(In over 14 years of writing Out Of My Mind, J. Michael has never taken a break, so he decided to appropriate some time off. Don’t know when he will return, but until he does we’ll feast off the carcasses of some of his old columns  So … from the archives we bring you a little gem from 11 years ago featuring our first black president Bill “Slick Willie” Clinton, as per Brer Rabbit, fresh off the heels of his victories over Newt Gingrich and Kenneth Starr and coping with Monica and Hillary. Good times, good times. This column originally ran on February 26, 1999, and although we didn’t know how the story would end at the time, we do now.)

Uncle Remus rooted through first one pocket and then another until he found enough crumbs of tobacco to fill his clay pipe. He plucked a lit twig from the fire and used it to light the tobacco, then nudged a two-pound yam roasting in the ashes with the toe of his old brogan shoe. The little boy sat perfectly quiet. After huffing once or twice on the pipe, the old man continued his story …

“Here come Brer Willie pacin’ down the road ~ lippity-clippity, clippity-lippity ~ jes as sassy as a jaybird. He done left Brer Kenneth stuck in the briar patch and Brer Newt without his fine bushy tail, and he be so full of hisself he be about to bust. So he swishin’ along whistlin’ zippity-do-dah when he spied the Tar-Baby sitting there side of the road. Ol’ Brer Willie fotch up on his behind legs and act real cool.

“‘Whoa, now, girl,’ he say with a wink. ‘What’s such a fine young thang like you doing in such a funky neighborhood like ‘iss here?’

“But Tar-Baby, she ain’t saying nothing, jes sit there.

“‘S’up, girl? Why you jes sitting there lookin’ at me way you is? I done said how-do. You ain’t gwine to answer me?’

“Tar-Baby, she ain’t saying nothing, jes sit there.

“Undaunted, Brer Willie say. ‘Is you bein’ coy? I bet you shy, ain’t you?’

“But Tar-Baby ain’t saying nothing, jes sit there.

“Brer Willie cock his hip and scowl, ‘No ~ I think you jes stuck up, that’s what you is. Well, Slick Willie got jes the cure for that. I gwine to give you a little kiss right there on your sweet cheek.’

“Tar-Baby, she ain’t saying nothing, jes sit there.

“So ol’ Brer Willie lean in close and kiss the thing on the cheek and blip! that’s where he broke his molasses jug. His mouth stuck and he couldn’t pull a’loose. The tar held him hard and fast.

“‘Oh,’ say Brer Willie through his stuck mouth, ‘you mo the feisty type, huh?’ Then he wrap boaf his legs ‘round the Tar-Baby and his legs is stuck. Then he roll her cranksided and got stuck worser. Then he butt his head and his head be stuck. Pret’ soon, Brer Willie be so wrapped up wopsided in that tar that he couldn’t but jes lay there straining like a crawdaddy in the Georgia mud.

“Well, weren’t no time till here come Miss Hill’ry a’hippity-hopping along the trail. She come up on Brer Willie laying there all wadded up in the tar and say, ‘What in the earth is you think you is doing?’

“‘What it look like I doing, woman?’ say Brer Willie. ‘I doing the work of the American people.’

“‘You better not be playin’ me for a fool, William Jefferson, I ain’t studyin’ no more foolishness from you.’

“‘Now, Miss Hill’ry,’ say Brer Willie with a contrite little smile, ‘it ain’t like that, I jes a little tangled up is all.’

“‘How you get all stuck in that tar on the first place?’

“‘Baby, it ain’t tar and I ain’t all stuck in it and I ain’t did nothin’, so please get some turkentime and wash this tar off me ~ I be in a terrible way.’”

Here Uncle Remus paused and drew the two-pound yam out of the ashes.

“Did Brer Willie get loose from the Tar-Baby?” asked the little boy to whom the story had been told.

“That’s all as far as the story goes,” replied Uncle Remus. “He might have and then again he might not. Some folks say Doc Spinmiester unstuck him and some folks say Doc Spinmiester didn’t. But I hear Miss Sally calling you, so you better run along.”

“What a gyp,” said the little boy running along home. “That’s the dumbest story I ever heard.”

Troops:
There’s an expression, “stay put.”
Who was ever “put” in the first place?  I don’t remember ever being put..  And what kind of word is “put” anyway?  It’s silly.  As silly as “pudding.”

