It's been a while since I blogged for real. Yes, I posted a good recipe last month, but that was a little bit of a cop-out on my part. The truth is that I've just been too busy to blog in earnest. I recently transitioned from one consulting gig to another, and have been neatly sidelined – almost blighted – by a month of terrible luck. You've heard about life throwing you curve balls? My life has been holding my head underwater and waiting for the bubbles to stop. And in the meantime, lots of hot, timely, blog-able topics have slipped through my fingers: bailout fever; gay marriage; the new president; unemployment. I had plenty to write about, but no time. Pretty irritating, even without the emotional torpedoing I've suffered at the hands of 2009.

Luckily, I've been keeping tabs on the things that have gone wrong for me recently. Well...actually...I've been keeping track for most of my life. I know it's probably a bad idea: people who do that with too much diligence usually end up on the same rocky path: ulcers, depression, unemployment, divorce, and a dark final day on a clock tower with a high powered rifle. But, all that notwithstanding, my bad times have inspired my next real post. But first, a disclaimer:

(Semi-) Adult Language Warning

I like to swear. I don't do it very often anymore – I have a daughter who's at a highly impressionable age – and until now, I haven't felt a need to do it here. That changes with this post. As I contemplated what to write here, I realized that I needed to unleash some colorful (read: immature and vulgar) language to fully convey my irritation with the those things and people that made the list. That said, you're probably still wondering what The List even is. Read on... (even if you've already figured it out.)

The List...of things that really piss me off

Over the years, I've developed a strong set of opinions on things that diminish the quality of my life: things that make me want to rage against the world, and turn away from the open-minded, even-keeled philosophy I try to live by. Things that make me want to cry out in astonishment, or take my toys and go home.

Things that make me want to slap the shit out of somebody.

So what is The List? It's my darker side put to words. It's a telling of things that – as Peter Griffin would say – "really grind my gears." Why is it called "The List?" Because I couldn't come up with anything better. And because this way, if someone pisses me off, I can say "You just made the list!" and have it mean something. If I like how it comes out, maybe I'll make this a regular feature.

The List (in no particular order)

Who: Retail Buyers (and/or whoever decides what to stock, and when to stock it...)
Why: It's January, fuckers! Why can't I buy a pair of gloves and a nice fucking hat? I don't need a bathing suit yet: I need to stave off frostbite while I'm running the snowblower. (Okay, it's February right now, but this happened around January 15th, and every time I look at my suddenly hole-peppered gloves, it pisses me off anew. So dates be dammed! And anyway, don't some of our worst winter storms come in MARCH! Get with the program!)

Who: Time Warner (Roadrunner)
Why: I know you fuckers throttled down regular RoadRunner service when you decided to start selling your TURBO service. And I also know that that your modem speed test gives phony results. You should be ashamed of yourselves.

Who: The City of Rochester
Why: We need more parking downtown, not less. Stop closing garages! (And I KNOW you followed it up by putting on more parking enforcement officers. Don't lie about it...)

Who: Wegman's
Why: Stop littering the ice cream aisles with knock-off brands! Perry's and Breyers are better than Blue Bunny and Turkey Hill, and every time you steal freezer space from them, I end up having to make an extra trip to Tops.

Who: RG&E (Rochester Gas and Electric)
Why: Our power lines are brand new and underground: why can't you idiots keep the power on for more than three consecutive weeks? And why don't your customer service folks ever know what the fuck happened or how long it's going to take to fix it?

Who: Parking Garages (the ones that are still open)
Why? $6.75 a day, and you're STILL not responsible if anything happens to my car?
Are you kidding me? And sell more goddamned monthly passes!

What: The Wind on the Night Before Garbage Pickup
Why: Oh my fucking God! Stop blowing my recycle bins into the woods across the street! I don't live in Chicago or on some wind-swept delta. And why do you only blow so much on THAT PARTICULAR NIGHT? There are six other nights when my garbage wouldn't be involved!

Who: The Local News
Why: Where is the story on the huge fucking accident that made me an hour late to work?

Who: Wegman's (again, and still on ice cream)
Why: What idiot told you to stop carrying Strawberry ice cream in ANY of the brands you sell? It's one of the most important flavors, and I shouldn't have to buy Neapolitan to get it!

