Search This Blog

Friday, July 13, 2007

No one ever expects The Spanish Inquisition!

I was raised in the Church of Monty Python, so the contents of this post may well offend some followers of the Bachelors With the Biggest Hats in Rome. Catholics have a great advantage over me. I never have been able to enjoy movies like "The Exorcist" or "The Omen". They just aren't scary or, without gratuitous nudity, even vaguely interesting. I feel cheated.

Now the Big Hat Guys are scaring the poop out of me. The Bachelor with the Biggest Hat is elevating seventy Spanish Fascist priests to sainthood or some sort of post-mortem promotion (I freely admit I am a bit fuzzy on the theology). I was under the impression that mucking about with the fate of dead people is the exclusive bailiwick of the Mormons (no hats, few bachelors, Salt Lake City, underwear fetish).

Not scary in itself, this act of beatification by the former (aren't they all) member of The Hitler Youth, combined with the regression to Latin rites and declaration that all churches, save his, are mistakes gives me pause. Mistakes require correcting. The last time we were correcting theological mistakes it was the infamous Inquisition that administered the remedial burnings at the stake. My Jewish friends (very small hats, neurotic) are especially susceptible to this sort of correction.

All I can ask is that, if you must have a new hundred years war, please leave me out.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

The discrete charm of the Super-Rich

Private Luxury Submarines. Not a joke. Not April 1st. They are real and sneak under the sea by the hundred. Captain Nemo invented the Private Luxury Submarine, and was the first wealthy evil megalomaniac genius on which Dr. No, Ernst Stavro Blofeld, Dr Evil, and all other super villains were modeled.

Now we've got 'em for real.

I would say buying a private luxury submarine is god's way of weeding you out of the gene pool, but most billionaires are past the age of reproduction. Peasants have fish finder sonar technology, boats and access to home made depth charges in the form of reservation fireworks. We could re-enact the Battle of the North Atlantic right here in Puget Sound, with the state ferries playing the convoys and pleasure boats for the escort destroyers. Paul Allen and his sub get to be the German U-Boat threat.

Submarines have traditionally been death traps, not far behind helicopters. If everyone knew what mechanical process had to happen in a specific order to keep a helicopter in the air, nobody in their right mind would ride in one except as an emergency or time of war. One little ring clip cracks, and some poor fireman is going to have to drag your crispy corpse out of the wreckage of that plaything. At least when a gasket fails, chances are nobody will ever find your Private Luxury Submarine.

I submit that the very existence of the Private Luxury Submarine is irrefutable evidence that the top tax rates are far too low. Down Periscope! Brace for marginal rate charges! Open outer torpedo tube doors! Man the CPAs!