The Scout Report

Documentary Series: "History's Most Intriguing Ironies"

Scarlett Billows Productions (SBP), the parent company of The Scout Report (TSR), feels the need to diversify in order to generate a profit for its shareholders. Okay, if not a profit, then the appearance of revenue of some sort, even if it's fiat currency from a zombie bank, which pretty much describes all currency these days. As irony—a.k.a. the derivative off of which TSR has been dining for years—would have it, the shareholders in question are also members of TSR's editorial board. Not since Mrs. James Peregrine Leger-Demain, IV, TSR's chief of protocol enforcement and downsizing, made a few Benjamins selling defenestration kits to Wall Streeters in October 2008 has the board earned anything but scorn.

So, here we are. Scarlett Billows, acting unilaterally as always from the SBP bunker (upper left), has turned to film-making to keep TSR in mutton and mead, because if facile pilferer James Cameron can make a fortune, why can't she? Well, she can and will. Cherry Blossoms: the Double Agents of WWII is the first documentary in SBP's original, non-Cameronian series, History's Most Intriguing Ironies. The Texas Board of Education has already expressed interest in adding Cherry Blossoms to its history curriculum.

Controlled tangent. On December 11, 1941, someone chopped down four Japanese cherry trees in Washington in retaliation for the Japanese attack against the U.S. Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor. The U.S. government responded quickly and effectively to prevent more hatchet jobs by temporarily renaming them "Oriental" cherry trees, successfully fooling everyone under the age of seven.

Public Service Announcement: Swine! What's in a Name?

The Scout Report 's editorial board, in its first-ever Public Service Announcement (PSA), would like to apologize to the even-toed ungulates of the family Suidae for the persecution they've endured at the hands of an hysterical, upright-walking, tabloid-devouring, prehensile-thumb-endowed public. First of all, "swine" is a derogatory term, and, until the family Suidae reclaims it as a politically empowering identifier of its own, TSR will refer to it as the S-word. Now that the ground(hog) rules are established, let's move on to the source of this so-called Pandemic-in-Gestation (PIG).

According to every not-yet-discredited scientific entity, including the acronyms CDC, WHO, and FDA, one cannot get the S-Word Flu from a member of the family Suidae. Each has issued similar statements, under-reported in the mainstream media (MSM) per usual: "[S-Word] influenza viruses are not spread by food. You cannot get [S-Word] influenza from eating pork or pork products."

Controlled tangent. As unambiguous as the edicts above seem, TSR believes that they have not reached the citizens of Main Street, so the board has decided to lift its ban on PSAs and issue a more detailed list of what does not transmit the S-Word Flu. You cannot get S-Word Flu from watching Babe, rumbling with HOG's, matriculating as an Arkansas Razorb ack, or being drafted as a Washington Redskins offensive lineman (or even being a Hogette). Ladies, you will not acquire the virus from carrying a "silk purse made out of a sow's ear." Parents, your ostensibly talented progeny are safe and sound behind the walls o f the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so calm down. You couldn't retrieve them anyway. 

Revealing digression. Mrs. James Peregrine Leger-Demain IV, TSR's chief of protocol and defenestration, has proposed  that the acronyms listed above rename the current medical pan-panic something with more literary flair, thus sparing the porcine population further persecution. As precedent, Mrs. IV cites Lady Windermere Syndrome. Two doctors, probably   gay, after attending a performance of the Oscar Wilde comedy, Lady Windermere’s Fan: A Play About a Good Woman, hypothesized that fastidious behavior in Victorian women, typified by Lady Windermere, may have prevented them from expectorating frequently enough to clear their airways of infected secretions, and that this predisposed them to the development of bronchiectasis. They published their theory in the cardio- pulmonary journal Chest, proposed the name change, and the rest is thoracic history. Mrs. IV, no stranger to the irreversible dilation of her bronchial family tree, has focused her philanthropic work on renaming medical unpleasantries, because victims feel better about succumbing to illnesses with pretty names. And with that, we have answered the question, "What's in a Name?"

Stay tuned...Tomorrow, TSR's inhouse medical examiner—Myasthenia Gravis, RN—will help readers pick the right Pandemic Protection Mask for them and their families. 

