Dukes Of Hazzard Rocks

Well, kinda. But I have a reader, she knows who she is, who has loved Dukes of Hazzard since the beginning and has the car horn to prove it. The horn is on the Suburban she uses to cart her brood. Hey, even mothers of five children can have flair, ya'll.

All Good Things Must Come To An End

See, what I meant about the ugly choices? Marrying Rosie O'Donnell can't last long. It's the ending that makes it all worthwhile.

Cross-posted at Right Wing News

Poor Rocco

Rocco knew it. The other competitors knew it. When, Tiger Woods sank that put, rimming it, on the 18th hole of the U.S. Open on Sunday, everyone knew it: Game over. Tiger just won, now it was a formality (of winning 18 more holes and a tie-breaker for good measure.) But, it was over.

What an incredible athlete. What a champion. What a demonstration of mental strength. Don't bet against Tiger. You'll lose.

Cross-posted at Right Wing News

Gary Sinise Supports Our Troops

At least one actor supports the troops and by support, I mean, actually seems to like them and want to honor them.

Prince Caspian: I'm In Love

Move over Legolas, there is another, fairer creature in these sun dappled woods and his name be Prince Caspian (actor Ben Barnes). Yesterday, I went to watch the next installment of Chronicles of Narnia. Good triumphs, evil staggers, and a war decides it. There is faith, hope, death and hubris, but those lessons were all subsumed by the foremost rule of life: Cast an incredibly hot guy with a British (was it Scottish? Irish? it was a bit brogue) accent and the movie is perfect.

Best lines of the movie:

Susan: Who are you?
Prince: I am Prince Caspian.

Yes. You. Are.


Okay, back to the movie. I got the feeling that director Adam Adamson tried to make the movie as non-spiritual as he could. He failed. The material is just too rich in morality. That doesn't mean that Aslan inhabits every scene. To the contrary, Aslan shows up late, thus the consternation of the people trying to save the world. Where does God go when things go bad and why doesn't He always save the day? You'll have to see the movie to get the answers.

If there is a weakness to the movie, it's the screenplay. It was difficult to follow the storyline and the editing seemed choppy in parts. It was saved by the acting and the strength of the plot. It was good verses evil after all, so that was uncomplicated. Why some were bad wasn't quite explained and why the badness was allowed to happen wasn't exactly explained either. I was left wondering if the badness was, in fact, the leaders of Narnia's fault. The question was never answered. Still, the flaws in the story didn't detract from the movie too irritatingly.

The set design enthralls. The effects felt more real and richer this time around. The villains were not caricatures. In fact, this wasn't you average Harry Potter flick where the acting is as fantastical as the story line. I appreciated that the bad guys acted bad for bad reasons and didn't condescend.

In fact, that's what I like about C.S. Lewis' and Tolkien, both. Neither condescends to the young reader. The moral choices are life and death and you don't have to be 30 years old and wizened by war to understand the implications. In Prince Caspian, both Peter the High King and Caspian make selfish choices that get other people killed and both muster the courage to continue on and learn and do differently next time around. The scenes were intense.

The movie earns its PG rating. While there isn't gory bloodshed, the victims of hubris come to undeserving ends and the child watching this movie will know that good people die. So if you feel like your child is too young for that lesson, don't bring him. Overall, the film is visually gorgeous and not just because Caspian is a spoonful of yummy. The Narnians, castles, ruins and effects create a paradise that you'll want to jump through the screen to join. Go see it.

I give it 4/5 stars.

Cross-posted at Right Wing News.

Slut Babies--UPDATE

Beyoncé's new clothing line, House of Dereon, for children violates all sorts of rules moral and style. (As an aside, the website violates rules, too. I hate flash sites where you can't easily navigate. And the music is some annoying Middle Eastern clanging. The whole thing is irritating.)

As Michelle Malkin notes, the bar just keeps going lower. How are you going to prosecute someone for pedophilia when mainstream advertising is essentially doing it to kids? Michelle says:

Beyoncé’s clothes, you should know, are available at Macy’s department stores and other “fine” establishments willing to carry titillating tot wear. Shame on them all. Shame them all. It’s time to redouble our efforts to fight back against the Forever 21 culture that poisons Hollywood, Halloween, prom season and every season in between. In our indecent world, 7 has become the new 21.

Shouldn’t a child’s innocence last longer than a porn star’s .25-ounce pot of lip gloss?

