Critiquing Catkiller.

“‘The constituencies are in tension with each other…His leadership of the Senate has faltered so far as he has tried to cultivate the constituency of Republican primary voters,’ Sandel said.” Responding to the recent Bolton switcheroo, the WP questions whether Bill Frist has the wherewithal for the presidency. Probably not. I mean, judgment-wise, he had already lost me with the whole murdering kittens thing, to say nothing of his goofy Schiavo diagnosis or his many prostrations before the fundies. But, hey, don’t fret, Senator…The bar for presidential judgment these days is pretty low.

Frist gets the gist.

I believe we have a fair and independent judiciary today…I respect that.” The Hammer may have already mouthed off about federal judges in the Schiavo case, but, Catkiller Frist, like Vice-President Cheney, is savvy enough to realize that the GOP have stepped into serious trouble, and has thus decided he wants nothing doing. (Not a hard call. — Their PR misplay here has gotten so obvious that even Harry Reid is calling ’em out.) Well, if the Republicans want to mitigate the damage, perhaps Cheney or Frist should have a word with Senator Jon Cornyn (R-TX), the latest conservative freakshow to go after federal judges. Update: The WP probes the GOP breach.

Don’t judge the judges.

Without naming names (*cough* DeLay), Vice-President Cheney wisely flees from the idea of “retribution” against Schiavo judges.

By the way, since I didn’t mention this earlier and probably should get it in writing — family, friends, loved ones, and any federal judges forced by right-wing hoopla to get involved — if at some point I fall into a persistent vegetative state with little-to-no hope of recovery, I would prefer to die with some sense of dignity, and not have the Republican Party use my prostrate body as a get-out-the-vote strategy for conservative crazies. Thanks much.

Also, please don’t play any Meatloaf or Celine Dion at my funeral, and try to launch my remains in a direction other than right at Genesis. In fact, a ship to Valinor would probably be preferable.

Kenny’s with the Angels.

“In 22 minutes, Trey Parker and Matt Stone manage to hammer politicians, the media, religious hypocrisy and every other aspect of the madness that is the Schiavo case. How they were able to put this together so quickly is astounding — it’s more timely than ‘The Daily Show.'” Salon‘s Andrew Leonard sings the praises of the most recent South Park.

Let me Hammer them today…

The time will come for the men responsible for this to answer for their behavior.” Did Boss DeLay really call for a hit on federal judges overseeing the Schiavo case? Senator Ted Kennedy, for one, seems to think so. If nothing else, his language seems remarkably intemperate for a Congressional leader…but, really, when it comes to the Hammer, what else is new? Update: DeLay tries to get the Judiciary Committee involved.

Million Vote Baby (Redux).

Articles worth reading on GOP involvement in the continuing Schiavo fiasco:

Slate’s Dahlia Lithwick: “This morning’s decision by Congress and President Bush — to authorize new federal legislation that will obliterate years of state court litigation, and justify re-inserting a feeding tube into Terri Schiavo, based on new and illusory federal constitutional claims — is not about law. It is congressional activism, plain and simple; legislative overreaching and hubris taken to absurd extremes.”

Salon‘s Eric Boehlert: “The Schiavo episode highlights not only how far to the right the GOP-controlled Congress has lunged — a 2003 Fox News poll found just 2 percent of Americans think the government should decide this type of right-to-die issue — but also how paralyzed the mainstream press has become in pointing out the obvious: that the GOP leadership often operates well outside the mainstream of America. The press’s timidity is important because publicizing the poll results might extend the debate from one that focuses exclusively on a complicated moral and ethical dilemma to one that also examines just how far a radical and powerful group of religious conservatives are willing to go to push their political beliefs on the public.

Million Vote Baby.

I haven’t been following all the recent vagaries of this Schiavo fiasco either, but my feelings on the matter aren’t going to surprise anybody. With this blatantly unwarranted attempt to mint political capital from a terrible family tragedy, the Republicans in Congress are making a mockery of the American legal system, constitutional process and their own small-government, states-rights philosophy in one fell swoop. And for what? “In a memo distributed only to Republican senators, the Schiavo case was characterized as ‘a great political issue’ that could pay dividends with Christian conservatives, whose support is essential in midterm elections such as those coming up in 2006.” Naturally…we’ve all seen this Grand Old Party sell out more principle for less gain in the past.

Inflated Currency.

Hmmm. A million dollars sure doesn’t go as far as used to. (And you’d think with that kinda cash Clint could have invested in a few more lights around the set.) At any rate, I’m willing to bet I might have thought more of Million Dollar Baby if I had seen it before the hype machine kicked in (and before I knew the twist, since I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.) But, well, MDB was a harmless helping of manipulative schlock, I guess. But even if I hadn’t seen Aliens of the Deep just beforehand, this film would have come off as a woefully two-dimensional enterprise.

At this late date, you probably know the story. Grizzled archetypal trainer Clint Eastwood and his grizzled archetypal sidekick Morgan Freeman run a dark and dilapidated boxing facility, without benefit of loyal title contenders or fluorescent lighting. Into this duo’s endless Who’s More Grizzled repartee steps Hillary Swank, a plucky, gosh-darned-don’t-that-girl-have-heart boxer-wannabe from the wrong side of the tracks, who’s burdened with the scariest, goofiest redneck family this side of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. (And don’t even get me started on Cletus, or Forrest, or Danger, or whatever that gimpy kid’s name was.) Soon enough, plucky Swank has even managed to thaw the heart of frosty ole Clint, and together they make that long-awaited title run, until…ack!

Like I said, MDB was ok enough as a hammy diversion, but I’d say its emotional resonance wasn’t too far removed from the Touched By an Angel melodrama of last week’s The Jacket. It’s a by-the-numbers boxing movie that turns into a by-the numbers Lifetime movie-of-the-week. Sure, the acting is polished across the board, but I thought the characters were for the most part shallow and cartoonish. (In fact, Morgan Freeman is barely even playing a character — he’s a Shawshank voiceover tinged with a touch of Bagger Vance.) And the plot barely holds together — I’m sorry, but, Evander Holyfield’s ear notwithstanding, you’re just not going to get away with that many sucker punches in a title fight.

I’m probably being a bit too hard on this flick — it made for a reasonably engaging two hours, sure. Perhaps it even works as an homage to the Hollywood of yore — at times this felt like a Karl Malden vehicle from 50 years ago. But, simply put, this was in no way the best film of last year — I’ll take Eternal Sunshine, The Aviator, Sideways, The Incredibles and a host of others over MDB any day of the week and twice on Sunday. This isn’t even the best Clint film in recent years – Mystic River was much more well-realized, and obviously Unforgiven is head-and-shoulders above this drek. How MDB won the Oscar bout is beyond me…Call McCain — the fix was in.