Review: ARMOR, by John Steakley

Armor by John Steakley

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


About a week ago, a friend of mine walked up to me and handed me this book, saying "you ought to read this, it's not what you'd expect." Since this was someone whose opinion I generally respect, I took the book home with me.


So...it's an interesting book, and no, not what you'd expect from the cover art or the back cover description. It starts off looking like a military sci-fi novel in the mold of Robert A. Heinlein's STARSHIP TROOPERS, but without all the military cheerleading (or as I call it, the RAH rah-rah).

Then, suddenly, we're someplace completely different with a completely different protagonist, the cynical space pirate Jack Crow. Crow's arrived on the planet Sanction with a mission of his own, one he's not completely happy with, but he's got debts to pay.

The story eventually gets tied together when Crow and Sanction's project director start delving into the secrets of the original protagonist's armored battle suit. There are some surprises and reversals right at the end.

The book drags quite a bit in the middle, and the prose gets a more than a bit overheated and melodramatic, but on the whole, I liked it. Didn't love it, but liked it.

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Darn - The World Didn't End

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Well, they did it to me again.

You may remember how bummed I was back in 2000 when the Y2K bug didn’t cause the complete collapse of civilization. I wrote at the time that I’d been getting all psyched up to grab my assault rifle and engage in a grim, bloody fight for survival in the smoldering ruins of civilization. After gearing up for that, it was kind of an anticlimax to just have to go in to work on Monday.

So you’d think I’d know better than to get all psyched up again for the end of the world as predicted by Harold Camping.

In case you missed the story, Camping is a California radio preacher who predicted that the world was going to end last Saturday promptly at 6 p.m. (Pacific Daylight Time). Specifically, at that time, all good Christians were going to be taken up to heaven.

Immediately following this event, we’d have massive worldwide earthquakes that would make the recent Japanese temblors look wimpy, and the entire planet would be plunged into chaos (even more than it usually is), with everything culminating in the destruction of this world, the triumphal return of Jesus Christ, and the establishment of a new heaven and Earth on Oct. 21.

Camping claims to have backed this up with biblical passages, combined with actual math. The math part may explain why I found his theory incomprehensible.

Although Camping had previously (and, it appears, incorrectly) predicted the end of the world back in 1994, a startling number of people bought into the prophecy. Some quit their jobs. Some sold everything they owned and gave away their pets. One deranged woman even tried to slit her own throat and the throats of her daughters to keep them from having to live though the “coming tribulation.” Fortunately, the kids survived.

Well, 6 p.m. came and went, as did 7, 8, 9, and so on. Everybody stayed put. No earthquakes, no seas turning to blood, no Four Horsemen, none of the stuff that you’d expect to see after even a cursory skimming of the book of Revelations or a few Grade-B horror movies.

Once again, I felt a little let down. I didn’t totally believe Camping, of course. And let’s face it, it’s not that I, heathen that I am, was expecting to get taken away Saturday if the whole thing was true. But there was a part of me that was looking forward to a lot of free stuff lying around.

When the Final Hoedown didn’t begin as scheduled, you’d expect the “prophet” who originally predicted said Apocalypse to mumble some vague excuse, grab the collection box and hop a plane to someplace with no extradition treaties. This is not, however, how a pro like Camping plays the game of big-time preaching. When he gets caught, he doubles down.

After some time in hiding — sorry, meditation — Camping announced that the Day of Judgment actually had come and gone on the 21st, but it was a “spiritual judgment,” unseen by humanity, and performed, as it were, behind closed doors. The end would still come as scheduled on Oct. 21. Perhaps more time was needed for all the heavenly department heads to sign off on the final paperwork or something.

I’m sure Pastor Camping has read the Bible more times that I have. I’ve only read it cover to cover twice (I know, that surprises a lot of people). Well, I confess, I cheated a little and skipped all the “begats” the second time. Which is why I’m somewhat bemused to find that I apparently know some Scripture that the good minister seems to have missed.

Passages such as Matthew 25:13: “Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of Man comes.” Or this one, from Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians: “For yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the night.” And then there’s this, from Matthew 24:11: “And many false prophets shall arise and lead many astray.”

But perhaps the most appropriate quote comes from the Book of (P.T.) Barnum: “There’s a sucker born every minute.”

Target Fixation

Balloon Juice » Shorter Eric Cantor: Suck it up, Missouri!