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Time Saver

What can be asserted without proof can be dismissed without proof.
- Christopher Hitchens

I later learned this was an old Latin adage: “Quod gratis asseritur, gratis negatur.”  Don’t you feel better knowing the original Latin?  I know I do.
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Fortune Cookie Wisdom
Crack open your fortune cookies and, savor each of these:

• Bastards need to suffer.  It helps them stand themselves.
• The guilt of the quick raises monuments to the dead.
• The idea of sacrifice disguises the hope of saving one’s own skin.
• Morals are the distillate of security operations.
• Humor is a luxury to happiness, a necessary to despair.
• He that is without sadness among you, let him cast the first stone.
• Security is the reciprocal to change.
• Animals should work; the duty of man is pleasure.  Sacrifice is for saints.
• Don’t cry for help.  There is no help.  But give a signal.

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There are no passengers on spaceship earth.  We are all crew. – Marshall McLuhan
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Bumpersticker
Militant Agnostic On Board
I Don’t Know And Neither Do You!
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Dirty Jobs
This clip is about 20 minutes, and it’s worth it.  It’s about the value and valor of manual labor, among other things, including:  maybe you should NOT follow your passion!
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Anon Strikes Again
A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.  A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.  A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn’t.  A man marries a woman hoping she will never change, but she does.  A woman has to have the last word in any argument.  Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.
===============
Religious Significance
I know three Buddhism jokes, and I worry about spending the best one here when I could rock the house in person.  But I love you all too much to withhold it.  Remember me in your prayers.

When the guru and his disciples began their evening meditation, the cat who lived in the monastery was such a nuisance that it distracted them.

So the guru ordered that the cat be put in a closet during the evening practice.

When the guru died, the cat continued to be put in a closet during meditation.

And when the cat eventually died, another cat was brought to the monastery and put in a closet.

Centuries later, learned scholars wrote treatises about the religious significance of putting a cat in a closet for meditation practice.
===============
Parting Shot
A beautiful thing is never perfect. – Egyptian proverb

This is a Big Idea – worthy of some no-cat meditation.  If everyone were perfect…how boring would that be?  It’s the differences among us that make people interesting, conversations worth having…all that.  So don’t complain about other people – unless you absolutely HAVE to.

Which brings to mind this notorious counterpoint:

If you can’t say something nice about someone, sit right here by me. – Alice Roosevelt Longworth

So now where are we?

Don’t worry, because…. um, just don’t.
gh

Talk about earthquakes in divers places … I feel for the folks in Haiti. An oppressed, dirt poor little country without enough trouble, it gets razed to the ground by the trembling planet. Dust to dust, huh? As always, sympathetic Americans will open their wallets and pour millions into the country for humanitarian relief and as always, the money will be stolen by bad guys who already have more than they can spend.

Shoot, they ain’t even spent all the money they stole from Katrina yet.

Speaking of Katrina … a lot of people don’t know this, but George Bush had a satellite in space to control the weather. He used it to create hurricane Katrina and then made it hit New Orleans because George Bush don’t like black people. Well, now all that’s changed. Mighty Barack is president and so the weather satellite belongs to him now. You know that recent cold spell? I think he was practicing.

What’s that? What does “divers places” mean? Aww, that’s just Bible-speak for “diverse places.” You know, like wars and rumors of wars and all that.

The actor Danny Glover said the earthquake was caused because no consensus was reached at the recent climate summit in Copenhagen. Pat Robertson said the earthquake was caused because the Haitian people made a deal with the devil. What do you think? Was it a deal with the devil or was it the climate summit? Because given that choice and no other ~ the climate summit or a deal with the devil ~ discounting who’s  sayin’ what, if I gotta pick a hand, purely as a rhetorical question? I must say, I gotta go with Pat.

I’ll tell you this, though ~ over 200,000 dead, corpses dumped in landfills, covered over and plowed back into the earth, nobody even knowing who they were. If the Haitians did make a deal with the devil, that must’a been some kind of deal. What were they supposed to get out of it? I don’t know, but I’ll tell you this for free … you give the devil a ride, he’s gonna drive. B’lee dat.

