Daily Archives: October 24, 2019

With Halloween just a week away, many military families will be hurriedly picking through civilian department store and Base Exchange sales racks in the days to come, looking for the perfect trick-or-treating outfit.

Im always amazed by the unbelievable selection of reasonably priced costumes for kids and adults nowadays. Anything goes, from Attila the Hun to Sexy Mr. Rogers, and superhero frocks aplenty. With so much selection, its really not hard to track down the desired duds that will impress friend and candy-distributing homeowners on Oct. 31.

Those of my generation, however, remember it wasnt always this easy.

When I was a kid, well-made costumes were a privilege of the well-to-do. They were not only pricey for our budget-strapped, middle class families, but also hard to find in department stores that, gasp, didnt even have Halloween displays until early October. This left us with two options: the mass-produced boxed sets containing stamped plastic resemblances of a character that sort of looked like Casper, Fred Flinstone or Bugs Bunny, or wait for it the dreadedhomemade costume.

While quite affordable, the option A of my childhood meant purchasing a product of the lowest quality imaginable. Each came with a mask and a sheath that tied in the back. The latter was nothing more than a 100-percent polyester, paper-thin hospital gown. Not only did the kids wearing these outfits look nothing like the characters they longed to portray, they couldnt go near open flames lest they catch fire and melt into puddles of synthetic goo.

The masks had two round holes to see through and a tiny slit at the mouth not quite big enough to allow breath to fully escape, making it a steamy, uncomfortable affair. Made of eggshell-thin plastic, the masks cracked with the slightest pressure, and the thin elastic band that went around the head had a working life of about 20 minutes.

Wearing one of these masks was like shooting craps. While trick-or-treating, you might gingerly lift the mask to take a bite of yourCharleston Chew, and SNAP, the elastic breaks, the plastic cracks, and youre left with no disguise and a huge, red welt on your face for the rest of Halloween night.

Throughout my childhood, I never got to wear a boxed costume. My first-grade-teacher-mother refused to buy them because, according to her, They require no creativity. Instead, we were set adrift to create our own homemade characters from what we could find around the house. For kids of our Charlie Brown generation, a white sheet with two holes cut in it would do the trick. Unfortunately, all of our sheets had daisies or model Ts printed on them.

So, for a few years, I used my grandmothers grey wig as the basis for disguising myself as an old lady. I added a crocheted shawl (not hard to find in the 70s) and little glasses I fashioned from pipe cleaners. Voila! I looked just like Aunt Bea wearing Converse tennis shoes. Other Halloweens, I was politically incorrect before anyone worried about political correctness, dressing as a hobo or an Indian squaw.

With his paper route money, my brother once ordered a Creature of the Black Lagoon mask from a Mad Magazine ad. He felt it alone sufficed as a costume and wore it with jeans and a sweatshirt. Despite the human clothing accompanying his mask, my brothers get up terrified me because I had recently seen the movie. We watched Chiller Theater double-features every Saturday night after The Carol Burnett Show. One Saturday, we saw The Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954) followed by The Torture Chamber of Dr. Sadism (1967). Or was it The Man Who Reclaimed His Head (1934)? Either way, my life was never the same.

Those old horror movies definitely added fear factor to my Halloween experience. My rational side knew the ghouls and zombies in the street were just my brother and his mischievous friends, but my instincts told me they could very well drag me off to a laboratory to be dismembered.

Looking back on those experiences, I now realize it didnt matter whether the costumes were boxed or homemade because trick-or-treating was less about the apparel and more about beingscary. Or, if you were like me, beingscared. And like the Chuckles, Necco Wafers and popcorn balls on Halloween night, there were plenty of each to go around.

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Halloween for the 'Charlie Brown generation' | Commentary - Public Affairs Office of Headquarters, US Army Combined Arms Support Command and Fort Lee

I am never quite sure, when I sit down to write this column each month, whether its going to be a jeremiad or an exercise in looking as much on the bright side as my retinas can stand. At the moment my outlook is generally positive, though I always keep dread within arms reach. To get rid of anxiety entirely is like inhabiting a home without smoke detectors. This is especially true if we occasionally amuse ourselves by setting the couch on fire.

