The Barnes Eye View

A Meaty Goulash of Movies, Sports, and Conservative Politics

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Always the one to treat a citizen with respect, way to go Joe Bite-me



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Chris Christie on Neil Cavuto, it is amazing how far a little common sense can go.



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by Leo Grin from BigHollywood

In a town where screenwriter William Goldman famously stated, “Nobody knows anything,” Pixar evidently knows something. It began its life in the early 1980s as part of Lucasfilm’s struggling computer division, then later was spun off into the hands of Apple visionary Steve Jobs. The debut of Toy Story in 1995 finally rocketed the fledgling studio into the public’s consciousness, and since then every one of its eleven films has become a monster hit, both critically and commercially. It’s a winning streak unmatched by any other studio in Hollywood history.

Countless articles and interviews have attempted to divine the alchemy that turns everything Pixar touches into box-office gold. Some see an increasingly tired formula at work under the hood of each film, in which only the surface trappings change. Others see a genuine creative ethos guiding the minds responsible for each picture, something almost akin to a filmmaking religion, complete with its own commandments and proscriptions.


What’s their secret? There’s as many answers to that as there are movie-loving blowhards blogging on the Internet, but here’s my take:


1. No studio interference. Pixar films are kept firmly in the charge of writer-directors with strong creative visions. The spectacle of studio executives offering reams of script notes to trained and proven artists (the equivalent of used car salesmen telling Porsche designers how to build their next model) is unheard of there.

2. Pixar University. The company has developed a formidable in-house education facility, where employees improve their skills and artistry via over a hundred courses covering a wide variety of artistic subjects and disciplines. This reminds me of the old studio system, where young actors, writers, and directors were meticulously groomed into the stars and artisans of tomorrow. It’s an idea long overdue for a comeback in Hollywood.

3. No songs. I’m a great fan of quality musicals featuring tunes worthy of inclusion in the The Great American Songbook, but the kiddie pap that adorns the typical animated movie doesn’t qualify. To date, Pixar has resisted this insipid siren call, and is on record as especially despising the dreaded “Happy Village” songs that routinely pollute modern children’s films. Good for them.

4. Likable characters. Pixar’s heroes have their faults and foibles, but at the end of the day they remain heroes, imbued with a latent Judeo-Christian sense of morality, ethics, sacrifice, and justice.

5. “Animation is a medium, not a genre.” These words of wisdom come from Pixar director Brad Bird (The Incredibles, Ratatouille). Pixar’s films are always, first and foremost, cinema. Their makers insist that their stories match, in every soulful, poetic, and dramatic detail, the best that live-action dramas have to offer. Which inexorably leads to the notion of. . . .


6. Not for kids, for everyone. Pixar’s movies are great favorites with children of course, due in no small part to their G (and only occasionally PG) ratings. But we too often forget that G doesn’t stand for “Grownups Not Allowed,” but for “General Audiences.” Pixar makes movies for adults, children, families, liberals, conservatives, Americans, foreigners — everyone. They don’t pander, or needlessly exclude, or revel in the poor triumph of a political or religious cheap shot. Every few years we are reminded via some mega-hit that any story can, with intelligent adjustments, be made universally attractive to paying audiences. Pixar makes these adjustments as a matter of course, every time.

7. The Golden Rule, Pixar’s homegrown Hippocratic Oath: Do No Harm. As in harm to the audience. It’s one thing to address the many difficult subjects that make up Real Life, things like loss, death, and failure. It’s quite another to let audience members leave the theater, as so many nihilistic and mean-spirited modern movies do, with those issues still hanging unresolved in their psyches like an open wound. Pixar, in following their own personal Hays Code like the classics of yore, brings audiences safely through the darkness.

Hollywood has a lot of profit awaiting them should they ever come around to embracing the Pixar Rules for the bulk of their live-action slates. That’s not to say that there’s no room in the marketplace for R-rated or niche films, but such outliers — designed to appeal to a comparative sliver of the potential audience — should be budgeted and marketed accordingly. A full 90% of what Hollywood makes are pictures that executives hope will appeal to the widest possible audience. Given the rank mediocrity, offensiveness, and clichéd idiocy that permeates so much of that product, a better formula — one that attracts “General Audiences,” promotes healthy values, and above all Does No Harm to their customers — would be a grand thing.