I have a pamphlet I keep with me, little thing about three-and-a-half by six-and-a-quarter inches, can fit it in my shirt pocket … 36 pages of text in what looks like maybe a 10-point font. You can pretty much read the whole thing on your lunch break. It’s a little booklet called The Declaration of Independence; the Constitution of the United States, with all 27 Amendments. My point? Well, my point is, if the entire documentation for governmental operations of the greatest, most powerful and most successful nation on earth can be presented in 36 small pages, why is the health care bill almost 2,000 full-size pages? Why is the freakin tax code almost 17,000 pages? Now, don’t strain yourself. The question is purely rhetorical because I can already tell you why ~ it’s because government is filthy with lawyers. On top of that, those lawyers have staffs that include dozens more lawyers. And lawyers can’t say anything in two words if they can say it in forty. They write voluminous things in lawyer-speak and those things become law. So that’s why.

You know, I don’t care what party it is, 46 years in the U.S. Senate is a pretty good argument for term limits.

If we had any commonsense or altruism, we’d sit down and take a look at what works on the Democrat side and what works on the Republican side. We been doing this for 214 years, maybe it’s time to look back and just see which ideas worked and which didn’t and then pick the ones that work, regardless of party. Yeah, I know … and if monkeys could fly, we’d all be covered in monkey poop, so never mind.

Or, in the words of Toxo the intelligent supervirus, “You puny humans are so stupid, you are attracted to anything that is damaging to you.”

He’s a supervirus but he’s intelligent.

Unlike this next guy …

And I Quote: “I tell you what, if I lived in Massachusetts I’d try to vote ten times. I don’t know if they’d let me or not, but I’d try to. Yeah, that’s right. I’d cheat to keep these bastards out. I would. ‘Cause that’s exactly what they are.” ~ Ed Schultz, MSNBC pundit, commenting on the special election to fill “Ted Kennedy’s Senate seat”

Bastards? So what you’re saying, Ed, is none of “them” have mothers? What, were they hatched from a stem cell on some propaganda farm like you were? C’mon, Ed, I’m just cracking on ya, bruh. The end justifies the means, I know that. I’m a smart guy, too. Relax.

And yes, the joy you feel thinking about those lying Democrats being thrown out of office in November will fade away as you realize they will be replaced by those lying Republicans.

You know, this is off the subject, but when I write my column I never use the same word twice. You ever notice that? Never use the same word twice. Go back and look through all my stuff going all the way back to ’96 if you want to, you’ll never see the same word used more than once. I knew when I first started out I would need a gimmick, a hook to make me unique from other writers, make me stand out. So I decided my gimmick would be to never re-use a word. Pretty good, huh? And I’m still going strong.

Troops:

Jon Oliver, in a Daily Show segment about the right wing’s lament that we’re “losing our country,” came up with an insight that rocked me to my socks, partly because it’s so damned obvious – once you see it.

We used to live in a simpler time.  Right?

Almost everyone [not just right wingers] laments: “When I was growing up, it used to be like…FILL IN THE BLANK.  But nowadays….”  We all do this.

But the right wing is escalating this commonplace nostalgia to a toxic attack, in which Obama is, according to Hannity [et al], “literally ripping apart the foundation of the America that we knew and grew up in.” [Actual quote.]

This is making a pathology of nostalgia.

Why were the old days, seemingly in every generation, better?

This is a riddle that has puzzled the best of us – why has it seemed to every generation that we’re sliding down hill to hell?

Famously, Socrates: “Our youth now love luxury. They have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for their elders, and love chatter in places of exercise.  They no longer rise when elders enter the room.  They contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up their food and tyrannize their teachers.”

Please do yourself a favor and watch this brilliant clip BEFORE you read my spoiler [below the link], as Oliver examines the “good old days”. [Glen Beck is priceless!]  [5:46]  Daily Show

The spoiler:  The key phrase [as Oliver points out] is “when I was growing up.”  We were CHILDREN, for God’s sake!  Of COURSE the world was simpler and golden and uncomplicated in the “old days.”  We were children, with no care in the world [relative to adulthood].  Wow – or should I say, Duh.

=================

Obama, Personally

Conservatives have real policy disagreements with libs [taxes, unions, states' rights], or delusional issues [FEMA is building concentration camps], or actual outright fabrications [Obama was born in Nigeria, he's a Muslim, he proposed death panels, health care will cover illegals... ]  [Though it should!!  If you or I fell sick in Europe, we'd be cared for... a discussion for another day.]

