Friday, March 15, 2013

CTA Commissar Claypool Warns Pope Francis " You Come to My Town; You Better Have That Ventra!"

In this 2008 photo, Argentina's Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio, second from left, travels on the subway in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Bergoglio, named pope on Wednesday, March 13, 2013, was known for taking the subway and mingling with the poor of Buenos Aires while archbishop. Bergoglio chose the name Pope Francis and is the first pope ever from the Americas. (AP Photo/Pablo Leguizamon)

In this 2008 photo Presidential Guru David Axelrod, sporting a swell piece from Hair Club for Men, rode the Buenas Aires Subway on an Obama Green Energy study.   The Progressive Argentine government offered its passengers the opportunity to 'share the wealth' with its Ventra Cards. On this particular fact-finding junket, Chicago's-own Comb Over Dave asked the Stiff Collar in seat next to him -"What's in Your Wallet?"

That became the mantra of the Obama White House 2008-Present.

The Kirchner Government won the hearts and minds of the Obama Campaign with its no-nonsense approach to eliminating the middle class. Mr. & Mrs. Kirchner were pals of Bill Ayers' pal Hugo Chavez and immediately made was on Argentine farmers - it's a Progressive thing.



Things were not as snuggly between the then Archbishop of Buenas Aiires and Mr. & Mrs. Kirchner, because the Catholic priest was so unevolved and always on the wrong side history. In 2010, after her visit to Red China Mrs. Kirchner made Same Sex Marriage the Rage in Buenas Aires and abortion as easy to get as Gaucho britches. Likewise, Peoples Transportation is what it is!

Here in Chicago, the appointed CTA Boss Forrest Claypool stuffed the CTA Board with Progressive ninnies like Jon Bouman *and Party hacks like Jackie Grimshaw; therefore the CTA operates like a Moscow street-car. Hey, it works in Caracas!!!!

 Forrest Claypool is the bright boy who finagled the Bombardier -Canuck/Red China Trains that Don't Fit The Tracks Boondoggle! He is the Commissar who fought pee breaks for CTA workers!  Forrest Claypool is a job-hopping lightweight with a Kevlar Resume.

Now, Claypool, like President Obama and the South American Dictator Community Activists is help the struggling middle class and the poor by divesting them of money that they will only spend on themselves and their children anyway.

 Ventra has come under criticism for the embedded fees in the program for CTA riders who purchase single-ride “L” fares. Riders who purchase disposable single-ride tickets will be charged the standard $2.25 rail fare, a 25-cent transfer fee (regardless of whether or not the rider uses the transfer) and a 50-cent “limited use media fee.” Critics of the program accuse CTA of penalizing the poor with these fees, to which CTA President Forrest Claypool took umbrage. Claypool and supporters of Ventra insist the embedded fees are targeted for tourists and riders who don’t rely on CTA as their primary means of transportation.Claypool did his best to parse the fare increase after the meeting and insisted the Ventra system wouldn’t cost riders any extra, if they only bothered to use it.
“There is no $3 cash fare,’’ he said. “The $3 is if a person chooses a disposable, one-ride ticket. It has nothing to do with cash.’’
You get that?  There is no $3 cash fare! There's no $3 cash fare!  There's no Crying in baseball! It has nothing to do with cash, Stupid!  $3!  You put $3 in the single ticket for the $ 2.25 rail fare!

“There is no $3 cash fare,’’ he said. “The $3 is if a person chooses a disposable, one-ride ticket. It has nothing to do with cash.’’

So, anyway!  The Pope rides public transportation and I dare say he has wiped more puke, pee, peanuts and papers off the plastic seats of a train or a bus than Forrest Claypool, Jackie Grimshaw, or Jon Bouman.  Book that, G!

If Pope Francis I, who fell afoul of Friends of Obama in the Western Land Down Under ever visits Chicago to hang out with the working stiffs, the dying and those awful homeless people, His Holiness had better pack a Progressive Ventra Card!


*"John Bouman expressed reservations over the system because of the appearance social service agencies that buy single-ride passes from the agency would pay more on paper for the new Ventra passes." . . .can't have APPEARANCES!  That is what Fatima is for! Progressive believe in science, reason and the appearance of honesty, boy howdy!

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Meet the New Vicar of Christ



This guy is alright.

From Liz Hurtado on Facebook -



Follow · 18 hours ago 

"We got what the Church needed: the heart of a Franciscan with the mind of a Jesuit. Bravo Holy Spirit!!!" In 2006, Cardinal Bergoglio chose a children's hospital in Palermo (Buenos Aires) to celebrate The Holy Thursday Mass of the Lord's Supper. There, he washed the feet of 12 sick children. You can see that in the picture. God bless Pope Francis I.
 — with Paco GranadosDavid WatersPablo Dominguez La UltimaCima and 13 others.
Like · Share

Oh, Bitter Dicta! Sun Times Editorial Board Re-Writes St. Francis to Welcome Pope Francis

 Listen to her!  About what*, I have absolutely no clue.

St. Francis, though born to wealth and position, cared nothing for material things and even less for hierarchy or rules. Sun Times Editorial 3/14/13

Pope Francis no sooner appeared through the curtains of the Papal window above St. Peter's Square than the 40 Watt powered intellects of the Sun Times Editorial Team ( read Carol Marin) decided to do a solid for abortion - gay marriage happy and sacerdotal ordination sappy nuns.  Now, though Ms. Marin is not, per se, a member of this august opinion panel, the tracks of her tears for the protesting nuns flood this tabloid. Hence, today's Papal Marin-ade!
Too often in recent decades, the Catholic Church has been defined — and defined itself — by what it opposes in modern life. It has stood mightily against abortion. It has opposed premarital sex and all forms of contraception. It has opposed same-sex marriage.
It has opposed the ordination of women as priests. It has called on the carpet American nuns whose only offense was to look and sound a little too liberal, focusing on issues of poverty and health care rather than on abortion.
While Chicago Catholics obviously are not of one mind on such public policy issues, we suspect they share our concern that the Church should be less a “party of no” and more a force for enlightened good. (emphases my own)

Egads, Citizens!  Pope City is GOP Headquarters!