As I stated in a response to a letter last month, I have always been compelled by my own nature to push the envelope. I have never been able to leave well enoughor bad enoughalone. Taking chances is an essential part of creativity. At any rate, it has been for me. Ive loosed dozens of literary and musical creations into the world that range from silly to edgy to frankly offensive. I wont disown my children and I wont apologize for them. These works for the most part were not borne of any political or philosophical agenda, or even of any strong point of view. They were ideas that made me laugh that I carried beyond the threshold of good taste.

I try not to inflict my questionable humor on readers of The Syncopated Times, since this is not the place for it. I used to run a few milder items as filler before I had enough contributions (from more conscientious writers than I am) to plug those wide open spaces. Readers who follow me on Facebook do see some of my characteristic commentary. And yet, there is so much that I dont say there. Bad boy that I am, I realize that certain of my unfiltered observations would not go unpunished.

The freewheeling days before social media do evince a feeling of real nostalgia, even in one who recoils at the word. A generation ago I could read a poem or sing a song and offend a whole room full of people; today the outrage would travel halfway around the world almost instantaneously. And the denizens of the internet have developed the ability to detect and call out all who merely appear to behave untowardly. Villagers today have brighter torches and sharper pitchforks.

Moral outrage is a hell of a drug, and there is enough of it on both sides to keep things unduly warm. To be irreverent without faction, one might as well just paint a target on oneself. During the recent Dixie controversy covered in these pagesand which we address (I hope) one last time this month before moving on to other businessripe produce and brickbats came at us from both directions.

One commenter expressed the wish that I die slowly and painfully from a lingering disease. Others no doubt regarded me as the nasty uncle they have to physically restrain themselves from strangling at Thanksgiving dinner. No one knows quite what to make of a gadfly without portfolio. Thats why God made flyswatters.

And this essay is not aimed simply as a polemic against Political Correctness. Certain people have a legitimate grievance, having been marginalized and beaten up on for ages. As scurrilous a humorist as I am, I wont heap my satire on the pain of others. And as for my stumbling and blurting in the course of my (all-too infrequent) revels, I can understand how my maladroitness might be perceived as abusive. Comparing clumsiness to actual evil, evil comes across as the lesser of the two evils.

In a quote usually attributed to Oscar Wilde (though, like everything else he said, he probably never said it), A gentleman is one who never hurts somebodys feelings unintentionally. The editor of this periodical is certainly no gentleman, though he admits to being a poet and a peasant; a troubadour and a troublemaker. And he never can tell just how his jokes will land. Cleverness is its own reward; frequently, there is no other.

I chose an illustration for page 14 in this issue. I think its brilliant and illustrates the point of the surrounding text eloquently; it asks the question and answers it. Yet I do keep my dread by my elbow. By including it, its hard for me not to come across as a smart aleck (or a smart something else that begins with the letter A). But there it is. If you didnt want me to push that particular envelope you shouldnt have left it out on the counter.

Perhaps too late in lifeand as one whose alleged wit ensures he is a target for such attentionsI begin to realize that it hardly matters what anyone says to me. I find that while Ive constantly agonized about everyone elses feelings, I can honestly say Ive been roundly scolded by the absolute best. However benign my intentions, I was there to take itand I took it. As a wielder of a considerable public megaphone, it really is my business to be sensitive to the sensibilities of others while toughening my expansive hide to their abuse. The Editorial Office is also the Complaint Department. Its part of the job and one gets used to it.

I still cant say whether this is a litany of woe or a hosanna. Whatever turmoil Ive experienced over the past two months, Id say the bright side somewhat prevails.

The envelope may indeed push back, but we maintain our prerogative to push it slyly forward again when the opportunity presents itself. And for that, at the very least, we may be thankful.

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The Envelope Pushes Back - The Syncopated Times

Richard French is a senior fellow at the graduate school of public and international affairs at the University of Ottawa. He spent nine years as an MNA in Quebec.

With Donald Trump in the United States and Boris Johnson in Britain, why does the re-election of Justin Trudeau leave us all feeling so empty?

He is a nice enough fellow, a relief after the lugubrious Conservative government that preceded him. One cannot doubt the sincerity of his commitment to gender equality and protection of minorities. He is getting better behind a lectern. We can hope that recent revelations of his past may calm his ardour for sharing the pieties of political correctness. He is a masterful retail politician, an artist who surfs on the 30-second encounter, selfie included.

