’Tis Not the Season
But Malachy will share some Christmas thoughts anyway
By Malachy McCourt
Just when you thought you were done with Christmas, here I come with more stuff on it. As we know, it’s a season fraught with anxiety, depression, anger and domestic disharmony, all despite the injunctions of various clergy that it is the season of peace, tranquility and the sharing of joy and of song. The so-called Christians have had a monopoly on the whole shebang since they converted the feast of the sun god into a celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, Esq.
Prior to that event, the Romans celebrated the festival Saturnalia, a time of big feasts, bellowing bawdy ballads, gift giving and decking ye olde halls with holly, ivy and other green foliages. The idea being that evergreens are symbols of life and fertility and that they would keep out the winter’s dark demons of despair and depression. Read more
Woods’ Woes
Worse than a cheat, a scab deserves no pity
By Malachy McCourt
The hoi polloi of America are apt to get their knickers in a knot when the known, the popular, the celebrity, the righteous and the religious indulge in a trifle of sexual hanky-panky. The latest laddie caught in the trap is none other than Tiger Woods, a golfer who apparently puts something other than balls in little holes. Whatever occurred twixt him and his Swedish beauty of a wife comes under the heading of Mind Your Own Business. And he is a businessman, who has accumulated many dollars, perhaps a billion of them, which someone told me would be enough $1,000 bills to reach to the top of the Washington Monument—a rather sharp phallic symbol. Read more
Count on It
Meet the Robin Hood of blackjack
By Malachy McCourt
He has light-colored hair, bluish eyes, a healthy complexion and stands about 5’10”. As he perambulates about the country, he has a pleasant look on his genial face. He is self-employed, yet he is one of the most watched men in these United States of America. What, you may ask, does he do that warrants such surveillance? He is one of about 100 people, mostly men, who go from casino to casino winning at blackjack because they are—horror of horrors—card counters. Read more
Healing at Helen Hayes
A top-notch facility, should you need a titanium plate in your leg
By Malachy McCourt
There I was at the Vermont Stage Co. doing the play Prelude to a Kiss when someone sent me the theatrical greeting, “Break a leg,” which I did. I broke the limb in the bathroom of the hotel I was staying at and had to drop out of the play.
Diana, my spouse and friend, was on a conjugal visit and summoned the emergency services and got me to Fletcher Allen Hospital, where the good doctors (highly experienced in fractures, due to the proximity of skiing places) put the titanium plate in and braced me with a boot. After five days, I was transported to the Helen Hayes Rehab hospital just outside of the city. Read more
THE DEVIL AND A-ROD
THINK THE COUSIN SUGGESTED STEROIDS? THINK AGAIN.
By Malachy McCourt
“You made me love you, I didn’t want to do it, I didn’t want to do it.”
So go the words of an old familiar song. Why do we do things we don’t want to do? I was on location for a forgotten film staying in a hotel where a convention of Baptist evangelicans was infesting the joint. There were a variety of buttons for sale with sayings such as, “Jesus loves you,” “I am saved” and, my favorite, “The devil made me do it,” which I promptly purchased for a mere $3. Read more
THE ROOT OF MUCH EVIL
COULD CURING DENTAL WOES LEAD TO WORLD PEACE?
By Malachy McCourt
There have been a lot of words written on the subject of George Washington’s wooden dentures. Had he not suffered greatly from a multiplicity of toothaches, it’s doubtful if the American Revolution would have been successful. All of us know the specific pain of the infected tooth nerves, and I have no doubt those pains have been the cause of much violence in our society.
I don’t give a lot of thought to my teeth, though the genius of dentistry who takes care of my neglected mouth constantly advises me on brushing, flossing and rinsing. A couple of my teeth recently decided to die quietly in the dark recesses of my mouth—unnoticed, they thought, until my friend Dr. Joseph Fearon of West End Avenue spotted them and decided that removal of the remains and a decent burial was in order. Half the pain in dental procedures has to do with anticipated agony, which is unnecessary. When Dr. Fearon says, “This will not hurt,” it doesn’t. Or he might say, “This will sting a little.” It does, as he sticks the needle into the gum, but otherwise I breathe easily. Read more
A LETTER TO OBAMA
YOU'VE GOT SOME CAMPAIGN PROMISES TO KEEP
By Malachy McCourt
Dear Citizen Obama,
’Twas not too long ago you were roaming the country fearlessly expounding on the wrongs wrought by the right and telling all within earshot what you were going to do to restore our country to its honorable place among the nations of this earth. At least some of the populace voted for a Congress they thought would bring the thugs, thieves and killers who had been ruining the country to trial. But the spineless, sniveling Democrats in the person of their leaders, Harry Reid and Nancy Pelosi, announced that impeachment was “off the table,” confirming that law, justice and the Constitution were also off the table.
You, Citizen Obama, pounded podium after podium with your message of change. Well, sir, banks make change without changing anything. What we need is progressive thinking. Read more
SECURE THE BLESSINGS OF LIBERTY
WITH FENCES TO MEND AND WALLS TO TEAR DOWN, OBAMA HAS HIS WORK CUT OUT
By Malachy McCourt
For the first time since the creation of the world, the sun rose on the United States of America at night. That was the triumphant night of Nov. 4, when despite the desperate prayers of flocks of evangelical Christians, God made Barack Hussein Obama, a black man, the 44th president of this benighted country.
Eight years ago, an election was stolen by the most malignant, malevolent, evil gang of terrorists and thugs ever to hijack a country. With all the accoutrements of technology and under the cover of fundamentalism, they robbed us of our rights under the Read more
HERE COME THE RUSSIANS
VIA NEW JERSEY, OF COURSE, ACCORDING TO PALIN FOREIGN POLICY
By Malachy McCourt
Why are literary meanderings called columns? They don’t support anything and, unlike the military, they don’t march. Now when the esteemed boss man Tom Allon discussed with me some years ago contents of these meanderings, he emphasized the local and community nature of the various publications in which they would appear. I heartily agreed, as I am notoriously agreeable. Consequentially, I must have written at least four columns in the last five years that dealt with local affairs. All the rest were paeans of praise for the Wanker Bush and the Cheney Dick. Read more
MCCAIN IS NOT QUITE ABEL
A POOR VEEP PICK AND OTHER BLUNDERS BY THE GOP CANDIDATE
Malachy McCourt
I have been thinking about the possibility of Johnny McCain becoming president, and him being assassinated by the loony right-wing rapturers. He would (a) go straight to Heaven to say “I am sorry” to all the little Vietnamese children he dropped bombs on; and (b) his departure would facilitate the elevation of Sarah Palin to the presidency, so that with herself and Jesus in the White House, we would all be saved. Read more
