You’ll remember the first Baby-Faced Bullshit Artist, of course. He showed up in the seventies, a high old time for yogis from India. Many prominent hippies had given the yogis their seal of approval and the Beatles had personally guaranteed the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, with whom they even took up temporary residence. The crew at the Subterranean Circus was not so enamored of people of the yogi persuasion. Particularly disenchanted was my store manager, Bob Sturm, a cynic of Germanic heritage, always likely to be hostile to the Hot New Thing. Bob was particularly hostile to a new 15-year-old kid yogi who was gaining immense popularity in the United States and had woven his web around Broward, a major Gainesville pot farmer who regularly produced exceptional weed. Broward had donated $80,000 of perfectly good dope-growing profits to the new phenomenon and it was driving Bob crazy. He chastised Broward formidably and took to calling the kid yogi “the Baby-Faced Bullshit Artist,” but Broward was unrelenting in his devotion.
One not-so-fine day, Bob Sturm picked up a newspaper, looked up and glowered. “Christ!” he exclaimed. “The Baby-Faced Bullshit Artist is coming to Gainesville! Broward will probably donate his HOUSE to the little prick!” Broward, of course, was aglow with bliss, his hero was on the way and he would actually get to meet him. Sturm discussed the possibility of taking Broward into “protective custody,” but ultimately you have to leave people to sort out these things for themselves even though experience can be a harsh taskmaster.
Broward and thousands of other likeminded followers went out to a great gathering of disciples in a large park just outside Gainesville. It was to be a day-long celebration of believers, replete with the requisite sitar music and ample blessings from the kid yogi. Broward would get to meet the Baby-Faced bullshit Artist personally, of course, he being a major wheel-greaser of the cause. The meeting would last approximately three minutes, which I thought rather shabby treatment for a gift of eighty thou. For eighty thousand dollars, I would take somebody to dinner in Paris and the opera following. For eighty thousand dollars, I would weed the Formal Gardens of Babylonia. For eighty thousand dollars….well, you get the drift. But Broward was happy. The sights and sounds of thousands of blissed-out barefoot worshippers dancing and frolicking on the lea, the colors, the music, it was a magnificent celebration of all that was pure and good. Broward came back to the Circus and recited to us a litany of wonderful moments. Still, he seemed unexpectedly subdued.
“So what’s the matter then?” asked Bob Sturm. “You had a great time. You met the Baby-Faced Bullshit Artist. The whole thing was a big success. I would have expected you to be bouncing off the walls.”
“Well, yeah,” answered Broward. “It was a spectacular event, no doubt about it. It really lived up to all my expectations and I considered my donation well-spent.”
“So why the long face?”
“Well,” said Broward, “it’s never a good thing to be descending from a virtual nirvana, from reaffirming your convictions to the brotherhood of man and come crashing down to a horrible realization. Somebody stole my shoes.”
Enter Kim Jong-un
So now we’ve got Baby-Faced Bullshit Artist #2, the Beloved Leader of North Korea. Unlike with his kid yogi predecessor, nobody bothered to teach this young fellow the rules of proper begging. If you want an honest handout, it is never a good idea to threaten to kick someone in the shins, let alone spread radioactive death all over his potatoes, which seems to be the Kim Jong-un plan, which he inherited from his father. That stuff only works so many times, as most of us learned long ago at our mothers’ knees in the parable of The Boy Who Cried Wolf. Most of us would call that blackmail and nobody likes to be blackmailed, especially a well-armed opponent which could easily carpet-bomb North Korea back to 1948, though it’s doubtful anybody could tell the difference. Anyway, surprise surprise, it turns out that this young phony warmonger somehow happens to be an NBA basketball fan, of all things, and a big fan of previous years champion Chicago Bulls teams. So, when the famous Harlem Globetrotters made a recent fun trip to North Korea, ex-Bulls forward and notorious wacko Dennis Rodman went with them. It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad World, right? Anyway, Rodman and Kim had a rollicking good time watching the Globetrotters and talking about old times. The Beloved Leader told Dennis he really wasn’t looking to start a war and when he got back to the USA, Rodman should call his good friend, Barack Obama, and tell him to give Kim a jingle, which Dennis did.