    

Lemon Socialism, Zombie Banks, and Clawback Diplomacy: 2.23.09

Due to the galaxy-wide collapse of every financial institution ever incorporated, The Scout Report's editorial board has been playing the quiet game in Dick Cheney's abandoned bunker. Much to the board's surprise, the aforementioned bunker's legendary Undisclosed Location (UL) turned out to be the pool house at the Naval Observatory. His Halliburton pennant still hangs over the family cauldron. Team spirit!

Revealing digression. The board is whiling away the recession in the bunker playing Charades, using only words and terms its members never heard of before things went terribly wrong—derivatives, Madoff, securitization, debt swaps, zombie banks, clawback, lemon socialism, and trillion. Meanwhile, Mrs. James Peregrine Leger-Demain IV, TSR's chief of protocol enforcement and defenestration, received Lehman Brothers' first Clawback Fellowship, a little-known entitlement embedded in the Stimulus Bill. (Mrs. IV can't believe she's the only one who thinks it's funny that it's called a "bill.") She has elected to study menu engineering at the University of Phoenix, the one school Governor Sarah Palin didn't attend. 

Jarring juxtaposition. TSR board is happy to report that the glass is half-Fuld. The wife of former Lehman Brothers CEO, Kathleen Fuld, has emerged as a role model for frugality and discreet acquisitioning. First of all, she negotiated the purchase of a $13.3 million Florida mansion for a mere $100. That's right, one Benjamin. With her savings, she was able to buy cashmere throws from Hermès to give those with a less developed sense of entitlement. 

Earth Day: 4.22.07

Happy Earth Day 2007, or as it's called at The Scout Report headquarters, Fiddling While Rome Burns. Before the accusations of cynicism start pouring in, let it be known that TSR is all for increasing public awareness about how the lack of public awareness and, therefore, public concern has created the environmental pickle we're in today. However, the band-wagon jumping of the past week by the mainstream media has been a cringe-inducing study in collective fiddling. Even the cynics at TSR welled up a little in frustration. The message seems to be: Buy a canvas shopping bag, eat some organic chocolate, wear bamboo bloomers, and save the planet.

Revealing digression. Every consumer-driven publication is vying for eco-cred, including Conde Nast's Vanity Fair and Domino. Of course, their green issues are printed on paper, but they are, after all, glossy print publications. Wallpaper*, the "International Design Interiors Fashion Travel" magazine with the cool covers, has undertaken a experiment this month called EcoEdit. An all-electronic supplement, it features glamorous, yet environmentally friendly, designs from around the world. Of course, being Wallpaper*, its creative minds upped the ante for eco-cred by presenting the exclusively visual content without benefit of photography. (You can't get away with that but once.) "Rather than flying the designs [sic] around the world, or sending photographers off to shoot them, we have chosen to represent them with these stunning illustrations instead." Frankly, the illustrations by Hort are stunning. Wallpaper* gives good fiddle this month.

For those who are serious and wonkish but have short attention spans, we refer you to The Week, which is publishing this week's magazine in an electronic version only...for this week only. For a brief briefing on climatic change, read "Global Warming: The high-tech solution." It doesn't take but a minute, and you'll have plenty of time to shop for unbleached, linen, shower curtains and buy the Lexis RX Hybrid.

Controlled tangent. Wikipedia, that useful, prudent, and free online encyclopedia, is not usually associated with humor and irony, so we assume that the presence of both in its Earth Day coverage is unintentional. "The first Earth Day is commonly credited with creating environmentalism, and/or giving a tremendous boost to the pre-existing conservation groups and the relatively new and radical grassroots ecology movement, as well as spurring the growth of environmentally sensitive spiritual paths such as Wicca and Neopaganism." TSR hadn't realized that these movements had taken off since 1970. We can hear the Geico caveman saying, "What?"

Jarring juxtaposition. Just when we thought we'd gotten too cynical, TSR visited the official Earth Day portal of the U.S. government, and realized we just can't keep up. For instance, consider the introduction's stunning inanity: "Earth Day is a time to celebrate gains we have made and create new visions to accelerate environmental progress. Earth Day is a time to unite around new actions. Earth Day and every day is a time to act to protect our planet." On the other hand, the site offers original and innovative advise: save energy, use less water, and recycle. Boy, that'll keep the polar bears in ice caps for generations to come. For a reality check, read how the Bush Administration tried to muzzle NASA's chief climate scientist when he tried to speak out about global warming.