Oh well, one can dream. Until they wise up, we have Pixar: an American success story worthy of the highest praise, and a veritable beacon of hope and renewal shining across our wine-dark cultural sea.

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911 Call: Man Claims He Saw Bigfoot

Posted by T. BARNES On 4:46 AM 0 comments

North Carolina man claims he saw bigfoot on his property twice in one night.  Right.



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Barack Obama: Dreamer in Chief

Posted by T. BARNES On 9:56 PM 0 comments

by Charles Krauthammer from NationalReview.com

Pres. Barack Obama doesn’t do the mundane. He was sent to us to do larger things. You could see that plainly in his Oval Office address on the Gulf oil spill. He could barely get himself through the pedestrian first half: a bit of BP-bashing, a bit of faux-Clintonian “I feel your pain,” a bit of recovery and economic-mitigation accounting. It wasn’t until the end of the speech — the let-no-crisis-go-to-waste part that tried to leverage the Gulf Coast devastation to advance his cap-and-trade climate-change agenda — that Obama warmed to his task.


Pedestrian is beneath Obama. Mr. Fix-It he is not. He is world-historical, the visionary, come to make the oceans recede and the planet heal.


How? By creating a glorious, new clean-green economy. And how exactly to do that? From Washington, by presidential command, and with tens of billions of dollars thrown around. With the liberal (and professorial) conceit that scientific breakthroughs can be legislated into existence, Obama proposes to give us a new industrial economy.


But is this not what we’ve been trying to do for decades with ethanol — which remains a monumental boondoggle, economically unviable and environmentally damaging to boot — as with yesterday’s panacea, synfuels, into which Jimmy Carter poured billions?

Notice that Obama no longer talks about Spain, which until recently he repeatedly cited for its visionary subsidies of a blossoming new clean-energy industry. That’s because Spain, now on the verge of bankruptcy, is pledged to reverse its disastrously bloated public spending, including radical cuts in subsidies to its uneconomical photovoltaic industry.

There’s a reason petroleum is such a durable fuel. It’s not, as Obama fatuously suggested, because of oil-company lobbying, but because it is very portable, energy-dense, and easy to use.

But this doesn’t stop Obama from thinking that he can mandate a superior substitute into being. His argument: Well, if we can put a man on the moon, why not this?

Aside from the irony that this most tiresome of clichés comes from a president who is canceling our program to return to the moon, it is utterly meaningless. The wars on cancer and on poverty have been similarly sold. They remain unwon. Why? Because we knew how to land on the moon. We had the physics to do it. Cancer cells, on the other hand, are far more complex than the Newtonian equations that govern a moon landing. Equally daunting are the laws of social interaction — even assuming there are any — that sustain a culture of poverty.

Similarly, we don’t know how to make renewables that match the efficiency of fossil fuels. In the interim, it is Obama and his Democratic allies who, as they dream of such scientific leaps, are unwilling to use existing technologies to reduce our dependence on foreign (i.e., imported) and risky (i.e., deepwater) sources of oil — twin dependencies that Obama decried in Tuesday’s speech.

“Part of the reason oil companies are drilling a mile beneath the surface of the ocean,” said Obama, is “because we’re running out of places to drill on land and in shallow water.”

Running out of places on land? What about the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge or the less-known National Petroleum Reserve — 23 million acres of Alaska’s North Slope, near the existing pipeline and designated nearly a century ago for petroleum development — that have been shut down by the federal government?

Running out of shallow-water sources? How about the Pacific Ocean, a not-inconsiderable body of water, and its vast U.S. coastline? That’s been off-limits to new drilling for three decades.

We haven’t run out of safer and more easily accessible sources of oil. We’ve been run off them by environmentalists. They prefer to dream green instead.

Obama is dreamer in chief: He wants to take us to this green future “even if we’re unsure exactly what that looks like. Even if we don’t yet precisely know how we’re going to get there.” Here’s the offer: Tax carbon, spend trillions, and put government in control of the energy economy — and he will take you he knows not where, by way of a road he knows not which.