Who: Highway Advisory Radio/Radio Traffic Reporters
Why: Aren't you supposed to actually tell us something? What exactly has to happen before you broadcast it? And why is it that if I'm in the car for an hour, I still can't catch a report that tells me anything about what I see in front of me? Do you idiots ever actually go outside and look at the roads? Where are your damn traffic copters?

Who: Time Warner (again!)
Why: How fucking stupid is this DVR? Why do I have to manually add time to the end of my scheduled recordings every week? When I set a time, freakin' keep it! I'm tired of missing the ends of shit.

Who: Rover (the morning DJ)
Why: Dude, breathe through your nose; don't talk through it. You sound like an idiot.

Who: Cops
Why: Why did you pull ME over for a lapsed inspection sticker when there were people buzzing by you at 30 miles an hour over the speed limit? Who did you think I was? John fucking Dillinger? You made me late for my doctor's appointment...

Who: The Makers of Levaquin
Why: My arms hurt, you jerks. Both of them, in the same place. For five months now. Don't sell bad medicine!

What: Glasses with Anti-Glare Coating
Why: Could these things BE any harder to keep clean? (Thanks, Chandler!) And that "cleaning solution" I got for free from Cohen? What kind of bullshit nonsense is that? I'd be better off licking them.

Who: People who Comment on CNN's Political Ticker
Why: You people are a bunch of fucking idiots. Learn to type, spell, and format, and figure out what the site is for. Stop telling CNN what they should and shouldn't post there, and stop mentioning how ashamed you are of them. What are you, their mother? It's not your site. When it's your site, you can post whatever you like. Otherwise, shut the fuck up.

What: My Prostate
Why: You brought me in here to pee. Now fucking let me pee, goddamn it!

Who: Loud Coworkers on Long In-cube Conference Calls
Why: Wow! Really? You're lucky it's bad form to hock a stapler at someone, because mine would be over the wall nine minutes into your three hour call. Your laugh is shrill and obnoxious, and you're awfully confident for someone who sounds like such an incompetent moron. Go find a conference room, dumbass!

Who: Doctors' Offices
Why: Why aren't you open in the evening? Or on weekends? What the fuck?

And finally:

Who: Greedy, Corrupt Companies Who Think Laying Off Employees is a Remedy (So, pretty much, every company in America)
Why: This helps, how? You can suck your bailout money out of my ass.

In Closing

Well, that's it: The List. It was more of a catharsis for me than I expected. In fact, I feel lightheaded, giddy, and a tad winded. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. While I contemplate both my next post and the possible next edition of The List, I hope you'll take a few minutes to share some of your own little irritants with other Frank Spot readers – if for no other reason than the good feeling you might get from doing so. Or blog about them on your own site. Who knows: if enough people starting calling out this stuff, maybe some of it will actually change for the better.

Wouldn't that be a hoot? Ah well...

See you next time.

Something in the air today said "Potato Leek Soup." Never one to disobey the air, I grabbed the handful of recipe ideas and notes I'd collected over the years, and set out to make a damn good pot of soup. A few hours later – and with almost no false starts or mishaps – I'd crafted this final recipe. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

The Recipe

3 Large Potatoes
4 Large Leeks
3 Tbsp. Butter
4 - 4½ Cups Chicken Broth (less broth makes a thicker soup)
1 ½ Cup Heavy Cream
2 Tbsp. Celery
2 Tbsp. Shallots
2-3 Garlic Cloves
¼ - ½ Tsp. Salt (to taste)
Pinch of Freshly Ground Pepper (to taste)
Dash of Marjoram
Chives and Parsley to Garnish

Separate and thoroughly clean the leeks – remember that leeks grow in sandy soil, and have lots of layers to hide bits of dirt. For the best results, cut the leeks in half lengthwise before rinsing, then rinse each layer separately. Now, chop off the dark green ends – although it's safe to use the entire leek, the best flavor/texture comes from the white and palest green parts. Chop the leeks into ¼ to ½ inch pieces and set them aside.

Peel the potatoes, then wash them in cold water to remove excess starch. Chop them into 1 to 1 ½ inch pieces, making sure to remove any bad spots/blight. (If you're doing all the chopping in advance, you can let the cut potatoes soak in a bowl of cold water, then simply rinse them before adding them to the soup. This will keep them white, and like the initial rinsing, will remove extra starch – which doesn't do anything to improve the flavor of the soup.)

Chop the celery into ¼ inch pieces (or smaller) – for the best flavor take the two tablespoons from about two thirds up the stalk.

