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Bob Lancaster, one of the Arkansas Times longest and most valued contributors, retired from writing his column last week. We’ll miss his his contributions mightily. Look out, in the weeks to come, for a look back at some of his greatest hits. In the meantime, here's a good place to start.
I remember in the famous book "Brave New World" how they worshipped Henry Ford where it had once been God, so they'd say "Oh Ford!" instead of "Oh God!" and on their Facebook and phone texts it would've been OMF instead of OMG. But Henry Ford never caught on as a deity so we still have OMG.
Last week I promised in 2013 to give only serious consideration to serious topics in this space. OK, I've got the serious topic — contempt for Congress. Not contempt of Congress, which you can go to prison for. Contempt for, an American given, held steadily, resolutely, justifiably for more than 200 years.
Getting the jump on unlucky '13, I've worked up a list of New Years resolutions. Thought I'd go ahead and share them early, as the world is scheduled to end on Friday and I wouldn't want them to go to waste.
I know you people mean well but really, honestly you need to get over this annual urge to shower Ol' Moi with Christmas presents as your way of saying thanks for the uplift that the weekly ruminations in this column have brought into your otherwise drab and dreary lives.
Kicking around out on the lease, hoorawing Rudolph'n'em, old boar hog cut me off and run me up a shagbark snag. Lost my piece in the scramble so nothing for it but to wait him out. And him me. We settled in.
You'll recall him as the ex-Bro. ex-Gov. CheezWhizaholic, always with his hand out grasping for additional earthly treasures to lay up, now hired Murdoch throat and bass guitar in a Xian rock band that, if it isn't named the Fox Dicks, ought to be. His latest gig has been helping mainstream Republican rape apologists get elected to high public office.
It's been my custom to piss and moan anew with the turn of the year about what a sorry piece-of-crap month January is. And to gather up a new batch of incriminating facts and statistics proving that it is so. Our worst month! Our worst month indubitably. Raineth drop and staineth slop and how the wind doth ram.
Fall fell recently and I missed it. I was thinking about something else. Probably some political foolishness that in the end won't amount to a hill of beans, as none of it ever amounts to a hill of beans. A hill of beans amounts to more of a hill of beans than anything that ever sprouts up in the mind of Antonin Scalia. But when fall falls something of giant consequence has occurred. Or recurred.
I promised to report back to you on my annual blue-ribbon quest at the county fair, and it went about as expected, about as usual, and I'll start my usual loser plaint, my chronic loser whine, by saying these latter-day county-fair contest judges are no better than NFL replacement referees.