Placing the Church universal in the Carol Marinade might boost interest among Ms. Marin's legion of fan in taking a gander, in deference to the geese, at her Sun Times Video All About Carol World print and electronic app, but  it is spoiled sauce.

First of all this editorial balloon juice holds that the 13th Century mystic monk  "cared nothing for material things and even less for hierarchy or rules."

Francis of Assisi was not named Francis by Mom and Pop.   He was baptized Giovanni son of Pietro and his bride Pica:  Pete and Pica's boy Jack..  Old Pete did pretty well as a merchant.  This was the time of the Crusades, which did more for building the middle class of Europe than it did freeing Jerusalem from the Turks and like any doting Dad, Old Pete decked the kid out in some snappy duds and tossed him the keys to the charabanc, or a stallion.

So taken was opulent young Jack with the latest fashions from . . .France! . . .that Old Pete started calling the boy Frenchy, or Franchesco - "No one loved pleasure more than Francis; he had a ready wit, sang merrily, delighted in fine clothes and showy display. Handsome, gay, gallant, and courteous, he soon became the prime favourite among the young nobles of Assisi, the foremost in every feat of arms, the leader of the civil revels, the very king of frolic." Thomas of Celano

Giovanni is no different from all  regular guys universal and historical .  One of the rites of passage is having other people define you in recognition of physical traits, quirks of character, or unresolved issues in manly development - to some tepidly blooded individual that is called bullying.  A guy with a head the size of a boulder in a Gene Autry movie might be called Headsy; one with auditory appendages that give him the appearance of a Taxi speeding at you with its driver and passenger side doors open, might be the recipient of the appellation Ears. Frenchy it was; thus, it shall be.

The kid went off to the army of Assisi , which had its collective ass handed to it by Perugia and Frenchy became a POW. Being a prisoner of war, even for a well-to-do kid of privilege, wakes one up I imagine and I am sure that Franceso of the Army Assisi learned all about cold, hunger, loneliness and pain.  Old Pete eventually bought the lad out and Pete's boy returned to his roistering ways, which got the boy pretty run-down and liverish.

Frenchy slowed down his alcoholic intake, laid off the trans fatty acids and gave the bread basket a pass.With the  spare time clean living afforded him, Frenchy took to reflection, meditation and prayer.  He had changed.

He had changed so much that he decided his rather brief military dreams should allow God to turn the swords into crosses.  He would command Crusaders for the Pope - that's hierarchy by the way. Guess what Frenchy asked permission to group like minded gents, not ladies, to form up with him to help the Church. Instead of chasing skirts and busting heads in gin-mills Frenchy and his pals went about nursing lepers and eventually sold their colorful high-priced duds and bling and now sported wool tunics the color of donkeys and jackasses.  At first these guys were hooted at and verbally bullied, but managed to act in a manner that was on-the-level.  More guys wanted to good. Just like in real life.

Francis asked permission to form the Friars Minor - the little brothers; not the big shots.  They had no 13th Centiry ad men designing frescoes to tout The Frenchy Report is a fast-paced, insightful look at the day's top news from renowned Perugia POW and Veteran monk Frenchy Assisi. Watch it each weekday at noon. Instead he wrote THE RULE OF THIRD ORDER OF FRIARS MINOR!

St. Francis, though born to wealth and position, cared nothing for material things and even less for hierarchy or rules. Sun Times Editorial 3/14/13

One -Frenchy cared for material goods and services -BUt he gave them a pass.
Two -Frenchy respected authority and sought out permission from the Hierarchy
Three- He not only followed the rules; he wrote the Rules.

It seems to me that the ego-maniacal Ms. Marin bullied the balance of board into making the paper's Gaudeamus Papam an idiotic Progressivo Monialis Edictum - Rebel Nunsense.  The disident nuns are not to be confused with the real nuns.  The disident nuns are whackjobs who demand that priests be women, Catholic doctrine must be acceptable to Pope Bill Moyers and WTTW and that heart wants what the heart wants.  I never run into the dissident nuns, because I work at a Catholic school.  Dissident nuns have time on the hands. Real nuns are too busy actually doing some good.

This silly editorial demand that the Nuns be Heard! by Pope Francis.Who, Pope, Preacher, or Pimp has NOT heard the loud Ladies of Liturgical Dance?   Again, the answer will be a resounding no. A priest is a guy.  Two guys can not make a baby.  Promiscuity can not be parsed.

The dissident nun is unhappy.  She is a woman.  The Church hierarchy is guys.  For too many dissident nuns, becoming an Anglican (Episcopalian priest) is no-longer an option due to age and Unitarians do not have Nun Retirement communities.  Unhappy.

Sad to say, these unhappy women will never cheer up.

If the editorial geniuses can be so wrong about their initial premise ( Francis WAS a Rebel Marxist), imagine how wrong, silly, sad and stupid the rest of the piece can be . . .on so many levels.

 Sun Times Editorial Board? As far as I know,  the Editorial Page Editor is Tom McNamee and he has help.

 Obiter Dicta - An obiter dictum is a remark or observation made by a judge that, although included in the body of the court's opinion, does not form a necessary part of the court's decision. 

