Oh, hey look. A blog.

In other news, I am the proud owner of an orginal Julie Neidlinger. Thanks Jonny.

"Last year's goat was burned down by vandals dressed up as Santa Claus and the Gingerbread Man. They were never caught."

What did you think of my Christmas Goat?

In Sweden, they are trying to kill it.

"Since it was first erected on Dec. 3 in 1966, the goat has been hit by flaming arrows, run over by a car and even had its legs cut off - surviving only 10 times beyond Christmas Day."

What has the Christmas Goat ever done to them? Don't they know that the Christmas Goat always makes right hunches, brings us presents on Christmas Day (when we feed it bales of hay).

Oh Christmas Goat! How shiny are your haunches!

A Christmas Carol: Alternate Version

Jon was on the phone and I was distracted with hanging Christmas lights. I laced the long strands over the silver bowl with the reindeer handles and they made a soft clinking sound.

He heard the jingling and asked if I was being visited by three goats. I'm certain of it.

"Goats?" I replied.

"What?" he said.

"What do three goats have to do with it?" (Was he talking about three billy goats gruff? How random!)

"Ghosts, not goats!" He laughed hard. "As in the three ghosts that visited Scrooge on Christmas Eve."

And then it started.

It ended about five minutes later, but the best line that emerged was, "My salvation is at stake and you send me three goats!"

Point a finger and four are pointed back at you

Rosie O'Donnell is learning today about throwing stones. Only weeks ago, she accused Kelly Ripa of being a "homophobe" because Ripa didn't want Clay Aiken's hand over her mouth (nevermind that Clay has never come out as gay or that it's the middle of flu season ... oh, and that people don't like their mouths covered up). You can read the whole story here, but here's the gist: While "humorously" (used loosely) imagining how people around the world might react to a recent Danny Devito appearance on "The View," she imitated a Chinese conversation in a most unimaginative and unflattering way.

Never forget, dear Rosie, the power of an untamed tongue ... and of the Information Age that magnifies its words.

A Word About Mercy

I have discovered that mercy is for the wrong-doer. Or at least, the offender, for there is not always wrong where we are offended.

Of course this is what mercy is for. But it is a revelation to me.

Is it so noble of us to show mercy to the kind, the unwavering, the gentle? Where is the glory in this?

To extend it to our offender. Ah, that is something.

The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath.
It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
'T is mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway,
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself

Shakespeare

What I Want for Christmas

If you've been reading this blog since the beginning, you know my standard for purchasing art: it must be meaningful or damn good. And best if it's both.

Julie Neidlinger is an unusually good artist. Her perspective is startlingly original, a powerful reflection of her own depth and complexity, anything but one-dimensional. It is impossible not to take her seriously once you've seen her work.

I'm speaking primarily about her paintings, but she is an accomplished photographer, sketcher and designer as well.

You can browse the entire gallery here. If you need to know where to send my gift, email me.

She has designed a series of Christmas cards as well.

PS: I am going to gratuitously post a copy of one of her paintings, a move that will land me in very hot water with Julie. Expect a tongue-lashing in the comments section. In my defense, the graphic has a hyper-link to the original.

Why are you still here? Go look!

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

-Keats

Oh the humanity

For how long today are we going to discuss four rich women who showed up at a Christmas party in the same dress? (Imagine the horror.) Yes, it's a funny anecdote, especially when one of said women is first lady Laura Bush. But the melodramatic commentary from female radio/TV personalities is nauseating. Really? Showing up in the same outfit as someone else is that scarring?

Maybe I just don't get it -- possibly because I don't embarrass easily. Or possibly because IT DOESN'T MATTER. Really, worst-case scenario, what are the implications of such an occurrence? That you and another human being have similar fashion sense? That there is a finite number of dresses in the world today? Neither of these should embarrass YOU, the wearer of the outfit.

Seriously, ladies, I haven't heard this much fuss about an outfit in the White House since a little blue cocktail dress...

The Best Things Really Do Come in Small Packages

Welcome James.

We loved you before we knew you.