House Majority Leader Eric Cantor said Monday that if Congress passes an emergency spending bill to help Missouri’s tornado victims, the extra money will have to be cut from somewhere else.

“If there is support for a supplemental, it would be accompanied by support for having pay-fors to that supplemental,” Mr. Cantor, Virginia Republican, told reporters at the Capitol. The term “pay-fors” is used by lawmakers to signal cuts or tax increases used to pay for new spending.

I've heard that fighter pilots have to beware of what's called "target fixation": they get so intensely focused on one thing, like a target they're firing at, that they literally fly into the ground. I think the GOP's got a bad case of it. They're so focused on spending cuts that they forget that there's a time to put that aside and get relief to victims of disasters without worrying about who to take money away from.

RUNNING COLD, Harry Shannon

Running Cold by Harry Shannon

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Counselor and former TV shrink Mick Callahan attempts to help a client resolve a gambling debt with some seriously bad people. It goes badly. Mick starts to investigate, with an eye toward payback. But the situation’s more complicated than he expects, and pretty soon he’s up against someone a lot more dangerous than a sleazy bookie. The dead client’s son, who blames Callahan for his dad’s brutal death, complicates things even further.

Mick’s got a few demons of his own to battle along with the bad guys, including some hefty anger and addiction issues. If you like your heroes flawed, complex, and multi-dimensional (and I do), Mick Callahan’s right up your dark alley.

Harry Shannon’s tight, clean prose keeps the story moving quickly, right up to an ending with enough double crosses, surprises, and gunplay to satisfy the most jaded thriller fan. A great read.

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Wow, That Was Quick: The Newtster Implodes

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Thousands of political humorists were plunged into near despair last week as real estate mogul and reality TV star Donald Trump announced that he would not, after all, be seeking the Republican nomination for the presidency.

It's true that the move was not totally unexpected. After the cornerstone of Trump's candidacy (pandering to the birther lunatics) was dealt a mortal blow by the release of the president's "long form" birth certificate, one might expect he would have quietly folded his tent and slunk off in shame.

But let's face it, a guy with hair like that doesn't have much of a sense of shame. Plus, The Donald still had his special appeal to that breed of so-called "conservative" whose sole political principle is "whatever upsets liberals is good," and who also suffer from that weird cognitive defect that causes them to mistake "highly amused" for "upset."

(I've often wondered what watching a comedy show with people like that must be like: "Look! That man is scaring those people!" "Um, no ... he's a comedian. They're laughing at him." "No, no, they're terrified!" But I digress.)

Anyway, there was still some hope that Trump would stay in and keep the laughs coming. Unfortunately, the lure of TV money from "The Apprentice," not to mention the cachet of working with stars like Gary Busey and Meat Loaf, turned his head away from the path of public service and low farce. Things looked dark for a little while there.

And then along came Newt.

No sooner had the former speaker of the House announced his candidacy than it began to implode. He started off by calling for something that sounded a lot like the Obamacare individual mandate: "We ought to have some requirement that you have health insurance, or that you post a bond, or show in some way that you're accountable."

Then he really stepped in it by criticizing the budget plan of the tea party's new fair-haired boy, Congressman Paul Ryan. Ryan, who's being touted as if he was the Second Coming of St. Ronnie Reagan, drafted, and the Republican-controlled House voted for, a plan to dismantle Medicare and replace it with a voucher system.

Gingrich, like a lot of Americans who've been giving their congresspeople an earful recently, called the plan "too radical" and "right-wing social engineering."

Ryan immediately fired back, asking, "With allies like that, who needs the left?" House Speaker Eric Cantor called the remarks a "misspeak" and noted that "I think that many have said now he's finished." Conservative columnist Charles Krauthammer was one of that many. "He's done," Krauthammer said unequivocally.

In a video seen across the Internet, an angry man walked up to Newt as he was campaigning in Iowa, called him "an embarrassment to our party," and told him "get out before you make a bigger fool of yourself."

After that, the Newtster did the only thing a shameless political hack such as he could do: He began backpedaling so fast he left skid marks. He called his comments a "mistake." He denied supporting an individual mandate. He publicly apologized to Ryan.

Then he went even further by going on Greta Van Susteren's show on Fox and warning Democrats not to use his own words against him. "Any ad which quotes what I said on Sunday is a falsehood," he said, "because I have said publicly those words were inaccurate and unfortunate."