Yes, but it doesn't these days.

UPDATE:

From VH1's blog:

These threads are definitely going to be a hit, as there’s certainly not a lot of heels or boas out there on the market for four year olds. Aren’t all moms out there desperate for a way to skank up their tots, Pussycat Dolls style? I think so!

And Parentdish:

Check out this ad for Deréon Girls and you will notice sweet-faced little girls wearing high heeled pumps, feather boas and bright red lipstick. This ad campaign might be called "where the playground and prostitute meet." If you can manage to look past the inappropriate accessories and somewhat suggestive poses, the clothes themselves aren't that bad. Maybe a little on the tacky side, but not overtly sexual.

Yes, well, walk through the Mall on the weekend or go to a public pool. Mother's are morons. And where are the fathers? It starts with Bratz, morphs into Hannah Montana, and then we're surprised when our little girls think it's normal to be slutty?

O.J. Might Be Guilty

All this time, I believed O.J. Simpson was innocent, but this new book is causing me to doubt. I feel so, so, betrayed. I mean, how could he?

Orlando Lust

It's been a couple weeks, but a couple weeks too long, so it is time. Orlando Bloom (oh and Kate Beckinsale, big whup) looking hot, as usual, in this Gap Ad that I've never seen before. Thanks, Glenn, for the heads-up on this. You can keep your Scarlett Johanssen. There is something guys just love about her...... It must be her insightful political takes.

Stuff You Should Know

Did you know that if things don't change you'll be required to use fluorescent light bulbs? Did you know that because so much corn and other grains are being used in biofuels that people in third world countries are starving? There are consequences to "feel good" policies that are economically and ultimately, morally, stupid.

Remember Ollie Johnson, dead at 95. I do. He's the guy who poured his soul into my favorite Disney film: Jungle Book.

If, you're so inclined.....a round-up from last nights stupid Democratic debate. Okay, I had to come back to this. Harrumph. Ann Althouse said the only quotable thing I've read, here it is:

2. Obama has always had a blandness about him. When you're feeling good about him, you project your hopes onto that blandness and he seems wonderful. When you're anxious about him, you think he's effete and ennervated. He's always the same.

A reader chastised me for leaving Neo-Neocon off of my list of favorite bloggers with ovaries. Dude, I'm including a link here, but that kinda proves my point. There are lots of awesome female bloggers. Am I misogynist to forget her? And, by the way, I had forgotten that Neo was a girl. So there. I'm gender blind....or at least stupid.

I listened to the President's and the Pope's address yesterday and was profoundly moved by both. I considered blogging about it, but knew the Anchoress would do a better job and so I just lazily waited for her to get her posts up. Hell, I do the same thing with weather and Brendan Loy or Maxed Out Mama and economics (she says to hold the mass suicide) or Ann Althouse and law (the Supreme court considers the death penalty for child rapists). I know my limitations and they are myriad.

The Kos kids threaten a revolution if Obama doesn't get the nomination. They fatigue me.

I talked about abortion before and the topic just won't die. And, it shouldn't. This link goes to one of the most disturbing things I have read yet, about the subject. But you should know. Can you imagine a college girl inseminating herself over and over, inducing abortions and then using the dead embryos and fetal tissue in an art project? Guess the college....Yale. Money quote:

"I hope it inspires some sort of discourse," Shvarts said. "Sure, some people will be upset with the message and will not agree with it, but it's not the intention of the piece to scandalize anyone."

And on that happy note, I'll got teach my kiddos something rational. We're learning division.

Some Things Just Aren't Right

Long time readers know of my Orlando Bloom obsession. New readers will be dismayed to know that I have one. Yes, well, I never claimed to be normal. And when Orlando put on a blond wig and pranced through the Rohan countryside, I just couldn't get enough of him. Do I need to remind you that I have a Legolas cut-out in my closet? He freaked the kids out at night so I had to put him away.

I hadn't blog-indulged my obsession recently because well, it seemed like Orlando had a couple flops and was out of the spotlight. He's come back into it in a horrible way and I want to throw up. It's his love life, people. He needs an intervention and I'm going to give him one.

Orlando, Jennifer Aniston is not the woman for you. . She strikes me as self-involved and messed up and rather dull. She is simply not good enough for you. He needs to run, run like the wind! He also needs to shave his weird facial hair and by the looks of it, take a bath, but I digress. Of paramount importance, Orlando Bloom must not, ever, end up with Jennifer Aniston.

