Prior to the advent of Ebonics, I could never figure out how “Arithmetic” became one leg of the tripod of learning known as the three R’s. As a matter of fact, “Writing” didn’t make much sense either until I realized that schoolteachers were mostly pushers trying to get the kids hooked on phonics. Now Hollywood has co-opted the letter “C” to describe a triumvirate of Crazy Motherfuckers, namely Cruise, Crowe and Chapelle.

Tom Cruise has been raising eyebrows with his aggressive proselytizing, now that girlfriend Katie Holmes has joined the Scientologists. Stephen Spielberg (Jew) even allowed the cult to maintain a presence on the set of “War of the Worlds.” Cruise has become increasingly erratic, jumping up and down on Oprah’s interview couch, though to be fair, it is no easy task figuring out exactly where Oprah ends and the couch begins. Nonetheless, producers (read: Jews) are publicly debating pulling the plug on “Mission: Impossible III.” And all this over a girl? US Weekly’s Katrina Szish avers, “This can’t be real,” while Tom’s sister avows, “He’s just really, really happy.” Is “happy” code for “gay?” Is Tom’s love spasm all a ruse? Don Imus thinks so despite McCauley Culkin’s adamant denials of childhood molestation.

Russell Crowe left little room for interpretation when he smashed a telephone into the eye of a Manhattan hotel clerk. The actor, arrested for second-degree assault, is apparently no stranger to violence. In 2002, Scotland Yard officers responded to reports of Crowe slugging it out with a restaurant patron only months after he tackled producer Malcom Gerrie at an awards show. Crowe has also admitted to attacking his own bodyguard. (Memo to Russell: Kick-ass security detail dangerous, check availability of Tom Cruise.)

Comedian Dave Chapelle suddenly vanished during the taping of his hit Comedy Central show, leaving his wife and children in the dark. Rumors of a stint in rehab were put to rest a week later when Chapelle curiously turned up in South Africa. “I’m not crazy, I’m not smoking crack,” he protested, citing as evidence of his emotional stability the “many voices jockeying for position in [my] mind.” He further explained, “I figured, let me just cut myself off from everybody, take a minute and pull a Flintstone.” (Memo to Barney Rubble: beware tall black man who looks out of place in Bedrock.)

John Cusack fans needn’t sweat; bad things come in threes. Like the Dixie Chicks or rejections of the European Constitution. French voters were first to defeat the continental referendum though they were provoked in the main by their own faltering economy. Prime Minister Jean-Pierre Raffarin took the fall, prompting his counterpart in the Netherlands (whose ballot would soon follow) to boast, “The Dutch, of course, do not take any orders from France.” Or perhaps they do. The Dutch, days later, voted “no” by an even wider margin, still smarting from a currency devaluation and implementation of mandated fiscal austerity measures blatantly ignored by France and Germany. The real animus, however, was fear over Turkey’s EU application and the prospect of 80 million Muslims swamping centuries old European cultures. Tony Blair’s government saw the writing on the wall and suspended a vote altogether, with Foreign Secretary Jack Straw telling Parliament, “We see no point in proceeding at this moment.” Former European Commission president Roman Prodi described the defeat as a “disaster” which brings “the end of Europe.”

If Rep. John Conyers (D-MI), the ranking Democrat on the House Judiciary Committee, has his way, the Western Hemisphere, too, will suffer three political upheavals. Conyers needs just one more president tossed out of office this year to make his mark. He professes that in light of the Downing Street memo, Mr. Bush is eligible for impeachment under Article II, Section 4 of the U.S. Constitution for lying to Congress. Not even considering the $8.5 billion siphoned from the Coalition Provisional Authority by his campaign supporters, the President has clearly committed high crimes against the United States. So he should, argues Conyers, join Ecuadorian President Lucio Gutiérrez (IMF lackey) and Bolivian President Carlos Mesa (oil industry puppet) in the unemployment line if not behind bars.

