Covering the Bases. An Irwin J. McIckleson Production

I note with some amusement that his feature has been entitled Covering the Bases. An Irwin J. McIckleson Joint. Joint is a piece of future jargon that I am sure my husband would not approve of, so I'm quietly changing it to his preferred word, production. I suspect that Space Lobster of the switch; he's a bit of a tricky customer.

For those who don't know, my husband, Irwin J. McIckleson, is a fictional 1910's plutocrat who contributes to this website. Currently he is doing a daily review of two or three websites. I was his chauffeur but now I am his wife, although I still usually drive him around. No point in paying someone else to do it. Today he is having to stay at work due to some union negotiations and he asked me to write for him.

My first article comes from the delightful Echidne of the Snakes who seems quite concerned with how woman are treated in the future (well your present, I suppose). I heartily approve. She also writes an interesting article about the split between the parties and the mechanisms put in place to ensure that the members of the two parties do not see things the same way.

Our second article comes from Firedoglake, the name of which I have a hard time understanding. But perhaps I am old-fashioned, from your perspective. At any rate it is an article about those making the case that the United States should invade a country I know as Persia, but you know as Iran. The article argues that the person writing it, a Michael Gordon, writes a very lazy article that relies on unnamed sources.

I considered being a reporter briefly, but decided not to for two reasons. Firstly, it was made clear to me that if I got a job at a newspaper it would be on the coffee providing/typing side of the business, not the writing/reporting side. I was uninterested in that side of the business. Secondly reporters often use the most vile language casually and lack the sort of courteousness I like to surround myself with.

First Draft has a review of the presses recent grilling of a White House spokesman, named Ms. Perino, who appears to be a woman. I suppose I should call her a spokeswoman. She does not seem to be up to the task of defending this President Bush, who I gather from conversations with my Husband, is a bit of a dunderhead.

That is all for this edition; my Husband may be back tomorrow. If he isn't than Space Lobster will be taking over for a day. Enjoy your evening.