But let’s narrow the focus to the absurd things for which the conservatives have mocked or criticized Obama as a person.

- his “celebrity,” his “elitism,” his “cosmopolitan” style [during the campaign]  [he had the effrontery to be educated. he was at the top of his class, while McCain was at the bottom.  uppity.]

- they actually mocked his background as a community organizer

- unpatriotic: doesn’t wear a flag pin

- he spoke on a stage with columns = it’s the “temple of Obama”

- unpatriotic:  he didn’t visit the wounded troops in Iraq;  oh wait, he did?  then he’s using the troops as a backdrop for PR purposes

- he uses a teleprompter  [this is the one that fries me]

- speaking to schoolchildren about studying and doing well in school [same thing as communist indoctrination, as in North Korea.]

- “dithering” for 3 weeks on Afghanistan strategy [the Bush admin dithered a mere 7 years]

- “censoring” Fox News

- proposing to try the Nigerian suspect in a U.S. court [as Bush successfully did with shoe-bomber Richard Reid.]

[OK, some of these were not strictly personal, but REALLY!]

If I’ve missed any, send them along.

======================

On the Flight

This is a first-hand account of what it was like to be on the flight with the Nigerian underpants bomber.  It is long, but good. Huffington Post

========================

The UK Desk

There is a critically acclaimed sitcom, The Office, and, try as I might, I’ve never been able to get on board with it.  Just can’t get its rhythms or viewpoint or whatever.  I find it downright annoying.  But I knew it was a US adaptation of a British original, written/directed by, and starring Rickie Gervais [Paul et al - he's my Eddie Izzard], so I thought I’d give the original a shot, and I LOVED it.  Gervais makes himself the butt of most of the jokes [he said in an interview with Jon, "before someone else does."]  He’s a master of wincing, uncomfortable humor.  If you have Instant View in Netflix, here is Series 1:  The Office

Not everyone’s cuppa, I’m sure, but he suits me to a tea.

===================

An idea I’ve been seeing in the blogosphere that may have merit:  move your money.  Break up the banks

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From Harper’s Index

Percentage change since President Obama’s inauguration in the number of U.S. troops in Iraq:  -16

Percentage change in the number of armed private contractors working for the United States there:  +52

Ratio of journalists to delegates among registered attendees at this fall’s G20 meeting in Pittsburgh:  5:1

Ratio of Katie Couric’s salary to the total operating expenses of NPR’s 17 foreign bureaus:  3:2

====================

Is man one of God’s blunders or is God one of man’s? – Nietzsche

Oh, and look who goes to jail:  the guy who exposes a massive tax fraud:  Whistle blower

Ta ta, y’all

gh

Welcome to Out Of My Mind ~ the column that’s not afraid to ask, “You talkin to me? Are you talkin to me? Well, I don’t see nobody else around, you must be talkin to me. Are you talkin to me?”

They’re calling this the coldest winter in over 25 years. Snowstorm in Vermont set an all-time record, midwest freezing with temperatures in Iowa reaching 30 below. People freezing to death in Detroit when their power was cut off, Miami the coldest it’s been in decades, Florida governor signing an emergency order for relief. Gas supplies in Briton running out, old people there burning books to stay warm, called out the armed forces to help rescue 1,000 stranded motorists trapped in the snow. Seoul, Korea buried under the heaviest snow in over 70 years and China rationing power. I don’t know, but if global warming gets any worse, AlGore, we’re all gonna freeze to death. AlGore, I say, we’re all gonna freeze to death.

No, seriously, it’s so cold that politicians are walking around with their hands in their own pockets. Bada-BING!

I read where the Chicago police department wants to scrap entrance exams for minorities in order to get more people of color on the force. Also, they’re going to count all the hours spent handcuffed in the backseat of a police car as law enforcement experience. Hey, peeps, all I know is what I see on Cops, bad boy, bad boy.

… what’cho gonna dooo?

