Albert Camus' The Stranger.

Is existentialism a true philosophy?

Or is it merely a rationalization for the "enlightened despots" of France, from 18th century Robespierre to the 20th century's Jean Paul Sartre, to either commit mass murder or openly relish the shameless homicides of Jared Loughner, Josef Stalin, Mao Zedong, et al?

I believe Existentialism is the 20th century effort of French intellectuals to rationalize their horridly bloody, 18th century revolution. Existentialism was, and still is for many Frenchmen and women, the effort of intellectual supremacistsin Paristo defend what is the heart of the French Revolution and the rationale for the French Guillotine: it was the Existentially justifiable thing to do at the time.

Death, despair, dread and dauntlessness!

This is the moment in which I must remind my readers of the true enemy of the French Revolution. The ultimate and permanent enemy of the French Revolution was not the aristocracy nor even the bourgeoisie.

It was and still is the Catholic Church.

In addition and more to the point of this article, the number one enemy of the Progressive Revolution or the Obama Nation's "Fundamental transformation of the United States" is not the Tea Party but the Catholic Church. Rome's unflinching and unwavering condemnation of abortion strikes at the very cornerstone of Progressive philosophy, strategy and visions of the future. While the very black attire of Catholic priests similarly signify the very existential themes of dread, death and despair, the antidote, however, is not a mindless or homicidal dauntlessness.

It is Life!

Life, life and more life!

Life that is even more dauntless, forceful and abandoned than the mad eyes of Jared Loughner.

Michael Moriarty is a Golden Globe and Emmy Award-winning actor who starred in the landmark television series Law and Order from 1990 to 1994. His recent film and TV credits include The Yellow Wallpaper, 12 Hours to Live, Santa Baby and Deadly Skies. Contact Michael at rainbowfamily2008@yahoo.com.

The American classroom could use Michael Moriarty.

Why You Will Not See Me On Craigslist -A Cautionary Tale

To: [redacted]@yahoo.com
From: Pat Hickey
Date: Friday, January 14, 2007, 2:41 PM
Subject: Will Someone Prove To Me Not All CL Men Look Like Toads - 34 (DMV)

Hi,

Hope I'm not a toad. :) i'm a very fat fun classy guy. Live in Morgan Park area. 5ft 190lbs Yellow/brown. 55. .. Hobbyist. I promise not to disappoint.

A Republican Congressman is in the Jack Pot, over a photo and what appears to be a shameless plagiarism of an ad that family and friends discouraged me from sending into Craigslist some years ago - I was lonely.

To: [redacted]@yahoo.com
From: Christopher Lee
Date: Friday, January 14, 2011, 2:41 PM
Subject: Will Someone Prove To Me Not All CL Men Look Like Toads - 34 (DMV)

Hi,

Hope I'm not a toad. :) i'm a very fit fun classy guy. Live in Cap Hill area. 6ft 190lbs blond/blue. 39.. Lobbyist. I promise not to disappoint.

Meet women at wholesome church sponsored events, the Museum of Oriental Art, or at showings of Post-Impressionists artists at the Chicago Art Institute. The librarian at your neighborhood branch, just might check out more than your request for Das Buch vom mönchischen Leben , Rainer Maria Rilke - Cologne edition of 1899 -natürlich. Nothing sexier than a willowy blond in a tight skirt sporting a black turtle neck sweater with an elegant single pearl necklace - lavendar eyes behind horn-rimmed glasses. Gotta go!

Good Night Sweet Prince - Charles, Philip, Arthur, George

“Mummy was ever so kind – where was I . . .Balderdash – I’m as pissed as a fart, yet my command of the Queen’s grows exponentially. That notwithstanding, however, Biffois almost certainly no liar – I merely had proper use of the language bludgeoned into me from a very, very young age.

On that note, to bed. Said hard graft requires a man at the helm bright and early in the morrow!”

Boys, the Prince! Prince, the Boys!



Charles Philip Arthur George, KG KT GCB OM AK QSO CD SOM GCL PC AdC(P) FRS by Grace of God Prince of Wales once and future King of the United Kingdom He'll be here all week, Folks! If you do not get BBC on Cable, wait for it!

Click my post title for more chilling insights ( Global Warming no less - I wonder who told him?) from the Prince of Wales. Testors, or was he left in the marinade far too long?

H/t Weazel Zippers.com

The Genius Ben Stein Rolls The Fatuous Mayor Bloomberg's Salt-Free Abortions

Ben Stein is a gentleman to the backbone. Mayor Bloomberg is a parsing dweeb with billions of dollars. One is a mensch and a half and the mayor a nebish squared. . . or as Skinny Sheahan might say, "Ben's a Pair and Mike's Lacking Both."

I read this brilliant piece by Ben Stein in the The American Standard - published and edited by Fenwick Friar Bob Tyrrell.