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He is not hard to like, but he is hard to respect. He leaves us hungry for some depth and some gravitas, and, it would seem from the evidence, he leaves his ministerial colleagues in the same state.

The first requirement for a prime minister in a Westminster system is to keep his cabinet and his caucus together, all more or less united and pulling in more or less the same direction. But our Prime Minister apparently does not talk to his colleagues; they have to deal with his staff in the Prime Ministers Office, who apparently protect him from being unduly involved in his own government, even while they engage in the detailed policing of ministers and MPs speech and behaviour.

Whether one considers the SNC-Lavalin affair a matter of corruption or simply the product of a well-meaning but clumsy attempt to protect employment, it clearly establishes one sobering conclusion: the Prime Minister is out of touch with his colleagues, his government and his own staff.

In his defence before the ethics commissioner, he pleads ignorance of his underlings actions and, indeed, of the progress of the file in general. It is not, apparently, his fault if they were too keen in pursuing his objectives. Instead of their falling on their swords, he pushes them. So he just did not know. Another thing he apparently did not know is exactly how damaging such an admission is.

Weve heard of ministerial responsibility. Mr. Trudeau is writing a new chapter in the unwritten Westminster constitution: prime ministerial non-responsibility.

The entire unedifying SNC debacle showed, first and foremost, that he had no idea of the person he had named as his minister of justice, no sense of who she was and how she thought and behaved. This is stunning.

It was not as if the crisis emerged in the months following her appointment. There was lots of time and many occasions for the Prime Minister to get to know her. An intimate knowledge of the character and personality of fellow politicians is the bread and butter of public life.

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Mr. Trudeaus political heritage and his attractive persona may have absolved him of such a requirement during his political apprenticeship; if so, this was an unfortunate flaw in his preparation for higher office.

Advisers can palliate lack of substantive knowledge. High political office involves such a diversity of issues that no one can master any significant proportion of them. We pay our politicians to take expert advice and decide how to reconcile it with a myriad of other factors they must legitimately consider, certainly including public opinion, the global environment, the legislature, the caucus and so on.

But only the politician can evaluate the motivations, values, reflexes, abilities and pressures of other key political actors. Here, the Prime Minister has failed spectacularly.

Someone has to explain to Mr. Trudeau that he is not the head of state of a republic, whence he can embody the nation while floating above the gritty realities of politics; rather, he is the head of government and the captain of a team deeply and necessarily enmeshed in those same realities.

Once Mr. Trudeaus father, Pierre Trudeau, was humbled by a minority government in 1972, he recovered. He brought some important new personalities into his entourage. He went on to become one of our longestserving and most influential prime ministers.

Justin Trudeau will never have his fathers intellect. He is indeed our Prime Minister, but it remains to be seen if he has the courage to become a true leader.

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He won. Now Justin Trudeau has to do better - The Globe and Mail

With a 96% critic score and a 46% audience score, the public opinion on HBOs Watchmen is noticeably divided. Critics applaud Watchmenfor the artistic and creative avenues Damon Lindelof travels down. They like how it confronts racism, corruption, and gun control things that are all top of mind in 2019.

So why does the audience think Watchmenis 50% worse than the average critic?

Ever since press releases came out forWatchmen, a chunk of Alan Moore loyalists have canned responses to why the HBO sequel is a disgrace. They say things like:

Theres a reason Alan Moore didnt put his name on this project. The movie was horrible. So why bother with another lame attempt? The comic was very specific to when it came out in 1986what makes you think it can be adapted today?

These people think the comic book is perfect as it is. They dont want any prequels, sequels, adaptations, continuations, or remixes. Theyre somewhat right. Why didnt Lindelof just make his own show, with everything but the baby squids, Rorschach masks, and Robert Redford?

Watchmenis a complicated comic. Morally messy, symbolic, and political, its the kind of literature that leaves a lasting impression on readers whether they love it or hate it.

Watchmen series creator Lindelof is a loyalist to the comic book, and hes directing the show from that perspective. He tries to fill in the gaps for people who havent read the comic. There are newspaper headlines like Adrian Veidt Confirmed Dead. Theres tributes to Richard Nixon in classrooms and trailer parks. Theres ads for a TV show about Americas first vigilantes like Hooded Justice and Silk Spectre. Its established early on that Vietnam is a state.