That’s why Tuesday’s speech was received with such consternation. It was so untethered from reality. The Gulf is gushing, and the president is talking mystery roads to unknown destinations. That passes for vision, and vision is Obama’s thing. It sure beats cleaning up beaches.

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by Rick Reilly from ESPN.com
 Here are the top 10 most annoying things about watching the World Cup already:


1. That pesky cerebrum-blowing incessant buzzing sound coming from the TV set. "Babe, something's wrong with the TV," my wife said Saturday. But there wasn't anything wrong. It was the dreaded vuvuzelas, the yard-long plastic horns (voo-voo-zella) that South African fans blow all the time, without rhyme nor reason, when something is happening and when it's not (it's usually not), during timeouts and time ins, during halftime and at the breakfast table and while they're on the bus and while doing their taxes, until you just want to stab two fondue forks deep into your ears and stir. They never stop. It's like having a desk in the center cubicle at American Bee, Inc. They sound like 80,000 yaks getting sick. They are the leading cause of Tylenol sales in the world today.



2. The embarrassing photographer bibs the guys on the bench have to wear during the game. They're very purple and dorky. My God, who knew you could make a World Cup team and be made to look like a geek? Hey, are you on the American national soccer squad or do you throw bags for Northwest Airlines?


3. The Twinkie-fingered gloves goalkeepers wear. No wonder the English goalkeeper allowed that easy shot to give America a 1-1 tie in the Group C opener. You couldn't stop a beach ball with those big goofy things. What, is Hamburger Helper a sponsor? Why must they be so huge? Doesn't Roger Rabbit need them back? And where do the batteries go? How are goalkeepers expected to hang on to the ball with them on? And is it difficult to play goalie while also taking things out of the oven?




4. The godforsaken vuvuzelas! Make them stop! One of the charms of soccer is the singing that fans do. There is always loads of singing and chanting because every game is 1-nil, so there's plenty of time for singing and chanting. Soccer fans sing and chant inane hilarious things like, "We are from Norway! We came on a plane! And we are very drunk!" But we don't get to hear the singing and the chanting because of the horrible, hideous, heinous vuvuzelas! My god, they should take them into the mountainous caves region of Pakistan and play them until Osama bin Laden comes running out, screaming, "OK, OK! I give!"


5. All the faking. I haven't seen this much bad theater since I saw former "American Idol competitor" Ace Young starring in "Hair" on Broadway. These guys collapse as though they've just caught a javelin in the groin every time an opponent so much as asks them for the time. These guys make Paul Pierce look sincere. Sell it somewhere else, Sven. We live in the U.S., where hockey players pop their eye back into their socket without missing a shift. This will be the new rule when I'm made president of FIFA: If you stay on the ground longer than 30 seconds, you're out of the game; 45, you are taken directly to the nearest hospital; 60, you get a telethon.


6. The yellow cards. I love the way the refs come running up to the player as though he has just taken out a chainsaw and sawed somebody's hand off. The ref looks very stern and upset. And then all the ref does is snap his little yellow piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and stick it in the offender's face, as though the little yellow card has some kind of superpower. As if to say, "Ha! you are powerless against my little yellow piece of paper, which shows your less-than-average marks from third grade!" I'd love to see that in the middle of an NBA fight. Can you imagine seeing some ref come running up to Rasheed Wallace after laying out Carmelo Anthony with a roundhouse right and sticking that yellow card right in his face? He'd soon be digesting it through his ear hole.



7. The ties. In the NFL in the past 10 years, there have been two ties. As of Tuesday morning, in the first 11 games of this World Cup, there have been five ties. You will not see more ties at a J.C. Penney's Father's Day sale. I hate ties. Doesn't anybody want to win in this sport? All these ties are about as exciting as a Jonas Brothers roundtable on sex.


8. The World Cup itself. Really? All this running and vuvuzela-ing and pulling off shirts for that trophy? It looks like somebody soldered it together in their basement -- after drinking a handle of Jack Daniel's. It looks like something you'd use to prop open your Tuff Shed door during spring cleaning. It's gold and small and looks like somebody accidentally melted it somewhere along the way. I mean, there IS chocolate in the middle of that thing, right? Maybe I just don't get it.


