The Week That Was

It’s been quite an eventful past week in the news. So, for what it’s worth—and remember, when you read a blog that’s free, you get what you pay for—these are my quick takes on some of the major and not-so-major stories of the past several days.

Students riot in State College, Pennsylvania, in wake of Joe Paterno firing. Sure, it’s outrageous that anyone should defend Joe Pa’s complete lack of moral accountability in the child sex-abuse scandal surrounding his one-time aide, let alone that Paterno’s defenders should resort to violence and vandalism. On the other hand, though, the disgraced octogenerian probably can expect a commendation from The Vatican for his indifference, and complimentary membership in the American Man-Boy Love Society. (As I understand it, the latter includes monthly issues of society’s provocative periodical, Standing Behind Youth.)

Sexual harassment accusations mount against GOP presidential hopeful Herman Cain. With his poll numbers slipping, as both credible victim accounts and inconsistencies in Cain’s own version of events mount, the embattled candidate might want to rethink his planned ace-in-the-hole defense: Inviting former DC mayor and current city councilman Marion Barry to share with the news media his belief that “the bitches set Herman up.” (Cain also, frankly, probably shouldn’t characterize anything, at this point, as being “in the hole.” I’m just sayin’.)

Race tightens for GOP presidential nod. Speaking of Herman Cain, in the latest nationwide poll of Republican primary voters, the embattled candidate nevertheless continued narrowly to lead the party’s presidential field—with a jaw-dropping 61% of respondents saying Cain’s alleged behavior toward women mattered not at all to them. In what may be a related development, left-for-dead blowhard Newt Gingrich, who was Speaker of the US House of Representatives sometime in the 19th century, now is tied for second place among GOP primary voters. Time was when Gingrich’s hypocrisy as a cheating-spouse Family Values candidate was held against him by the party faithful, but it seems that the power of Cain’s appeal to overwhelmingly white Republican voters as a conservative, unthreatening black man has opened the floodgates of GOP compassion for misogynists. Gingrich’s rise also appears to be the latest indication that Republican True Believers would rather concede the election to President Obama than hand the nomination to Mitt Romney. I might not even rule out a “Draft Paterno” movement.

Mississippi voters reject ballot measure to define a fertilized egg as a person. This one honestly shocked me—in a good way. Whenever I catch wind of an insane ballot item anywhere in the Bible Belt—whether its aim is to name Jesus Christ the official State Savior, or to mandate the bludgeoning of anyone with a Darwin symbol on his or her car, or to hereby resolve that “The War of Northern Aggression was never about slavery, but anyway, what exactly was so bad about an institution that boosted the economy and spawned some outstanding spirituals?”—I always assume the witless initiative is going to pass. But one news account I read suggested that the Mississippi measure was defeated because its language went too far—it also would have had “far-reaching impacts on birth control, in vitro fertilization, and a doctor’s ability to provide care for pregnant women.” Still, I fully expect proponents to tweak the language and give it another go at some point. Perhaps next time they’ll employ a non-threatening mascot to broaden the entreaty’s appeal. I just can picture it: The joyous, accordion-wielding Zygote Zydeco, back by his rockin’ Cajun band, the Moments of Conception.

Bil Keane, creator of The Family Circus, dies at 89. While I’ve always found Keane’s single-panel God-and-family comic, now drawn by his son Jeff, to be saccharine and insipid, it has spawned some great parodies by other cartoonists. Which Keane, to his credit, always seemed to take in stride. I also was amused—in a way I never was by the cartoon itself—by this anecdote that turned up in Keane’s obituary Wednesday in the Washington Post:

In 1984, Mr. Keane told the Post about how he decided to add a new character to The Family Circus by introducing a baby into his cartoon family.

“My wife was outside the studio working in the garden,” he recalled. “I ran out of the studio and said, ‘Thel, what would you think of adding a new baby to the family?’ She said, ‘Well, it’s all right, but let me finish the weeding first.’ ”

Ha! That’s good stuff. Maybe Thelma should’ve written the comic.

Duggars announce they’re expecting—again. Speaking of babies, in an appearance on The Today Show, Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar, the prolific procreators who birthed the TLC reality TV show originally named 17 Kids and Counting, announced that we can count on little Duggar number 20, currently in Michelle’s delivery system. My first thought was, “Man, the pressure really is on Octomom now!” No, my real first thought was that unless Jim Bob, a former Arkansas state legislator, is planning to reenter politics and cruise to victory on family votes alone, these people are insane. Also, were I Michelle’s uterus (don’t dwell on that image), I would sue for reckless endangerment. Why are people who go out of their way to deplete the Earth’s limited resources rewarded for their efforts with a TV show and constant publicity? Speaking of which, I’m wondering when Hotpoint will dangle a promotional deal for a series of “buns in the oven” ads.

Berlusconi exit makes it official: These are tough times for playboys. First, porn magnate and fossilized hedonist Hugh Hefner earlier this year was jilted on wedding’s eve by his nubile fiancée, in a triumph of revulsion over commerce. Then, actor George Clooney’s much-younger ex-girlfriend, Italian actress Elisabetta Canalis, told the media a month or two ago that she had considered him more of a father figure than a boyfriend. This suggests on its face an alarming family dynamic in the Canalis household. But it couldn’t have heartened Clooney’s ladies-man ego to have the world know that when his sultry ex used to cuddle up on his lap, she merely was angling for a bedtime story. Finally, yesterday, 75-year-old Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi—he of reported palace orgies and a criminal investigation into his relationship with a 17-year-old girl—was forced from office by an economic mess that’s disastrous even by Italian standards. According to an account in this morning’s Washington Post, “Crowds of demonstrators erupted in a joyous yell and waved Italian flags as news spread of Berlusconi’s resignation. One group sang choruses of ‘Hallelujah’ to celebrate his departure.’” To a man who likely has paid legions of prostitutes to sing that exact same chorus at a certain key moment, it must have been a sadly humiliating scene.