The FlynnFiles holiday season tradition of "best of" lists continues! My long, slow divorce from the popular culture progressed this year. I'm less "with it," and perhaps so is my list. My apologies to songs unfairly omitted. Feel free to make your own list in the comments section. Here are the ten best songs (that I heard) this past year:

10. Cold December, Matt Costa
9. Fidelity, Regina Spektor
8. This River Is Wild, The Killers
7. Window in the Skies, U2
6. Turn Into, The Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs
5. Crazy, Gnarls Barkley
4. Vampyre, Pete Yorn
3. Man in a Purple Dress, The Who
2. When You Were Young, The Killers
1. Cheated Hearts, The Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs

Don't player hate. Player participate. Let's see your list.

YouTube, Drudge, MichelleMalkin, and sites beyond broadcast the Saddam execution video. No thanks! FlynnFiles isn't Faces of Death. Get that gore elsewhere, if at all. The best I can do is link to the Gallows Pole off Led Zeppelin III. If that's not good enough, and you really, really, really want to see Saddam Hussein executed, then watch Eric Cartman do it seven years before the Iraqis did it. Life imitates art.

So, Iraqis don't mete out justice the way Americans do. Whether it's preferable to wait seventeen years to execute a murderer or to rush for the hangman's noose a few months after the verdict is open for debate. So is the whole notion of capital punishment. What seems beyond debate is Saddam Hussein's guilt. He ordered the deaths of untold thousands. Many more died in a less direct manner because of his policies of war and oppression. He lived by the sword. He died by it too. On Saturday--in Iraq, not the U.S.--the Iraqi government executed the former Iraqi head of state. There may be violent repurcussions in Iraq as a result of Hussein's execution. Elsewhere, there may be non-violent ones. Might Saddam Hussein have thought twice had there been precedent for punishing murderers who run states? Alas, the state, somewhat unsurprisingly, has shown a greater enthusiasm for punishing those who rebel against it than punishing those who use the state for lawlessness.

It's the last week of a the regular season, which is always tough to pick. Who will come to play? Collapse? Rest? All picks are against the spread. Home teams are in caps. Here are my selections: Giants -2 over REDSKINS, RAVENS -9 over Bills, Packers +3 over BEARS, BENGALS -6 over Steelers, COWBOYS -12.5 over Lions, TEXANS -4 over Browns, COLTS -9 over Dolphins, CHEIFS -2.5 over Jaguars, Rams -2 over VIKINGS, SAINTS +3 over Panthers, JETS -12 over Raiders, EAGLES -8 over Falcons, SEAHAWKS +3.5 over Bucs, Patriots +3 over TITANS, Niners +11 over BRONCOS, and Cards +13.5 over CHARGERS. Make your picks in the comments section.

Gerald Ford served as president during the lowest period of the American Century. One can't blame him for the circumstances that made it so. He didn't start the Vietnam War. Along with Richard Nixon, he presided over its conclusion. His 1976 running mate famously referred to it, and the U.S.'s other wars during the American Century, as "Democrat wars." He had nothing to do with Watergate. He had a lot to do with putting it behind us. He seemed as far from the sixties counterculture as one could get. Yet, during his presidency America suffered from the hangover that the counterculture caused. Ford suffered from it personally, as two sixties people in the seventies tried to kill him. Though he lamely vowed to Whip Inflation Now, the flatlining economy whipped him. Ultimately, at least as president, Ford's name will be attached to such trivia as "the only un-elected president" and "the longest living president." Though a relatively insignificant president, Ford's career in congress was anything but that. He served in the House for nearly a quarter century. For eight of those years, Ford served as House minority leader. From that post, he led opposition, what little there was, to much of Lyndon Johnson's Great Society (Johnson frequently joked that Ford had played too much football without a helmet at Michigan). After enduring a surfeit of "great" men in the office of the president, the American people received Gerald Ford as president when they needed a good man. Gerald Ford, president, vice president, House minority leader, Warren Commission member, All-American football player, World War II veteran, rest in peace.