9. Stoppage time. Why can't we know how much time is left? Why must it be such a mystery? Whose idea was this? Why do only the refs get to know? Wouldn't it be more exciting if we all knew? You tell me which is more exciting:


A. "Ten seconds left now! Kaka needs to get a shot off here or it's over! Five seconds! Kaka wheeling! Two seconds! There's the shot! And … "


B. "Well, the ref should be calling this game shortly. A minute or two. Maybe more. Actually, I don't know. Nigel, do you know? Kaka seems confused. He's dribbling. Wait. Now he's stopped to examine a small scab, and well, that's it. The ref says it's over. I guess that's it, then."


All we get is B. Somebody needs to put some stoppage to stoppage time.


10. The vuvuzelas from eardrum-hellas! Don't tell me it's discrimination to want them to stop. Don't tell me it's an essential part of South African culture. If it is, it's an annoying part of their culture. Yes, I know that centuries ago, the vuvuzelas were made from animal horns to call the village elders in for a meeting. And I'll bet you five wildebeests that when the elders finally got to the meeting they said, "Would you STOP already with the blowing? You're making me crazy!" I've been to Africa four times. They do some of the most beautiful singing you can imagine. At the World Cup, I'm hearing no singing. I'm hearing no chanting. I'm hearing 80,000 kazoos on steroids.


But it still sounds better than Ace Young.

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Govenor Christie: Real Change

Posted by T. BARNES On 6:39 PM 0 comments

Common sense is a wonderful thing




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The anticipated game will hit stores in November




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TRAILER: "Preadators"

Posted by T. BARNES On 6:56 PM 0 comments



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"The Democratic Party has chosen their nominee, and we have to stand behind their choice," Greene said in response to party officials asking him to withdraw from the race after they learned he is facing a felony charge for allegedly showing a college student pornography. "The people have spoken. We need to be pro-South Carolina, not anti-Greene."

Alvin Greene-South Carolina Democratic Candidate for United States Senate

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by John Nolte


When Hollywood turns against someone, you won’t have to ask if they have. You’ll know.

When Leftist Hollywood turns against someone, like they did President George W. Bush, neither our country nor the safety of our men and women in uniform means anything -- for this industry will eagerly waste hundreds of millions of dollars on a dozen-plus lousy films specifically designed to undermine our will to win a righteous war. When Hollywood turns on someone, they not only relentlessly mock, demean and denigrate that individual; they mock, demean, and denigrate their family.
Yes, the children.


Incompetence, broken promises, partisan divisiveness, the Gulf dying before our eyes, deficit forecasts with so many zeroes Einstein couldn’t grasp them, and dirty backroom deals haven’t cooled Hollywood on President Obama one bit. The same industry that stands by a Roman Polanski certainly isn’t going to jump off the USS ObamaWorship over a little thing like double-digit unemployment. If nothing else, Tinseltowners are loyal and their rules are simple: child rape’s fine, just don’t let us catch you with a Rush Limbaugh bumper sticker.

Yes, recently we’ve heard some in the entertainment industry appear to criticize the President. Most notably “Daily Show” host Jon Stewart, who ridiculed His Own Personal One over that oh-so presidential ”ass to kick” comment, and director Spike Lee, who suggested Obama drop the cool, calm professorial act and “go off” over the oil spill. But don’t be fooled. This is simply the president’s own personal Palace Guards doing their duty and guarding the palace.

You have to keep in mind that with a very few notable exceptions, the whole of the entertainment industry is a left-wing propaganda machine manned by those who understand that politics is downstream from the culture, and who fully grasp that their primary mandate is to protect President Obama at all costs. All Threats Must Be Eliminated. The only reason Obama’s been taking a little pop culture heat lately is due to that fact that right now the biggest threat to Obama is Obama and his own incompetence and disconnect.

