But then I read the subhead, and decided to take a break from Wolfies affair and all the sleazy affairs of state that have been, to say the least, 24/7 bummers and read a little pop culture.

I've never read a Harry Potter book, or seen a Harry Potter movie. But my daughter-in-law, who has a BS in computer science, and a masters from Georgetown in foreign affairs loves them. So they must be great, and not just for kids. Just not for me. I identify more with J.K. Rowling, the single mother who was the archtype modern starving artist. A woman with compelling practical needs and an idea in her head and a literary fire in her belly. A combo platter that almost never leads to success. But, succeed she did. At seven books, I'm glad she's going to concentrate (I assume) on the fabulous life she created for herself. It gives me hope that dreams come true. And that persistent pursuit of them actually does sometimes pay off.

The Sopranos. I will miss them. With all the ballyhoo about Imus and the bubbling up of the central problem of lack of substance and taste in what's on the airways...and what's entertaining tastelessness, and what is not. If one of Tony Soprano's crew had made Imus' remarks, it would have been good and appropriate scripting. And in a bizarre way...it would have made him endearing. Because you would understand exactly where he was coming and that he didn't know any better. Ignorance and greed in the Sopranos is poignant. It is understandable, almost sympathetic. I love it that I feel sorry for this band of struggling misfits, and the man who leads them. Tony Soprano has always seemed like he was capable of more. That if he could have been born in Westport and gone to Princeton, he might have headed Enron. That's what endears him to me...and all the rest.

I will miss their misguided adventures and the "fuck yous" or "yoose" and all the misogynist, bigoted, mean-spirited, horrific things they did because they were in the proper context. Fiction that helps define compassion by juxtaposing it with dispassion. That glorifies tenderness by graphically depicting violence in a microcosm of the "real world". Tony Soprano had a lot of teaching to do. And in this context he did it.

Not to mention...it was phenomenally entertaining. I will really, really miss the Sopranos and all their pathos. "Dat was funckin' good writin' Tone."

The body and blood of Christ? Having a Catholic prayer breakfast, which frankly to me...(nine years of saying "yes, sister" and having my skirt length checked) smacks of the Southern Baptists meet the Lions Club...is disturbing enough. It's just so "unCatholic". But having George Bush there is just creepy enough to keep me away from church even on Christmas day. Is nothing "sacred"? (and did Bush Bogart the chalice?)

Sarcasm is not necessarily sacrilege, by the way.