It is not true that the only writing worth condemning is "good." A name brand like you knows that, even if Jonathan Swift seems to be a wee bit beyond him.

(But thanks for writing something new, albeit sub-sub. It's a step in the right direction.)

It's amazing how defensive people can be. So defensive that they seem to go nuts even when someone writes something totally inoffensive. I don't think this was exactly a masterpiece, but hardly worth getting your panties in a bundle over. I guess this is why conservatives hate liberals. Whenever someone says anything that hearkens back to the good old days, the stereotypical secular liberal goes bonkers. How unfortunate.

To most people, an article criticizing our times would be considered just fine. To the letter writers here, it is offensive to not be in love with our wonderful, commercialized, consumer-driven, capitalist, shallow, banal system? I'm so confused.

Boy-oh-boy, my piece must have REALLY hit a nerve. Why else waste so much time on so much vituperation? Of course as you may or may not know, such vituperation is only sparked by good writing, however much you may despise or disagree with the writer. Thanks for the compliment! :-)

Ummm. No.

What exactly the fuck do you mean?

'Nuff said?

....that is, all of you who are so pleased to declare that Garrison is this, or that. When did you stop getting satire? When did you lose your sense of humor? Or proportion?

Well, try to get it back somewhere else. Calling someone a racist who is so clearly not to most of us is really just self-righteous self-aggrandizement. You won't be missed.

Another not really that funny piece by Keillor that must have taken all of ten minutes to jot down and send off.

Some of you who do not like or get Garrison Keillor are very much like the bumbling people who live in Lake Woebegone, but your manners are very much worse.

Poster TK of the Red Star: Do you realize that GK's entire schtik, his whole fame and fortune, his complete "genius" boils down to being an anachronism?

Do you think "A Prairie Home Companion" is the hippest, most cutting-edge name he could come up with for his radio show? It's not. It is an anachronism. On purpose.

GK is a great story-teller. It helps if you know who he is, and if you can hear his voice telling what he writes.

Much of your criticism reminds me of people who do not know that Paul McCartney once had a band called the Beatles, and people who pronouce Mozart as it is spelled, and people who think of Alphabetical Order as a fairly advanced concept.

More basic background knowledge would increase your comprehension and enjoyment of Garrison Keillor's writing, and of many other aspects of life. Read something else for a while, and listen to "A Prairie Home Companion," and then see what you think about GK.

Merry Christmas to all!

God or whoever bless us, everyone. A Christmas epistle from the Old Scout that doesn't attempt to revive the legends of Smilin' Jack Kennedy, Hubert the Hump Humphrey, or good old "Fritz" Mondale or try to duck and weave over the fact that the Old Scout himself is a closet racist with quasi-Fascist views who likes to wear the smiley-face mask of "liberalism" (or what passes as such in America as we careen into the 21st. century)...

It could cause one to weep with joy (or relief). Feed him a nice Christmas goose and hope that retirement looms soon. A modest prediction: when he does retire, he'll show up at the Heritage Foundation, espousing a kind of cornpone "populism" that will cause the likes of Roy Blunt or Tim Pawlenty to blush.

If internet gambling was legal in Minnesota, I'd make a fortune.

Don't be too hard on Rob. It's difficult spreading so much malice at this time of year. Why else would he recycle a months-old blog post instead of taking the time to write something new and just as clever? I mean, it's not like he could just keep his mouth shut if he didn't have anything new (or smart) to say.

"A Modest Proposal" is only peripherally about the problems of overpopulation. Its main focus is absentee landlords and the dehumanization that becomes possible when we don't see the suffering we inflict on others.

"Geezer"? Weak, dude.

Garrison Geezer

Earlier this week Garrison Keillor once again made an ass of himself on the virtual pages of Salon.com This time Mr. Woebegon had the brilliant idea that every person who wishes to run for President of the United States must have in their background a term of military service. Many have suggested that Garrison (ironic-sounding name considering his thesis, don't you think?) was merely joking in the Swiftian vein of "If there are too many Irish orphans then let us commence eating them." This may be so; only old Prairie Home Companion knows for sure. But I rather doubt it on the evidence of his column. Either he's serious or his "satire" is so well camouflaged as to be invisible. Kind of like Dick Cheney's recent quail hunting partner. If you are one of those who actually agrees with this nonsense, then I have some orphan munching of my own to offer you. To wit...

No one who has earned more than $50,000 a year can be elected President. Also, no one who has ever owned a cat. No one who has ever owned a dog, either, those four-legged bags of wet-nosery. No one who has eaten Skittles, neither. And, most definitely, no one who has ever been caught* picking their nose in public.

No man or woman who has ever experienced more than two orgasms in their lifetime should be allowed to run for our highest office. Sexual release drains the precious bodily fluids and thus saps a person's strength. Over time, this condition could become permanent, and we can't have our Commander-in-Chief walking around without his essence.

Now here are some things I believe a President must have in order to qualify for this high office. First - and this applies to men and women - a flowing, flaxxen beard. Nothing bespeaks wisdom like a good set of chin whiskers. In addition to hair on the face, hair on the chest is a good idea, and again, that goes for the men and the womenfolk. Another requirement, this time just for men, is the possession of a truly awe-inspiring pecker. Nothing shouts "Leadership!" like a sweaty, throbbing, ten-inch cock in a perpetual state of arousal, as long as it is not inserted into any nearby, moistened vaginas. Loss of essence, don't you know.

*Private picking permissible.