There, I feel better.

Obligatory Daylight Savings Time Sucks Post & Other Things That Bug Me

I hate saving daylight. I really, really hate it. Today, I didn't go on my morning walk/run because my friggin' eyelids would not un-clamp. They are still closed. I'm blogging like Helen Keller here.

And, I'm irritated for other reasons. Namely, I hate Girl Scouts. I hate them because they hawk the most vile product on earth. There are three foods, yea verily four, that deserve eternal damnation because they are evil. And by evil, I mean that they make you, force you against your will, to eat the whole thing in one sitting. And those four foods are: Doritos, Cokes (I'm addicted to Coke, recovering, but I still look longingly at those wavy red cans and what sucks is that I have to go meet the dealer every fucking week and he's evil too--told you I was going to use it more--curse HEB! and curse Kroger, too, for good measure), Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies and to a lesser extent Pringles. Pringles is right out there with their evil--you can't stop at just one. No, you can't. And it's just wrong.

A sweet little Girl Scout at church emailed me (this is the modern world after all) and asked me to buy some cookies. I'm a sucker for that sort of thing. It's my boundary issues. I just can't say no. Drives my husband crazy. If some ragamuffin actually gets me to open the door, they win. It's all over. Every sob story, every band group, I buy from. So I bought three boxes. One seems chintzy, four seems excessive, two seems a little ungenerous, so three boxes it was. Total guilt tab: $10.50. Guess how many are left? Hint: We got three boxes on Saturday afternoon. One tube was gone by the time I got in the car. Another half a tube was gone before I got the twenty minutes home and I wasn't sharing. A-huh. That's right. Guess how many are left now? Guess! I'll go check. Hold on. (This is a ruse, because I'm hungry and if there are any left, I want to eat them.) Well, shiver me timbers! There is a whole box left and half a tube. That means I only, only, ate a tube and a half of Thin Mints in one day. I don't think I blew my diet after all.

So, yesterday, my daughter was one of the few fifty thousand who got the privilege of seeing Hannah Montana at the Houston Rodeo. Click on the link "Hannah and her fans" below the Hannah picture and see if you can pick out my kid. Yes, she has mascara on. Sigh. She went with her friend and her friend's mom. She rejected the Hanna wig because "it itches". You know there's going to be a big problem, don't you? Miley Cyrus is going to get pregnant and a whole generation of girls will fall into the swill of American pop culture right along with her. They love her the way hippies loved the Beatles circa Yellow Submarine. They love her like Lefties love Obama. It's irrational. It's disturbing. And hopefully, it's something they'll grow out of.

My parents didn't allow me to dip my toe into the popular culture cess pool. I was unsullied as a teenager (well, as much as they could control it). As a result, I have an unnatural love for 80's big hair bands. There are developmental stages--teenybopper adoration being one--and if they are short-circuited, well, weird things happen in adulthood. No, I don't cry when I hear Obama orate but I did accept the gift of the Legolas standing cardboard cut-out (radiant in all his mossy green splendor) from a friend and put him in the living room where I could see him every day. I would be what could be described as a developmentally delayed, nerd teeny-bopper. Actually, I think I'm out of that stage, but I still like Bon Jovi.

While my daughter jammed, I went to a class to learn a new skill. I need more skillz. I'm not ready to share with you all yet what my new skill is, because I'm afraid that I won't follow through with it or get bored with it, as I'm wont to do, and then just sound like a pretentious asshole. In the mean time, though, it's fun to learn something new and make new friends doing something new. Lots of newness there. But I'm worried about getting old and letting my mind rot. It's something that concerns me. We age and we calcify into these underachieving versions of ourselves. We concede defeat to life--well, I'm 40, I'm only going to achieve so much. Might as well accept my lot.

Accepting my lot has never been my way. And I plan to fight being "elderly" in mind and body as long as possible. It's not that I mind having an old age number. It's that I mind the rock-headedness that comes with it. It's a fine line, you know? Getting settled with who you are as a person and what you need and want to be happy is one of the nice things about getting older. You see yourself for who you are and kinda accept it--the limitations and the gifts. But with that acceptance can come complacency. Well, I'm no good with that, so why bother? Goes the thinking. Bah! I want to continue to expand my brain and not let it shrink.