With the Republicans’ iron grip on Washington, the prospect of George doing hard time is pure fantasy. Not so for patients who are prescribed medical marijuana by their doctors. In a crushing defeat for stoners and states’ rights advocates alike, the Supreme Court ruled that federal statutes banning pot supersede any state laws allowing its use. In her dissent, Justice Sandra Day O’Connor argued, “The states’ core police powers have always included authority to define criminal law and to protect the health, safety, and welfare of their citizens.” She was joined in her opinion by Chief Justice Rehnquist, who added, “This specious ruling is at the same time totally harsh and completely bogus.” The edict is especially hard to swallow given the Court’s recent affirmation of interstate wine sales. Allowing vintners to ship directly to consumers (i.e. uncontrolled distribution) is the greatest boon to alcoholism since Prohibition was repealed by the 21st Amendment. But John Paul Stevens sees the ganja differently: Cases like Limbaugh v. Florida “have taught us that there are some unscrupulous physicians who over prescribe when it is sufficiently profitable to do so.”

California Atty. Gen. Bill Lockyer, far from a bleeding liberal, lamented the decision. “Taking medicine on the recommendation of a doctor for a legitimate illness should not be a crime. There is something very wrong with a federal law that treats medical marijuana the same as heroin.” Valerie Corral, founder of the Santa Cruz reefer collective summed it up best, “It’s not as if this decision wipes out cancer and ends AIDS and everyone in a wheelchair can now get up and dance.” Of course if John Ashcroft were still Attorney General he’d pass a law against that too.

During his second debate with John Kerry, President Bush warned us that re-importing prescription drugs from Canada was a deadly proposition. It would prove more insidious, he argued, than COX II inhibitors and more dangerous than Medicare negotiating bulk discounts with American pharmaceutical companies. Nobody really believed the president, certainly not after all that puffery regarding Weapons of Mass Destruction. Yet here we are nine months later, with the facts, amazingly, bearing him out.

The CBC has disclosed that 4,000 Canadian seniors die each year from adverse drug reactions. Countless others continue to suffer horrible side effects. Frighteningly, health care professionals up north are more concerned about themselves than a bunch of old coots with one foot in the grave. One pharmacist complained, “The burden on the health-care system is enormous. If they require an intervention with a professional, that’s a cost.” Geriatrician Paula Rochon cavalierly admits, “A lot of people think that when people are older, they’re likely to have a lot of medical issues, so they dismiss it.” In other words, if they’re gonna die soon anyways, what’s all the stink about? Blithely spurning the pursuit of any remedy, Dr. Jim Wright of the University of British Columbia wistfully longs for the day when “there would be more acceptance of serious adverse events in the older population.”

Meanwhile, the Canadian Red Cross pled guilty to knowingly distributing blood tainted with HIV and Hepatitis C. Thousands perished in what John Platter of the Ontario Hemophilia Society calls “the worst public health disaster in this country’s history.” It first appeared, said Platter, that the episode was the result of a “terrible mistake” when “in fact, people broke the law.” Secretary General Dr. Pierre Dulpessis feigned contrition: “(The) Canadian Red Cross Society is deeply sorry for the injury and death … for the suffering caused to families and loved ones of those who were harmed.” Fittingly, authorities threw the book at the Red Cross, charging the organization as a public nuisance and hitting it up with a whopping $4,000 fine. When federal prosecutor John Ayre described the niggling penalty as “adequate,” he served to underscore Canadians’ blatant disregard for our cherished Culture of Life. But with the expiry of Hockey Night and Pete Coors pissing into their beloved Molson, can you really blame them?

Yet, America, too, is possessed of less-than-charming provincial behavior. With the demise of the European Union swamping the international media we are instead fixated on the revelation that “Deep Throat,” the informant who thirty years ago helped Woodward and Bernstein bring down the Nixon White House, was none other than FBI agent W. Mark Felt. What’s the big deal? Watergate is so far in the rear view mirror that Republicans now dominate every facet of government, practicing with impunity forms of corruption and election fraud only imagined by the likes of Haldeman, Agnew and Dean. And besides, I always though “Deep Throat” was Linda Sue Boreman. Also known as Linda Lovelace, “D.T.” starred in the 1972 eponymous porn film that grossed $600 million. Eschewing W.C. Fields’ caution against working with animals or children, Linda began her cinematic career three years earlier in the cult hit “Dog Fucker.”

