WinnieToons Proudly Presents the Commemorative Pope Emeritus Paper Doll Collection

With the Pope stepping down today, the question on everyone’s lips is: How is this going to effect the Pontiff’s spring fashion outlook? In answer to that question, WinnieToons is offering our new commemorative Pope Emeritus paper dolls to celebrate Benedict XVI’s final day as the leader of the faithfully confused. We have barely scratched the surface here. The possibilities are endless and life is short. The Pope Emeritus will no longer be wearying his $20,000 a pair red Prada shoes—those will be handed over to Pope Hammertoes XIII who is yet to be chosen by the infallible technique of reading the color of the smoke from the Vatican barbeque grille.

With the Pope’s new position, there come inevitable changes in fashion outlook. Pictured above is the “Catholic Girls School Uniform Look” with a special nod toward the late Dawn Davenport. The ensemble can also be worn with curlers.

Pictured above is a more “nostalgic” look for the former Joseph Ratzinger. This ensemble is best worn with no pants or a simple pair of (preferably) opaque tights. This look is inspired by the Pope’s formative years as a “Brown Shirt” back in the good old days when he answered directly to an even darker Lord. Small wonder he was known as the “Rottweiler of the Vatican.” He got his training early in life.


While there will still be formal events at the Vatican, Benedict will no longer be wearing the customary embroidered robes we’ve come to expect from him. Gone will be the fly-away capes and faux-hawk he ushered into style. Instead he’ll be taking a tip from Scarlett O’Hara’s costume at Miss Melly’s birthday party—that way he can still steal the show while wearing something that displays his fine, broad shoulders.

The simple gown pictured above will be the Pope’s first time wearing vintage Ballenciaga. The gown was purchased at the Vatican thrift shop, now that his Holiness must be more thrifty since he’s no longer the Lord’s mouthpiece here on earth.

What new collection would be complete without a lounging outfit for evenings at home engaged in self-flagellation? This pink lace teddy is woven completely from human hair and has decorative sprigs of nettles worked into the back to insure maximum discomfort during prayers of contrition.

For daily ready-to-wear, the Pontiff Emeritus may wear this smart green tunic while pretending to be one of Santa’s elves. On kinkier and more free spirited days, his Holiness may don this red and yellow jumper (on the right)—inspired by those weird costumes Michelangelo designed to make the Vatican guards feel like a bunch of self-conscious, embarrassed carnival clowns. You’ll note that this outfit calls for being accessorized with a red pump with a low, stacked heel. Let’s not kid ourselves, we all know he’ll keep at least one pair of red pumps if only to vex his successor.

For trips into town Benedict will need to keep a low profile so as to dodge the paparazzi and the parents of Catholic school children who might want to have a word or two with him. This simple but chic ensemble is just the look required. Who wouldn’t accept a poison apple from someone wearing such a stunning silhouette? Watch for these and other Pope inspired fashions to soon become available at a Walmart somewhere near you.

– Disassociated Press, 2/28/2013


Seques-frustration – The New Fiscal Cliff Brought to You by The Good People of the GOP, All of Whom Belong in Straight Jackets

Everywhere you turn you hear the word “sequester” and “sequestration.” Seques-frustration is more like it–or sequeserbation. Below is the technical definition of ‘sequestration’ which I doubt will clear up the matter but it does suggest a solution. Congress needs to merely reapply the definition of the word sequestration by sequestering the entire Republican Party to a lunatic assylum.

se·ques·ter  (s-kwstr) v. se·ques·tered, se·ques·ter·ing, se·ques·ters
1. To cause to withdraw into seclusion.

2. To remove or set apart; segregate. See Synonym: Isolate.

3. Law – as in a sequestered jury.

a. To take temporary possession of (property) as security against legal claims.
b. To requisition and confiscate (enemy property).
c. Chemical separation of elements.

Pajamas for an ambitious but sleepy brain. Shackles might help, as he probably has restless leg too.

In terms of our own lives, sequestration means the Republican Party is willing to hurl the American economic recovery into paralysis–or worse–regression, by cutting spending while blindfolded and wielding a chainsaw. The GOP is doing so in the hopes that voters will actually be gullible enough to believe it’s all the black guy’s fault. Granted, the White House made a flawed calculation that the House Republicans would actually cave and embrace the concept that fairness and sanity are always the best path to follow. But the GOP knuckleheads don’t care if the poor, the sick and the elderly are harmed. They don’t care if the veterans they sent off to war are left neglected. They don’t care if educational programs are cut. They don’t care if vital government services and related industries are forced to layoff people–who then can’t afford to buy goods and services down the line which are all vital to our recovery as a nation. The Republican Party is very quick to vote to fund wars and other morally bankrupt ideas, but very slow to come forward and honor those commitments when it comes to paying for them. The best way to avert the ‘sequester’ is to say “‘POOF’ and be gone damned sequester.” It’s a manufactured crisis threatening self-inflicted national wounds.

