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In comments below at the Boone Bootycall, the always brilliant and highly perceptive BillS had this to say:
For those pictures, you owe us a pic of Bradley Cooper in all his furry-chested glory.
I agree, but since I can’t get my hands on any pics of Mr. Cooper, here is the less furry chested, but always gloriously gorgeous, Nathan Fillion:
I couldn’t believe that Jesus got hit by lightning, until I remembered that I always got hurt when trying to play catch with my dad too.
Before we get tangled up in Boone, I’d like to thank everyone who’s contributed to the World O’ Crap Beg-A-Thon (whole sad story here). Both Mary and I have been extremely touched by the generosity of our fellow Crappers, and made to experience an unusual sense of validation. But only one of us managed to maintain her dignity and not get all misty-eyed and choked up about it. But I don’t want to name names.
The pledge break will run til Saturday (so I should also thank you for your patience), at which point it will climax with a New and Improved Beast Blogging Spectacular. I wish I had some more tangible way to express my gratitude — a tote bag, or the entire Peter Davison “Fifth Doctor” Collection on VHS — but I’m hearing rumors that sometime during the week there may be an appearance by a Special Guest Star.
In the meantime, however…we’ve got Pat Boone.
My long-cherished friend, Ronald Reagan, during his second term as president of the United States, made this solemn observation: “There are no human solutions to the world’s problems now; there are only divine solutions.”
To which God repled, “There you go again.”
Chew on that a few minutes.
The unmistakable mark of a winning argument is that it reminds you of cud.
In just the last few years, and indeed in the last few months, problems and crises are erupting around the world that do defy human solutions.
Pat has a point. Lately it seems as though there are no man-made solutions to the many problems we face today, even when those problems are themselves man-made. For instance:
What could any government or private organization possibly do to prevent a red carpet nip-slip from a geriatric fame whore? Sure, engineers could apply a leather vest to his naked torso in an effort to prevent the escape of elderly man-teats (a technique experts call “Topless Kill”), but it only takes one glimpse of a wizened areola to turn TMZ or Wonkette into a Jonestown-like abbatoir.
What can mere mortals do when confronted with a stubbornly nude Pat Boone? Again, engineers could fabricate and deliver a banana hammock (a technique known as “Junk Shot”) but science and technology remain powerless to efface an image so harrowing that it becomes embossed on your memory in scar tissue. Though man-made, it is a problem which is simply beyond the scope of primate ingenuity.
What can mere mortals do about the a rash of cataclysmic earthquakes? Or tornados that sweep in violently from nowhere?
In Pat’s day, tornados entered discreetly through the tradesman’s entrance.
Or hurricanes, even when the weather forecasters warn us they’re coming?
Perhaps mortals could heed the weather forecasters’ warnings, and maybe call on some sort of federal group skilled in managing emergencies, which could anticipate problems, marshal resources, and coordinate a response. But Pat’s probably right that cultivating a sense of learned helplessness would be less insulting to God.
As the Chicken Little of our day, Al Gore, wins a Nobel Prize for proclaiming “The sky is melting! The sky is melting!” to all who will listen, we learn that a growing majority of knowledgeable scientists disagree with him, and also that some of the major “experts” on global warming have been “cooking the books.”
Along with earthquakes and storms, another problem which seems immune to human effort is stemming the flow of right wing bullshit.
And even the most serious believers in eminent meltdown, like the folks at Kyoto and Copenhagen, agree that if we earthlings did everything in our power to curb all carbon emissions for the next 20 years, the combined efforts would only result in less than one degree of change!
This is similar to a problem faced by paramedics who come upon a shooting victim. Yes, it’s possible they can slow or stop the bleeding, stabilize the victim’s vital signs and transport him to a trauma center, but eventual he’s just gonna get old and die.
So what’s the point? Humans really can’t do anything about it . . . but pray, perhaps.
As the unimaginable gusher pours billions in precious oil into the Gulf waters, not only wasting precious fuel but murdering sea life and the ecological balance of our southern and eastern sea coasts
Yes, the spill is decimating wildlife, but the important thing is to find some way of gathering up the oil so that Pat can take it to Mordor.
…nobody from the president on down or the panicked brass at British Petroleum has been able to stop it. Try as they all will, it seems to be out of human hands.
Maybe we should find someone with inhuman hands, like the Creature From the Black Lagoon. Sure, it may sound like a crazy plan — but he’s the only hope we have left!
And it’s so crazy that it Just. Might. Work!
Unfortunately, he was poisoned by dispersants.