I don't blame Led Zeppelin for hair metal, though enthusiasts of that genre pointed to the English quartet as their inspiration. Likewise, I don't blame James Brown for rap, though the riffs, grooves, and grunts of his work permeate the genre, particularly in its sample-happy early years. How could anyone blame James Brown for anything, especially after hearing Get on the Good Foot? A junior-high dropout from South Carolina, Brown paid tribute to America at the same time he celebrated his blackness. "Say it loud/I'm black and I'm proud," African American school children sang on one his most famous tunes. Unlike W.E.B. Du Bois, Brown did not find being black and being American "two warring ideals." Brown was the total package: he danced, he sang, he preached, he wore larger-than-life get-ups and hair-don'ts. He was the ultimate showman. Dubbed the hardest working man in show businesses, the sweat on his brow attested to it and his live audiences believed it. So did those at his death bed. On Christmas, Brown vowed to get well for his New Year's Eve Show. He'll be playing the bandstand in the sky. James Brown, rest in peace.

"Political rights do not originate in parliaments; they are rather forced upon them from without. And even their enactment into law has for a long time been no guarantee of their security. They do not exist because they have been legally set down on a piece of paper, but only when they have become the ingrown habit of a people, and when any attempt to impair them will meet with the violent resistance of the populace."
--Rudolph Rocker, Anarcho-Syndicalism, 1902

Congratulations to Billiam who stormed into the AYRFSF victory circle in week fifteen with a 12-4 record. Give props to Billiam while trying to decleat him. Home teams are in caps. All picks are against the spread. Here are my selections: PACKERS -3.5 over Vikings, RAIDERS +6.5 over Chiefs, BILLS -4.5 over Titans, Saints +3 over GIANTS, FALCONS -6 over Panthers, Redskins +2.5 over RAMS, Colts -9 over TEXANS, STEELERS -3 over Ravens, BROWNS -3 over Bucs, Bears -4.5 over LIONS, Patriots +2.5 over Jaguars, NINERS -4 over Cards, BRONCOS -3 over Bengals, Chargers -5 over SEAHAWKS, and, on Christmas Day, COWBOYS -7 over Eagles and Jets +2 over DOLPHINS. Make your picks in the comments section.

I'm going away from FlynnFiles for a while to complete work on my forthcoming book. Posting will be sporadic until sometime after the new year, when time becomes more cooperative. Instead of a few posts a day, readers will be getting a few posts a week (in addition to the football pool and worth repeating, which will appear mid-week). I encourage you to continue to visit the site, and comment. I also encourage you to lower your expectations. Stay with me and I'll reward with some excellent material in the new year.

My deadline approaches. Concentrating exclusively on the book becomes necessary. Doing otherwise would be cheating my readers, both of the book and the blog. It would also be cheating myself: books pay, blogs don't.

I've done away with quite a few distractions on the road to writing my third book. Fifteen months ago, I did away with my job. That delivered hours and hours of free time. It had the annoying side effect, however, of denying me a bi-monthly paycheck. I miss the money. I don't miss the wasted time.

I did away with home for a while. The idea of writing in a foreign country where I couldn't converse with people, understand what was being said on television, and sleep in a comfortable bed proved so appealing that I spent several weeks in the Czech Republic, Poland, and Austria during the coldest part of the winter. Much was accomplished over good beer and better architecture.

Four months ago, I did away with cable television. Since my TV has no antenna, I did away with all television (save VCR tapes and DVDs) when I did away with cable television. I don't miss it. I'm not a TV snob. In fact, the TV I did watch when I could watch was the "bottomest" of the bottom of the barrell: reality television, fighting, music videos, etc. The way I look at it: if you want television to be like reading a book, you shouldn't be watching television in the first place. Just read a book. But in turning on the TV one agrees to turn off one's brain. Even brains need rest, so I don't object to television on stupidity grounds. I object to it, at least right now, on time wasting grounds. I need to focus on one task. The more distractions eliminated, the easier accomplishing that task becomes.

At around the same time I killed my television, I did away with the Internet. Yes, you read that correctly. I am a blogger without Internet access. Wi-Fi signals tend to invade the space around the laptop, and libraries offer many free services. When people ask me about book writing, they often bring up the Internet, and suggest how much easier it must make writing a book. It doesn't, at least for me. The Internet is a distraction. In a few ways, the Internet makes life easier. Databases such as JSTOR and Nexis allow for instant retrieval of articles on any given subject. Obtaining a specific book, too, is greatly simplified through Amazon. But I am just not disciplined enough to stop there. I surf over to ESPN.com. I read up on an obscure Doctor Who episode. I need to know what was the bestselling Clash album. I wish I could limit my time online to the things I need. But I'm human, not computer.