Yes, that's right. Gingrich actually said that accurately quoting what he said, on camera, for all the world to hear, would be "a falsehood." But you know what, Newt? That's OK. Because "any ad which quotes what I said is a falsehood" is a much better quote for Democrats to use than anything you could have said about Ryan.

Actually, though, I'm thinking of using this tactic, which I've started calling "Newtralization," in my own life. "Any statement that quotes me as saying I was at work rather than enjoying a few cold ones at the bar is a falsehood, because I've now said publicly those words were inaccurate." The possibilities are endless.

I just hope Newt doesn't crash and burn too fast, like Trump. I want him around, twisting and turning and tossing off glorious gaffes (or as I call them, "column material") for a while. But if he does go away, I've learned to have faith. The Lord, as they say, will -provide. And if the Republican presidential field is any indication, he's got a fine sense of humor.

I'D KNOW YOU ANYWHERE, by Laura Lippman

I'd Know You Anywhere by Laura Lippman

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


22 years ago, Eliza Benedict became briefly famous as the only one of serial killer Walter Bowman's victims to survive. Now, Bowman has contacted Eliza through an intermediary and says he wants to meet her. Laura Lippman deftly sets up this chilling premise within the first few pages, and the rest of the book is a steady, inexorable tightening of the tension towards Eliza's confrontation with the man who so irrevocably altered her life.

The premise of a serial killer manipulating someone from inside prison walls inevitably invites a comparison to Thomas Harris' Hannibal Lecter books. But quiet, apparently contrite Walter manages to be creepy in a much more subtle and ultimately more disturbing way that the more lurid fictional serial killers. I can put down Harris and breathe easy in the belief knowing a real criminal super-genius like Lecter doesn't exist outside of fiction; I know Walter Bowmans exist in the real world.

Which brings us to another great thing about this book, and about Laura Lippman's work in general: her mastery of the small, mundane details of modern American middle-class suburban life and how she juxtaposes the everyday with the horribly out-of-joint to make the evil seem even more unsettling. Stephen King does this a lot as well, but unlike King, you can always depend on Laura Lippman to bring things to a satisfying ending.

Superb craftsmanship, characters you can believe, steadily building suspense and a great ending...yep, it's a Laura Lippman book all right, and one of her best.

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Thugs and Ho's: The Oil Companies Fight For Their Tax Subsidies

Latest Newspaper Column: The Pilot

I think it’s safe to say that no one really likes big oil companies.

Certainly not the people who glumly watch the total on the gas pump go higher and higher as they fill their tanks, the numbers increasing so fast they seem to blur.

Certainly not the people of America’s Gulf Coast who are still suffering from the effects of the largest oil spill in U.S. history, a disaster of biblical proportions that was highlighted by a top oil executive whining that “he wanted his life back” and a Republican congressman from Texas apologizing to BP because he felt the government was being mean and hurting their delicate feelings.

So it’s always been a source of puzzlement to me that more people aren’t teed off at the massive tax subsidies our government gives to these corporate behemoths, especially in this deficit-obsessed era.

Even though the big five oil companies — BP, Chevron, ConocoPhillips, ExxonMobil and Shell — made a total profit of nearly $1 trillion over the past decade, oil companies continue to receive a variety of tax breaks for such arcane things as “intangible drilling costs,” “marginal well production” and “percentage depletion allowance.”

Some of these date back to 1916, when the government was trying to get the fledgling auto and oil industries off the ground and gain wide acceptance for the automobile as the primary mode of transport. I think we can safely say mission accomplished. But the tax subsidies remain.

President Obama has proposed, and Senate Democrats held hearings this past week on, proposals to eliminate $46.2 billion in oil and gas tax breaks over the next 10 years. Of course, the oil companies weren’t going to take that lying down. Spokesmen for the oil industry and the Republican caucus (as if there’s much difference) immediately claimed that repealing the tax breaks would lead to higher prices at the pump.

One of those making the claim, it should be noted, was a spokesman for Speaker John Boehner, who’d previously claimed he was “open” to the idea of doing away with the tax breaks. An executive from ConocoPhillips (which reported $95.32 billion in profits in 2010) went further: He called ending the tax breaks “un-American.”

Well, from his perspective, he’s right. After all, in his America, there’s nothing more patriotic than giving a bloated multinational corporation anything they want anytime they stamp their feet and pout, as long as we can make up the difference by cutting aid to the poor and destroying Medicare. From where he sits, that’s as American as apple pie and baseball. To these people, America and its government exists to serve them.

