The Eagles, at last, get it together and pull the Cowboys apart

They say the divide between winning and losing usually is microscopic rather than gaping.
They were wrong. At least concerning what transpired at the Linc Sunday night.
The Eagles did more than hose the dreaded Cowboys. They crucified them. It was the biggest mismatch since Hitler took out Poland.
Apparently not only did we canonize the Eagles too early this season, we buried them too early as well.
The Once Upon A Time Dream Team evidently didn’t totally implode after its 1-4 start, and their self-inflicted wounds seemingly won’t forever follow them this season, shadows growing longer with each setting sun.
The Birds left the Cowboys naked with nowhere to hide, strip-searching them every which way but loose in a 34-7 Prime Time Destruction so awesome to behold that Merrill Reese’s tonsils were vibrating like violin strings and Andy Reid’s belly was quivering like a bowlful of jelly.

Suddenly we didn’t need to know the metric system to count all the Eagles’ turnovers. Suddenly they weren’t sloppier than a truck-stop waitress, they weren’t tackling like arthritic grasshoppers, and their schemes didn’t have more holes than Swiss cheese.

Shady McCoy shredded Dallas for 185 yards and two touchdowns and Michael Vick was sharper than a stick in the eye in targeting 21 of 28 for 279 yards and two TDs. All of which shut up Rob Ryan.

And defensively the Eagles were more dominant than a dominatrix, finally getting a terrorist pass rush in sync with suffocating coverage.

Indeed, the Eagles Sunday were more surreal than an October snowstorm around here. Who would have thunk it?

Romney may be clueless about climate change, but we sure won't be if we experience just another typical October blizzard in Berks

Mitt Romney is wearing his flip-flops again.
He used to think there was something to climate change and that emissions of pollutants and greenhouse gases weren’t cool.
Now he thinks we have no clue what’s causing climate change so let’s treat emissions like relatives we don’t like and simply ignore them.
Actually, Romney should ditch the flip-flops in favor of preppy tennis shoes since he’s constantly running backward from previous pronouncements.
The guy just spews luminous logic.
What brings this up today?
Because suddenly here in good ol’ Greater Reading PA we evidently are getting a rare October snowstorm this weekend that will topple power lines and trees like they were bowling pins at Berks Lanes.
How rare would that be in these parts? Try like the first time ever. Colorado this ain’t. We ain’t used to getting buried in snow like Napoleon in Russia, at least not in October.
I don’t know if all this shall come to pass, but already it’s about as warm as Rushmore granite outside. And we already know how much precip we’ve been getting lately. Ducks have been quacking and swimming down Penn Street and I’m not talking about the folks streaming out of Maria’s.
Now our trees could turn into icicles. Autumn leaves around here were meant to be pretty and then plummet to earth so Berks Countians could spend their weekends raking leaves and kicking themselves for not outsourcing the job to illegal aliens. Now we may have to hire them to help remove oak trees from our living rooms.

Economic doomsday takes a Ferris Bueller day off

The crystal chandeliers will twinkle in lamplights tonight.

White orchids will spill from dining table vases in breathtaking profusion.

We will be suffused with the sounds of privilege, the delicate clink of silver spoons against fine porcelain.

It’s time for the gilded opulence of luxury.

We’re suddenly flush because stocks around the world shot up sharply today as investors went on a risk-taking binge after Europe finally sealed a long-awaited deal to stem its debt crisis.

The Dow Jones industrial average rocketed up 340 points, a gain of 2.9%, as the S&P 500 closed up 3.4% and the Nasdaq gained 3.3%.

The plan was cheered by Wall Street because it greatly reduces the odds of a financial meltdown in Europe that could spread and infect other economies, such as the U.S. and China. And it bodes well for risky financial assets like stocks going forward, according to analysts taking a break from Googling Lindsay Lohan.

The good news out of Europe coincided with better economic news out of the U.S. The government reported today that gross domestic product grew at a 2.5% rate in the third quarter, an improvement on the second quarter’s 1.3% rate. That growth is just the latest economic data that suggests a double-dip recession is not going to occur.

Indeed, the S&P 500 index is close to having its best month since 1974.

As Whitey Ashburn used to say to Harry Kalas, “Hard to believe, Harry.”