Melt the butter in a large pot, then add the salt, pepper, garlic, and leeks. Gently sauté the leeks until they start to turn shiny and clear. Remember to stir often or constantly when sautéing, and don't let the leeks start to brown – brown leeks will give the soup a burnt flavor. Once the leeks are cooked, add the chicken broth, potatoes, celery, and shallots. Bring the mixture to a boil, then cover, and simmer until the potatoes are tender. (Check the potatoes with a fork – if they're soft enough to make mashed potatoes, they're soft enough for the soup.) Reduce the heat to low, then scoop approximately half the soup – focusing on the potatoes, more than the leeks – into a blender, and beat until smooth. (If you use an immersion blender, target the potatoes, and try not to liquefy the leeks.) Return the blended soup to the pot, then fold in the cream and marjoram. Stir until the soup is uniform in texture and color, then remove from heat. Serve immediately with a sprinkle of parsley and chopped chives. For a spicier garnish, top your bowl with a turn of cracked black pepper, or a light dusting of cayenne.

Makes about 4 1/2 (yummy) quarts.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the land,
The shoppers were rushing to make their last stand.
They’d waited ‘til now, so the presents weren’t bought,
The stores’ walls were bulging, the folks overwrought.

They were stricken with panic, would there be enough time?
It was so hard to tell from the end of a line.
And out in the aisle, the people did shove,
For the last-ever Bratz toys (lead-painted with love).
For Hannah Montana, and HSM2,
For Apples to Apples, and Panda (Kung Fu!).

There were tramplings, and fistfights, gift cards on the floor,
And the Salvation ringers, outside every door.
The parking was horrid, the lots underplowed,
And not one good word from the folks in the crowd.

It had been a bad season, a bad year I’d call it,
Where layoffs and rip-offs had cleaned every wallet.
Four dollar gas, foreclosures galore,
And most of the folks were all newly poor.

For so many people, that was the rub:
Without any money, it was presents or grub.
So it wasn’t “last minute” that this madness capped,
It was the fact that the shoppers were desperately strapped

Their bank accounts vanish’d, their 401’s locked,
Their faith in the system was tragically rocked.
As they fought with each other, they wondered aloud,
How did we get here? How were we cowed?

What was it that brought us to this sorry state?
Where DID we go wrong? Was it just some cruel fate?
So they clutched so forlorn to a bargain or three,
And remembered what fortunes had kicked off this spree.

It started with pundits, and bytes from the Fed.
Then early last spring, Bear Stearns woke up dead.
Like dominoes falling, the sickness, it spread,
Our entire economy fractured and bled.

The banks began failing, their mortgages bust,
Oil speculators stole away with our trust.
There was Fannie, and Freddie, then rich AIG,
And let’s not forget the big auto three.

They went before Congress, their hats in their hands,
Having cheated and squandered their way ‘cross the land.
They’d swindled, then dwindled their ranks as a cure,
They sucked down huge payoffs, and screwed us for sure.

And then came the galling, most horrible part,
The bailouts that punctured a hole through our hearts.
“It’s for you that we do this,” the CEO’s claimed,
“Without us, the U.S. will surely be maimed.”

“Just think about Christmas, the happiest season.
The shelves will stay full. Not to help us is treason!
Unemployment will surge, and prices will too!
And who will be blamed? It’s not us. It’s you!”

“But help us,” they claimed, “and the States will rebound.
You’ll save countless jobs, and praise will resound!”
The argument stuck: unemployment is bad,
What little girl would want that for her dad?
Who in the country could stand and let fall,
Those huge corporate giants who employed one and all?

So elected officials, their consciences clear,
Happ’ly unlocked our coffers, and toasted good cheer.
They’d save our big business (their own portfolios too).
But shamefully, sadly, there’d be nothing for you.
No protection, no structure, no oversight sought,
No accounting, no refund, no voiced second thought.

Cuz’ as you’d expect, the “cure” wasn’t real.
The banks took your money, but they still wouldn’t deal.
“Pay your big bloated mortgage on time,” they still bleat,
“Or come New Years Day you’ll be out on the street.”

And in every business, the cry was the same,
“Hey, look, those dumb sheep gave us money! How lame!
Let’s play in the cash, and make big money forts!
Then come two-thousand-nine, more layoffs – like sport!”