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Whether a Saint, or a Louse, Why The Pope Matters


 St. Peter crucified upside down.
The first pope, as we Catholics understand the office in its infancy, was Saint Peter. He was a man of rare insight and rank cowardice, identifying Jesus as the Christ and then denying him three times when threatened with reprisal. Peter was restored to grace and then some. It was his acceptance that allowed Christianity to spread from Jews to the rest of the known world. He himself went on to Rome and, unwilling to deny Jesus yet again, was martyred there. That is what all the fuss over today's conclave is about.

 In one of the most succinct and wise couple of sentences, Jeremy Lott, an American historian sums up the importance of the Papal Conclave and the election of a Pope and asks the question 'What if We Get a Bad Pope?'  The answer - 'could be.'

We'll get through.  Our national conclave just re-elected a very bad President and the Holy Spirit was neutral on that one, in my opinion.

Chicago is a Catholic town; yet, the very papers delivered to Catholics's doors, features broadcast on Local television stations and a few radio outlets delight in diminishing Catholics, their Doctrine and their clergy.  The slant is invariably that Catholics have, or should have evolved to embrace abortion, bless promiscuity and demand to re-define the sacrament of marriage and not merely ignore their Faith.

Gay Marriage and Abortion are never going find themselves walking hand-in-hand on the Sunny Side of History with Catholics. However many Catholics will go along to get along and some will work the other side  of the boulevard with Planned Parenthood and Gay Marriage. Senator Dick Durbin is reputed to be one of the most, if not the most powerful Democrats in America and he is rock-solid behind abortion and the redefinition of marriage and family.

Any time I see Senator Durbin I am reminded of the Notre Dame Irish Catholic mystique:



There will be those who wear "Catholic" like a hideous Kelly Green plastic derby with a ChIRish button afixed to its forefront on a particular ethnic holiday, not unlike Senator Dithering Dick Durbin whom I witnessed elbowing his way through the families of First Responders in order to cozy-up to Mount Carmel Football Coaches at the recent South Side Irish Parade.

Durbin sailed past the Knights of Columbus who were one of the lead floats. They had Pro-Life banners festooning the Columbian Galley float.  Mount Carmel High School has claimed so many State Football Championships that seem like the Cook County Democratic Committee of the Future. Visceral Dick could assume that these handsome and talented young lads might be pliable material for his next run for the Senate.

However, the students of Mount Carmel are taught by Carmelite Friars who devote their lives to Our Lady and Christ's Mom is no pal of Planned Parenthood.


Sen. Dick Durbin was among the honored walkers in the parade.
"It's a much better orientation," he said. "This is a great event for Chicago. One of the best."
Source: http://www.nbcchicago.com/news/local/South-Side-Irish-Parade-Draws-Thousands-196773951.html#ixzz2NPrXVybV

Why was it great, there Senator? Great how?  Due to our "orientation?"  No beer.  Lots of breeders and their kids. Catholics.

Senator Durbin was a Pro-life Democrat until he found joys of swimming in the blood of the lambs and Planned Parenthood green stuff.  Abortion is not Okay and no Woman's Health Issue, unless one happens to be Medea . . .no, not the Code Pink one - the Greek Myth Medea. Durbin is not alone; the entire costumed Catholic coalition Democratic Leaders, with the sole exception of Congressman Dan Lipinksi ( D 3rd) are willfully working against their Catholic constituents in order to make abortion more lucrative and Gay Marriage Illinois a legal bludgeon.

I was not against Civil Unions, but I should have been it seems.  Civil Unions immediate;y made war on Catholic Charities.  That war will seem like a mere spat, once Greg Harris and Heather Steans get enough cowards in the Illinois House of Representatives to enact Gay Marriage.  This law and this agenda is not at all about love it is all about power politics.

However, comes out from the White Smoke will be greeted by a very hostile secular Western culture - not south Western ave. culture and . . . orientation.

It would make perfect sense that Holy Spirit guide the Conclave to select Francis Cardinal George the next Pope.  He is a Paddy Power 200-1 shot and the Chicago media, with the notable exceptions of the Tribune's John Kass and Mary Ahern of NBC,  have sniped at our Archbishop even before he was installed as Ordinary of Chicago.    Cardinal George is a great man who has battled pygmies like Governor Quinn, Mayor Emanuel and the City Council.  The Pope will be assailed before he is consecrated Bishop of Rome by the very powerful forces that are financing the re-definition of marriage and world-wide abortion industry.

The Pope matters.  We have had louses and saints sit in the chair of St. Peter.  As Mr. Lott pointed out above, St. Peter was very much like all of us.  Peter was the most human of the disciples. That is why Christ built His Church on that Rock.  Flawed folks are lead to redemption by a flawed fisherman.

Presidents, Senators, Governors, Attorneys General, Speakers of the House, Mayors and Alderman do not get crucified -right-side up, or otherwise.  Flawed Fishermen do.  Thanks be to God.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

South Side Parade 2013: Leo Lions Learn About The Irish Game of Camogie ( Women's Hurling)

While waiting to step off in Sunday's South Side Irish Parade, members of the back-to-back IHSA Track Championship Leo High School team were instructed in the ancient Irish game of Camogie.

The Leo Lions With Annie Redmond of the GAA Champion Camogie (camógaíocht in Irish)  Squad - St. Mary's Camogie.  Camogie is the Woman's Hurling Sport sanctioned by the Gaelic Athletic Association.  St. Mary's play at Gaelic Park through the post-Memorial Day sweltering Chicago Heat.