I even did away with normal grooming habits. On Wednesday, I got my second haircut since August '05. Until ten days ago, I sported a beard. I assure you: it was more Grizzly Adams than A.J. McLean. I've treated showers much like the Wicked Witch of the West. Either haircuts, shaving, and showering seemed like unproductive activities, or not doing them fooled me into thinking that I was really being productive.

The Christmas season is a good time for a hiatus. Even the most devout readers are distracted. I am too, with the holidays and with my project. Additionally--and this may just be me--but the news has been pretty boring as of late. I can't create a full house with the cards the news gods have dealt me. I certainly can't do this with my mind on another matter.

That other matter is a book on the American Left that Crown Forum will publish. As the release date approaches--look for a Spring '08 drop--I'll get more specific. The book is wider in scope than my previous offerings. It's more than double the size of Why the Left Hates America. Along with a longer book will come shorter chapters. I'm thinking 23 or so chapters; 17 are complete. Almost all of the writing, and most of the research, is done. The book is more thematic than the previous two. Though it's non-fiction, its characters are, well, characters. There are definitely some threads that run throughout. Above all, the topic is ambitious, almost brash.

It's been a blast. Research has taken me on numerous trips to the Library of Congress and Syracuse University's Bird Library, as well as a visit to the University of Virginia. I will be trekking off to the University of Michigan and New York University in February. Not everything is online; somethings never will be. Site research, in which writers make pilgrimages to depositories of private papers, therefore, will never go out of style. I've also conducted a number of interviews, though too few by my count. Writing has taken me to more exciting locales: Prague, Krakow, Salzburg, and points beyond. My European trip of January really stands as a turning point for me on this project. So much done in so little time in such pleasant surroundings. Less glamorous, though still personally exhiairating, have been my acquisitions at used bookstores. From Powell's in Portland, Oregon, to Second Story Books in Bethesda, Maryland, to the Lyrical Ballad Bookstore in Saratoga Springs, New York, to Henry Pordes Books on Charing Cross Road in London, to Shakespeare and Sons in Prague, I have had the pleasure of purchasing many obscure, out-of-print books at bargain-basement prices in locales spanning a third of the globe.

So this is the love that takes me away from FlynnFiles. Alas, we must, for a few weeks at least, not see each other so much. It's not your fault. It's me. I need more space. You have my permission to see other blogs. I won't consider it cheating. I just can't give you what you need right now. Stop by for a few booty calls. But, for now at least, we need to stop going steady. We can still be friends, right?

"This is the history of governments,--one man does something which is to bind another. A man who cannot be acquainted with me, taxes me; looking from afar at me ordains that a part of my labor shall go to this or that whimsical end,--not as I, but as he happens to fancy."
--Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essays: Second Series, 1844

Fudgie D. Whale reigned supreme in week fourteen with an impressive 13-3 record. The Pats, Jets, and Seahawks kept him from perfection. Offer congratulations to FDW while seeking to dethrone him. ALERT: THURSDAY and SATURDAY games. Home teams are in caps. All picks are against the spread. Here are my selections: Niners +10 over SEAHAWKS, FALCONS -3.5 over Cowboys, VIKINGS -3 over Jets, Browns +11 over RAVENS, PATRIOTS -11 over Texans, BILLS -1 over Dolphins, PANTHERS +2.5 Steelers, SAINTS -10 over Redskins, TITANS +3.5 over Jaguars, Bucs -13.5 over BEARS, GIANTS -5.5 over Eagles, PACKERS -5 over Lions, Broncos -2.5 over CARDS, CHARGERS -8.5 over Chiefs, RAIDERS -2.5 over Rams, and, on Monday Night Football, COLTS -3.5 over Bengals. Make your selections in the comments section.

