The Daly Blog

for my war dance, and my rain dance...for any time that I might have rooted for washington's NFL football team or cleveland's major league baseball team...for ever having shown either of my nipples to anyone...for having eaten fried chicken and watermelon...for my christmas tree and my cross and my friend's menorah...for supporting the troops but opposing the war(s)...for my ability to recognize love between two people of the same sex...for ever having thought about sex...for ever having the audacity to call a young person of the opposite sex a "girl"...for ever having laughed at andrew "dice" clay or the man show or watched the spike network or read maxim or fhm or stuff or gear or playboy or penthouse or oui or club or cheri or for ever, ever, ever having been aroused by the female form, naked or not...for ever having been naked...for not having liked most of spike lee's movies...for having liked a few of spike lee's movies...for thinking eminem is a musical genius...for having worn white after labor day...for not boycotting pepsi and for sometimes boycotting god...for not always respecting the dead...for not always respecting the living, especially charlton heston...for maintaining that ishtar is one of the funniest movies ever made...for believing that my country isn't perfect, but continuing to live here anyway...and on and on and on...in fact, i apologize for every time that anyone has ever been offended by anything since time began...and now I'm issuing a desperate plea to all the people of the world, regardless of race, creed, ethnicity, religion, age, gender, and/or sexual orientation, to just LIGHTEN UP.

When challenged to either put up or shut up, the average person will invariably choose the latter.

I'm kind of glad that this whole Janet Jackson thing happened during halftime of Super Bowl XXXVIII, because it prompted the lazy-ass media to fall back on one of its most tired practices, and thus gave me the chance to rant about one of my pet peeves.

In at least one report, the baring of Janet's breast on live, national broadcast television was referred to as "Nipplegate."

I scoured the remainder of the article for corroborating information, but found none. No mention was made of the existence of documentation that Ms. Jackson and her partner in alleged crime, Justin Timberlake, had planned the incident; the theft of said documentation (by, perhaps, Britney Spears) from either Ms. Jackson's or Mr. Timberlake's room at the Nipplegate Hotel; nor evidence of an attempt by the president of MTV to cover up the burglary.

Alas, there is no such place as the Nipplegate Hotel (although if there were, it would undoubtedly offer special day and hourly rates). Nor are there hotels called Monicagate, Travelgate, or Iran-Contragate, to name but a fictitious few.

There is, of course, a Watergate Hotel in Washington, D.C., and the stand-alone use of the phrase "Watergate" as a euphemism for a specific scandal that occurred at that location is entirely appropriate.

But all other instances of controversies in which the press has attached the suffix "-gate" to any other word are hereby declared null and void. It's well past time to cease and desist this practice in favor of reporting the news using ACTUAL WORDS.

And while we're on the subject: An alcoholic is someone who's addicted to alcohol. So what, exactly, is chocahol? I've heard of chocolate-flavored vodka and chocolate liqueur, but given the context in which the term chocaholic is generally used, those definitions just don't seem to fit.

And what about workahol? Is that anything like workfare? Is someone who's addicted to their welfare-to-work program a workfareaholic?

I don't care if Webster's ultimately does sanction such words -- they're not clever, they're just plain wrong, and the use of them is, to coin my own fake word, assholic. Seriously, run them through spell check (see "BillGates") and you'll find that not only are they not real words, but the suggested alternatives are so far off, they can be downright comical.

Oh, and by the way, Janet: Nice tit.

Coming up after the break: TV watchers Down Under express shock over a skin-baring performance by one of their nation's most beloved pop stars during halftime of the Australian-Rules Football Championship Match. Stay tuned for our team coverage of "The Natalie Imbru-haha," next on Headline News.

Just got done watching a rented DVD of the Oscar-winning documentary, Bowling for Columbine.

In it, National Rifle Association president/Hollywood has-been Charlton Heston was shown speaking at pro-gun rallies in two different towns, immediately after kids had shot and killed other kids at the schools in those towns.

At both rallies, Heston used a phrase to signify his commitment to the cause: "From my cold, dead hand."

I shall be hoisting a few when that fine day comes, I'll tell ya.

I must say, kudos to director Michael Moore for a deeply affecting and thought-provoking film, but an important detail was surprisingly overlooked. Amendment II of the Bill of Rights -- the principle upon which the NRA hangs its hunting cap -- reads as follows:

"A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed."

Now, I'm no lawyer, but I do own a dictionary and a thesaurus, and I can't help but interpret it this way:

"An organized and sanctioned armed forces will not be deprived of the right to use weapons to keep the nation secure."

I can't see how any reasonable person can read it and come to the conclusion that "every Tom, Dick and Son of Sam has the God-given right to pack heat."

Funny how the entire first half of the Second Amendment is so casually ignored by the gun lobby.