I know what you’re thinking. Why the hell should the exalted President of the Greatest Nation on Earth call that crazy little bastard? It’s insulting to even consider it! It’s beneath his station! The gall of the critter to even suggest it! See, and that’s why I would be a better president than Barack Obama….because I would do it. And I would save the county trillions of dollars now being spent for war preparedness which is absolutely unnecessary. The call would probably go something like this:
President Bill: Yo, Kim—it’s President Bill. I’m here in Washington with my man, Dennis Rodman. He told me to give you a ring so I figured what the hell? How they hangin’?
Kim Jong-un: Very nice, Mister President Bill. My friend Dennis says you big hoops fan, ha ha!
President Bill: You got that right, Kim. We shoot it around here at the White House all the time. Rodman tells me you’re a big Bulls partisan.
Kim Jong-un: Yes, yes! Chicago Bulls….favorite team, for sure. I love Chicago Bulls.
President Bill: Well, then, you might be interested in my New Plan. I’m thinking of reopening an embassy in Pyongyang and sending Michael Jordan over there to be Ambassador. What do you think of that?
Kim Jong-un: HOLY SHIT! You got to be kidding, President Bill! This would be MAJOR COUP for Kim! I can’t believe your generosity! This is better than cancelling the boycott.
President Bill: Well, we’d have to have an understanding, of course. Michael Jordan is a VERY proper man and we couldn’t have anymore of these crazy nuclear threats—it would make Michael look bad.
Kim Jong-un: In the toilet with those threats, President Bill! In the toilet! I command it today.
President Bill: Alright, then. I think we can do a little business. I’ll have my people call your people.
Kim Jong-un: So very good, President Bill. Hey, and when Michael get here, maybe you come over and we get up a little three-on-three hoops game, you and Joe Biden and somebody else play me and Michael and another guy. We have small side bet. We win, we get Pentagon. You win, you get North Korean Air Force. Ha ha, you got no chance!
President Bill: Sounds good to me, Kim. Oh, just one thing and it’s not really important—but did you ever hear of LeBron James?
And that’s the story of how President Bill inherited the North Korean Air Force.
Fastest Horse In The World Update
Cosmic Flash worked a half-mile at Calder last Saturday in 49.3 under what trainer Larry Pilotti called “a major hold. He’s really just galloping,” said Larry. Just galloping or not, the work was the fastest of the day for a two-year-old and kept the colt on track for his target race date of April 26. He still must earn a gate card before being permitted to run. Hopefully, that will take place after his next work out of the gate, a half-mile on April 17. Scarlet Siren worked three-eighths in 37.2, going solo yesterday morning. All things going according to schedule, her first race should be sometime before May 10.
Derby Watch
Only three weeks to go until the Kentucky Derby and things are coming into better focus. Last weekend’s Wood Memorial at Aqueduct ran fairly true to form as the undefeated Verrazano held off an impressive late run by Normandy Invasion, also defeating previously undefeated Vyjack, who finished third. This will make Verrazano at least the temporary Derby favorite, but not with us. Despite being able to follow a very slow pace set by a longshot noncontender, Verrazano was life and death to hold off Normandy Invasion at the finish in a plebeian time of 150.1, a fact which bodes ill for a Derby effort. The Wood is run at a mile-and-an-eighth, the Derby is a mile-and-a-quarter. Normandy Invasion looks like a better candidate. Nonetheless, Verrazano is undefeated and deserves respect based solely on that fact. Maybe he didn’t like the track. Maybe he got up on the wrong side of the stall. Right now, it looks like Orb is better.
On the West Coast, Goldencents (below) surprised Flashback in the Santa Anita Derby, the latter coming out of the race with a leg injury (knee chip) that will take him off the Kentucky Derby trail. While Goldencents’ time was the equivalent of eight lengths faster than that of Verrazano, West Coast tracks are notorious for faster speeds, so take that with a grain of salt. Goldencents’ young black jockey, Kevin Krigger, is a rising star in the business who the press is certain to fuss over as the Derby comes closer but despite the well-publicized successes of Calvin Borel, the horse is still the most important factor and right now that horse is Orb.
Lila Says “Thanks!”
To all her fans out there who sent in numerous “awwws” and requests for autographs. Lila is still sleeping at the bottom of the bed, although occasionally crawling up to the top by morning. It is like having “a rock in the bed,” according to Bill, for whom cuteness fortunately counts a lot. Two months from now, Lila will be a lot less cute, so measures must be eventually taken.