Aside from its people, Boston is a beautiful city. But it boasts one really, really ugly building: city hall. As an architectural vision of what the state actually is, I applaud the design. It's honest. But I already know how ugly and monstrous the state is, and I don't care to be reminded of it. Boston city hall is grosser than UMass-Boston, which appears as a series of red-brick AT-AT Walkers from The Empire Strikes Back. Dare I say that city hall is more vile than the Cambridge courthouse, a place whose facade also reflects its internal dealings. Now comes word that Thomas Menino, mayor of Boston since 1993, hopes to sell city hall and the accompanying land--located right outside Faneuil Hall--to private developers. This will give the city a windfall of income and do away with its most unsightly blemish all in one stroke. There is no downside. Given time, thirteen years in this case, even very dim people are capable of very bright ideas.

NRO hosts a neat symposium on the problemmatic Pinochet, a figure who saved Chile from Salvador Allende (a man on the KGB dole) but killed a few thousand people in the process. Anthony Daniels opines: "The reason Augusto Pinochet was universally hated by leftists and many academics worldwide was not because he was so brutal or killed so many people (he hardly figured among the 20th century’s most prolific political killers, admittedly a difficult company to get into) but because he was so successful." Thor Halvorssen weighs in: "Inspired by the Chilean congressional vote to remove Salvador Allende from power, Augusto Pinochet took full control of Chile — by force. He shut down parliament, suffocated political life, banned trade unions, and made Chile his sultanate. His government disappeared 3,000 opponents, arrested 30,000 (torturing thousands of them), and controlled the country until 1990.... Pinochet’s name will forever be linked to the Desaparecidos, the Caravan of Death, and the institutionalized torture that took place in the Villa Grimaldi complex." Mario Loyola points out: "Pinochet did something else that few dictators ever do: Upon losing by a small margin in a plebiscite that pitted him against the entire spectrum of political opposition, he resigned. The crimes of Pinochet may be unpardonable. But at least he tried to redeem them. We shouldn't be surprised by the number of Chileans who are still thankful for that." Otto Reich concludes the discussion: "With some compassion and self-discipline, Pinochet could have been remembered as a liberator and not a despot. He was both."

An Opinion Research Poll shows Hillary Clinton (37%) with a substantial lead over possible candidate Barack Obama (15%), and probable candidates Al Gore (14%) and John Edwards (9%). On the Republican side, Rudy Giuliani (29%) and John McCain (24%) are neck and neck, with Newt Gingrich (13%) and Mitt Romney (6%) trailing. Some thoughts: Hillary Clinton is clearly the candidate to beat. But one wonders what happens to her support when Al Gore makes an issue of her support for the war in Iraq. By virtue of her very public life, she is practically immune to a scandal derailing her candidacy. The issues, where she has tried to cynically play both sides all too often, can work against her. So can the desire of Democrats, who've been out of the White House for eight long years, to actually win in November '08. The anti-war southernor Gore, who has been cultivating the Deaniacs during his time in the wilderness, is in the best position to do this. The GOP primaries are ripe for a conservative candidate to exploit the plenitude of moderate to liberal Republicans in the race. The frontrunner Rudy, for instance, is on the wrong side of illegal immigration and gay marriage--not to mention the war (mea culpa, I mentioned it!). The pack lacks a conservative who stokes the fires of primary voters. It's there for the taking. The question is: is there a credible conservative with the ability to take it?

CNN, 12/10/06: "Former Chilean dictator Pinochet dies at 91." In a search of dozens of articles on CNN.com, I could find no CNN mention of Fidel Castro as a dictator--the term the network applies to both Castro's predecessor and Augusto Pinochet. Instead, CNN calls Castro "president" and "leader."

Twenty-four years ago this week, I saw The Who give their farewell concert on pay-per view. Home-based pay-per-view seemed pretty novel. Even in the years following that farewell concert, fans would jam theaters and arenas for closed-ciruit TV broadcasts of wrestling, boxing, and concerts. But we had the luxury of watching this event at home. My oldest brother, and some of his high-school friends, pooled resources to watch. The cable company charged $10, which my brother earnestly informs me was a lot of money in those days. Being nine, I sponged. HBO rebroadcast that Toronto concert ad infinitum as a reminder to me that, by accident of a late birth, I had missed my opportunity to see The Who live. Oh, the injustice!

Nearly a quarter-century after The Who's farewell concert from Toronto, I have seen The Who a half-dozen times or so. I caught The Who, perhaps for the last time, this past weekend at the new Boston Garden (I stopped keeping track of its ever-changing corporate name). Only two remain, as their show-closer Tea & Theatre remind, but I'm so grateful that they carried on so that people my age and younger could get to see them. The Who and their older fans, I'm sure, are grateful that they carried on if just to remind all these seemingly respectable people who they were thirty years ago.