Camogie like hurling is played with what looks like a sawed-off hockey stick and a leather ball called the sliotar


Matches are contested by two teams of 15 a side, using a field 130m to 145m long and 80m to 90m wide. H-shape goals are used, a goal (scored when the ball goes between the posts and under the bar) is equal to three points and a point (scored when the ball goes over the bar) is equal to one point.The rules are almost identical to hurling, with a few exceptions.[6]
  • Goalkeepers wear the same colours as outfield players. This is because no special rules apply to the goalkeeper and so there is no need for officials to differentiate between goalkeeper and outfielders.
  • A camogie player can handpass a score (forbidden in hurling since 1980)
  • Camogie games last 60 minutes (senior inter-county hurling games last 70)
  • Dropping the camogie stick to handpass the ball is permitted.
  • A smaller sliotar (ball) is used in camogie - commonly known as a size 4 sliotar - whereas hurlers play with a size 5 sliotar.
  • If a defending player hits the sliotar wide, a 45-metre puck is awarded to the opposition (in hurling, it is a 65-metre puck)
  • After a score, the goalkeeper pucks out from the 13-metre line. (in hurling, he must puck from the end line)
  • The metal band on the camogie stick must be covered with tape. (not necessary in hurling)
  • Side–to-side charges are forbidden. (permitted in hurling)
  • Two points are awarded for a score direct from a sideline cut (since March 2012)[7]
Camogie players must wear skirts or skorts rather than shorts.



It is brutal! The Leo Lions, gentlemen athletes all, were astounded by the skill and athleticism required of this ancient Irish sport.




St. Mary's Camogie:
 R. Callnan, A. Byrne, A. Redmond, N. O’Keefe, C. Murray, L. Mitchell, A. Wall, E. Hennessey, Colette Gill (1-2), E. McQuaid, N. Kerlin, Miriam O’Keefe (2-0), Grainne McCrickland (1-2).

Thanks Annie!

Sunday, March 10, 2013

The Queen and The Champs - Her Majesty Bridget McMahon Fitzgerald and The Leo Lions

Leo HS State Track Champsm Coaches Pete Doyle, Ed Adams and President Dan McGrath hosted St. Patrick's Day Queen Bridget Fitzgerald under eaves the soon to be re-opened Franconello's Italian Restaurant before the start of the South Side Irish Parade.

Saturday, March 09, 2013

Yarns from Cleek Club of Chicago: Ebert's Thumbs Up for Our Irish Cousins: I'm Mike Houlihan and I Make Movies and Drive a Ford!



Careful readers* of these hoary postings will recall that sometime during the waning days of President GW Bush's second term, Chicago auteur, venture-capitalist, swordsman and wit Mike Houlihan was blackguarded by the scions of mighty thin-bloodlines when he applied for membership to Chicago's Union League Club. Ganged together, the off-spring confederation of the Yankee manques who formed that club during the National Rebellion, could now meet in an antique phone booth, but its clout yet cudgels those whom they fear. Chicago's John Huston, Mr. Houlihan, was denied membership.

Oh WASP'S sting yet smarts; though its strike reaches not the heart and soul of good.


Houli turned to a somewhat younger, but equally unclubable worthy and formed Cleek of Chicago.


As its junior member my duties and obligations are solely fiduciary and financial and the rewards are Olympian - I get to hang with Houli.


I took refuge from a broken heart and the ague among Cleek's Doric columns and the walls of gilt Shiraz and Morocco bound volumes ancienne et moderne de la philosophie, de l'histoire et de la littérature.  My foolish heart was broken due to a faux pas that embarrased the woman I love and caused her to shudder in public when I ordered salade avant le plat principal à la manière américaine at Taylor Street's Chez Joel Bistro Francais.  Somethings are just not to be done and I allowed appetite to sweep away fond trust.


 " How could you?" the delicate and chic woman protested.


" Hey, I like salad afore the meat and spuds, Sweetie and guess what?  I'm ladling French Dressing all over the greens and onions . . .in a French restaurant!"


" Oh! Qu'est-ce une bête, vous pouvez être à des moments!"  she sniffed.


" Hey, Garson!  How's about a little more of this bubbly water?"


Here, at this last graceles utterance, fawn-like tears glowed and glistened in the candle-lit quiet and her alabaster skin went crimson, "Je ne te connais même pas!"


"Hey, It's Taylor Street, Sweets and not some Russian novel with the Cossacks playing at Talleyrand."


It took me days to have the import of those thoughtless and unmeasured remarks dent my heart to a full realization of my dastardry.  Anyway. I caught a bad case of coughs and shakes to boot.


In the Cleek, among the books and brandied Toddies I could regroup, what was left of body and soul.


Having devoured Pope's Epistles II, I decanted a needleful of E & J and on this passage:



Say, what can cause such impotence of mind?
A Spark too fickle, or a Spouse too kind.
Wise wretch! with pleasures too refin’d to please;        95
With too much spirit to be e’er at ease;
With too much quickness ever to be taught;
With too much thinking to have common thought:
You purchase Pain with all that Joy can give,
And die of nothing but a rage to live.        100
  Turn then from Wits, and look on Simo’s mate,
No ass so meek, no ass so obstinate:
Or her that owns her faults but never mends,
Because she ’s honest, and the best of friends:
Or her whose life the church and scandal share,        105
For ever in a Passion or a Prayer:


Swine!  Hickey make things right.  Thus, the path to my arching heart and the cordial my ague.  Now, I might attend to the affairs of my fellow man!


I read the Sun Times and howled with approval Roger Ebert's review of Mike Houlihan's documentary epic Our Irish Cousins at the Gene Siskal Film Center.  I fairly jigged with delight that Chicago's Maecenas  of Film had coaxed up two chubby thumbs in favor of Houli's film - and Three out of Four Stars!!!!!!!!


Voila!

 As anyone familiar with Houlihan's work can attest, the man is a born storyteller — the kind of guy who can make a statement along the lines of "You know what's funny? Here's a good story. My brother died ..." and then actually pull it off. He gets a lot of laughs throughout the film, whether from well-polished anecdotes or spontaneous interactions with the people he meets. What is even more impressive, though, is the way that he manages to quietly layer in more serious-minded concerns amidst the laughter so that when he visits the church where his grandfather was baptized more than a century earlier, the scene winds up packing a surprisingly hefty emotional punch. 