Which brings us right back to the scene at the mall,
Where poor vanquished shoppers lay right where they fall.
‘Til just before midnight – St. Nick’s op’ning bell –
When the shoppers filed out of their bargain-hunt hell.

The wrapping was wrapped, all the boxes were filled,
And in all the commotion, sixteen were killed.
But it wasn’t the Grinch that killed off the season,
It wasn’t E. Scrooge you can use as a reason.

It was greedy big business, and government fools,
Who tanked capitalism, and made up new rules.
It was DC and Wall Street, and our friends at the Fed,
Who gave us all pause, and a winter of dread.

And now in the silence of this one sacred eve,
We struggle to find anything left to believe.
Investment, or business, a work ethic that pays,
Something to bank in the lean coming days.

‘Twas the night before Christmas in two-thousand-eight,
When Santa Claus comes, it might just be too late.

Election Night is almost here. I'm actually watching the clock count down as I write this post. And I'm feeling pretty grim. If you've been following The Frank Spot, you'll know that I recently lamented the state of politics in America – specifically the rough and brutish political discourse of my own party. As we get closer to Election Night, I can't help but see the spreading lack of civility – and, in fact, the rise of near-fanaticism – that grips the country. Behavior I thought (hoped!) might have been limited to my own party's highly contentious primary race, has spilled into the national forum. I'm now held in thrall by the spectacle of it as it burns across a once lush democratic horizon. This is unlike any election to which I've been knowing witness and participant. We don't just need change in American government – we need a fire extinguisher. And, oh, yes, for a lot of people to get a clue.

The American political system – indeed the American society – is supposed to be a model of the best: our citizenry, enlightened and altruistic; our politicians, role models; our process, unbreakable. But instead of the triumph of a dream in action, I hear the shredding gears of our society grinding on each other. You may have blocked it – relegated it to background noise, or dismissed it as "people frightened of...something", or even heralded it as the promise of a new and better tomorrow – but it's a harsh and discordant sound. And it speaks what I consider an important truth for our time.

We're ignorant and deliberately angry. We've sabotaged ourselves. And we now stand to lose what we prize in the fires we set.

My Opinion is the Only Right One: The Cry of an Ugly American

It all comes down this one thing: too many people think they're absolutely right, and anyone who disagrees is wrong, and even dangerous. It's as if the vagaries of the world have been revealed to them, and they have discovered the elusive and uniting answers: it's their candidate, their political belief, their judgment that is best. It's the path to radicalism I mentioned in my article on PETA; the path where strength of conviction overshadows quality of belief:

"I believe so strongly, that I must be right. No one could possibly believe something else! And I will make them see..."

Does that kind of rhetoric sound familiar? If not, page through some history books. Humanity's past is plagued with that kind of thinking. And it is one of the most dangerous paths for 21st century America.

Fixing It (Or: Geez, Frank, do you just want to insult us, or do you have some wisdom to impart?)

If you're wondering, I know how ominous my words sound. I impart such weight upon them because of how deeply American behavior affects me. You may not realize it, but it affects you too. Probably in ways some people would never notice, or understand. It affects our economy, our standing in the world, our personal lives, our sense of freedom, and our belief in our ability to think and act in our own best interests. I'm hard on the world, because wry insight and smatterings of sarcasm aren't always sufficient to spark necessary introspection, or foment real change. As you read on, if you read on, I hope you'll start to consider what stokes the rage and activism in the people around you, and possibly see the obvious path back to sanity.

The Silly Stuff (Or: Oh...my...GOD...Could these things BE any less important?)

It's a basic human component: to have an opinion. You can care about anything you want. In America, you can say (almost) anything you want. I don't want to interfere with that. But people look awfully silly when they cite nonsense in their political discussions, or when they deliberately base important opinions on insignificant things. That silliness gets dangerous when it becomes the basis for activism and voting choices, and I see that all around. Here are some top contenders for things people really seem to care about, but probably shouldn't:

Obama's Middle Name is Hussein
Well, that clinches it for me. We all know that your middle name says EVERYTHING about who you are as a person; including what you'll do if you reach the White House. Sorry, all you guys with middle names like Muriel or Adolph.

The truth is that you'd probably have better luck predicting Obama's future presidential decisions with a Magic Eight Ball or a cupful of tea leaves (with a wonky cross that says that your guy will muck up the country, but you'll be happy about it...) than by using his middle name as prophecy. Ultimately, it's not much of a predictor at all. It should be sitting in the debunked pile alongside Phrenology and anything uttered by a mechanical Gypsy fortune-teller on an Atlantic City boardwalk. Want to predict what kind of decisions he'll make? Look at his writings and his record, and listen to what he says. (But even so, keep in mind that past behavior and campaign speeches are, at best, uneven predictors of future actions...)