Years later, Lovelace tried to disavow her legacy, claiming her husband got her hooked on drugs and forced her to perform acts of perversion. Recounting her story for the Meese Commission on Pornography, she stated, “When you see the movie, you are watching me being raped. It is a crime that movie is still showing; there was a gun to my head the entire time.” Labeled a traitor within “the industry,” she was scorned by former coworkers. Al Goldstein recalled: “She was a good cocksucker. She was a piece of shit… a hooker, a scumbag, a lying trollop. I dropped several ejaculations down her throat. I want to do a final load, so when she goes to hell my sperm will go with her.”

Sadly, Linda wrapped her car around a light post in 2002 and spent two weeks on life support before passing on. If Jeb Bush hadn’t been so consumed with Terri Schiavo, Linda might still be with us today. Regardless, she remains an integral part of my own coming of age, because as Woody Allen opined, sex without love is an empty experience, but as empty experiences go, it’s one of the best.

On Tuesday the House of Representatives approved legislation relaxing limits on embryonic stem cell research despite President Bush’s objection: “I’ve made it very clear to the Congress that the use of federal money, taxpayers’ money, to promote science which destroys life in order to save life – I’m against that. And therefore if the bill does that, I will veto it.” Later, surrounded by 21 test-tube babies gathered at the White House, Mr. Bush reiterated that he, alone, is best suited to interpret God’s will. He swore to protect “the lives of the embryos that will be destroyed in the process. The children here today are reminders that every human life is a precious gift of matchless value.” Not one of these kids, however, was created by some Immaculate Conception. Rather each was the product of brazen scientific manipulation, undertaken in the very fertility clinics where thousands of embryos are, without protest, discarded each year.

As if to counterpoint the president’s shortsightedness, South Korean scientists simultaneously announced the creation of 11 patient-specific stem cell lines. Using a technique known as nuclear transfer, genetic material from unrelated individuals was grafted into donor eggs. Tissue cultivated from these stem cells should, according to researchers, obviate tissue rejection and other complications of transplantation. Gerald Schatten of the University of Pittsburg declared: “This may be nature’s best repair kit.” Moreover, by utilizing this new process, the Koreans have overcome issues of contamination that have rendered useless the 22 preexisting stem cell lines approved by our dimwitted president. “It just opens up the floodgates of possibilities,” trumpeted Salk Institute professor of genetics Fred Gage. Including, I submit, the possibility that we cede our biotechnological preeminence the same way we fumbled away our manufacturing prowess.

Scientific studies have shown that even while drowning in the hormonal bath of puberty, a young boy will continue to furiously jack off despite repeated admonitions from the other side of the bathroom door that such activity is contraindicated for healthy eyesight. By now, everyone knows the maxim about excessive masturbation is a total fabrication. Or is it? In an alarming development, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration has disclosed that 40 men taking impotence medication have gone blind. “FDA is aware of these reports but has not determined there is a cause and effect due to use of Viagra,” noted FDA spokeswoman Susan Cruzan. Fortunately for penile-implanted Dick Cheney, the only side effects to manifest have been venality and cowardice. Nonetheless, Cruzan continued on to say, “We’re working with the company to make sure this information is available to doctors and patients.” Pfizer countered by stating that while non-arteritic anterior ischemic optic neuropathy (NAION) is extremely rare, “there is no evidence showing that NAION occurred more frequently in men taking Viagra than men of similar age and health who did not.” Dr. Michael Berelowitz, Pfizer’s vice president for worldwide medical, averred: “It’s quite hard to see causality” between the ED drug and any vision loss. “Perhaps,” he opined, “they shouldn’t be spankin’ it so hard.”

If you keep something in your closet long enough, it’s bound to come back in style. I suspect that as Aunt Bonnie offered her sagacity some thirty years ago, she was focused more on my bell-bottomed jeans than my penchant for sex with dead people, but still, the advice holds. Earlier this month, Mexican President Vicente Fox, indignant over a U.S. policy that bans illegal immigrants from obtaining a U.S. drivers license, said the following to a group of Texas businessmen: “There is no doubt that Mexicans, full of pride, willpower and desire to work, are doing jobs over there that not even blacks want to do.” Stopping just this side of labeling every African-American as shiftless, Mr. Fox reasserted the famous missive delivered in 1974 by the voluble Earl Butz (Gerald Ford’s Secretary of Agriculture) while on Air Force One: “I’ll tell you what the coloreds want. It’s three things: first, a tight pussy; second, loose shoes; and third, a warm place to shit.”

