Forty years after Watergate, Woodward and Bernstein issue new indictments against the Peacemaker.
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What a fabulous super movie that is. And yet it is was better in the original cut. The new version has lost some vital lines about Harrison Ford’s ex-wife calling him “…sushi…cold fish…” plus a currently non PC but very apt racist reference to the Replicants. That was cut, too. A policeman tells Harrison Ford to find and kill some errant “skin jobs” and Harrison Ford says that was a slang term for Replicants (human looking and acting robots) and was like calling black people a certain racial epithet. Politically incorrect but makes an excellent point.
Still, what a movie. They really don’t make them like that anymore. No modern movie has so much intelligence about the human condition along with so much action.
My wife went to sleep in front of the fire and I watched other made-for-cable movies on TV. It is almost unbelievable how much violence is on TV now. Just truly incredible how many people are killed each night on TV. Small wonder that young Americans are inured to killing. Small, small wonder. There is just too much violence on TV — and too much smoking.
The only show that gets it all right is Magic City. It has just enough killing… but too much smoking. I have gotten to totally love the character of Ben “The Butcher” Diamond. He is so amazingly good it scares me. This man is destined for very big things.
This morning I have to pay more bills. I really have too many bills. No sane human being should have as many bills as I have. I guess that tells me something.
I often think that I started to go insane about money when my father died and I no longer had anyone restraining me about money. Well, “….if a thing cannot go on forever, it will stop,” as my father said.
And as he also said, “If we only do what we can do forever, we won’t do very much.”
I think I am heading for a much more modest life as some shred of common sense sinks in.
I got up and made a lavish brunch for my wife and me. Then we lay out on the chaises on our deck and let the ocean breeze blow over us. The air smelled of pine as it had at Santa Cruz when I taught there forty years ago (was it really 40 years? Are those beautiful 21-year-old co-eds now 61? Can that be?). The smells of pine and of night blooming jasmine such as we had all around College V… those are my favorite smells. Except maybe for the smell of German short-haired Pointer fur… or maybe the smell of boxwood at colonial era houses in Annapolis and Middleburg.
Can it be that today I awakened feeling so sick about Watergate and now I am lying in the sun, dozing, opening my eyes to see a hawk above me on the thermals?
This is a better world than the world of resentment.
A man of faith in a godless age is hitting Americans where it hurts.
Mr. and Mrs. American Spectator Reader, let P.J. O’Rourke talk sense to your kids.
In Britain, defending your property can get you life.
It won’t take long for conservatives to scratch this presidential wannabe off their 2008 scorecard.
Was the President done in by the economy, or by the politics of the economy?