If anything, Hollywood is worried about and for Obama. Worried about the upcoming mid-terms, his re-election chances, his sliding poll numbers, and his gilded ship sailing off course and landing in Carter-ita-ville instead of Mt. Rushmore. Spike Lee, Jon Stewart and their ilk are certainly a little panicked over how they see things going for their guy. But these recent criticisms from the president’s entertainment community pals should be interpreted as nothing any more serious than dear and close friends staging a helpful tough-love intervention. Hollywood can’t even muster a little criticism for Obama’s mishandling of the Gulf oil spill.

The only exception I would grant to my otherwise cynical observations (but that doesn’t make them wrong) is George Clooney’s recent editorial criticism of the Obama’s administration’s lack of engagement in the Sudan. As misguided as Clooney is in all things (including his decision to make “Leatherheads”), his concern for the Sudan is sincere. But one sentence in an 800-word piece is far from a mutiny.

Rest assure that the president can sleep well in the comfortable knowledge that as soon as any kind of existential threat looms on the horizon -- like, say, a feisty, self-made female governor from some far off state -- the entertainment industry will immediately snap back into line and set their powerful, elite broadcast capabilities on DESTROY.

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Obama singing "Kick Ass" Song

Posted by T. BARNES On 10:15 PM 0 comments

Wonder how long it will take to have the creator of this video called a racist??



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Not quite sure how I feel about this if it is indeed true but then again I never thought Heath Ledger would have been a good Joker.  -Barnes

Laura Schreffler with reporting by Russ Weakland from Hollywoodlife.com


Director Christopher Nolan trades in the Joker for the Riddler in the next Batman movie and has pegged his ‘Inception’ star, JGL, to star!


What started off as a joke has become a reality —Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who stars in Christopher Nolan’s new film, Inception, is the director’s first pick to play The Riddler in the next installment of the Batman franchise!

“Chris really dug Joseph [as an actor],” a source close to the director tells HollywoodLife.com exclusively. “There was a joke at first between them [on the set of Inception] that Joseph wanted to read for Batman 3 and things heated up as filming continued.”

Adds the insider, “It’s not 100% confirmed that he’s getting [the role of The Riddler] but there’s certainly talk about it. Joseph is definitely on the short list.” This should make fans happy, especially as several fan sites have expressed a wish to see the 500 Days of Summer cutie score the role!


But don’t expect to find out anytime soon whether the 29-year-old actor will actually become The Riddler in reality — the script is still being written! Also don’t expect to see JGL take on his 10 Things I Hate About You co-star Heath Ledger’s posthumous Oscar-winning role of The Joker, either — Nolan has already confirmed that he won’t be recasting that particular part. Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s rep says, “This is not true.”

The working titled Batman 3 is slated for a July 2012 release, but if you can’t wait to see a Joseph Gordon-Levitt/Christopher Nolan collaboration, check out Inception when it premieres July 16.

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On the Set of "Thor"

Posted by T. BARNES On 8:52 PM 0 comments



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The Alien in the White House

Posted by T. BARNES On 5:35 PM 0 comments

By DOROTHY RABINOWITZ from the Wall Street Journal

The deepening notes of disenchantment with Barack Obama now issuing from commentators across the political spectrum were predictable. So, too, were the charges from some of the president's earliest enthusiasts about his failure to reflect a powerful sense of urgency about the oil spill.

There should have been nothing puzzling about his response to anyone who has paid even modest critical attention to Mr. Obama's pronouncements. For it was clear from the first that this president—single-minded, ever-visible, confident in his program for a reformed America saved from darkness by his arrival—was wanting in certain qualities citizens have until now taken for granted in their presidents. Namely, a tone and presence that said: This is the Americans' leader, a man of them, for them, the nation's voice and champion. Mr. Obama wasn't lacking in concern about the oil spill. What he lacked was that voice—and for good reason.

Those qualities to be expected in a president were never about rhetoric; Mr. Obama had proved himself a dab hand at that on the campaign trail. They were a matter of identification with the nation and to all that binds its people together in pride and allegiance. These are feelings held deep in American hearts, unvoiced mostly, but unmistakably there and not only on the Fourth of July.