This particular verbiage saw Butz run out of Washington. But is it merely wishful thinking to imagine the rest of the Republicans in tow? A high-profile politician offered: “Should any political party attempt to abolish social security, unemployment insurance, and eliminate labor laws and farm programs, you would not hear of that party again in our political history. There is a tiny splinter group, of course, that believes you can do these things. Among them are…Texas oil millionaires and an occasional politician or businessman from other areas. Their number is negligible and they are stupid.” Although these words might have come from Sen. Barbara Boxer (D-CA) or Sen. Ted Kennedy (D-MA) during the recent privatization battle, they were actually delivered in 1954 by President Dwight D. Eisenhower. Not bad foresight for a guy who whacked it six times a day.

Earlier this month, Newsweek reported that U.S. interrogators at Guantanamo Bay flushed a Koran down a toilet. The news sparked riots from Afghanistan to Indonesia, prompting White House spokesman Scott McClellan to say, “The report has had serious consequences. People have lost their lives.” McClellan’s indignation, however, seemed out of proportion to the carnage: A paltry 16 deaths and 100 injuries won’t even take you through lunch in Baghdad. Besides, even Abu Musab al-Zarquai thinks “killing innocent Muslims” is no big deal. In a recent speech he decreed, “Protecting religion is more important than protecting lives. The shedding of Muslim blood … is allowed in order to avoid the greater evil of disrupting jihad.”

To make matters worse, the magazine subsequently retracted the story. The administration quickly pounced, calling the dispatch both inaccurate and irresponsible while at the same time blaming it for damaging the image of the United States. Condi Rice lamented, “It’s done a lot of harm.” But remember, Newsweek’s lone source, code named “forkball,” still insists he read the account in an investigative memo. The only question is whether it appeared within official military records. In other words, it probably did happen, and as for our tarnished image, I think the photos from Abu Ghraib already took care of that.

For two solid months President Bush plied the nation’s byways pimping the privatization of Social Security. He was, throughout, struggling against the headwinds emanating from Eliot Spitzer’s ass. The New York A.G. repeatedly exposed the financial malfeasance practiced by America’s investment banks, brokerage houses, mutual funds and insurance companies. Which doesn’t, frankly, leave a lot of other places to invest. Even those citizens unable to distinguish a 401(k) from a 10-Q are smart enough to know this: if Morgan Stanley loses all your money, you’ll be living in a cardboard box. Unless, of course, your name is Ron Perelman, in which case you get $1.5 billion for your idiocy.

The fatal blow to the President’s plan, however, was delivered by U.S. Bankruptcy Judge Eugene Wedoff. Wedoff ruled that United Airlines could, as part of its Chapter 11 reorganization, dump $9.8 billion of pension obligations onto a federal agency. Due to payout limits, the Pension Benefit Guaranty Corp. will assume only two thirds of that liability. But because the PBGC is already $23 billion in the hole, United retirees may well end up with nothing. In order to raise money for these pensioners, five current and former United Airlines flight attendants are selling $14.95 calendars showing themselves in various states of undress. Unfortunately the stews range in age from 55 to 64, and with their tits heading south faster than United’s profitability, sales should prove anything but brisk.

The real fear, of course, is that while Congress has severely curtailed personal bankruptcy relief, corporations will line up for this (somewhat watery) gravy train of cost abatement. Delta Airlines, carrying $5.8 billion of unfunded charges, is expected to go next. Not that bankruptcy necessarily spells a carrier’s demise. US Airways, currently in Chapter 11, is on the cusp of a merger with America West, with Airbus investing $250 million into the deal as a means of securing orders for 20 new A350 jets. With any luck, this kind of vendor financing will do for Airbus what it did for JDS Uniphase.

While General Motors’ credits have been downgraded to junk status, their pension funds are actually above water. The problem comes in the form of “other post-retirement benefits,” namely premiums for medical and life insurance policies. These OPEBs are now upside down to the tune of $58 billion, which is a HUGE inducement for GM (currently supporting 2.3 pensioners with each employee) to terminate their benefits package via bankruptcy or any other means.