The dough has been rolling in like a tsunami for the flush 1 percenters the past 30 years

Apparently we won’t find the richest 1 percent of Americans squatting on Penn Street while holding tin cups anytime soon.
A new report by the Congressional Budget Office today reveals that the Fab 1 percenters’ after-tax income increased 275 percent in the past 30 years, compared with a 65 percent increase for the top 20 percent and an 18 percent growth in income for the poorest fifth of the population.
The report blames the widening income gap on the decline in government action to redistribute wealth, an unprecedented increase in executive compensation and the Kardashians.
I say bully for the top 1 percenters. They followed Woody Allen’s script to take the money and run. They followed Donna Summer’s lyrics and worked hard for the money.
Meanwhile, what did the rest of us poor blokes do? OK, maybe we did punch a clock and the occasional drifter.
But it’s likely most of us still found plenty of time to teach our dogs new card tricks, excavate our nostrils while stopped at red lights, spend hours picturing what Chris Christie and Ann Coulter look like in thongs, and wonder why Somalians seldom wear Vera Wang — time we could have better spent working second and third jobs in an abestos factory or the Fritz Island sewer facility.
Granted, the sweat of your brow isn’t the cash machine it once was. Status trumps work ethic every time. It’s scripture that money begets money. In fact, it’s at the top of the long list of begats in the Bible. You can look it up.

According to Rick Perry and Herman Cain, the world is flat

The world ain’t flat and neither should the tax rate.

What’s with Republican candidates who screech and preach for regressive flat tax rates that are Halloween costumes translating into massive tax breaks for the rich?

Presidential candidates should be above playing trick or treat … a trick on the middle class and a treat for the wealthy.

Scary indeed.

Rick Perry, you remember him, claimed today that he’ll somehow balance the budget by 2020 with a flat tax of 20 percent the centerpiece of his economic voodoo.

Such an economic plan would deal out more punishment to Mr. and Mrs. America than Manny Pacquiao. It would leave the masses buy-a-vowel drunk with despair.

Then again, what do you expect from a guy who wants to rekindle the dying embers of the Obama birther issue nonsense?

Of course, you know all about Godfather pizza guru Herman Cain, who now — strangely — is the frontrunner. Tells you all you need to know about the Republican mindset. His absurd 9-9-9 tax plan also is regressive and a boon to the money people.

Perry and Cain are disciples of Steve Forbes, whose presidential bids flat-lined in 1996 and 2000 when middle-income voters realized his flat tax would cut taxes on the wealthy and raise them on those with modest incomes.

We can only hope that Americans wise up once again or we’re gonna get stung as if we have a desk in the center cubicle at American Bee, Inc.

What has happened to Republicans in recent years? They used to be smart people. Now they just play with tax gimmicks. Perhaps they attended too many Tea Parties.

The GOP once backed affirmative uses of government to create land-grant colleges, the interstate highway system, student loans, the Pure Food and Drug Act, a prescription drug benefit under Medicare, the EPA and OSHA. Richard Nixon himself signed the latter two into law and he actually was sober at the time.

Republicans now reject their own traditions and the idea that government can do any good at all. They think of government as Big Brother. But George Orwell is dead and so is 1984.

The GOP one-note mantra is that if government takes less money away from the wealthy, Paradise Lost will be miraculously found as if a seemingly Kumbaya flat tax rate is a beachcomber with a metal detector for silver linings.

Hogwash. All it will do is cause Tylenol sales to spike and tempt all of us to stab two fondue forks deep into our ears and stir.

If this nightmare transpires, we all will need a telethon. Hope the wealthy, ever more opulent because of all their tax breaks, are in a giving mood.

Forget about all those classic powder blue Thunderbirds and bronze Corvette Stingrays. Cars no longer are cool. Automakers need to get it in gear and halt the cookie cutter car assembly line

I parked on a piece by Julia Felsenthal on Slate this afternoon that caught my attention like a thrown engine rod to the groin.

Why are car paint colors today so utterly boring? C’mon, man. Does every car have to be either white, silver or black? Are all car designers now afflicted with cataracts on their visual imagination?

Is this something else that the Obama administration screwed up? Why isn’t the Own The Streets gaggle babbling about this outrage?

Is this all a plot to discourage drunk driving? After all, if you tie a load on at your favorite watering hole, no way your alcohol-soaked eyeballs are gonna find your silver car in a sea of silver cars.

Then again, having all cars look alike has to be putting highway drivers to sleep. Drowsy truck drivers are drinking high-octane coffee by the gallons, followed by energy drink chasers.

It’s enough to make you stay home and chew on the juniper bush in your backyard.

Whatever happened to vivid, vibrant and vivacious car paint colors like pea green, blood orange, tangerine, poppy red and electric teal? Now those were colors that even Mr. Magoo could see!

Cars back then weren’t bland. And neither were their drivers.

President Obama formally ends the war in Iraq by the end of 2011. Candidate Obama informally rejoices over receiving such a grand political gift for 2012

OK, perhaps it was politically motivated because every once in a while it’s sort of important for an incumbent running for reelection to fulfill a promise made in all the heated bluster of a campaign.

No matter that President Obama felt compelled to honor his 2008 vow to end the war in Iraq or further spike his chances of soon collecting unemployment. At least he’s finally ending the war, even if it’s more overdue than my need to regrout the guest bathtub.