Norm! would like everybody to know that he is getting a little tired of waiting for a playmate to romp with and that his mother is just a big old slug when it comes to aerobic activities. He isn’t yet willing to take off very far on his own but he’s jumping out of his skin in the stall when we come to greet him in the morning. Dot is due on the 18th, but the size of her bag dictates otherwise, which naturally puts the arrival of her foal in conflict with the projected race date for Cosmic Flash. ‘Twas ever thus.
That’s all, folks….
One not-so-fine day, Bob Sturm picked up a newspaper, looked up and glowered. “Christ!” he exclaimed. “The Baby-Faced Bullshit Artist is coming to Gainesville! Broward will probably donate his HOUSE to the little prick!” Broward, of course, was aglow with bliss, his hero was on the way and he would actually get to meet him. Sturm discussed the possibility of taking Broward into “protective custody,” but ultimately you have to leave people to sort out these things for themselves even though experience can be a harsh taskmaster.
Broward and thousands of other likeminded followers went out to a great gathering of disciples in a large park just outside Gainesville. It was to be a day-long celebration of believers, replete with the requisite sitar music and ample blessings from the kid yogi. Broward would get to meet the Baby-Faced bullshit Artist personally, of course, he being a major wheel-greaser of the cause. The meeting would last approximately three minutes, which I thought rather shabby treatment for a gift of eighty thou. For eighty thousand dollars, I would take somebody to dinner in Paris and the opera following. For eighty thousand dollars, I would weed the Formal Gardens of Babylonia. For eighty thousand dollars….well, you get the drift. But Broward was happy. The sights and sounds of thousands of blissed-out barefoot worshippers dancing and frolicking on the lea, the colors, the music, it was a magnificent celebration of all that was pure and good. Broward came back to the Circus and recited to us a litany of wonderful moments. Still, he seemed unexpectedly subdued.
“So what’s the matter then?” asked Bob Sturm. “You had a great time. You met the Baby-Faced Bullshit Artist. The whole thing was a big success. I would have expected you to be bouncing off the walls.”
“Well, yeah,” answered Broward. “It was a spectacular event, no doubt about it. It really lived up to all my expectations and I considered my donation well-spent.”
“So why the long face?”
“Well,” said Broward, “it’s never a good thing to be descending from a virtual nirvana, from reaffirming your convictions to the brotherhood of man and come crashing down to a horrible realization. Somebody stole my shoes.”
Enter Kim Jong-un
So now we’ve got Baby-Faced Bullshit Artist #2, the Beloved Leader of North Korea. Unlike with his kid yogi predecessor, nobody bothered to teach this young fellow the rules of proper begging. If you want an honest handout, it is never a good idea to threaten to kick someone in the shins, let alone spread radioactive death all over his potatoes, which seems to be the Kim Jong-un plan, which he inherited from his father. That stuff only works so many times, as most of us learned long ago at our mothers’ knees in the parable of The Boy Who Cried Wolf. Most of us would call that blackmail and nobody likes to be blackmailed, especially a well-armed opponent which could easily carpet-bomb North Korea back to 1948, though it’s doubtful anybody could tell the difference. Anyway, surprise surprise, it turns out that this young phony warmonger somehow happens to be an NBA basketball fan, of all things, and a big fan of previous years champion Chicago Bulls teams. So, when the famous Harlem Globetrotters made a recent fun trip to North Korea, ex-Bulls forward and notorious wacko Dennis Rodman went with them. It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad World, right? Anyway, Rodman and Kim had a rollicking good time watching the Globetrotters and talking about old times. The Beloved Leader told Dennis he really wasn’t looking to start a war and when he got back to the USA, Rodman should call his good friend, Barack Obama, and tell him to give Kim a jingle, which Dennis did.
I know what you’re thinking. Why the hell should the exalted President of the Greatest Nation on Earth call that crazy little bastard? It’s insulting to even consider it! It’s beneath his station! The gall of the critter to even suggest it! See, and that’s why I would be a better president than Barack Obama….because I would do it. And I would save the county trillions of dollars now being spent for war preparedness which is absolutely unnecessary. The call would probably go something like this:
President Bill: Yo, Kim—it’s President Bill. I’m here in Washington with my man, Dennis Rodman. He told me to give you a ring so I figured what the hell? How they hangin’?