For my new  year’s resolution, I’m swearing off ascots. I like em, like em a lot and I look good in em, too, but an ascot changes me, changes my behavior. I get a little too full of myself, start trying to live above my station, like I’m a college professor or a lawyer or something. Same thing happens when I wear a turban. Lord, I wear an ascot and a turban together, forget about it, I’m drinking cognac, smoking Turkish cigarettes through a foot-long ivory cigarette holder, spider monkey on my shoulder. It’s fun but it’s not me. So, even though there’s a part of me that hates doing it, I think the best thing for me to do is stay away from ascots and turbans. But as God is my witness, you can have my tinfoil hat when you pry it off my cold dead head.

… cold dead head. Say that three times real fast. Now say it again. Now one more time. Good. Now go in the kitchen and get me a Coke.

Remember those x-ray glasses you used to could order from the back of a comic book that could see through clothes? Remember how they never worked? Well, they finally perfected em ~ the new airport scanners. Stand behind one, you might as well be butt naked. Things can see your junk through 20 pounds of overcoats, I kid you not. That’s the way the x-ray glasses were supposed to work. The airport scanners are there to help identify terrorists. But I’ll tell you, you get a cute woman up there where you can see through her clothes and it’s just guys working the scanner, al-Qaeda could ride a freakin camel onboard the plane, nobody’s gonna notice.

You know, I see a day when everybody will just strip down naked when they enter an airport. Board your flight, take off, land, disembark, collect your clothes at baggage pick-up, get dressed and you’re on your way. Don’t know what that has to do with terrorism, but it would be a heck of a thing.

And I Quote: “Let me buy a (security) pass … so that they can scan me and search me and measure my penis, then let me get on the plane.” ~ Democrat pundit James Carville

Yeah, James, cause evidently those scanners come equipped with microscopes. But have you ever seen James Carville? That’s kinda what that looks like coming out of his collar. Talk about a dickhead.

I been arguing with this guy about who the United States belongs to. Egghead college professor. He’s trying to tell me that it was Russian and Asiatic Slavs migrating across the Bering Strait from the north that originally populated North America and how the Mexicans took southern California and Texas away from the American Indians by force and all that. And I’m trying to tell him, dude, it doesn’t matter cause now it belongs to us, free and clear, bought and paid for with our sweat and blood and a bagful of colored glass beads. It’s ours now.

At least for a while.

And did you know, Herr Hofdingle (and I’d be amazed if you did), that on the Lewis and Clark expedition, of all the animals they ate (elk, bear, deer, salmon, dog, buffalo) that Louis’ favorite meat was dog? Clark, on the other hand, was partial to Jack-In-The-Box double cheeseburgers. Which, now that I think about it, the only difference between the two is the cheese. (Yes? No? Am I trying too hard?)

But you know, I read where a turtle can breathe through its butt. I find that  strange and unnecessary, even for a turtle.

Something’s been on my mind for awhile. Elvis had a twin brother that didn’t live. His twin brother’s name was Jesse Garon Presley. Jesse was delivered stillborn minutes before Elvis was born. But see, here’s what’s been troubling me … how do we know that wasn’t Elvis that died and Jesse was the one who lived? What if Jesse took Elvis’ name because it sounded so much cooler than Jesse Presley and he knew nobody named Jesse Presley could ever be the king of rock n roll. All those Elvis impersonators could really be Jesse impersonators and them not even know it. I wonder a lot about that.

(In addition to not eating meat, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals [PETA] now say people shouldn’t eat fish either. They launched a new campaign called the “Fish Empathy Project” to raise awareness regarding the cruel and inhumane conditions at the nation’s fish slaughterhouses. You know, I used to do pretty goods interviews when I was an investigative reporter and I’ve been kind of missing it, so I decided it would be fun to do an interview with PETA about the fish empathy. I contacted their headquarters and spoke with one P. Q. McGurkin-Tinfoil, the director of PETA’s Vegan Outreach Ministries)

JML:  Thank you for taking time to do this interview, Mrs. McGurkin-Tinfoil, I know you’re busy. Is it Mrs. McGurkin-Tinfoil or Miss?

McG-TF:  Actually, it’s Mr.

JML:  I knew that. Sorry. Why don’t you tell us about the Fish Empathy Project …

McG-TF:  It’s very exciting. Our motto is, “We shine the light of truth into the black darkness of that which is not truth.” I came up with that myself.

JML:  I gotta say, Mrs. McGur — I mean, Mr. McGurkin-Tinfoil … as mottos go, it’s not bad. Just the right amount of piety to make it maudlin.

McG-TF:  Thank you.