The Who came on my radar screen when I was very young. In 1979, I had heard that teenagers ripped apart the local movie house that screened the film The Kids Are Alright. Teenagers, who seemed more ominous and menacing in the late '70s, tore out seats, fought, and engaged in general mayhem as the movie played. That this occured shortly after the overdose death of drummer Keith Moon, and the horrible stampede that left eleven dead at a Cincinnati Who concert, probably heightened interest my in The Who. Friends also apprised me that the Guiness Book of World Records considered The Who the loudest band of all time. All this and they smashed their instruments--or at least they did at one time.

Anarchy on drums, thunder on bass, a ball of energy as a frontman, and an angry young man writing the songs, The Who amplified a loud, agressive sound. Their collection of songs was as diverse as Roger Daltrey's haircuts: anthems (My Generation, Long Live Rock, Join Together), novelty pieces (I'm a Boy, Squeeze Box), 150-second pop songs (The Kids Are Alright, Substitute). They offered everything save the thing every other band offered: the love song. Along with the unique music came iconic rock imagery: Pete Townshend's windmill guitar, Roger Daltrey wildly swinging the microphone, Keith Moon kicking over his drum kit. The Who (along with The Kinks) gave us the power chord, invented something called the "rock opera," inspired punks, issued the most rock line in all of rock ("I hope I die before I get old"), played Woodstock and Monterey Pop, trashed hotel rooms, and, if you believe Pete Townshend, "were the first band to vomit in the bar and find the distance to the stage too far." Elvis sang songs for you to fall in love to. The Stones played songs for you to party to. Pink Floyd played songs for you to hallucinate to. The Who played songs for you to beat people up to. The Who epitomized the music of youth--alienated youth, which is the spirit of rock n roll all the way back to Rock Around the Clock in Blackboard Jungle. Perhaps that is why Who music survived when The Who didn't. It's timeless because the supply of teenagers is endless.

"What's all this about?," I thought after hearing about the mayhem unleashed by local teenage Who fans. I listened to The Beatles, and couldn't comprehend anyone reacting to their music in such a violent manner. Who were these Who guys? A few years later, with the proceeds from my paper route, I picked up Pete Townshend's All the Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes (along with Men at Work's Business As Usual) as my first record purchase (although in those days we bought tapes, not records). My older brothers, captives of the previous age, still bought actual records, and like The Who pay-per-view event, I sponged off their collection. More than just a tale of mods and rockers, Quadrophenia seemed the soundtrack for teenagers everywhere. I took in The Kids Are Alright, Meaty Beaty Big and Bouncy, Hooligans, and so many other "hits" collections that, unfortunately, mar the Who catalogue. Even It's Hard, with its overdone, period synthesizers and updated cover of a Tommy-like kid playing a video game instead of a pinball machine, spun in constant rotation on my cellar's turntable. With Pete Townshend constantly shouting, "I want my MTV" on ads for the channel, The Who seemed very current to me in 1982. But then, amidst some severe drug problems from Townshend and with Daltrey complaining about replacement drummer Kenney Jones's play, they broke up. Like most kids experiencing the music drought of the early 1980s, I had a favorite group that no longer existed.

But as the song says, breaking up is hard to do. The Who returned for a massive tour in 1989, and I jumped at the chance to see them at one of their two sold-out shows at Sullivan Stadium (or was it Schaeffer Stadium or Foxboro Stadium?). It was my first concert, and the parking-lot atmosphere couldn't be beat--except by the concert itself. We were fifteen, and the concert-goers had no problem selling us beers, giving us beers, drinking beers with us. It was great. For the first time, my friends and I did not fear the police chasing us for drinking. The concert experience, I learned, was only experienced in part inside the venue.

I remember Love Reign O'er Me, Who Are You, and Won't Get Fooled Again as show highlights. Accompanying the latter track, during the keyboard parts, were a couple of jumbotrons with the Stars and Stripes and the Union Jack dancing and meshing, and then, when the drums kicked in, projecting an unforgettable tribute to Keith Moon. The sound of each drum coincided with an individual still picture of the fallen drummer. He wasn't there, but you felt as though he watched over it all.

