What a week, huh?  A horrible tragedy in Haiti, (as if Haitians needed any further misery in their lives), the too-close-to-call race for Ted Kennedy’s Senate seat in Massachusetts, (wouldn’t that be the epitome of irony if his seat is the one to stop health care reform?), reports of huge bank profits, (and the bonuses that accompany them), Tiger in sex addiction rehab, and, of course, NBC’s Leno-O’Brien reality show.

It didn’t take a natural disaster to point out the near total absence of quality of life in Haiti, but perhaps it will broaden the peripheral vision of the global community so that an emergence from today’s rubble holds some promise other than simply returning to yesterday’s.  Although I question the wisdom of putting W’s face on the US relief effort, perhaps it will serve as a reminder that we have not yet finished our relief for the victims of Katrina, (right, George?).

I don’t know much about Coakley or Brown, and not being from Massachusetts, it would seem like their Senate race doesn’t have much to do with me or anyone else outside of the district in contention.  Au contraire!  The bastion of Democratic certainty that is being so hotly challenged is the clearest message of how contentious our politics have become, and how fragile the hope, that bloomed from Obama’s election, is of completely unraveling.  I will be chanting, holding my breath, twirling my worry beads and burning tea bags in effigy on Tuesday; not because I am a Democrat, (which I am); not because I believe Coakley is the better candidate, (I really don’t know); and not because any of those things give me comfort, (well, maybe the tea bag deal).  But after ninety-six months of political hopelessness, fourteen has not been enough of a reprise.  Come on, you Massachusans!  Just because The Boston Tea Party and The Tea Baggers both have the word ‘tea’ in them, doesn’t speak to their parallel patriotism.  Elect Coakley, if merely out of the well-earned respect of the late Ted Kennedy.

When all the big banks were getting ready to collapse, we were told that we needed to bail them out because they were “too big to fail” and that the economy would never recover.  So, we bailed them out, (of their self-inflicted meltdown), imposed no penalties or restrictions, watched them make record profits and grow even larger than before.  I only have this to say to whomever is in charge over in that government place or office or whateverthefuck group of circus clowns is making recommendations for financial reforms…You are all STUPID!  And if Barack is on board with you’re stupid ideas, well…he’s stupid too, and I do not feel compelled to buy anyone a beer.  Taxing the banks may be part of what’s needed, but that alone will only trickle up the pain of business loans and credit card use.  Fairness is what’s needed!  As a  taxpayer, (and therefor one of the bailers), I demand that regulations be imposed to release the banks strangle hold on everything from the fluctuating costs of all goods and services to the buying and selling of the legislative process at every level of government.  And if you can wrap your heads around that concept, maybe you can dive right into the weirdness of already highly paid employees, (unlike nearly unsalaried waitresses or cabbies), working for tips.

I love watching Tiger Woods play golf and I don’t really care how many prostitutes he’s been with except for how hurtful the revelation has been to his family and potentially to his ability to continue the good work he’s done off of the course.  It’s been reported that he’s holed up in sex addiction rehab, (is there a David Duchovny Center?), getting his freak off, I guess, in immersion therapy, studying the illustrated chart of all of the places not to sink your putz.  Good luck with that.

Jay Leno was not funny at 11:35pm, (scientifically deduced from my watching him for five minutes on two separate occasions and neither giggling nor even smiling), and less funny at 10pm, (though I never watched him at all at this hour…10pm is just not very funny).  Conan is a strangely funny man, (especially if you chuckle whenever you hear the word, underpants), whose true audience seems to come alive after midnight.  The only reason I care about any of this, (I always watch Letterman if I’m still awake), is how it will effect my pals in the Conan band who chose to transplant themselves to LA.  If that goofy looking Zucker guy is responsible for this particular cluster-intercourse, (I’ve been asked to tone down my profanity when inappropriate), he should probably be seeking new employment, unless, of course, he was instrumental in the development and scheduling of Modern Family, in which case, I give him a pass.