Here’s another thing. I am sick to death of these bloated tycoons holding a gun to the economy’s head every time it looks like they’re going to have to pay their fair share or clean up their mess. “Nice gas price you got there, be a shame if anything happened to it.”

I mean, really. Is anyone really stupid enough to believe that oil companies are going to stop drilling if they don’t get a massive tax subsidy for doing so?

I suppose there is one group who actually likes the oil companies: the people who work for them. Unfortunately, that includes a sizable chunk of our Congress, including DINOS (Democrats in Name Only) from oil-producing states, such as Louisiana’s Mary Landrieu (who’s taken $3 million from oil and gas companies) and Alaska’s Mark Begich (who’s only prostituted himself to the tune of $140,000, but he’s still pretty new to the game).

They, too, are acting as if they expect us to believe that the oil companies will just take their multibillion-dollar ball and go home if they don’t get their tax subsidies. Of course, they may not actually like Big Oil; but they sure do smile pretty and say the things their oily “clients” like to hear.

Will the Republicans and a couple of turncoat DINOs manage to derail the president’s attempt to get the oil companies to pay a reasonable amount of taxes on hundred of billions of dollars in profits?

Sad to say, it’s entirely possible. Because to them, the deficit’s big enough to justify balancing the budget on the backs of the poor and the old, but there’s no deficit, ever, big enough to justify inconveniencing their corporate masters.

Ahh, There We Go... Kindle Version of BREAKING COVER Is Now Live

Right here....

In case you'd forgotten, Bill Ott from Booklist had this to say:

Rhoades takes a break from his Keller series, featuring the Gulf War–haunted bounty hunter (Safe and Sound, 2007), with a stand-alone thriller starring rogue FBI agent Tony Wolf. Forced to break cover after rescuing two abducted children, Wolf—officially dead but living under the radar in rural North Carolina—suddenly finds himself on the run from both his former colleagues in the bureau (including his wife) and, more seriously, from the gang of drug-dealing bikers he infiltrated in his last FBI assignment. Tired of running from trouble, Wolf decides to go on the offense: take down the bikers, and expose the mole in the FBI power structure who is feeding the bikers information. If thriller fans are thinking Lee Child here, they’re right on target. Like Child, Rhoades dishes out one airtight action scene after another, mixing in just enough character-building moments and holding our interest in a full cast of nicely developed supporting players. All that, and a Sam Peckinpah–like bloody, bravura finale that will leave even icy-veined thriller fans panting for breath.

Review: THE GIRL IN THE GREEN RAINCOAT, Laura Lippman

The Girl in the Green Raincoat by Laura Lippman

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Laura Lippman's wonderful PI character Tess Monaghan finds herself confined to her bed on doctors' orders due to unexpected complications of her pregnancy. What happens next is right out of REAR WINDOW: a woman who Tess is used to seeing out her window every day disappears, leaving her neurotic Italian greyhound running free. Tess resolves to solve the mystery from her sickbed, all the while dealing with the abandoned canine, worrying about the impending delivery and terrified at the prospect of being a mother.

What's so striking about this book is its compactness: it's only 158 pages, but there's a full, rich, multi-textured story told in that short time. THE GIRL IN THE GREEN RAINCOAT originally ran as a serialized novel in the New York Times magazine, and every chapter is a perfectly crafted, self-contained little gem. As so often happens with a Laura Lippman book, I put it down at the end and went "Wow. That was AMAZING." I loved this book.



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Why You Might Consider Buying a Nook Today

Because my critically acclaimed title BREAKING COVER is now available for Nook. (The Kindle version is loaded but not yet up on the Amazon site.)

Here's what Paul Goat Allen of the Chicago Tribune had to say about the print version:

After penning three "redneck noir" novels featuring North Carolina bail bondsman Jack Keller, J.D. Rhoades has written a stand-alone story that could quite possibly be the perfectly crafted hard-edged thriller. With a plot that features a rogue undercover FBI agent, a sadistic outlaw motorcycle gang that controls a network of backwoods meth labs and a harem of hillbilly strippers, an overly ambitious female television reporter, and a much-publicized kidnapping case involving two young brothers, what more could a discerning crime fiction reader hope for?

"Breaking Cover" is nothing short of masterful on numerous levels: Rhoades' singular ability to make every character—even peripheral ones—unique, realistic and intriguing; his innate sense of narrative tempo, which is pedal-to-the-metal throughout thanks in no small part to a staccato writing style and succinct chapters all ending with cliffhangers of varying degrees; and, lastly, the author's over-the-top, pulp fiction-inspired audaciousness, which will have readers saying to themselves, "I can't believe that just happened...."