John McCain is Old and Could Die Soon
Because only old people can die soon. Nobody young can ever die. Sorry, JFK, you made a mistake taking that bullet in Dallas.

The truth – for those who couldn't dig it out of the sarcasm – is that anyone can die, anytime. Health, wealth, and status be damned. People die when they die. And it's not usually convenient for anyone involved. To put it in more perspective, Obama and Biden could win handily, and through a series of fatal mishaps in January, Nancy Pelosi could become President. February 2, 2009: somebody that NOBODY voted for is redecorating the Lincoln Bedroom and reading up on Area 51.

The Republicans Spent $150,000 on Sarah Palin's "Look"
Who cares? It's not your money. Do you get angry when your neighbor buys an expensive vase to put in his loo?

The truth is that this is so irrelevant, I don't even need to make a joke about it. Shame on you if this helps you decide which lever to pull.

The Important Stuff (Or Why Don't You Care About That?)

So, there people are, making life-changing – country-changing – decisions based (at least partly) on unimportant drivel, and (at least partly) ignoring some really important facts. I can't say that acknowledging these issues would solve anything, but how your candidate deals with them – understands them – is an important aspect of the President he will become. When you consider your vote, consider these points:

The Economy Goes the Way it Goes, and it Doesn't Matter Who's President
A lot of pundits like to lay the current financial crisis at the feet of the President (and his administration). This is such a misleading oversimplification, and so many people seem to believe it. I urge all of you in this camp to ditch your dog-eared pamphlets on the The Butterfly Effect, and read up on real causal relationships. Better yet, take an economics class. You'll find our economy is complicated beyond belief, based heavily in greed, faith, and luck, and influenced only slightly by the President's daily routine.

The truth is that the market rises or falls on the backs and actions of consumers, investors, lenders, and speculators. Yes, the government contributes to the moods and actions of those people, but at about the same level as a bad haircut affects your grocery bill. Fact: The economy is as healthy or sick as we make it. Ironically, just like the government.

Wealth Redistribution is Bad
That's right: bad. Let's call this what it is – punishing people who've done better for themselves than you have. It's a slap in the face of capitalism: you're richer than I am, and that makes me angry. So I'm going to take some of what you've earned away from you...

The truth here is that this is exactly what shouldn't happen. Yes, from a human perspective, the have's should help the have-not's. But it's not the government's job to mandate that. And if you look closely, you'll see that the entire tax system already takes more from the rich than the poor. That brings us to our next entry:

Income Tax is (Already) Applied Unfairly
Let's ignore the fact that income tax was originally unconstitutional, and chalk it up to a necessary evil for our country. The bottom line is that rich people already pay more than you do. That's right: for every dollar they make, they pay more in taxes. It's a sliding-scale-burden that the rich have been shouldering quietly for years. When was the last time you heard a rich person complain that YOU weren't paying enough in taxes? They certainly have that right, since the dollar-for-dollar facts are on their side, and they don't get any additional service out of the government for their additional payments. Yes, they have loopholes and get tax breaks, but not for just making more money. There's no checkbox on form 1040 that says "I'm rich, cut my taxes by 20%." Their tax breaks come from what they do with their money after they've earned it (and been taxed on it). If you did with your money what they do with theirs, you'd get tax breaks too.

In short: I would never try to punish someone who does better in life than me. As an American, I root for them, and hope they root for me.

Other People Count Too
Back to my radical-bashing, here. No matter how strongly you believe in what you believe, there's a good chance that roughly half the people in the country disagree with you. In fact, they think you're a dangerous idiot who just doesn't get it. What's good for you is bad for them. What you look at as a right, they look at as an abrogation of their ideals or faith. What you think they should give away, they think they should protect with a gun.

I could spend a lot of time on this one – oh, goodness, this is an important and timely point. The Onion recently posted a great article, one so good that I wish I had written it myself. Because, even as satire, its words speak more truth than Obama's middle name would if it was interrogated by Jack Bauer.