Kim Jong-un: Very nice, Mister President Bill. My friend Dennis says you big hoops fan, ha ha!
President Bill: You got that right, Kim. We shoot it around here at the White House all the time. Rodman tells me you’re a big Bulls partisan.
Kim Jong-un: Yes, yes! Chicago Bulls….favorite team, for sure. I love Chicago Bulls.
President Bill: Well, then, you might be interested in my New Plan. I’m thinking of reopening an embassy in Pyongyang and sending Michael Jordan over there to be Ambassador. What do you think of that?
Kim Jong-un: HOLY SHIT! You got to be kidding, President Bill! This would be MAJOR COUP for Kim! I can’t believe your generosity! This is better than cancelling the boycott.
President Bill: Well, we’d have to have an understanding, of course. Michael Jordan is a VERY proper man and we couldn’t have anymore of these crazy nuclear threats—it would make Michael look bad.
Kim Jong-un: In the toilet with those threats, President Bill! In the toilet! I command it today.
President Bill: Alright, then. I think we can do a little business. I’ll have my people call your people.
Kim Jong-un: So very good, President Bill. Hey, and when Michael get here, maybe you come over and we get up a little three-on-three hoops game, you and Joe Biden and somebody else play me and Michael and another guy. We have small side bet. We win, we get Pentagon. You win, you get North Korean Air Force. Ha ha, you got no chance!
President Bill: Sounds good to me, Kim. Oh, just one thing and it’s not really important—but did you ever hear of LeBron James?
And that’s the story of how President Bill inherited the North Korean Air Force.
Fastest Horse In The World Update
Cosmic Flash worked a half-mile at Calder last Saturday in 49.3 under what trainer Larry Pilotti called “a major hold. He’s really just galloping,” said Larry. Just galloping or not, the work was the fastest of the day for a two-year-old and kept the colt on track for his target race date of April 26. He still must earn a gate card before being permitted to run. Hopefully, that will take place after his next work out of the gate, a half-mile on April 17. Scarlet Siren worked three-eighths in 37.2, going solo yesterday morning. All things going according to schedule, her first race should be sometime before May 10.
Derby Watch
Only three weeks to go until the Kentucky Derby and things are coming into better focus. Last weekend’s Wood Memorial at Aqueduct ran fairly true to form as the undefeated Verrazano held off an impressive late run by Normandy Invasion, also defeating previously undefeated Vyjack, who finished third. This will make Verrazano at least the temporary Derby favorite, but not with us. Despite being able to follow a very slow pace set by a longshot noncontender, Verrazano was life and death to hold off Normandy Invasion at the finish in a plebeian time of 150.1, a fact which bodes ill for a Derby effort. The Wood is run at a mile-and-an-eighth, the Derby is a mile-and-a-quarter. Normandy Invasion looks like a better candidate. Nonetheless, Verrazano is undefeated and deserves respect based solely on that fact. Maybe he didn’t like the track. Maybe he got up on the wrong side of the stall. Right now, it looks like Orb is better.
On the West Coast, Goldencents (below) surprised Flashback in the Santa Anita Derby, the latter coming out of the race with a leg injury (knee chip) that will take him off the Kentucky Derby trail. While Goldencents’ time was the equivalent of eight lengths faster than that of Verrazano, West Coast tracks are notorious for faster speeds, so take that with a grain of salt. Goldencents’ young black jockey, Kevin Krigger, is a rising star in the business who the press is certain to fuss over as the Derby comes closer but despite the well-publicized successes of Calvin Borel, the horse is still the most important factor and right now that horse is Orb.
Lila Says “Thanks!”
To all her fans out there who sent in numerous “awwws” and requests for autographs. Lila is still sleeping at the bottom of the bed, although occasionally crawling up to the top by morning. It is like having “a rock in the bed,” according to Bill, for whom cuteness fortunately counts a lot. Two months from now, Lila will be a lot less cute, so measures must be eventually taken.
Norm! would like everybody to know that he is getting a little tired of waiting for a playmate to romp with and that his mother is just a big old slug when it comes to aerobic activities. He isn’t yet willing to take off very far on his own but he’s jumping out of his skin in the stall when we come to greet him in the morning. Dot is due on the 18th, but the size of her bag dictates otherwise, which naturally puts the arrival of her foal in conflict with the projected race date for Cosmic Flash. ‘Twas ever thus.
That’s all, folks….