With the economy still swirling down the drain and the art of job creation missing longer than Judge Crater, the president needs a boost among those who no longer dig his shtick. So he announced today that he will pull all U.S. troops out of Iraq by the end of the year.
So at least we’re inching toward the end of a lugubrious war that seemed to last forever. When it comes to the cavalcade of lost lives and lost treasure that are tethered to war, nearly nine years can feel as long as 90 years. Life gallops by everywhere else but in wartime it saunters at a clippity-clop pace. The unforgiving winds of war cut like a double-edged axe.
Of course, it’s clear that Obama has no credibility among many active participants in this blog’s threads. So even if I knit something favorable about Obama, it totally unravels before the eyes of those blinded by their obsession to remove him from the fabric of power and therefore see no good, hear no good and speak no good regarding Obama no matter what.
Nevertheless, I am compelled to say that some of the president’s words resonated with me today.
Obama said the end of U.S. involvement in Iraq reflects a larger transition away from “the tide of war.” He referenced the fact that troops are beginning to return home from Afghanistan and said that trend will only continue as the U.S. refocuses on its needs at home.
“After a decade of war, the nation we need to build and the nation we will build is our own,” he said.
Amen! Praise the Lord but don’t pass the ammunition!
Uncle Sam’s pugnacious ventures overseas have vaporized the homeland with concussive hits.
We have to stop standing up for others and allowing the resultant depletion of resources to sit on us as though it were trying out a sample sofa in a furniture showroom.

Gadhafi is killed with with his boots on and his hat off

Moammar Gadhafi already had hit a dead end in Libya. Now he’s just dead.

Gadhafi, who when he wasn’t playing lawn darts ruled Libya with a dictatorial grip for 42 years until he was ousted by rebels in a bloody civil war, was killed today when revolutionary forces overwhelmed his hometown, Sirte, the last major bastion of resistance two months after the regime fell.

Personally, I’m glad this nutball is dead because nobody apparently knew how to spell his name. This has driven media types crazy for years. For instance, I say Gadhafi, you say Gaddafi. Others says Gathafi or Kadafi or Gadafy.

And it’s not just his last name that has scholars and journalists more confused than if you dropped them into a gigantic Halloween corn maze. Take his first name. I say Moammar and you say Muammar.

No wonder whatever-his-name was such a weird dude. Actually, I think his name probably was Harry “The Hat” Monster, aka The Mad Hatter.

Yep, not only was this guy a weird dude, he was a bad dude. He evidently was only generous to his haberdasher, who judging by Gadhafi’s bizarre costumes, was equally as insane.

Hangover in Vegas blossoms a killer headache with today's sunrise after last night's GOP Destruction Derby

The Republican presidential candidates are suffering one hellacious hangover today after last night’s holocaust of a debate.

Fight Night in Las Vegas. They should have put this donnybrook on PPV and raised election funds.

Everybody was beating up on Herman Cain, whose simplistic 9-9-9 plan doesn’t add up except for the tax bite that definitely would add up and add up and add up if you’re middle class trending toward serfdom.

Mitt Romney and Rick Perry went at it at hammer and tong, landing enough heavy shots to split a tree. The fact that neither one of their skulls split makes one wonder how thick-headed they are.

It was great entertainment watching the two get so up close and personal, flicking snake tongues at each other — whoo-eet! whoo-eet! Even Ali in his prime didn’t have that fast of a jab.

The collateral damage from this Battle Royal? President Obama won. The incumbent had to be happier than a kid locked up in an ice cream store to watch the Republicans build pyramids of hurt upon one another.

The slugfest left all of them with more lumps than Joe Frazier after the Thrilla in Manila and left Romney looking petty, Perry looking desperate and Cain looking like a guy clinging to his flawed plan as if it were a life preserver (which it’s not).

If all the current contenders continue this barbaric assault, they soon may have to send out for body bags. The attrition rate soon may rival that of the Roman Colosseum, except those guys bled in Latin, not English.

With a damaged Obama ripe for the plucking, seems like a fatal mistake for Republicans to turn to cannibalism.

Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street may party traditional Democrats and Republicans into hung-over has-beens

The two main parties in America used to be the Democrats and Republicans, except for those halcyon nights in the 1960s when Hef was throwing a party at the Playboy Mansion.
Of course, neither the Dems, GOP or Hef are the party animals they used to be.
Now we got the Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street muscling it on the party scene. Party on, Garth!
Granted, some folks already are noticing an overlap between the messages of the Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street. That overlap in a nutshell is that both sides, one coming from the right and the other from the left, think the government sucks. They’re mad as hell and aren’t gonna take it anymore.
That even dawned on Barack Obama today. The president is trying to suck up to Occupy Wall Street, at least from a safe distance since some of the protesters lack personal hygiene skills, in a desperate attempt to tap into its energy to jolt his progressive base back to life.
And now comes word that an activist who helped ignite Egypt’s Facebook revolution is an adviser to Occupy Wall Street.
Man, don’t you all just love a party? Don’t turn out the lights, because these two new parties ain’t over!