Into the Cleek strode my friend! "My dear man!  Oh, Good Show, Houli! This from Ebert?

"Been at the E & J, again." he observed with a director's glass lanyard-ed around his neck.

" One or three to fight the ague and a . . ."

" My name is Mike Houlihan and I make movies."

"Yes, and so much more, like your work riding shotgun on the Salvation Army mobile food wagon in Uptown. . .and . . ."

"I love making pictures but I don't like talking about them.Anybody can direct a picture once they know the fundamentals. Directing is not a mystery, it's not an art. The main thing about directing is: photograph the people's eyes.   It is easier to get an actor to be a cowboy than to get a cowboy to be an actor. It's no use talking to me about art, I make pictures to pay the rent. I didn't show up at the ceremony to collect any of my first three Oscars. Once I went fishing, another time there was a war on, and on another occasion, I remember, I was suddenly taken drunk. For a director there are commercial rules that it is necessary to obey. In our profession, an artistic failure is nothing; a commercial failure is a sentence. The secret is to make films that please the public and also allow the director to reveal his personality.As a beauty, Dolores del Rio is in a class with [Greta Garbo]. Then she opens her mouth and becomes Minnie Minoso . . ."

I was taken a back, somehow my friend had become . . .John Ford!






* the blackuarding of Mike Houlihan by the snobs of the Union League Club - in response Mike founded the Cleek of Chicago - the Driver of the City: Mashies, Rakes and Niblicks are for smaller souls. The Cleek of Chicago is Big, Big Club!

Friday, March 08, 2013

Happy St. Baldrick's Fight for the Cure Weekend!

St. Baldrick's Fight for a Cure 2013

Today is St. Baldrick's Fight for the Cure Day.  To begin your day, watch Archbishop Patrick Elwood on Fox 32 at 7 AM this morning, as he interviews boxers from Celtic Boxing and Leo High School Boxing Clubs who will entertain the crowd at 115 Bourbon with feats of pugilism and manly derring-do.

Then on Saturday Mar 9, 2013  at 3PM  head over to 115 Bourbon Street in Merrionette Park, IL ( over by the Dominick's what's by the Waldo's by Kedzie.) and lay down Two -bits ($25, or more: Senior Citizens $15 and Kids Free) for a full card of fights, fine food, raffles, music, boon-chums, celebrities and the Bald and Soon to be Bald!

Folks volunteer to have their noggin's shaved for a donation to help fight Childhood Cancer.The Queen of St. Baldrick's Day - Her Majesty Ava*!

Listen to to the lovely Trish Gallagher O'Sullivan of Oak Lawn!

Mar 9, 2013
We are raising money for the St. Baldrick's Foundation to fund lifesaving cancer research for children. Fight for a Cure 2013 is now an annual St. Baldrick's event and a new Southside tradition which takes place the day before the Southside Irish Parade.This year our event features headshaving, boxing, facepainting, raffles, music, buffet and open bar. Please join us for A Good Time for a Great CauseDonation $25 adults $15 for under 21 Free kids 10 and underFor more information, buy tickets on line, volunteer, register to be a shavee or donate
www.stbaldricks.org/events/mypage/7780/2013


Get over there, you Mugs!


*This little Queen is what it is all about!
St. Baldrick's 2013 Fight for a Cure Honored Kid -Ava- 5 years old diagnosed November 16, 2012 with stage 3 neuroblastoma.

The Peoples A-Team - Hugo Over-Dare Productions



Gen. Roland O'Stoney - AKA Sid Arthur - Specialist: Misunderstood Visionary; Tagline: "A man is only a man and a smoked woman is a good cigar.
DRod VanClipLip (AKA Whitey Go Lightly) -Specialist: International Posse Diplomacy; Blackjack; Tagline: " I ain't crazy, but I'm a carrier"
pCisco Pathique- (AKA Bob) Specialist: Fawning Bootlicker:Tagline: "Pre-canned motion is fine in small amounts, but give me the wax paper to get it done right."

Xavier Lardwallow, III (AKA Triple XL): Specialist: Omnivore: Tagline: "Can I have the rest of that eel if you're done with it?"

One sometimes gets the impression that the mere words 'Socialism' and 'Communism' draw towards them with magnetic force every fruit-juice drinker, nudist, sandal-wearer, sex-maniac, Quaker, 'Nature Cure' quack, pacifist, and feminist in England.( . . . Hyde Park, Lake view, Evanston, Seattle and of course Hollywood - parenthetical addition my own)    George Orwell from The Road to Wigan Pier.

Thursday, March 07, 2013

Bob Woodward- What's Real; What's Not & Moue Progressive Power



Listen to the hand! Let's get Real!  The Truth. Moue Power!


I voted for Nixon. It was the the first vote that I cast as a citizen. I was a sophomore at Loyola University which meant that, like my schoolmates, I took the L from 63rd & Ashland ( Englewood & Howard) and got off at Chicago and walked to Lewis Towers Campus on Rush Street.  Loyola was rigorous.  The professors were dead-on serious and exacting.   Everyone had a job outside of taking classes and many had two or three.  If you were late for a class you often found yourself locked out of the room.

I helped out with the 18th Ward Regular Democratic Organization.  1972 was a very weird election. In the Illinois Presidential Primary votes were cast for individual delegates to the convention.  They were not tagged as generic McGovern, Humphrey, Kennedy, or Ribicoff delegates.

A particularly oily gent by the name of Ald. Bill Singer, who won his Progressive spurs with Abner Mikva's imprimatur and would later rat-out Dr. Scholl Land Deal partners and avoid a Federal Time-out, was feeling his youthful oats and leagued up with the to-be Dean of American Shakedown Artistry, Rev. Jesse Jackson in voiding all of Illinois's duly elected delegates to the convention.and grabbing political power from the clutches of people who actually knew what they were doing.