A great part of America now understands that this president's sense of identification lies elsewhere, and is in profound ways unlike theirs. He is hard put to sound convincingly like the leader of the nation, because he is, at heart and by instinct, the voice mainly of his ideological class. He is the alien in the White House, a matter having nothing to do with delusions about his birthplace cherished by the demented fringe.


One of his first reforms was to rid the White House of the bust of Winston Churchill—a gift from Tony Blair—by packing it back off to 10 Downing Street. A cloudlet of mystery has surrounded the subject ever since, but the central fact stands clear. The new administration had apparently found no place in our national house of many rooms for the British leader who lives on so vividly in the American mind. Churchill, face of our shared wartime struggle, dauntless rallier of his nation who continues, so remarkably, to speak to ours. For a president to whom such associations are alien, ridding the White House of Churchill would, of course, have raised no second thoughts.


Far greater strangeness has since flowed steadily from Washington. The president's appointees, transmitters of policy, go forth with singular passion week after week, delivering the latest inversion of reality. Their work is not easy, focused as it is on a current prime preoccupation of this White House—that is, finding ways to avoid any public mention of the indisputable Islamist identity of the enemy at war with us. No small trick that, but their efforts go forward in public spectacles matchless in their absurdity—unnerving in what they confirm about our current guardians of law and national security.


Consider the hapless Eric Holder, America's attorney general, confronting the question put to him by Rep. Lamar Smith (R., Texas) of the House Judicary Committee on May 13.


Did Mr. Holder think that in the last three terrorist attempts on this soil, one of them successful (Maj. Nidal Hasan's murder of 13 soldiers at Fort Hood, preceded by his shout of "Allahu Akbar!"), that radical Islam might have played any role at all? Mr. Holder seemed puzzled by the question. "People have different reasons" he finally answered—a response he repeated three times. He didn't want "to say anything negative about any religion."


And who can forget the exhortations on jihad by John Brennan, Mr. Obama's chief adviser on counterterrorism? Mr. Brennan has in the past charged that Americans lack sensitivity to the Muslim world, and that we have particularly failed to credit its peace-loving disposition. In a May 26 speech at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, Mr. Brennan held forth fervently, if not quite comprehensibly, on who our enemy was not: "Our enemy is not terrorism because terrorism is just a tactic. Our enemy is not terror because terror is a state of mind, and as Americans we refuse to live in fear."


He went on to announce, sternly, that we do not refer to our enemies as Islamists or jihadists because jihad is a holy struggle, a legitimate tenet of Islam. How then might we be permitted to describe our enemies? One hint comes from another of Mr. Brennan's pronouncements in that speech: That "violent extremists are victims of political, economic and social forces."


Yes, that would work. Consider the news bulletins we could have read: "Police have arrested Faisal Shahzad, victim of political, economic and social forces living in Connecticut, for efforts to set off a car bomb explosion in Times Square." Plotters in Afghanistan and Yemen, preparing for their next attempt at mass murder in America, could only have listened in wonderment. They must have marvelled in particular on learning that this was the chief counterterrorism adviser to the president of the United States.


Long after Mr. Obama leaves office, it will be this parade of explicators, laboring mightily to sell each new piece of official reality revisionism—Janet Napolitano and her immortal "man-caused disasters'' among them—that will stand most memorably as the face of this administration.


It is a White House that has focused consistently on the sensitivities of the world community—as it is euphemistically known—a body of which the president of the United States frequently appears to view himself as a representative at large.


It is what has caused this president and his counterterrorist brain trust to deem it acceptable to insult Americans with nonsensical evasions concerning the enemy we face. It is this focus that caused Mr. Holder to insist on holding the trial of Khalid Sheikh Mohammed in lower Manhattan, despite the rage this decision induced in New Yorkers, and later to insist if not there, then elsewhere in New York. This was all to be a dazzling exhibition for that world community—proof of Mr. Obama's moral reclamation program and that America had been delivered from the darkness of the Bush years.


It was why this administration tapped officials like Michael Posner, assistant secretary of state for Democracy, Human Rights, and Labor. Among his better known contributions to political discourse was a 2005 address in which he compared the treatment of Muslim-Americans in the United States after 9/11 with the plight of the Japanese-Americans interned in camps after Pearl Harbor. During a human-rights conference held in China this May, Mr. Posner cited the new Arizona immigration law by way of assuring the Chinese, those exemplary guardians of freedom, that the United States too had its problems with discrimination.