John Boehner can’t control his own fractured party. No one could, it’s a sinking ship of fools.

Eric Canor doesn’t care if the nation swirls down the toilet. He’s delighted that sequestration might be a chance to make Barack Obama look bad in the eyes of people incapable of reading or speaking in whole sentences, let alone grasping rational thinkng—but Cantor’s real secret agenda is to see John Boehner fail so that HE, the almighty egotistical Eric Cantor can personally rise politically and become the next Speaker of the House. Virginia Representative Cantor is all about personal ambition. The rest of the world be damned. To Eric Cantor sequestration is a tool. News flash: Eric Cantor is a “tool.”

John Boehner has proven himself completely incompetent when it comes to controlling his own political party, which is undeniably populated with crazy people–but that might be Boehner’s most redeeming quality. Anyone who could actually control that congress of baboons would have to have signed a pact with the devil, because there’s hardly a sane or honest person left in the Republican Party serving in either House of Congress. Unless you’ve been in a coma for the past decade, you know that the GOP is on a self-destructive and purposeful decline in an effort to appease the most extremist faction of their base. And their base is truly and unquestionably the very definition of the word “base.” The House of Representatives, while still (barely) in Republican control, is one badly wounded elephant.

Mitch McConnell, the Senate’s own warm and fuzzy minority reptile.

The Senate has remained in Democratic hands, and while Senate Majority Leader, Harry Reid has the unique gift of being able to simultaneously disappoint every conceivable political political viewpoint, what keeps his career alive, is Minority Leader, Mitch McConnell, who is by far and away a worse alternative by a long shot. One would prefer to see a Kardashian running the senate than see McConnell in charge. Harry Reid at heart actually cares about the best interests of the American people. But Mitch McConnell doesn’t give a rat’s ass about anything but himself. He hasn’t yet embraced the reality that like all other humans and subhumans, he won’t live forever, and he won’t get to take all his accumulated toys with him when he’s called home to his satanic maker. McConnell believes that if Americans face a setback in our Republican inflicted economic recession, they will get away with blaming it on Obama. So sequester borne famine spells personal success for Mitch McConnell, hoping it will one day sweep him into power, and he’ll be given Harry Reid’s job. McConnell up for reelection by the way. So if you live in Kentucky, vote for Ashley Judd in the primary, if for no other reason than she’s appreciably easier to look at than Mitch McConnell–but then again so is a dissected frog. (No offense Ashley, you’re a knockout and hopefully a shoe-in.)



Mitt Romney’s sidekick and bat boy, Robin.

Paul Ryan is willing to see the nation face a fiscal sequester, because Ryan’s strong suit is anything but math. He was schooled in the “new math” which is defined by making-up whatever equation best suits your end goal then batting your doe eyes, and hoping no one remembers that you’re nothing more than the male version of Sarah Palin. Paul Ryan “rushed” his political ambitions by jumping onto Mitt Romney’s sinking ship-. Now he’s jumping onto the sinking ship of sequestration. It’s as if he’s magnetically drawn to failure.

Rand Paul: Living proof that mental illness is an inherited condition.

Rand Paul, like Mitch McConnell is also from Kentucky, but he’s poisoning the Senate rather than the House. And like McConnell, Rand Paul is also completely out of his mind, but he come by it honestly. Apparently insanity is an inherited gene. Rand Paul is an idealist in his own mind, but a nihilist in reality. That said, to me, he’ll always be “Aqua Buddha” which sounds like a cheap aftershave available only at Walmart. Rand Paul’s sole purpose in government is to vote against everything and anything in the single-minded effort to grant full permission for people to do anything they want, including denying goods, services and rights to anyone whose complexion doesn’t match his own. Rand Paul is a former ophthalmologist turned politician who prides himself on shortsightedness. Rand Paul’s whole platform lacks vision, with the end goal of abolishing taxes and all other laws so he can use automatic weapons to pick-off peons trying to storm his luxurious family compound once he’s managed to take everything away from all other Americans not to the manor born. Rand Paul would gleefully cast a vote to have the planet exploded by an asteroid because that would probably make sense to him.

