Don’t judge a Brooks by his cover

Bishop’s Mantle column by Jim Bishop

“My love is higher than a mission bell,

Deeper than a wishing well,

Stronger than a magic spell

My love, for you . . .”

- Donnie Brooks

Don McLean’s 1971 anthem, “American Pie,” refers to Feb. 3, 1959 as “The Day the Music Died,” when young pop artists Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and J.P. Richardson, aka “The Big Bopper,” joined that great chorus in the sky. Their chartered single-engine aircraft took off in bad weather from Clear Lake, Iowa, and crashed in a cornfield, claiming the lives of everyone aboard, including pilot Roger Peterson. Read more

I forgot – did I forget to remember to forget?

Bishop’s Mantle column by Jim Bishop

It’s happening to me more and more – and it’s quite disconcerting. I bump into someone I know in a public place and, if not in a rush, we stand and exchange pleasantries. The next thing I know, another person comes up, and courtesy dictates that I introduce him or her to the other party. Read more

Gotta love that Ann Coulter

Stop the Presses column by Chris Graham

Let’s give Ann Coulter the benefit of the doubt.

Why should we hold her to any standard – you know?

So she called John Edwards a “faggot.”

(And people at the CPAC conference who were on hand for the occasion laughed hysterically.)

Big deal, right? Read more

The Bubba Card

Stop the Presses column by Chris Graham

Did you hear presumed Democratic Party presidential nomination frontrunner Hillary Clinton’s fake Southern drawl the other day during remarks made at a black church in Alabama for a commemoration of the 1965 Selma voting-rights march?

I don’t know – it would have been one thing if it had even been a decent fake Southern drawl.

You know, the kind that we hear actors and actresses who aren’t from the South try to use in TV and movies.

But no – Hillary’s was the kind that you would expect from a Yankee who thinks “syrup” when she hears real Southerners talk.

Coca-Cola all the way – straight from the machine.

I half-expected her to turn to somebody sitting alone up on the dais with her and say “y’all.”

(When we all know good and well that “y’all” is plural. Not singular.)

I digress.

What I was wanting to get at here is … Hillary must be feeling some pressure politically, and we’re what, 11 months away from the first votes being cast?

I mean, not only is she turning up the syrup, but she brought along with her to Selma “the first black president,” her husband, Former President Bill.

No doubt she knows that Illinois Sen. Barack Obama is going to steal her thunder among African-American voters – who traditionally constitute a large voting bloc in Democratic Party primaries.

But at what risk does she enlist Bubba? And no, I’m not talking about any issues that could arise from his sexual escapades while in office – six years of utter incompetence from Dubya have rather dulled the bad feelings from Lewinskygate, now, haven’t they?

No, the risk is in letting somebody else in the room who can steal her thunder – and Former President Bill can do that without trying.

Seriously, he left the country in much better shape than it’s in now – the budget was in the black, the terrorists were kept at bay, life was good, despite what the folks on the other side tried to say.

For Hillary to play the Former President Bill card this early in the ’08 campaign suggests that she knows that she can’t win the race on her own merits.

This can’t be a good sign for those who want to see her elected two Novembers hence.

Three strikes, but not out

Bishop’s Mantle column by Jim Bishop

“EMU – Bluffton baseball game cancelled.”

This notice in small type on the calendar of the sports section of the Harrisonburg Daily News-Record might normally command a passing glance. But on this occasion, these few words jumped out at me like special effects in a 3-D movie, a jarring reminder that what should have been a celebrative, albeit competitive time of fun in the Florida sun instead became a bleak, horrific reality. Read more

The Big Giant Faun and the 3 Little Oscars

Carly at the Movies column by Carl Larsen

Once upon a time, a foreign fairy-tale movie snuck into the Academy Awards ceremony and waltzed off with three little Oscars.

Now, we all know that foreign films are only supposed to win the “Best Foreign Film” award, of course, but this one took the golden statues for Art Direction, Makeup and Cinematography.

It stars a nice little female, a very bad Fascist, and a Big Giant Faun. Read more