And just for your information, read up on the concept of neuroplasticity. It used to be believed that our brains were pretty set at a certain age and we just lost brain cells with time. That's not true. We continue making new brain connections and our brains keep pruning the tree of extraneous connections 'til the day we die. So, it's important to keep learning, to keep playing, to keep doing as we age. One of my professors at college was fond of saying, "Movement is life." Well, move your brain and your body, and you live.

I want to live. I just also want a nap. Did I mention that I hate daylight savings time?

Obligatory Oscars Post

Reaction: Meh.

Everyone looked beautiful. Mostly boring, as usual. The only interesting award forced me to wait until the end: the men. They all looked genuinely nervous and desirous. I guess even actors can't hide their true feelings.

I find it interesting how squirmy the actors get seeing themselves. Kate Blanchett shrunk in her chair when she saw herself yelling to the Spanish Ambassador. Johnny Depp, who I love, looked anxiously at his wife. Even George Clooney seemed somewhat embarrassed. He's looking good, but older. I wonder how well he's going to age.

Best dress.

I went over to the Sisters to see what they had to say about the Oscars, but nothin'. I thought they were fashion hounds. What the Danté's Inferno? The do have a good post about the working mom's lament: Sick kids. Well, I've been a SAHM (stay at home mom) and have sick kids, too. And when they're sick, and this year its been six weeks straight now, I wonder what in the world I would do if I was working more than I do. A doctor doesn't get sick days. We'll find out soon enough. I'll be getting back in the saddle practicing a couple days a week in a new practice. Sister mentions Sylvia Plath. I can't remember if she baked her head in the oven or purposefully drowned herself, I get my neurotic writers confused, but either way, with homeschooling I can totally relate. It is time to escape the four walls.

Hottie of the Week

Equal time. We need equal time. I'm not interested in seeing Denise Richards in a bikini. But seeing Patrick Dempsey in clothes does it for me. What can I say? I'm an old lady.

And, I don't usually dig facial hair, but it works for him!

Beowulf: There Are No Heroes

We have firmly established that I am a hard-core, socially awkward, fantasy-reading,, sci-fi watching nerd. Just wanted to remind you of that while reviewing the movie Beowulf.

Beowulf, oh ye of firm, round, hairless buttocks and impressive, um, courage! This movie strikes me as a satire of all monster v. man films out there rather than a serious treatment of the epic poem. I giggled throughout. Most of the rest of the audience didn't seem to get the joke.

Everything, and I mean, everything was enhanced in this remarkable cartoon. It was a cartoon. While the characters looked and sounded like Angelina Jolie (naked and gold), Anthony Hopkins (bloated and bulked up) and Ray Winstone (ripped and taut), they were cartoons. Thus, the raters of the movie deemed the fake boobs and butts acceptable for children. I would NOT bring any child under fifteen to this movie, but I'm strict.

If you're going to fully appreciate the spectacle, see this movie in 3D. You want to be blood-spattered and oozed on, if possible, otherwise it's not worth it, right? Grendel is hideous beyond all measure. I caught myself examining his skinned arms, filleted jaw, and disfigured head. But even that turned funny. He was like a puss-filled Gollum from the Lord of the Rings.

The emotions conveyed by the animation lacked humanness. They seemed to focus more on Beowulf's facial ticks and features and he felt the most "real". Otherwise, the entire picture was an experience, much like the movie 300. There was little emotional engagement. In fact, the movie reminded me of Moulin Rouge and even Chicago to a lesser extent or going to a Cirque du Soleil show, where the story is the spectacle. There is no narrative.

Modern writers eschew a plot for fear it will turn off the masses. It is either the experience (300) or to be preached at incessantly (Lions for Lambs, Happy Feet). Can't a movie have an engaging story where a hero clearly wins? Oh wait, I remember. There are no heroes.

My only "deep thought" associated with this film came during the very last scene. I leaned over to ask my husband if men, were indeed, so easily mislead. He said yes, but I thought that conclusion to be rather misandric. Surely men exist who wouldn't be tempted by the likes of a naked demon Angelina Jolie purring false promises destined to be eternal torment.

Was the joke on Ms. Jolie and Mr. Pitt or was the joke on us? I bet the latter. The movie should be categorized as a comedy.

John Hawkins Interviews Ann Coulter

I think the notion that she's a comedienne before anything else is accurate:

How about dashing off a quick sentence or even just a word or two about the following...