I am endlessly amazed at how backwards we humans get things in our lives. Just let me give you two very basic examples, one of which is a crime against humanity.

I keep reading in the New York Times that Mayor Bloomberg, a billionaire health nut, is on a campaign against having too much salt in foods in New York City restaurants. His belief is that New Yorkers and visitors shorten their life spans by eating too much salt and therefore raising their blood pressure in a dangerous way. If he took control over the salt content in New York restaurants, he could save a few dozen lives per year, he believes.

But, wait a moment. I also read in the New York Times that New York City is one of the abortion capitals of the nation, with a much higher rate of abortion than most other parts of the nation. And Mayor Bloomberg is a great fan of "…a woman's right to choose…" to abort her baby.

As I calculate it in a rough way, New York City has about 8 million persons living there, or about (very roughly) 3 per cent of the nation's population. And New York has a much higher abortion rate than the rest of the nation. So it is possible that New Yorkers have about 50,000 abortions per year, or maybe a lot more.

That is 50,000 killings of totally innocent children every year. Does Mayor Bloomberg think that his anti-salt campaign means much compared with that number? If he wants to save lives, why doesn't he throw his tiny weight and his huge purse behind right to life? That's a truly life-saving act.

This whole subject endlessly fascinates and horrifies me. We campaign against obesity -- and we should -- because it shortens life. But nothing else makes life as short as abortion. We campaign for more exercise -- and I heartily agree -- because it lengthens life. But, again, no amount of exercise would offset the over 1,000,000 excess American deaths each year caused by abortion of the totally innocent. We want safer cars. We want cleaner air. We want cleaner water. All to save life. But there is nothing we could do that would save more lives than to truly stop abortion in all but the most extreme cases of need.

Why? Why are we so blind to the mass murder of the innocent?

It do give one pause, Ben.

Rahm is Mayor Daley's Guy? Well, Hush My Beak!

After a sobering weekend of Chico endorsements by real labor and a daffy TV ad, it appears that Rahm's Campaign of a Full Press Court nodded news-sleuth in the direction of the place where everyone else in Chicago arrived months ago.

"I have the advantage of knowing your habits, my dear Watson," said he. "When your round is a short one you walk, and when it is a long one you use a hansom. As I perceive that your boots, although used, are by no means dirty, I cannot doubt that you are at present busy enough to justify the hansom."
"Excellent!" I cried.
"Elementary," said he. "It is one of those instances where the reasoner can produce an effect which seems remarkable to his neighbour, because the latter has missed the one little point which is the basis of the deduction. The same may be said, my dear fellow, for the effect of some of these little sketches of yours, which is entirely meretricious, depending as it does upon your retaining in your own hands some factors in the problem which are never imparted to the reader.
The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes (1893)

This morning I was treated to a singular news flash from Mark Brown, the guy who gave Scott Lee Cohen ( The Pawn Star Guv Guy) a long pass. This morning Mark Brown wrote that Rahm Emanuel is Mayor Daley's 'guy.' for mayor of Chicago.

While Daley has indeed publicly refrained from making an endorsement, it has been universally recognized in political circles that the mayor would prefer Rahm Emanuel to be the next mayor of Chicago. In the almost magical way these matters are communicated, Daley’s people got the message early and lined up accordingly, not to suggest they necessarily needed coaxing.

Astounding! How ever did he arrive at this conclusion? Why he asked someone with the full operation of his cranial think box - Gery Chico told him. Be astounded, dear reader!

Chico first acknowledged Daley’s support for Emanuel — albeit obliquely — over the weekend at a candidates forum sponsored by the 49th Ward political organization of Ald. Joe Moore. No reporters were there, but word got around.

“Gery said: You can’t change the status quo if you’re the guy who the status quo is lined up behind,” confirmed his press secretary, Brooke Anderson. “He said the status quo isn’t working, that he’s running for mayor to take Chicago in a new direction and that he has a record of challenging the status quo to get big results.”

Chico was asked about this Tuesday, leading to his further remarks about Daley backing Emanuel. I said that’s what’s been told to me to be the case. If it’s not, then the mayor can say it’s not,” Chico said.

“

Now, Mark Brown is even with the most notorious retired glue-sniffers and bust-outs in every Ward of Chicago - they picked up on the trail of the Napoleon of Chicago and his machinations as early as September, 2010 - and many long before. I was moved to write this sober assessment on September 25, 2010. for you here - on the hoary pages of With Both Hands, dear reader. Thus!

Michael Sneed got a scoop of WHUP Ass for her Friday Column - the word that Terry Peterson will be Rahm Emanuel's Campaign Manager. Terry Petersen ran Mayor Daley's recent wildly successful stomping of candidates. I imagine that it knocked Tom Dart back on his pins a bit, but Dart is a smart tough guy, from tough stock and training.