But these clues come in quick flashes on the screen. Without reading Watchmen before watching Watchmen, the average viewer is walking into a surprise party where everyone in the room is naked. The show (like the comic) is too surreal or too subtle for their taste.

The most significant group of people who dont like Watchmen cant properly debate about political or social issues. These people have extreme political beliefs on opposite sides of the spectrum, yet theyre one-and-the-same.

Both kinds of people in this one group agree that political correctness goes beyond being respectful to marginalized people. But to one side, it means shaming people who have controversial or (as they deem it) unacceptable opinions on social media. To the other side, political correctness is a symptom of an overly-sensitive generation of people, and an unconstitutional constraint on their speech.

These people cant debate about politics. They cant listen and respond to those with different beliefs. Instead, they lose their temper and hijack the conversation.

They cant sympathize with the masked police in Watchmen who have to request permission to use firearms during a life-threatening situation. Or they roll their eyes at how the show has another female protagonist especially a black one.

Watchmen Asks: Is the World Black and White?

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"Watchmen": Some Aren't Ready for THIS "Watchmen" [OPINION] - Bleeding Cool News

When Ed Morrissey wrote about the story of seven-year-old James Younger in Texas, the outrage among readers was immediate and palpable. Thats completely understandable, given the circumstances. A jury recently decided against his father, Jeffrey Younger, in his attempt to gain custody of his twin sons to prevent their mother from transitioning James into a girl. This would be done through a process of administering dangerous puberty-blocking drugs, female hormones and eventual chemical castration. The story made national headlines and people were up in arms.

The judge in the case has postponed the final ruling and perhaps there is still hope for James. Governor Greg Abbott has announced that the state is investigating the case, hopefully as potential child abuse. (Washington Examiner)

Republican Texas Gov. Greg Abbott said that two government departments are investigating after a jury returned a verdict against Jeffrey Younger, who was petitioning for full custody of his son, in part to avoid his ex-wifes plan to infuse him with puberty-blocking hormones.

Abbott waded into the controversy surrounding Mondays verdict, which gave Anne Georgulas sole custody of James and his twin brother, Jude. Georgulas, who has been telling her son he was a girl since he was 3, supports giving hormones that would block his adolescence. She also wants the court to mandate that the boys father call James Luna.

FYI the matter of 7 year old James Younger is being looked into by the Texas Attorney Generals Office and the Texas Department of Family and Protective Services, Abbott said on Twitter Wednesday night.

Launching an investigation is one thing, but the state will need to act quickly. If the jurys verdict is allowed to stand and the father is denied his parental rights, young James could be off to whatever deranged doctor the mother is working with before anyone is the wiser. If theres ever been a case crying out for intervention by child protective services, its certainly this one.

The doctor should be investigated as well. The medical profession has succumbed to some form of mass hysteria over the past few years, driven by political correctness more than science. If the AMA wont step in on this matter then some form of legal remedy should be sought in Congress.

While I dread saying this aloud, this case may turn out to be precisely what the nation needs. James Younger is still in jeopardy and we dont yet know if he can legally be rescued, but an important issue is finally being brought to light at the national level. How any civilized human being can hear this story and not be outraged is beyond belief and this unfolding tragedy may be what it takes to finally spur Congress to action.

This childs unbalanced mother began telling him he was a girl at the age of three. Allow me to emphasize that. The child was three years old. How on Earth is any three-year-old child possibly mature enough to start making decisions about things like gender? Most teenagers struggle with issues of puberty and sexuality. And at only seven years of age, the mother is preparing to have her son filled up with unnatural hormones and puberty-blocking drugs, followed by chemical castration that can never be undone. By the time the boy is old enough to actually become interested in sex, he will be permanently sterile and likely unable to engage in sexual activity.

And all of this would be allowed to happen under the hands of a licensed medical professional. The woke brigade and the trans mafia have managed to throw centuries of progress in medical science out the window and turn some doctors offices into the Island of Dr. Moreau.

These practices need to be outlawed nationally. What adults choose to do to their own bodies is up to them, even if they wish to permanently mutilate themselves. But the government has an obligation to protect children who are unable to provide informed consent for such horror shows.

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Texas investigating mom turning 7 year old boy into a girl - Hot Air