I was young and disgusted with National Democratic Party.  If George McGovern needed to steal the convention in order to get elected, why would I vote for someone with such low self-esteem?  I held my nose and down my lunch and voted for Tricky Dick Nixon.  Shortly, I began reading excerpts from the Washington Post's reports about Cuban burglars, black bags of dough, a crash near Midway*, CREEP, and GOP rat-sex-ting.

Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, Woodstein, took Nixon to the woodshed.  Shoe-leather reporting and pains-taking attention to facts and numbers unmasked a self-serving phony. Journalism became a sacred institution.

Oddly enough, the same institution that feted Woodstein would become the mask-manufacturers of self-serving phonies from the Chicago Wards all the way to the White House.

The 1972 Democratic Convention and its bloody Irish-twin Roe v. Wade (1973) was the nativity of the national and local idiocies identified as Progressive/Liberal Democrat policy. The term Liberal Democrat has faded into history and Democrat is too often associated with the power mad folly that is American Progressive thought.  If it is Progressive it either encourages State-sponsored murder (abortion/euthanasia) or manages to screw up everything from budgets to traffic.

I am a Democrat; same as I was in 1972.  98% of the votes that I have cast have been for Democrats.  I can not vote for a Progressive; especially after having voted for Pat Quinn and Toni Preckwinkle, as part of doing a solid for some pals.

Mayor Rahm Emanuel is what being a Progressive is all about.  He'd burn a library full of pre-schoolers to teach them a lesson about reading the fire code.  Most Progressives in public office and appointed pay-rollers are "ain't she/he greaters"  wealthy dopes with nothing much else to do - you find them running the CTA, serving as Lieutenants Governor, manning the seats on paid commissions, getting facetime on MSNBC while screwing up things in Congress, or at the Department of Education, or building a Sequester.
 The President and the Vice President-practiced Moue Men

Half of Woodstein, 50% of the guys who brought down Nixon, Bob Woodward has gotten himself in the jackpot with the Obama White House for getting his facts straight.  President Obama talks out of whatever side of the mouth Val Jarrett tells him to use and it seems to me does not fully understand what he puts out from that side of his oral cavity. Rahm Emanuel became Mayor of Chicago, because he could no longer even suggest a moue from the President. Bill Daley found that out too. What's the point of being a progressive when you are not allowed to at least torch a village or two.Progressive is all about power.

Hence Mayor Rahm.  Last night, true to the Progressive Code of Etiquette introduced Mr. Woodward  at a Holocaust Museum event at the Hyatt with an attempted Hyde Park Pimp Slap. The Mayor made reference to the e-mails from Gene Sperling at the White House, warning Woodward to beware his 'Obama moved the goal-post' on Congress remarks.

I am a reactionary.  I am never pre-emptively snotty.  However, once the crack against me or mine is made for no other purpose than to denigrate, I am more than happy to oblige. e.g. A Progressive is the loudmouth who tries to embarrass someone -


  • Mr. Sumner Quickbritches of the IVI -"Hey, everybody here comes the Biggest Fat-assed Catholic, Racist Homophobic, Wrong Side of History, Breeder Loser in the world!"
  • Me, All of the Above- " Runner up."
  • Sumner Quickbritches of the IVI - " Hateful! Hateful, on so many levels . . .and sad."


Progressives never learn the sobering and wholesome effects of a slap in the puss, when an off-hand remark, fib, gross-exaggeration, lie or calumny gets blown forth.  Most other folks learned the lesson early often that it does not cost you nickel one to be a good guy.
In response, Robert Woodward offered this salient truth - that Rahm was a player and his play helped cause the division in our nation. Here is nugget of Woodward's  wisdom - “There is so little focus on what’s real, what’s true.”  

 From the 1972 Democratic Convention, to the Watergate burglaries, to Roe V. Wade, through Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton, Surf-Dog Millionaire John Kerry, Hillary's Benghazi, and Obama's moues, America lost much of its greatness to play the Progressive.

What's real - America is broke and it is being bullied by a fat kid in Korea and a hillbilly with a Koran in Iran; what's true is we can do so much better, but we will not for at least three more years.

* Down the block from my cousin Larry Hickey's home in Queen of the Universe parish - watch the neighbors help the firemen:


It was at 2:29 PM on Friday, December 8, 1972, during the height of the Watergate scandal that United Airlines flight 553 crashed just outside of Chicago during a landing approach to Midway Airport. Initial reports indicated that the plane had some sort of engine trouble when it descended from the clouds. But the odd thing about this crash is what happened after the plane went down. Witnesses living in the working-class neighborhood in which the plane crashed said that moments after impact, a battalion of plainclothes operatives in unmarked cars parked on side streets pounced on the crash-site [High Treason 2 (1992, Carroll and Graf); Harrison Livingston; p426] . These so-called 'FBI types' took control of the scene and immediately began sifting through the wreckage looking for something. At least one survivor recognized a "rescue worker"--clad in overalls sifting through wreckage--as an operative of the CIA [op. cit.; p428]

Nixon whitehouse asserts control of Investigation

One day after the crash, the Whitehouse head of Nixon's "plumber's" outfit--Egil Krogh, Jr.-- was made undersecretary of transportation, a position that put him in a direct position to oversee the National Transportation Safety Board and the Federal Aviation Agency which are both authorized by law to investigate airline crashes. Krogh would later be convicted of complicity in the break-in of Daniel Ellsberg's Psychiatrist's office along with Hunt, Liddy and a small cast of CIA-trained and retained Cuban black-bag specialists.
About a month after Krogh's new assignment, Nixon's appointments secretary, Dwight Chapin, was made an executive in the Chicago office of United Airlines [op. cit.; p429], where he threatened the media to steer clear of speculation about sabotage in the crash. On December 19th--eleven days after the crash--Nixon appointed ex-CIA officer, Alexander Butterfield, as head of the FAA. Students of Watergate will remember Butterfield as the Whitehouse official who supervised Nixon's secret taping system and who exposed the existence of the infamous tapes that ultimately would force Nixon to resign.
Ostensibly traveling with Mrs. Hunt on flight 553 was CBS news corespondent Michelle Clark who, rumor had it, had learned from her sources that the Hunts were about to spill the proverbial beans regarding the Nixon whitehouse and its involvement in the Watergate burglary; Clark also died in the crash.