Nancy Pelosi: Ever heard the expression "she could screw up a train wreck"? She's such a blithering, blinking nincompoop she can't even get congressional gridlock to run smoothly.

Harry Reid: A gift from God to the G.O.P.

Media Matters: Media might matter, but "Media Matters" clearly doesn't.

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad: One of the most pro-American speakers ever invited to lecture by Columbia University

Keith Olbermann: The Ward Churchill of MSNBC

Al Gore: America's favorite gay Vulcan.

Elizabeth Edwards: She never calls me anymore when I'm being interviewed on live TV. Was it something I said?

CAIR: N.A.A.C.B. - The National Association for the Advancement of Car Bombers.

Kid Nation and Other Shows

As most long-time readers know, we got rid of the television, cable and whatnot probably seven years ago now. First, my autistic son would sit like a zombie in front of Thomas the Tank Engine, and I was so overwhelmed, I simply didn't know what to do with him. It was him stare at the TV or stare at me and the latter freaked me out. Two, my husband and I were addicted to watching mindless shows. I would have the TV on during the day and watch Oprah or whatever arts show was on just to pass the time feeling overwhelmed (see #1).

It got ridiculous.

So, we sent cable to never-never land. We missed sports. I missed football, too. But we soldiered on. Well, this last year, I bought the hubby the flat screen, and then the DVR and then the universal remote and then I programed it. Well, ya gotta have cable! So we're back watching sports. The TV isn't on during the day. And I'm not really hooked into any show besides House. I just flip around (when I can make the remote work. Strangely, I could program it, but using the blasted thing is incredibly difficult.).

This last week I watch caught the Bionic Woman and Kid Nation. The former was OK. Unfortunately for Jaime Summers, she's not the most compelling person on the show. Battle Star Galactica actress Katee Sackoff steals every scene. Sackoff does tortured so well. The actress playing Jaime Summers seems bland in comparison. And she's not at all athletic. She just feels wrong for the part. Maybe she'll grow on me. So far, I think she was mis-cast.

Kid Nation surprised me. My husband couldn't get past the exploitation issues and I agree that it's disturbing to see a poor little ten year old sobbing for his family. What struck me most, though, is how Kid Nation reveals cultural changes. Adults these days underestimate children. We have infantilized children and even young adults so completely, that it's unimaginable that a seven year old cares for younger siblings all over the world. But they do. And they did. And they could. And they can.

Ironically, part of the reason I decided to home school was to foster independence in my children. Now that they're not pried out of bed at 6:00 a.m., they have time to make their own breakfast, clean up, get dressed, get their work out, and start their work. They are already working more independently, helping each other and caring for their younger sibling. Self esteem has risen.

Happiness is directly related to control. That is, when we feel in control, when we have something mastered, we get a sense of satisfaction. Our kids get deprived of that satisfaction when everything is done for them. They feel helpless and hopeless.

Anyway, I'll try to catch Kid Nation again. It's good to see that left to their own devices, even modern American kids would dig deep and have the emotional, intellectual and physical resources to survive--even if the situation is contrived.

Jodie Foster: A Gun-Toting Revenge-Killer?

John Hawkins brings attention to the disconnect that actors have between the message they send with their art (are we to believe that Foster's portrayal in The Brave One of a vigilante was ironic?) and the message they purport to live by. She actually said this:

I don't believe that any gun should be in the hand of a thinking, feeling, breathing human being. Americans are by nature filled with rage-slash-fear. And guns are a huge part of our culture. I know I'm crazy because I'm only supposed to say that in Europe. But violence corrupts absolutely.

To which John Hawkins says:

Moreover, Foster grew up with bodyguards, undoubtedly armed bodyguards, who were protecting her from crazed nuts like John Hinckley, Jr. If you were looking for a celebrity who's a perfect example of why people should be allowed to carry guns, Foster's experience with John Hinckley, Jr would make her one of the first people you'd point towards.

In a way, you almost have to feel sorry for celebrities like Foster because they live in such a bubble that there probably isn't anyone that they talk to on a regular basis that will have the courage to tell them that they're spouting complete nonsense.

