Hush Money

Onetime presidential and vice (snicker)-presidential candidate, the haircut formerly known as John Edwards, was indicted yesterday on charges that he illegally funneled campaign funds to his babymama, Rielle Hunter. Edwards received $925,000 from two supporters to help Hunter with prenatal care and other expenses. Prosecutors argue that these funds should be considered campaign contributions, and that this usage of campaign funds for personal expenses is therefore illegal.

While we have little sympathy for Edwards, we think the prosecutors are reaching here. The contributors, Rachel "Bunny" (Bunny?) Mellon and Fred Baron, knew what Edwards needed the money for when they gave it to him: They were specifically not contributing to his presidential campaign. Prosecutors argue that the money was a de facto campaign contribution because, if the story of the affair had come out at the time, it would effectively have been the end of his campaign. Thanks to this illicit money, though, Edwards was able to carry on his triumphant struggle to finish a distant third in the race for the Democratic nomination.

On the one hand, prosecutors are correct in drawing the conclusion that, had the Hunter story broken during the early stages of the campaign, Edwards' presidential aspirations would have ended then and there. After all, no matter how much Southern charm a politician oozes, there is no way he could survive such revelations of sexual impropriety.

On the other hand, this stretches the definition of "campaign contribution" beyond reasonable limits. Indeed, Edwards seems to have gone out of his way to make sure he was not dipping into campaign funds to support Rielle: That's why he went on the downlow to enlist his friends' support.

Again, we do not justify Edwards' misbehavior. How much sympathy can you have for someone whose legal defense is, literally, "I didn't use the money for my campaign; I used it to hide my pregnant mistress from my wife!" But there is, after all, a huge distance between tacky and illegal.

Solipsistography
"Edwards Charged with Election Finance Fraud"

Sin-cere Thoughts

The Solipsist is celebrating the high academic holy days (intersession), whiling away the hours reading and blogging and eating unhealthy amounts of Cheez-It Snack Mix (seriously, the stuff's better than crack). Yesterday, a Facebook friend playfully (?) accused us of sloth, the most adorable of the seven deadly sins, especially when hanging upside down from a tree branch.

Speaking of deadly sins, without googling, can you name all seven? We got sloth, greed, gluttony, envy, wrath, and pride right off the bat. Armchair psychoanalysts may read what they will into our difficulty coming up with the seventh (lust); perhaps we don't think it should be a sin? Perhaps we don't.

Looking at the list, though, we noticed only two or, at most, three distinct sins. After all sloth, gluttony, greed, envy, and lust are just five sides of the same. . .uh, five-sided coin: desire--desire for sleep, food, stuff, other people's stuff, or sex. Even pride is really just the desire for status. The only deadly sin predominantly directed externally is wrath. We could economize tremendously by streamlining the list: Desire and wrath.

Of course, if you put it like that--making people feel bad for wanting anything--you're really laying a bummer of a trip on folks. People might start to question a religion that transforms basic human drives into mortal sins. We know we would.

Thursday Health Update

"BERLIN — An unusually lethal strain of E. coli bacteria has infected more than 1,500 people in Germany, mystifying public health officials, ravaging Spain’s agricultural heartland, and touching off panic in Europe as people weighed whether it was safe to eat raw vegetables."

Say this for Mother Nature: She has a keen sense of irony.

Of course, we've always suspected that raw vegetables were up to no good. Cooked vegetables, too, for that matter, which, let's face it, are just raw vegetables wearing crusty disguises.

Also today comes news that an Atkins'-style, high-fat, meat-filled diet may not only help people lose weight but may be less heart-harmful than previously feared. Full-fledged carnivores who did at least a little exercise lost weight faster than those on a high-carb diet, and, surprisingly to researchers, showed no negative vascular effects.

Finally, the World Health Organization has reported that cellphone may--MAY--be carcinogenic.

The takeaway: Eat lots of meat, avoid agricultural products, and technology will kill you. Those cavemen may have been on to something, after all.

