Return from playing hooky

After Thanksgiving I concluded I'd been logging more 'Net time than was good for me , so I decided to take a trial separation from my computer. I am pleased to report that this was fairly painless, aside from the time spent deleting spam from the inbox after having ignored it for several days. Not that some of the subject lines weren't compensation in themselves.

Speaking of things that are unintentionally funny, I figured I'd start off this week with some unintentional Christmas funnies.
I refer, of course, to the Cavalcade of Bad Nativities. It's a kapital kompendium of kopious Kristmas kitsch!

All those K's (and thinking of things unintentionally funny) remind me of something else that struck my funny bone today, though I'm sure that was not the intention. Hon. Daughter #1 came home yesterday, but still had a paper to fire off to one of her profs (some of us wish we'd had that technology when we were callow students, but never mind.) The domestic establishment of the minor premise being under the administration of Luddite moi, we have yet to take upon ourselves some of the electronic amenities that many seem to consider indispensible. This includes cable TV and a wireless connection (but hey, my hardware geek neighbor doesn't think wireless is all that, either.)

Anyhow, the result of my electronic reactionism was that I ended up dropping H. D., her Lappy, and her completed paper off at a local coffee shop so she could ether the thing in, or whatever you'd call it. While in there, I encountered a large screen tuned to cable news. I was thus in an excellent position to form some impressions of one of the day's stories that I bet were not explored on any of the news channels. The fact that the sound was off probably helped.

I therefore submit my latest news flash for general edification: David Duke has managed, after Lord knows how long, to extract another Warholian fifteen minutes out of the media. Of course, in order to accomplish this he's had to go to Tehran and gladhand a guy in front of whose house he probably would as lief had burned a cross had said individual moved in down the street from him here in the U. S. of A. And what the #$%! has Duke done to his face? I have distinct memories of the (old enough to try a run for president) guy's poisonous antics from my salad days, and I bet I've aged more than he has in the intervening years. I passed my observation along to D, who proposed that when one cuts deals with Old Scratch, such effects are likely to result. I'm amazed he hasn't already spontaneously combusted from Evil Overload on this trip.

Another day, another media sensation reduced to trivial nonsense. Maybe I'll shoot for serious next week.

NOTE 12/17: I had originally used the term "pre-salad days" to describe my memories of Duke. On reviewing history with D, however, I had to conclude that although I was aware of him at that time, his presidential run would most likely have been concurrent with my actual salad days. So I made the edit. Either way, I'm still convinced the guy's Dorian Gray.