Report: 60 Million People You'd Never Talk To Voting For Other Guy

The truth here is that even when you're absolutely right, you're probably still half-wrong. We aren't – and will likely never be – a one-size-fits-all world. And getting louder and angrier doesn't lead to anything...but more noise and anger. You've become the problem. And in election 2008, you've hurt more people than you can count. No matter who wins – landslide or not – there's a good chunk of Americans who are going to burn for the next 4 years because you got your way.

The Rest of the World Hates Us
This is true, and the cause is: George Bush?<BUZZ!> Wrong answer!

The truth is that other countries have been hating us since the day we were born: the Brits wanted their tea taxes and a well-behaved colony; the Southerners/Northerners hated us for abolishing slavery/having slaves/abridging state's rights/etc.; the Japanese saw us as a roadblock to victory in their war against China; the Soviets feared our reach and influence so much that they put missiles in Cuba; 20 terrorists learned to fly without asking how to land. And George Bush wasn't precursor to any of that hatred. The fact is that nations hate other nations, for a variety of (good and not-so-good, valid and not-so-valid) reasons. It's a simpleton's view to point to the sitting President as if he is the focus of it all. Because of the political system in America – the one that dismisses a good President after eight years, but lets a bad teacher have tenure for life – most of why other nations hate us happened on some other President's watch. Plans for 9/11 didn't start on GWB's inauguration day – the terrorists didn't know him any better than we did on that day. Figure it out...

We've Lost Our Place in the World's Esteem
This isn't the same as the political brand of "hate" above. This is the view of the ordinary world citizen, reported back to us through the media, and evidenced in our ongoing relations with our work-a-day foreign counterparts.

The truth is that our behavior as a nation is the thing that hurts us most. Our lack of unity, our propensity for vicious and unrestrained in-fighting, and our daily attempts to silence political diversity and abridge the rights of our fellow citizens, speaks more loudly than any national political action. Put simply: we behave badly, and the world sees it. We lie, cheat, and manipulate, we rape each other economically, and ignore the poor and infirm. We rally for special interests, no matter the impact on the mainstream, and weaken ourselves through social movements that strike at the very heart of our citizens' beliefs. In no uncertain terms, we've lost our place in the world, because we've lost our way. We've lost what made us great. We behave like thugs and third-worlders. If they hate us, it's because there's little to love anymore.

Vote for Change, but Don't Expect It

On Tuesday, we'll file into voting booths all around the country – except for those incomprehensibly-sure-of-themselves voters who already knew everything there was to know and voted in advance (read: stopped listening) – and pull levers, push buttons, punch cards, and express our unmitigated opinions in increments of one vote. At the end of the day – counting problems and claims of voter fraud notwithstanding – one man will be crowned king for 2009-2012. Here's what I don't expect:

Apologies.

After the election, the history books will start to re-craft the race. They will revise the facts to fit the outcome, and try to hide the blue-faced breach-birth that was election 2009. But no one will apologize. Not to the candidates, not to the public, not to disaffected/disenfranchised party brethren, and not to the neighbors whose hopes for tomorrow were suddenly and soundly thrashed. In the absence of that – and the commitment to each other it portends – I think change is unlikely.

I mentioned it above: the President, even the government, isn't the problem with America. They are both a reflection of what's wrong with all of us. Obama or McCain can't fix us. They can't make us smarter, wiser, or once again civil. They can't make greed less fruitful, or thoughtful debate more powerful than brutish threats and fear-mongering. In the end, all they can do is legislate and try to lead.

It's up to us to do the rest.

What is it about radicals?

I ask this question because — as I've mentioned a few times here — I'm rarely radicalized about anything. I strive to make room for the other guy and his ideas. I even make room for ideas that others characterize as "obviously crazy." And I'm careful to realize that it's possible for anyone to believe strongly in anything. In fact, I often warn people about underestimating the power of others' beliefs. It's at the heart of many conflicts. I won't go too deep here — this is a topic well-suited for a standalone post — but Democrats can't believe that Republicans are as convinced of their own rightness as they themselves are, and terrorists rarely believe that we infidels stand as staunchly behind our ideals as they do theirs. It's like a fundamental flaw in the radical thought process:

"We believe so strongly, that we must be right. And no one could possibly believe something else!"

That's where radicalism almost always goes. And it's not long before some crazy ideas — ideas that even I have to decry, despite my commitment to keeping an open mind — follow. That's where PETA just landed: smack-dab in the middle of crazy.

Crazy Town, USA (Or: What the Heck is PETA Thinking?)