Solipsistography
"Cellphone Radiation May Cause Cancer, Advisory Panel Says"
"Eating Fat, Staying Lean"
"Virulent E. Coli Strain Spreads in Germany and Puzzles Health Officials"

Frank Talk

The Papaya King has opened a restaurant in Los Angeles. We were shocked to see that hot dogs now retail for $2,25. We remember getting two PK hot dogs for $2.00--and this was the 90's, not some 1950's-era golden age of affordable meat-ish products. We always assumed the dogs were just a loss-leader for the papaya-based beverages.

Papaya King was sort of a forerunner to Jamba Juice--without so much emphasis on things being "good for you" or "healthy" or "non-toxic." On a hot day, if you were in Greenwich Village or the Upper West Side around lunchtime, and you didn't have much cash, you couldn't do better than a couple of crisp juicy franks and a large papaya-strawberry--what would be called a frappucino, now, but at the time was just a spectacularly refreshing frosty beverage.

Papaya King has no illusions about supplanting the legendary LA hot-doggery Pink's. As PK's owner explains, Pink's is more of a fast-food restaurant (starting hot-dog price: $3.45), while Papaya King simply makes hot dogs and fruit drinks. Still we wish Papaya King the best of luck. Who knows? If New York hot dogs make their mark in the City of Angels, maybe culture and sophistication will follow.

Solipsistography
"A New York Dog Makes Its Hollywood Debut"

The Solipsist Likes Liking

During a commencement speech, Jonathan Franzen noted the debasement of the verb "to like." The verb, particularly in its Facebook incarnation, has been co-opted by manufacturers of consumer goods as a way to move product. Franzen's point becomes obvious when one glances at the vast preponderance of "likable" objects on Facebook: U2, "The Life of Brian," macaroni and cheese.

Not all "likes," though, are consumer products. We've noticed that many of our friends "like" all manner of non-commercial items. We see that, Jane Doe likes "Reading"; Mike Smith likes "Movies"; Dave Jones likes "Food." What do these preferences mean? Do they tell us anything specific about these folks--other than the fact that they are presumably sentient? (Perhaps it's more significant that, according to these blurbs, only 178,649 other people also like music. Maybe the Taliban are on to something.)

In the spirit of these tags, and in contravention of the commercializing ethos, we would like to proclaim our own liking for oxygen, tibias, and the cooler side of the pillow.

Solipsistography
"Liking Is for Cowards, Go for What Hurts"

Let's See "True Blood" Deal with This!

If a vampire bites a pregnant woman, would she give birth to a vampire baby? Or, since the woman would, presumably, stop aging, would the baby never be born? Pregnant for eternity. . . .That would suck. (Get it? Vampires? Suck?)

For that matter, if the woman sought an abortion, would the ultra-religious, pro-life crowd oppose it (because abortion is murder) or support it (because vampire babies are evil)? Or, would they let the pregnancy come to term and then drive a stake through the newborn's ticker?

Oh, and, Happy Memorial Day, everybody!

Speaking of "Things Worth Seeing"

The other day we watched "Orphan," a nasty little flick that probably set the Eastern European adoption market back a decade or so.

Generally, horror-movies don't do too much for us (they're more WOS's cup of tea). Most horror movies go more for shock value than anything else, and, let's face it, how much can anything truly shock anybody nowadays? So horror filmmakers go for what Stephen King has referred to as "the gross-out"--the basest form of horror-effect. Blood and guts and gore don't really impress us. (Not that Stephen King considers himself "above" the gross-out. He does, however, aspire for more.)

"Orphan," however, does not rely on the gross-out. There is violence, certainly, but not much blood. Instead, it derives its effects from a slowly building creepiness. Isabelle Fuhrman, a rather gifted young actress, plays Esther, a Russian orphan, adopted by Kate and John Coleman (Vera Farmiga and Peter Sarsgaard). As you might expect, this being a horror movie called "Orphan," Esther turns out to be an evil little thing. But that's all we're going to say about it. You want to know the rest, check it out yourself.