JML:  You’re in charge of PETA’s Vegan Outreach Ministries. What exactly does that word mean, “vegan”? I always thought a Vegan was an alien from another solar system.

McG-TF:  Uh, no. Vegan is just a pretentious way of saying “vegetarian.” You must remember ~ extreme liberal activists strive to be pretentious in all things. Always. First and foremost. For that is the Law. Are we not men?

JML:  I know I sure am. Tell us how this whole fish sympathy thing came about?

McG-TF:  It’s empathy, not sympathy.

JML:  What?

McG-TF:  You said fish sympathy. It’s fish empathy.

JML:  Sorry. Musta been a Freudian slip.

McG-TF:  Fish do not need, nor do they want, our pity.

JML:  Yeah, I get it, sorry. Tell us how this whole fish empathy thing came about?

McG-TF:  We launched the Fish Empathy Project because, as you may know, fish are  delicious, whether fried, grilled, sautéed or broiled. And since we at PETA won’t allow ourselves to eat meat, it pretty much burns our britches that other people get to and we have taken it upon ourselves to stop them.

JML:  Mr. McGurkin-Tinfoil, I must say, I admire you’re candor.

McG-TF:  I’m not going to lie. But people don’t have to eat fish when there are so many alternatives … tofu, veggie burgers, boiled cardboard, Styrofoam. These are all perfectly acceptable and tasteless alternatives. What we hope to do with the Fish Empathy Project is call attention to the slaughterhouse abuse of our finned and gilled brethren who dwell beneath the waves.

JML:  Abuse in the fish slaughterhouses?

McG-TF:  That’s correct. History will look back on this time as the Fish Holocaust.

JML:  That’s pretty dramatic.

McG-TF:  It’s fish genocide. Genocide by cannibalism.

JML:  Yeah, well, but it wouldn’t be cannibalism, though, unless the fish were eating each other, right?

McG-TF:  Now you sound like a fish bigot. Would it surprise you to learn that fish are intelligent, sensitive and complex living creatures that can do all sorts of amazing things. They swim, they breath underwater, they swim.

JML:  The American Heart Association recommends that people eat fish in order to stay healthy.

McG-TF:  The American Heart Association is irrelevant in the modern age. Many of the practices they once recommended have been completely discredited and debunked by science. They used to recommend treating illnesses with leeches and bleeding people to treat anemia. They are totally indifferent to fish suffering. Why don’t they recommend eating dog at every meal? What would they say if somebody stuck a fishhook through a dog’s jaw? Dogs may be man’s best friend, but that’s only because fish won’t fetch.

JML:  It’s not the same thing. Fish don’t feel pain.

McG-TF:  How about we stick a fishhook through your jaw, see if you feel pain.

JML:  But I’m not a fish.

McG-TF:  Not yet, maybe. But who knows where evolution will eventually lead?

JML:  Wow. You think mankind will evolve into some kind of fish?

McG-TF:  I said, who knows. Look, if only people would take time to get to know a fish, they would see that they are interesting, fascinating individuals. And smart as a whip. You know, the blind Mexican cave fish can picture detailed mental maps of its surroundings by interpreting water pressure changes.

JML:  Wow, that’s like Matt Murdock.

McG-TF:  Who?

JML:  Matt Murdock. Daredevil. He’s a superhero. He’s blind but his other senses are highly developed.

McG-TF:  Fish are not comic book characters, sir. Their cognitive powers match or exceed those of “higher” primates. The North Sea haddock is so smart it’s learned to recognize and avoid a trawler’s net. And don’t even get me started on the dolphins. It could be argued that dolphins are smarter than people.

JML:  Dolphins aren’t fish, they’re mammals.

McG-TF:  Same difference. They live in the water.

JML:  A final question ~ PETA spends so much time and money advocating for helpless animals … what about unborn babies? They’re the most helpless of all, right?

McG-TF:  Hey, it’s like you said … babies aren’t fish, they’re mammals.

JML:  That’s convoluted logic.

McG-TF:  Thank you. I learned that at Berkeley.

JML:  Okay, that about wraps it up. Thank you, Mr. McGurkin-Tinfoil. I think this may have been my best interview ever. Good luck and keep shining the light of truth into the black darkness of that which is not truth.

McG-TF:  Oh, that we shall. Indeed, that we shall.