Eight years later, I heard that The Who would be playing Quadrophenia, my favorite Who album, that night at Nissan Pavilion in Virginia. I was no longer a high-school student. I was part of the work force, and far from home. I lobbied co-workers to go, but got no takers. "The Who?" I would not be denied. I went solo, along with a six-pack of Bud and a pack of Swisher Sweets. The tailgating action seemed a lot less festive than I remembered it in the late '80s. Gestapo-like security patrolled the parking lot in golf carts, confiscating beer and generally hassling concert goers. I asked the people in the next space if I could have a plastic cup. Coldly, with a stack of cups in plain view, they said "No." Fearing beer confiscation, I got out one of my Marine canteens and drank from it. Not only did I have the satisfaction of keeping my beer, but I also witnessed the beer Gestapo confiscate a case of beer from the misers who refused my petition for a plastic cup. Karma. Instant.

Something had happened in the eight years in which I had last seen Pete, Roger, and John. At Foxboro, 60,000 people crammed in to see a group that hadn't released an album in seven years, and then they did the same thing two nights later. In Virginia, the 15,000-capacity amphitheater didn't even sell out. I listened to radio regularly, but hadn't heard about The Who concert until a few hours before the opening notes. Classic rock, especially classic rock radio stations, had diminished in the 1990s. But, specifically, so had interest in The Who. They stopped releasing albums with the unfairly maligned It's Hard, and they refused to keep up with touring every few years as had their contemporaries The Rolling Stones. The audiences, predictably, shrank. I kept going.

I converted my wife into a Who fan at one such show. Apart from the powerhouse live set, Roger Daltrey's fountain-of-youth looks impressed her. I dealt with a personal tragedy immediately before a Who concert (a few weeks after The Who had experienced the tragedy of losing bassist John Entwhisle) in the Fall of 2002, and experienced catharsis by going to the show. And, lo and behold, last weekend, with money tight, a free Who ticket--via my brother via a client via Clear Channel--drops in my lap.

It was the fifth or sixth time I had seen The Who since their official "break-up" when I was nine. I caught Eminence Front live for the first time (If that opening doesn't give you chills, then you might not be alive). The Seeker was another blast-from-the-past surprise. An extended version of My Generation, that included the It's Hard deep cut Cry If You Want, made for a highlight, especially with the accompanying "My Generation" video of sixties youth interspersed with, what appeared to be, tribal dancing from the African bush, punk rockers slam dancing, youth warrior rituals from Polynesia, breakdancing from the ghetto. Everyone's got a generation, I guess, was the message. The live audience seemed rather, well, live. All that exposure from CSI, movie soundtracks, Paul O'Neill approaching the plate, and car ads revitalized interest in The Who.

What made the show so special is that, for the first time since that '82 farewell tour, The Who tour in support of a new album. Having seen the "greatest hits" tours, I welcomed the chance to catch fresh material. The Who didn't disappoint--me, at least. They played ten songs off the new album. Man in a Purple Dress and Tea & Theatre, done with Townshend and Daltrey sans backing band, were excellent. Ten brand-new songs is a pretty bold move, particularly when faced with a "greatest hits" crowd.

This was not the audience that tore apart the local theater when they screened a Who movie in '79. Or, maybe it was--just a lot older. In front of me were two fiftysomething women: one balding, the other really overweight. They jumped, danced, and sang their voices horse. A few rows in front of them, two other ladies--apparently not having got the memo that arenas don't allow smoking any longer--sparked up several joints (They inhaled.). Maybe they thought such anti-smoking edicts did not apply to marijuana. I glimpsed one fat, bald, graying, bearded man escorting his grade-school-age son about the arena. The middle-aged trappings appeared to me as disguises for the people that they were thirty years ago. So this is what happens to rowdy teenagers from the 1970s? It would be as silly and unnatural for these people to tear apart the arena as it would be for Pete Townshend to continue to smash his guitar. But Pete Townshend used to smash his guitar. And these people who surrounded me, I suspected, used to tear theaters apart. I didn't let their graying appearance--the fans or The Who's--fool me. Neither did the management of the arena. They shut the beer off at 9:30 p.m, just a half hour after The Who took the stage. Our reputations, apparently, had preceded us.