A large sum of money (between $10,000 and $100,000) was found amid the wreckage in the possession of Mrs. Hunt. It was during this time that Dorothy Hunt was traveling around the country paying off operatives and witnesses in the Watergate operation with money her husband had extorted from Nixon via his counsel, John Dean. Hunt had threatened Nixon and Dean with exposing the nature of all the sordid deeds he had done.

Could it be that the fuel for Hunt's blackmail of the president had little to do with the so-called "third-rate burglary" of the Democratic headquarters? Could it have had more to do with the fate of John F. Kennedy and of Nixon's awareness of who was really behind the planning and deployment of his demise? In the Watergate tapes, Nixon displays a malignant paranoia to his chief-of-staff, H. R. Haldeman, concerning E. Howard Hunt and the Bay of Pigs operation. He decides to use this paranoia to force the CIA to help cover up the Watergate affair:
"...just say (unintelligible) very bad to have this fellow Hunt, ah, he knows too damned much, if he was involved -- you happen to know that? If it gets out that this is all involved, the Cuba thing, it would be a fiasco. It would make the CIA look bad, it's going to make Hunt look bad, and it is likely to blow the whole Bay of Pigs thing which we think would be very unfortunate - both for the CIA and for the country..."
In his memoir, The Ends of Power (1978), Haldeman claims that all the references in the tapes to "The Bay of Pigs thing", were coded references by Nixon:
In those Nixon references to the Bay of Pigs [in the White House tapes] he [Nixon] was actually referring to the Kennedy assassination...After Kennedy was killed, the CIA launched a fantastic cover-up...The CIA literally erased any connection between Kennedy's assassination and the CIA...in fact, Counter Intelligence Chief James Angleton of the CIA called Bill Sullivan of the FBI (Number Three man under J. Edgar Hoover, who later died of a gunshot would) and rehearsed the questions and answers they would give to the Warren Commission investigators."

In The Haldeman Diaries (1994), editor Stephen Ambrose wrote that Haldeman, in the latter years of his life, attributed the above revelations to his ghost writer, Joseph Di Mona; by 1990, Haldeman was repudiating the entire book. One must remember that from the time Nixon fired Haldeman (1973) until December 1978, the two men were not on speaking terms; it was during this time--coincident with his prison term--that Haldeman released his book.

Wednesday, March 06, 2013

I'm in a Past Perfect Subjunctive Mood


 
'To say that he was a great lover – sensual, generous, delightfully inventive – would be gravely understating what he did not only to my body, but for my soul. . . .' 

Oh, pardon me. I didn't see you there for a minute.  This?   I was just reading some of the very kind things a past lover had to say about me in her soon to be public memoirs. That was uncommon swell of the old gal.

The writer, you ask?

Does it really matter? Really.

Well, she was a a pretty well-known TV actress. This exquisite beauty had been seen on the arms of the likes of Gene Barry, Ed " Kookie" Byrnes, Michael Ansara, you know, Cochise,  Efram Zimbalist, Jr., Darryl F. Zanuck,Jr. and Tommy James of the Shondells.   I had been working for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, as as janitor, while getting my undergraduate degree from Loyola of Chicago.  I was on afternoons from 3PM - 11PM  and  I was sent over to the Wabash Inn to grab lunch for the engineer, the janitor super, the the security guys and the two other noon shift janitors.

The engineer and everyone else got burgers or clubs, but the janitor super wanted the ribs and they took a while.  I killed the clock with a Pepsi and the great artistry of the black dude who worked the charcoal grill.   He flipped thick burger patties, cuts of steak, chicken and vegetables like he had twenty people watching the show.

A soft purring voice cooed "Cute."

Still watching the magic of motion and huffing the ambrosial scents , I rejoined, "Cute?  He's an artist."

"No, you," purred this alluring piper.  She slid onto the bar stool elegantly lifted the straw from my Pepsi and tossed it on the bar.  " Where do you work, you pretty thing?"

"OrchstraHallimajaniderded." I drawled to the best of my ability.

"What's your name precious and how old are you?"

" Padickey-nynteen,"  I cooly admited.

" I could could just . . . eat you up!  I insist you be mine!" 

In that subjunctive mood we parted company.

Yep, that about sums it up. Yes sir.

I would have liked that she had bought me another Pepsi.

Tuesday, March 05, 2013

Waiting for the White Stuff -Snowmageddon Part III




(Up date at 10:04 AM)




Nothing doing here on the great south side.  Schools cancelled and I got up at my usual time -just in case.

So far the weather is mild and no snow.  Hang, on a while, please.  Dunkin Donuts is not open yet, so I'll head over to the White Hen ( actually a 7-11 now, but like Comiskey Park old nomeclatures die hard) at 103rd & Artesian and grab some zoom-juice and cream.