So there we were: America and China, in the same boat on human rights, two buddies struggling for reform. For this view of reality, which brought withering criticism in Congress and calls for his resignation, Mr. Posner has been roundly embraced in the State Department as a superbly effective representative.


It is no surprise that Mr. Posner—like numerous of his kind—has found a natural home in this administration. His is a sensibility and political disposition with which Mr. Obama is at home. The beliefs and attitudes that this president has internalized are to be found everywhere—in the salons of the left the world over—and, above all, in the academic establishment, stuffed with tenured radicals and their political progeny. The places where it is held as revealed truth that the United States is now, and has been throughout its history, the chief engine of injustice and oppression in the world.


They are attitudes to be found everywhere, but never before in a president of the United States. Mr. Obama may not hold all, or the more extreme, of these views. But there can be no doubt by now of the influences that have shaped him. They account for his grand apology tour through the capitals of Europe and to the Muslim world, during which he decried America's moral failures—her arrogance, insensitivity. They were the words of a man to whom reasons for American guilt came naturally. Americans were shocked by this behavior in their newly elected president. But he was telling them something from those lecterns in foreign lands—something about his distant relation to the country he was about to lead.


The truth about that distance is now sinking in, which is all to the good. A country governed by leaders too principled to speak the name of its mortal enemy needs every infusion of reality it can get.


Ms. Rabinowitz is a member of the Journal's editorial board.

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From the upcoming release starring Ryan Reynolds as Hal Jordan.


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Thor Concept Art Surfaces

Posted by T. BARNES On 6:22 PM 0 comments


To go along with the recent release of the Captain America concept art and the recent film clip of Chris Hemsworth as Thor we now have the full body concept art of the Thunder God himself for the soon to be released Kenneth Branagh film of the same title.  Check it out gang.




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Christie speaks in Washington DC, calling Newark schools 'absolutely disgraceful'

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by Greg Gutfeld

So, on his t.v. show last week, Bill Maher accused our President of not acting like a "real black president," because he wasn't carrying a piece in his pants, when dealing with BP.


Check it out, check it outers.


"I thought when we elected a black president, we were going to get a black president. You know, this [BP oil spill] is where I want a real black president. I want him in a meeting with the BP CEOs, you know, where he lifts up his shirt where you can see the gun in his pants. That's -- 'we've got a m*therf*cking problem here?' Shoot somebody in the foot."

"I thought when we elected a black president, we were going to get a black president."

Translation: when he means black, he means a pimp, a gangbanger - a stereotype of both lowered jeans and expectations. He wants a novelty black - once seen in 1970's cop shows, selling reefer and hookers. But Maher's defense will be typical of the white liberal racist: it was meant to be a compliment! Blacks are cooler than white people! They have guns!

Which Bill no doubt believes. Because unlike a lot of law abiding blacks - Maher doesn't live among criminals who do have guns in their pants. From his Brentwood pad, the gangbanger is just an arousing abstraction - instead of someone who shot his kid in the face.

And this points out another hypocrisy of the guilt-drenched lefty: white people with guns, bad. Black people with guns? Bad! But in a good, Samuel Jackson-kind-of-way!

Maher's comments are well-meaning, of course - but aren't they just like saying black men are always well-endowed, and can play basketball? It's all harmless- just ask Jimmy the Greek.


Remember him? Back in 1988, he was the sportscaster who said blacks "can jump higher and run faster because of their bigger thighs." He got canned for that one.

Not that Maher should or will be fired - he's a white lefty, so the white lefty press gives him a pass.

But hey, if we had - statistically speaking - a REALLY black president, maybe Maher would hate him. According to polls, African Americans are nowhere as progressive as our Gradstudent-in chief. But Maher doesn't know those blacks. A black man voting Republican who runs a small business? To Maher, that's science fiction. He prefers his African American in one flavor: Huggy Bear.

And if you disagree with me, you're a racist homophobe who once dated Bombshell Magee.

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This may be the first look at Captain America.





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