So what am I talking about, and why is ice cream dying an untimely death? Well, don't fret — there's no need to rush to your local grocery store and stock up on Neapolitan and Mint Chocolate Chip. There's not really a crisis here, just a (phenomenally) bad (and kind of sickening) idea that got some mainstream media attention, and my own prediction of where it would lead. Ultimately, I'm sure calmer heads and common sense will prevail; that's usually the case when urban radicals start mincing about. And if not that, then the sheer "EWWWWWW" factor of this ought to prompt quite a resistance movement.

Here's what started it all:

PETA Urges Ben & Jerry's To Use Human Milk

This article appeared on an NBC-affiliate web site, and was briefly picked up by some of the bigger news outlets. At first, I thought it had to be a joke, or a mistake, or some kind of bad publicity stunt, soon to be followed by a PSA with Leo DiCaprio "milking" a cow-costumed Brooke Shields in an ice cream store and pleading for better treatment of our milk animals.

I was so wrong. A quick surf over to the PETA web site provided a chilling, creepy confirmation:

The Breast Is Best! PETA Asks Ben & Jerry's to Dump Dairy and Go With Human Milk Instead

Yes, that's right. They really meant it. It wasn't a mistake, or a sophomoric hack of the NBC site's web server, nor part of a tongue-in-cheek public awareness campaign. It was just plain crazy on display.

The New Ice Cream (Or: The Wet Nurse Billionaires' Club)

Now here's one thing I've come to believe about radicals — and I know that many people can't get to where I'm going, but I'm confident in this assertion: I think that somewhere inside them, or at the heart of their doctrines — someplace very deep — there's probably a good idea. Possibly even a great and fundamentally good idea: saving their religion; saving their children; preserving their way of life; ensuring democracy. But somewhere between the root and the fruit, something went very wrong. The idea became heavily distorted, and vanished behind the weight of its fervency and pretense. I think that happens nearly every time, and although it's possible for the tangled mess of radicalized ideas to create something positive, the good money has got to be on disaster.

That's what we'd have here: the disaster that killed ice cream.

I mean, can you imagine it? Women lactating professionally — not to raise healthy children for mothers who can't breast feed — but to end the average American's meal with a Happy Ending Sundae. Or to fill ice cream trucks with Nutty Buddies for those hot, high-summer days. If it worked, those women would make Bill Gates and the kingdom of Saudi Arabia look like a poor man and a kingdom of paupers. Ben and Jerry's would usher in the first class war of the 21st century: instead of the haves and the have-nots, there'd be the B's and the double-DD's.

Luckily, I can't really imagine it working. No matter how noble is the idea of ethical treatment for animals, I can't see rational women selling their milk for ice cream (and all the other cow-milk-based products that would be sure to follow). And even if women did line up for thrice daily milkings and phenomenal paychecks, I just don't see average Joes (or any sane human beings) lining up for a pint of Mint-Chocolate-Chip-and-Boob-Milk Ice Cream. (Disclaimer: Yes, yes...there are those of you who would probably line up on your respective sides of this supply line, but that puts you squarely in with the radicals I mentioned above. Either that, or you'd be from France or Hollywood...)

No, in the end, this is just a bad — I daresay stupid — idea, that would kill ice cream as we know it, and probably damage our psyches in ways I can't even begin to write about. (Although, I could certainly see breast-milk-trauma novellas flowing from the pen of Harlan Ellison, but that's fodder for yet another post. And I suppose that if PETA had said, "Hey, use soy milk instead of cow milk," I would have had to find another topic to blog about. The moral there: stupidity is good inspiration.)

Be Kind to Animals...But Respect the Food Chain

In closing, let me point out that it's important to treat animals well. Whether pets, food animals, or wild nuisances that eat your tomatoes the night before you're ready to pick them, they all deserve kind — and yes, ethical — treatment. They shouldn't be tortured, or abused, or killed inhumanely. They shouldn't be terrorized, and forced into lives of undue suffering. I think — I hope — most of my readers will agree with that. If that message still exists at the core of PETA's insanity, I'm happy to get behind it. And what's more, I don't even need PETA to lead that charge. It's right because it's right.

That said, I have a piece of parting advice for the folks over at PETA: there's this thing called the food chain. Read up on it.

Now I'm off to have a nice big bowl of Strawberry (Cow Milk) Ice Cream. Bon Appetit!