That pilots and the government are at odds is now self-evident. Perhaps that is why a single engine Cessna violated the restricted airspace over Washington, D.C. last week. The plane actually flew over the vice president’s residence and was within minutes of reaching Pennsylvania Avenue when the White House alert level was raised from yellow to orange and then to red. Laura Bush and a visiting Nancy Regan were ushered into an underground bunker, while Dick Cheney returned to his infamous “undisclosed location.” Sirens blared, the Capitol and Supreme Court building were evacuated, and thousands of people suddenly found themselves in the streets. Overhead, two F-16s, who’s pilots were apparently unaware of the recent cuts in veteran’s benefits, fired warning shots and eventually directed the light plane to land at the Frederick airfield. The whole mess turned out to be nothing more than a navigational blunder yet the President, biking in rural Maryland, remained uninformed until well after the “all-clear” signal was given. Why it took 36 minutes to inform Mr. Bush of a possible terrorist attack was a matter of some consternation until Secret Service Agent Marv Bleeney sheepishly explained: “It took us that long to locate a copy of ‘My Pet Goat.’”

I guess good pedophiles are hard to find. Bishop Leonard Blair of the Toledo Catholic Diocese recently admitted that should Senate Bill 17 become law, it would “be of serious concern to all of us.” Blair is nervous that an amendment extending the statute of limitations against child-molesting clergy will turn northern Ohio into eastern Newfoundland, where the Diocese of St. Georges was forced to sell all their churches in order to compensate abuse victims. Without churches, mused the bishop, where would priests bugger all those little boys? Forget that vow of celibacy; these clerics aren’t about to give up one of their most cherished perks. Rev. Michael Billian, Episcopal vicar of the diocese, implored every priest and deacon within his ambit to “identify those lay members of your parish and community who might have some prominence or influence, and ask them to join you in writing their representatives to ask their help in defeating the amendment.”

With seminary enrollment falling faster than the Army’s recruitment numbers, the Church is clearly feeling the effects of competition from the secular world. While Jeb Bush is working tirelessly to get registered sex offenders out of prison and back on the streets, there’s only so much one man can do. Let’s face it; child molesters are in high demand – from Spokane’s city hall to the Boy Scouts of America. With all the layoffs in public education, it may not seem fair, but as Chief Justice William Rehnquist wrote in the summer of 2000: “We are not, as we must not be, guided by our views of whether the Boy Scouts’ teachings with respect to homosexual conduct are right or wrong.”

Over the last two decades, 1,151 scouts have reported receiving a Greek merit badge while 416 troop leaders have been arrested or banned from the organization. Take, for example, John Levendosky, who had “always been fascinated by bondage and servitude.” Court records show that the assistant scoutmaster took three boys to a campsite and “bound each boy’s hands together with rope and blindfolded [them].” Another former scout leader, Brad Stowell, molested 24 boys during his illustrious tenure. Stowell spinelessly admitted to violating his probation by touching both a young girl and two young boys, and is now on his way back to jail. Douglas S. Smith Jr., an ex-top BSoA official, pled guilty last month to one count of receiving and distributing child pornography, and faces 5 to 20 in the big house. These guys will be hard to replace. Especially with posers like John Hemstreet who served four years for molesting a boy “who wasn’t even a scout.” Times may be lean, but standards simply must be maintained.

In Spokane, Republican Mayor Jim West is taking a leave of absence after being caught trolling for 18-year-old boys on the Internet. Last summer, according to published reports, West went on a dinner date (read: ass-eating festival) with another 18-year-old he met in a gay chat room. Using the online moniker RightBi-Guy, Hizzoner picked up 24-year-old Ryan Oelrich, who he later appointed to the city Human Rights Commission. Oelrich, who turned down $300 for a nude synchronized swim, claims he knows another five or six young gay men who also received sexual advances from the mayor. More sobering are the two men who told a local newspaper that Big Jim – then a sheriff – molested them when they were boys in the 1970s.

As Washington’s state Senate leader, West voted for the Defense of Marriage Act and consistently opposed efforts to extend civil rights to homosexuals. So what gives? Was his public deportment an attempt to mask his private depravities? Predictably, the mayor denies all the allegations, but acknowledges that he has had relations (read: gobbled day-old Kung Pao chicken) with adult men. He also disputed a city councilwoman’s assertion that he boasted of masturbating in his office. West clarified that he was in fact talking on the phone at home when he came all over his shoes.