Small business owners in New Orleans lost a big-screen TV here, a DVD player there. The biggest victim of Hurricane Katrina looters wasn't Best Buy, or Circuit City, or Radio Shack. It was Uncle Sam. The Government Accountability Office reported on Wednesday that the $1 billion estimate of fraudulent Katrina claims "is likely understated." What's more, the federal government lost about one in three laptops brought to the area and can't account for numerous global positioning system devices.

What a bunch of chumps! Well, on second thought, maybe not. They're not paying the tab, are they? There's a correlation between wasting money and earning money: People who didn't earn the money they have are more likely to waste the money they have.

George W. Bush did the wrong thing on Katrina, and got hammered for it--just for the wrong reasons. He lavished billions of dollars on the Big Easy, as if the federal government were an insurance company for insurance companies (and for people without insurance). The aid neither silenced his liberal critics nor meshed with the Constitution. Now we find out--not that we needed the GAO to tell us this--that in offering free money to hurricane victims, the federal government got taken. Andrea True sang "More, More, More," and, unfortunately, that's the lesson politicians will learn from Katrina--even in the wake of the fraud, waste, and abuse. The next president will try to outdo the last one. And there will be more fraud, waste, and abuse. If it's a Democrat in the Oval Office, people will again regain their senses and blame Mother Nature instead of the Great White Father for the natural disaster's destruction.

"The DC looters have the gall to label their acts 'charity,'" I wrote last year. "The Big Easy looters were at least honest enough to concede their smash-and-grabs constituted theft." You may not know it, but if you pay taxes you were the victim of a Hurricane Katrina smash-and-grab.

"A faith is not acquired by reasoning. One does not fall in love with a woman, or enter the womb of a church, as a result of logical persuasion. Reason may defend an act of faith--but only after the act has been committed, and the man committed to the act."
--Arthur Koestler, The God That Failed, 1950

First he came for the gun owners and I did not speak out because I owned a mere water pistol. Then he came for the smokers and I did not speak out because I was not a smoker. Then he came for the trans fats and I did not speat out because I was not a fatso. Then he came for me, and I wuz like: Shazam! Mayor Bloomberg, what took you so long? I's gots tons of bad habits.

Congratulations to ASDF, who went 10-6 to become week thirteen's AYRFSF champion. Congratulations to DocMcG, winner of the inaugural FlynnFiles survival pool. Doc, with three other competitors, made it to week seven and took the tiebreaker to week thirteen. That's a pretty impressive run, especially considering his bold week-one pick: The Arizona Cardinals. Offer your groveling words of praise to both champs while making your picks.

ALERT! THURSDAY GAME! Home teams are in caps. All picks are against the spread. Here are my selections: STEELERS -7.5 over Browns, CHIEFS -3 over Ravens, Falcons -3 over BUCS, Vikings +2.5 over LIONS, Titans +1.5 TEXANS, Giants +3 over PANTHERS, Saints +6.5 over COWBOYS, JETS -4 over Bills, JAGUARS +1.5 over Colts, Eagles -1 over REDSKINS, Raiders +11 over BENGALS, Patriots -3.5 over DOLPHINS, NINERS -5 over Packers, CARDS +3.5 over Seahawks, CHARGERS -7.5 over Broncos, and, on Monday Night Football, Bears -6.5 over RAMS. Make your picks in the comments section.

Did the Democrat sweep in November's elections really kill President Bush's legislative agenda? Or, did it breath new life into it? With Republicans controlling Congress, the president failed to grant amnesty to illegal aliens. Now, with Democrats in control of both the House and the Senate, the president's chances of legalizing the twelve to twenty million illegal immigrants in the United States are better than ever. From the No Child Left Behind Act to the creation of the Department of Homeland Security to McCain-Feingold anti-free speech campaign finance reform to the Medicare Prescription Drug Plan to amnesty for illegal aliens, the agendas of George W. Bush and his ostensible enemies in the Democratic Party have more in common than either care to admit.