Ms. Foster is a mother now. I simply cannot believe that she would deny her homicidal feelings should her child be purposefully hurt. That's perfectly natural. The most docile cow will become fearsome to a bull when protecting her calf. I'm not saying she would pick up the gun, but to deny that instinct? And she would claim it immoral to protect that same child? Or would it be moral to use a gun in self or family defense?

In Hollywood, the brain is on autopilot. I don't think that these people even think about what they're saying anymore.

Environmentalism and Forestry

This article should be in your intellectual arsenal when it comes to arguing with stupid environmentalists. About trees:

North Americans are the world's largest per-capita wood consumers and yet our forests cover approximately the same area of land as they did 100 years ago. According to the United Nations, our forests have expanded nearly 100 million acres over the past decade.

The relationship between trees and greenhouse gases is simple enough on the surface. Trees grow by taking carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and, through photosynthesis, converting it into sugars. The sugars are then used as energy and materials to build cellulose and lignin, the main constituents of wood.
There is a misconception that cutting down an old tree will result in a net release of carbon. Yet wooden furniture made in the Elizabethan era still holds the carbon fixed hundreds of years ago.

Berman, a veteran of the forestry protest movement, should by now have learned that young forests outperform old growth in carbon sequestration.
Although old trees contain huge amounts of carbon, their rate of sequestration has slowed to a near halt. A young tree, although it contains little fixed carbon, pulls CO2 from the atmosphere at a much faster rate.

Plant more trees. Like, duh!

Leona Helmsley Roars To The Grave

LEFT: I wonder if she is in the hot seat? Look at that face; pure contempt.


I gave Leona Helmsley the benefit of the doubt during her trial and incarceration which I had attributed to class warfare and rich-people hatred, but now, I'm beginning to think that she is one of those mean, petty, vindictive, manipulative, condescending, imperious people who would be little less than nothing were it not for loads of money. I suspect she came from the plebe class and despised her working-class roots. They're the worst sort when endowed with unearned cash.

Ah, and after a little peak at Wikipedia, what do you know? I swear I did not look at this entry before typing the above. Of course, this doesn't make me a genius. She's pretty easy to deconstruct, I mean, even the Donald had her figured out:

She was born Leona Mindy Rosenthal in Marbletown, Ulster County, New York, to Polish Jewish immigrants, daughter of a hatmaker, and raised in Brooklyn. As an adult, she legally changed her surname to Roberts, according to an obituary in the New York Times.[1]. Helmsley would later claim that she appeared in billboard ads for Chesterfield cigarettes, but there is no evidence of this, and her claim remains entirely unsubstantiated.

So this woman pretends at wealth and fame and will do anything to get a name. Ambitious in the extreme and tyrannical to those "beneath" her, her disrespect of the help just masks her own fear of loss and self-loathing. To mask her powerlessness, she feels powerful by abusing everyone around her. Her family makes nice soft targets. Most people attempt to be nice to grandma, but she would have none of it. No doubt, kindness was viewed with suspicion. Anyone nice is just after money--just like Leona was herself. That's what people do, project their secret weaknesses on others. (Watch what the Clintons accuse others of, it's very telling.) Anyone who met her disdain with disdain was cast aside. Her child and grandchildren had no chance with her. She was only about herself.

Her only child, a son from her first (lesser) marriage died of a heart-attack. This is what Leona did:

On March 31, 1982, her only child, Jay Panzirer, died of a heart attack. Leona then sued her son's estate for money and property that she said he had borrowed, and her son's widow Mimi received an eviction notice. Mimi Panzirer - the mother of Leona's four grandchildren - later said the legal expenses wiped her out and "to this day I don't know why they did it."

I know why. Her son was not of sufficiently bred stock. She hated her past and he was one big reminder of that. Once he died, she could absolve herself of bringing his wife and family to nothing.

It looks like many of us who were Leona defenders (the legal case was weak) were wrong. She might just be one of those people who deserve to spend time sleeping on bunk with a public toilet. Seems Paris Hilton learned more lessons from her bunk-time than Leona did. Justice is cruel, though. She may have stipulated a golden sarcophagus, but she's still dead. Even Leona's money and arrogance can't save her from that humble fate.

Michael Vick's Mea Culpa

Not impressed, but it will probably do for most Americans. I hate it when people speak in the third person. Somehow, it makes me believe that they're disassociated from their apologies:

"I totally ask for forgiveness and understanding as I move forward to bettering Michael Vick the person, not the football player," he said.

Read the whole thing. Do you believe him?