Simply put, "Breaking Cover" is destined to become a crime fiction cult classic—leather biker jacket, submachine gun and crystal meth not included.

Osama bin Laden is Dead: What Now?

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A good person does not rejoice in the death of another human being. A good person doesn’t hear that another living, breathing soul, one created by the maker of all things, has been gunned down and feel happy about the news.

Guess I’m just a bad person, then.

When I heard the news that Osama bin Laden had been shot and killed by U.S. Navy SEALs, I didn’t exactly go out and dance in the street. It was late, I was tired, and it would have been kind of weird to do it all by myself. I know for sure it would have freaked out the dog.

But I did pour myself a large celebratory drink, sit down, and smile a smile of pure satisfaction.

Truth be told, my revenge fantasies since Sept. 11, 2001, have not involved Osama bin Laden being blown away. They’ve been of him sitting alone in a clear plastic cage, like Magneto in the X-men movie, surrounded by pictures and constantly playing videos of the people whose deaths he orchestrated and their families, constantly confronted with the human cost of what he’d done for the rest of a long, miserable life.

But I knew that would probably never happen. I don’t even know where you’d go to get a cell like that. So as second choices go, this one will do just fine.

I can’t help it. I still remember, as if it was yesterday: the shock, the fear, the anxiety of that pretty September day when I heard about the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, followed by the news of the plane that crashed as its passengers tried to take it back from the terrorists to keep it from becoming another flying bomb.

We all felt it, and we’ve all felt that anxiety and that sense of creeping paranoia every day since. It’s made a lot of us a little bit nuts. It’s made a few of us really nuts. That one incident united us, then it divided us, and I don’t know how long it will be before we’re really whole again.

My children grew up in a world afraid of its own shadow because of that son of a bitch, and while his death will not spell the end of terrorism, I can’t help but be happy he’s been paid back for that.

So what now? Will the death of the man who’s been the dark and beardy face of terror bring us together just as the original attacks did, albeit all too briefly? Will the slaying of this particular dragon start a national healing process?

Well, maybe.

I was encouraged by the fact that even Dick Cheney, who’s previously made thoroughly obnoxious pronouncements that he didn’t think President Obama actually believed we were at war with terrorists, had nothing but praise for the “people who worked very very hard for a long time,” then went on to say, “It’s also a good day for the administration. President Obama and his national security team acted on the intelligence when it came in and they deserve a lot of credit too.”

Former President George W. Bush also was very gracious, acknowledging President Obama’s “courtesy call” to him before the announcement. So credit goes right back to them as well. In their honor there’ll be a two-week moratorium on calling Mr. Bush “Dubbya” and on “shooting in the face” jokes.

On the other hand, a person on Twitter who identified himself as the founder of the “NYC Tea Party” couldn’t bring himself to celebrate the moment without a bitter jab at the commander in chief who was announcing the success of the operation: “I can literally see Obama’s eyes moving back and forth reading the teleprompter. Cheapens this historic moment.”

Meanwhile, commenters at the right-wing site RedState were confident that the whole thing was orchestrated to take people’s minds off examining Obama’s birth certificate. Is that some tunnel vision or what?

So we’ll see. Haters are gonna hate, no matter what. This, however, is a time when the vast majority of Americans want to greet this as good news, as evidenced by the celebrations at the White House, Times Square and ground zero. Maybe this time, the haters, sore losers and conspiracy theorists will find themselves marginalized and, for once, shunned by the people who direct the media spotlight.

We live in hope.

Interview Today at Criminal-E

I'm being interviewed today by the phenomenal Scottish writer Allan Guthrie, at his blog, Criminal-E. Check it out!

Minnesota Republican Hates Neil Gaiman, Capitalism (UPDATED)

Here's the story in a nutshell:

Neil Gaiman is a writer. He's a very good writer.

He's also a very entertaining speaker. He's so good that groups pay him to come speak.

He is, he freely admits, expensive.

A group who receives an arts subsidy from the State of Minnesota had access to some state arts money.

They offered to pay Neil Gaiman his market rate to come speak at a small library. He accepted. He did the job he agreed to do, was paid the agreed-upon price and, as it happens, donated the money to a couple of worthy charities. Everyone was, it seems, quite pleased (see "very entertaining speaker," above).