Tom Dart worked under the only person that I can think of who did not make any money in public service - former Cook County Sheriff Michael Sheahan. Michael Sheahan was one of the very first recipients of the Axelrod/Emanuel school of Policy assault. They barely ruffled his whiskers, but since Sheahan retired they have honed their craft on Republicans, recalcitrant Blue Dog Democrats, House Speaker Mike Madigan and Ohio Plumbers.

The signing of Terry Peterson is a coup. Mayor Daley is sitting this one out? I think not.

Tom Dart had a great mentor in Mike Sheahan. He'll stand the blows, but they will shower down like rains of this past summer. Michael Sheahan stuck his neck out and helped Mayor Daley get elected as Cook County States Attorney and as Mayor.

Mayor Daley has hosted the National Democratic Convention, made Chicago look like Paris and act like Somalia, placed his close aides in positions of national power ( David Wilhelm, Bill Daley, David Pouffe, Rahm Emanuel, Valerie Jarret, Desiree Rogers, Arne Duncan and most importantly David Axelrod), brokered the ascent of President Barack Obama, and has retired.

Retired but obviously not out of game. Mayor Daley represents the triumph of Policy over Politics. I believe that Richard M. Daley eschewed Ward level politics for Policy in order to distance himself and his works from the people of Chicago.

I can not remember the last time Mayor Richard M. Daley set foot in the 19th Ward - one of the last powerful Wards along with the 47th, 11th, 13th, and the decimated 10th. These were the Politics Wards that gave Richard M. Daley the 5th floor.

All other Wards are mere geographic delineations of racial and ethnic boundaries, or centers of tourism. They are Policy Wards.

Policy Wards require State and Federal tax-dollars. They operate by dint of media propaganda and rallies of angry folks. Policy uses anger. Politics uses obligation.

Obligation is much more difficult, rather inconvenient.

For all of the mythology about the power of these Politics Wards ( 11th, 19th, 13th, 47th and the decimated 10th), they are little more than minor baronies of public service, until an election requires foot soldiers.

These Wards made Rahm Emanuel a United States Congressman, Mike Quigley a Commissioner and managed to keep County Government moving despite the daffy meanderings of Todd Stroger.

Like Mayor Daley, Rahm Emanuel does not to set foot in a Ward. He will operate out of treasury and via NPR, WTTW,Columnists, Chicago Magazine, Oprah, the BGA already stocked with Andy Shaw,SEIU National and Illinois, UNITE, home and away and our transient Agenda voters.

Unlike Mayor Daley, Rahm Emanuel will need Post-Shakman door bell ringers, shoulder punchers and back slappers, palm card hustlers and therefore is no doubt worming into the ears of Committeemen and disaffected, frightened non-Shakman City Workers. Mayor Daley retained Politics and political operatives for elections.
Terry Petersen is the key and, to my way of thinking, Daley's endorsement of Rahm Emanuel for a continuation of Government via Policy. CAPS trumps Cops, Wrought Iron and planters over snowplows and garbage trucks, Pritzker Pavillions over safe streets.Tourists love the look of Chicago, until they leave a Bucktown bar at 2 A.M. and then it is the cops fault.

Mayor Daley's guy is Rahm. Circles are 360 Degrees. Ice is cold. Western Avenue runs North and South. Tapioca also means broke.

Elementary . . .school kids knew this, Sherlock Brown.

Chicago Code Reviewed

I caught the Chicago Code on Fox last night. I was not adequately dressed and caught a huge dose of the Chicago Code and took 12 ounces of Nighttime Nyquil- I passed out, but did not have night terrors. Tender Mercies!

I went out to the garage this morning and fired up my fliver - Man it was Chicago Code. 15 Degrees and dropped to 8 by the time I reached Dunkin Donuts and waited in line behind real Chicago Cops heading to Englewood, Gresham and Area 2. I remembered The Chicago Code and dressed accordingly.

Here is my review of Chicago Code from the eight to twelve minutes that I caught of the Chicago Code, before I poured the NyQuil into my 12 ounce Leo Mug and cannonballed the contents.

The Chicago Code -Mondays on Fox 32 at 8 P.M.

Cast: Jason Clarke as Jarek Wysocki
Devin Kelley as Vonda Wysocki
Jennifer Beals as Teresa Colvin
Matt Lauria as Caleb Evers
Todd Williams as Isaac Joiner
Billy Lush as Liam Hennessey
Delroy Lindo as Alderman Ronin Gibbons

Let's see - a super High Speed chase going the wrong way under the L Tracks on Lake Street and ending at a flower shop on the multi-cultural West Side so that the guy waving the 'Nine' at the cop so that he can ask for the hand in marraige of the woman he loves before he goes to the iron hotel . . .(click)

Review - The Chicago Code
. . . what does the wind do?
. . . what's the sound a drain makes when you pull the plug?

Chicago Code smites the scary bandana. This is a sure fire hit! Polish up the Emmys!

De Gustibus Non Est Disputandum!