( fifteen minutes later)

I went up Maplewood and saw Alderman Matt O'Shea getting out of the house.  The boy do work hard.  White Hen (7-11)  aside from a couple of lotto-venture capitalists the place was empty.  "Where's the snow?" I asked.  "Don't ask that later, smart ass," was the genial reply.  Cops and Streets and San Drivers were going up and down 103rd Street.  I pulled out onto that street with my 24 oz dark roast and cream and took a right south on Western.  At 10400 S. Western I noticed that Alderman O'Shea already had the lights on.

Unlike that goof Cappleman in the 46th Ward, or that other 40 Watt intellect Proco Joe Moreno, Matt O'Shea is an old time, walk the ward and actually talk to people about services alderman. I may disagree with Matt on rare occassions, but I respect a person who actually works for someone other than himself.

No neighbors were out when I got home, so into Casa Hickey with my coffee and back to the keys.

No snow yet,  I got my oldest, Nora, up for work - I'll drive her to the Metra at 107th and pick her up tonight.

Snow -light snow coming down.  We may get buried, or we may get another pass from God's dandruff.

Stay tuned.  I will be in the garage test-starting the snow blower.

Monday, March 04, 2013

As Concerned as Ald. Cappleman, I provided a Tasty and Wholesome 'Disincentive' for the Kids Last Night!



"I was concerned that the Mobile Food truck was providing a disincentive to those in need to receive sustained help," Cappleman said.

Man, Chicago Sun Times columnist Mark Brown has boated a 'Keeper' - rather a Cappleman - that could fry up a 'disincentive' for the remaining season of Lent.
 

Mark Brown also skeeted the pigeons released from the  Progressive "Ain't He Great" Rookie Alderman of the 46th Ward's NIMBY Feathered Boa.

Feed not the pigeons; Feed not the Poor - Chicago Values as deep-fried as those of the other nit-wit Rahm toe-dipper Proco Joe Moreno.

If any one believes that either one of these jamokes initiated a move on fried chicken breasts, wild squab, or the Red Kettle homophobes of Salvation Army without the say-so the 5th Floor Baryshnikovlet me tell you about my romantic exploits with Dean Martin Dancers.

After a long weekend ofCappleman tears and shifting of narrative, Mark Brown has boated the fowl-foe and chow wagon obstructionist.The Cappleman Couple in Happier Times

The beauty of the wiggling apologia from this wall-eyed payroller is the Progressive nuance with deconstruction -Providing a meal to the Hungry is now 'providing disincentive.'

You see, my beef with Progressives is, was and shall ever be, not with their opinions, policies and power proclamations, but their inability to allow any point of view but their own upon pain of being declared racist, stupid, uneducated, fat, homophobic, sexist, ultramontane, lazy, low-self esteem happy, or members of the Insane Deuces. I want every one to be happy, loved, fed, successful and tolerated, with the requirement of swallowing dissembling nonsense ( AKA horseshit, bullshit, parsed verbiage, memes) as if it were  deep-fried pate de fois gras .

I discussed the Cappleman Crusade on pigeons and poor people with two of my children last evening.  They were appalled by the Progressive pronouncements of this once obscure rookie time-server.

"What a creep," they chorused with varying degrees of outraged antipathy.  However, when I suggested that there just might . . . might mind you . . .be more than a bid of Gay agenda power play behind this particular assault up the Salvation Army, much as there was great Hoo and Ha directed against Cardinal George when he twisted Rahm's ears over Chicago Values, they said , "Fine, Dad . . .good one.  how about dinner?"

Unbeknown'st to me at the time, as I had not yet read of Alderman James Cappleman's descant on feeding the homeless via a Salvation Army wagon, I provided the following disincentives for my bairns!

I baked potatoes.  Purchased a tub of County Fair vinaigrette cole slaw and made garlic bread that turns an old man's hair to its original luster.

Our neighborhood's  most valuable Irish Import, head-butcher Mike Benson (left), who hails from County Adair, Ireland. 


Oven Back Baby Back Ribs - Pre-heated oven 300 degrees/Extra Large Roasting pan with rack



  • 2 racks baby back ribs marinated over night in Apple Cider Vinegar with whole pepper corns, cloves, cinnamon sticks and bay leaves: take out of marinade -Carefully remove the membrane for the back of the ribs :  Dump the marinade - use it again with something else and you'll get sick as hell.

  • 6 tablespoons Hickey Rib Rub spice blend -  from the jar in the cabinet that Conor uses on frozen pizzas and gets his ass-chewed when there is not enough of the stuff when I want to use. . .there.  Okay, here's the stuff that I'm talking about - which I stole from Charlie Olson of Lindenhurst Illinois and he uses when he slow smokes ribs and he has another one for fish. I added basil, so its mine now.



  • 8 tablespoons paprika
  • 3 tablespoons cayenne
  • 5 tablespoons freshly ground black pepper
  • 6 tablespoons garlic powder
  • 3 tablespoons onion powder
  • 6 tablespoons salt
  • 2 1/2 tablespoons dried oregano
  • 2 1/2 tablespoons dried thyme & 1 1/2 tablespoons dried basil
  •  Rub the hell out the ribs and do not -repeat do not listen to your brother in-law and add brown sugar/cane sugar/Domino's sugar to the dry rub.  Trust me.
    Place the Pigcicles meat side up on the rack in the roasting pan cook the hell out of them covered for two hours. Remove, the pan using oven mitts.

    Now, slather the meat side up with Argia B's Mumbo Sauce - The Sauce That's Boos - with a clean mopping utensil or culinary brush.  Return to oven for twenty minutes and repeat. Remove from oven and flib the slats, slather the backsides and return to oven for ten minutes.  Remove and flip the slats re-slather and return of ten more minutes. Patience.  2hrs at 300 + post slather 20min. + 20min + 10 + 10.
    Remove and set aside.

    Serve with Baked Spuds prepared earlier, garlic bread ditto and cole slaw as well.

    Back the hell out of the way!  The kids is disincentivizing up a storm.