A particular Republican state legislator, however, was apparently offended by a talented and successful person getting paid the price he'd bargained for, for work he agreed to do, and accused Gaiman, whom "he hates", of being a "pencil-necked weasel" and "stealing" from the State of Minnesota.

Neil Gaiman delivered an epic, yet gentle smackdown: The Opinions of a Pencil-necked Weasel-thief.

Check it out.

Update: Said legislator has now "apologized for the name calling" because his Mama told him to. But he still has a problem with Gaiman getting paid his usual rate because, and I quote, "he's extremely financially successful."

Wouldn't Dean be calling this "Class Warfare" if a Democrat said someone rich should be working for free just because he was rich?

The Birther Circus Never Ends

The Next Birther Hero?

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President Obama provided irrefutable evidence this past week that 25 percent of Americans, and 45 percent of Republicans, are blithering idiots.

Those are the percentages of both groups, according to to a recent CBS News/New York Times poll, who don’t believe the president was born in the U.S. and who therefore believe he is ineligible under the Constitution to hold the office.

Members of that group have held on to this belief despite the fact that President Obama has previously released his “certificate of live birth” from the state of Hawaii. They’ve held on to it despite the fact that the state officials responsible for public records have stated numerous times that the birth certificate is genuine.

They’ve held on to it despite the evidence that the archives of local papers from the time of President Obama’s birth show that birth announcements ran in those papers of a son born to Mr. and Mrs. Barack H. Obama of 6085 Kalanianaole Highway in Honolulu.

Nothing will satisfy us, the so-called “Birthers” insisted, but the “long-form” birth certificate, something which I’ll wager the vast majority of Americans had never even heard of until the Birthers turned it into the gold standard for proving you were One of Us.

“Obama isn’t an American citizen” has become one of those Zombie Lies, the ones that just won’t die. When one right-wing politician ends up being forced to admit that yes, he or she actually believes that Barack Obama is, indeed, an American (which they usually do only after being cornered like a rat in a trap), another one springs up, ready to start the whole tedious process over again.

The media bear a great deal of the responsibility here, because they’ve given a platform, not only to what the president described as “carnival barkers,” but also to enough kooks, charlatans, hucksters and grifters to staff a dozen sideshows, and all under the guise of being “objective.”

Make no mistake: There are some statements and positions that, in a rational world, would entitle you to nothing more than being mocked and jeered like a sideshow geek. Calls of “Where’s the birth certificate!?” mark you as a clown just as clearly as if you were wearing a red nose and big shoes, and any news outlet who gives any hearing whatsoever to that sort of nonsense ought to just admit that they’re just there to entertain, hire some tigers and elephants, and start broadcasting from under a big striped tent.

You want proof that there’s no such thing as the “liberal media”? Liberal media wouldn’t show people like Orly Taitz or Donald Trump spouting their drivel without a laugh track running underneath it.

Finally, President Obama did what he does far too often, in my opinion: He caved in to the demands of the crazies. He released the “long-form birth certificate” they’d been demanding. It showed, as everyone sane already knew, that he was born right here in the good old U.S. of A.

Did that settle the matter? Of course not. Nothing will ever satisfy the wingnuts, and Obama was foolish to try. Remember that, to the obsessed conspiracy theorist, any evidence that contradicts the the theory is itself part of the conspiracy.

Cries of “forgery!” went up from the swamps of the right wing blogosphere, with one blogger purporting to have proved the inauthenticity of the document by examining it online. Ask any legitimate document examiner if such a thing is possible, and see how long it takes him or her to stop laughing.

Some took the path of sheer chutzpah, like GOP Chairman Reince Priebus.

“Unfortunately,” Priebus sniffed, “[the president’s] campaign politics and talk about birth certificates is distracting him from our No. 1 priority — our economy.”

Well, Rance old son, maybe if you’d shown some of that “leadership” you people are always on about and helped quash this lunacy in your own party, including some of your potential nominees like “Mau Mau Mike” Huckabee, we wouldn’t have had to go through this rigmarole. If this twit beaned the president with a baseball, he’d complain about the time it took to put a bandage on the wound.

Then, of course, there’s the time-honored tactic of moving the goalposts, like CNN commentator Erick Erickson, founder of the right-wing blog RedState.

“Once the birth certificate issue is dispatched,” Erickson wrote, “will he release his college transcripts? That’s the issue for me.”

Welcome back, my friends, to the show that never ends.