Tim Carney writes in Human Events Online: "pro-choice Republicans represented 9% of the incumbents running on Election Day, but 35% of the incumbents losing on Election Day." None of the thirteen incoming House Republicans embrace the "pro-choice" label. Carney further informs that Planned Parenthood and NARAL Pro-Choice America donated to the campaigns of five Republicans (including three incumbents), who all lost. Reliable GOP pro-abortion votes Joe Schwarz, Nancy Johnson, Charlie Bass, and Lincoln Chafee were among those who went down to defeat. The Republican caucus, as a result of all this, is more solidly pro-life. Democrats such as Pennsylvania's Bob Casey, North Carolina's Heath Shuler, and Ohio's Charlie Wilson are among the Hill's eight incoming pro-life Democrats. November 7 was an awful day for Republicans. It wasn't as bad a day for conservatives.

Donald Rumsfeld's suggestions for Iraq all seem to go in the direction of a withdrawal. But Rumsfeld can't quite get himself to clear the psychological hurdle of coming to an agreement with his harshest critics. The memo, given to President Bush just days prior to Rumsfeld's ouster and printed with much fanfare by the New York Times, offers such suggestions as "modest withdrawals," "go minimalist," and "an accelerated draw-down of U.S. bases." But it's only in his "less attractive options" section that Rumsfeld brings himself to take his suggestions to the extreme: "Set a firm withdrawal date to leave."

It's interesting that the same administration that has so resisted efforts to police America's borders would discuss placing "substantial U.S. forces near the Iranian and Syrian borders," or that an administration that calls itself conservative would debate "a massive program for unemployed youth" (in Iraq, not the United States), or that a defense secretary once so optimistic about the Iraqi reception of U.S. forces would now call for bribing religious and political leaders within Iraq to become our friends. The ugly realities of war have a tendency of turning politics and principles upside-down.

Alas, nothing in the memo, if enacted, would reverse the dreadful situation in Iraq. Only under the heading "less attractive options"--including withdrawal and instituting federalism separating the various factions--does Rumsfeld offer the reader an attractive option.

Hugo Chavez's thugs shut down Telemundo's coverage of its "elections" on Sunday. In the run up to the election, Chavez, in a barely veiled message of intimidation against critics in the media, promised to close channels that were "breaching the law." Whether or not "breaching the law" meant criticizing Chavez, el presidente left unclear. "I don't care what the world says. I care about what happens in Venezuela," Chavez exclaimed. "The world can say, 'Oh, dear!' but this is my country; I'm responsible." My country? No comprende, senor. Chavez opens up more than he knows in his "this is my country" remark. Was this really an innocent usage of "my country"? He wasn't using the phrase in the "my country tis of thee" or "my country right or wrong" sense, was he?. One would have to believe that one actually owned a country to arbitrarily shut down insufficiently fawning television stations. Perhaps Chavez didn't intend to claim ownership in declaring Venezuela "my country," but the subconscious works in strange ways. Not so incidentally, Chavez won Sunday's election. Had he lost, would he have cancelled the voting as he has cancelled television shows that he does not like? It's his country, after all.

One of my first introductions to Massachusetts busybodyism came from talk-radio host Jerry Williams, who destroyed his vocal chords railing against a mandatory seat-belt law for the Bay State. Williams killed the Dukakoid measure, but as with so many do-gooder initiatives it returned like Jason. Now comes word from John Adams, professor emeritus at University College in London, that seat belts save some lives but make life on the road riskier for others. As Time.com puts it, the "reality" with safety belts is "messier and more complicated than" you might think. "Adams first began to look at the numbers more than 25 years ago. What he found was that contrary to conventional wisdom, mandating the use of seat belts in 18 countries resulted in either no change or actually a net increase in road accident deaths."

There is so much wrong with Massachusetts v. EPA. Where to begin? The premise of the suit, that the federal government's refusal to classify carbon dioxide as a pollutant poses an imminent danger to the states, is completely bogus. The questions earlier this week of several Supreme Court justices, especially Antonin Scalia, suggested that they thought as much. That twelve states are suing the federal government because they don't like the policy of the executive branch smells of sour grapes. Why not run a credible candidate instead? And then there is the Environmental Protection Agency. What right do unelected bureaucrats have in making law? By my count, bureaucrats have been making law for about 120 years. But this doesn't make it right. The general problem underlying most of the specific problems about this case is the assumption that legislative policy should be decided by non-legislative parts of the government. The courts? The executive branch? The EPA? They have no mandate to make law--even when those laws are called "regulations." Alas, the train has perhaps left the station.