For anyone Jonesing for the bad old daze of Joseph McCarthy and the John Birch Society, Ted Cruz is your man–up until he comes after you.

The new face of evil championing the sequester is Texass Representative Ted Cruz, who is keeping the spirit of McCarthyism alive by filibustering everything including bathroom privileges because he doesn’t personally require them. He’s constipated and damned proud of it. He’s also a Pee Tardy PeeRublican, which is a backassward way of saying he represents an alternative universe and not the State of Texas. Cruz represents the State of Confusion. He’s incapable of saying anything that isn’t loaded with unfounded innuendo. He can’t connect dots, so he assumes no one else can either. Cruz said “I made promises to the people of Texas that I would come to Washington to shake up the status quo, to fight for conservative principles and to lead a concerted and meaningful effort to end the unsustainable spending, deficits and debt that have been propagated, unfortunately, by members of both parties.” Agreed, but those cuts need to be targeted and focused. It’s not a blindfolded game of ‘pin the tail on the donkey.’


All of the aforementioned Republicans are fond of the phrase “kick the can down the road.” All politicians like that line. But there is no published plan coming from any of the Republicans on how to reduce the deficit, but they insist that the president doesn’t have one either, but he does. They may not like his plan, but he has one, and it’s published. Here’s the link: – Follow any of the options for the sequester or deficit reduction.

- Disassociated Press, 2/27/2013
*       *       *       *       *
And now for a special ‘thank you’ to all the people who graciously donated to my KickStarter fundraising page to help get my book, An Early Work Late in Life published. You can still access the page but it is no longer accepting pledge funds.
The book went to press today, and will be available this coming spring, 2013. Watch for details.
More updates are available on my other blog:

Impure Michigan

This baby faced man is the embodiment of evil. While hiding behind American patriotism, his tactics and endgame are those of a dictator bent on flying in the face of the  democratic process.

There is something frightening happening in the state of Michigan and it merits national attention, a response and a remedy. Americans need to know about Michigan Governor, Rick Snyder, his motives, goals and the dangers he presents to American freedoms as already demonstrated by the hateful policies he has implemented in his state.

Governor Snyder is well under way with full scale convolution of the the democratic process by marginalizing 50% of the black vote in Michigan–taking over towns, cities and municipalities through his own definition of eminent domain–tossing out duly elected officials and replacing them with his own appointees while cleaning out the town coffers and trampling on the rights of his constituents and property owners. Rick Snyder can, and literally has gone into communities, overturned elections, declared towns bankrupt, taken the land, including schools and public parks then turned it all over to private developers to benefit the wealthy. The people of Michigan put the governor’s practices to a vote in a public referendum, and won. However, Snyder overturned the will of the people and ran ramshackle over their vote by implementing new “emergency laws” that neatly prevents 50% of Michigan’s black population from having any say in their government, and in many cases ownership over their own land. You expect this kind of corruption in a banana republic–not in the late great state of Michigan. Don’t believe everything you hear on the tourism ads.

Michigan’s once majestic Central Train Station. If you plan on visiting, don’t go by train.

We’ve all seen those TV travel ads–Pure Michigan. Sand in-between your toes on the shores of Lake Michigan… Fly-fishing off rustic, weathered gray-wooden docks while children splash and play in the shallows by the shoreline. Perfect sunsets and glowing sunrises warm acres of green forests ripe with hidden hiking trails waiting to be discovered. Indeed, Michigan is a beautiful state which has benefited tremendously from it’s multimillion dollar ad campaign to bolster a suffering national image and lure tourists to enjoy the state’s wondrous natural riches. The TV ad beckons us with teary-eyed views of picturesque lighthouses while the background music sounds hauntingly familiar, like it might be the soundtrack to ‘The Cider House Rules.’ In fact, I think it is… In addition to all that natural beauty, Michigan is experiencing a manufacturing Renaissance of a sort—especially now that President Obama has rescued the automobile industry.  Word has it the auto manufacturing sector is pulling out in front of its international competition, once again producing the best and most profitable automobiles in the world. But there’s another Michigan not pictured in the soft-focus, nostalgic ads ripped from the psyche of idealized American pipe-dreams….

Detroit on a good day.

The Michigan Board of Tourism doesn’t feature the urban blight in cities like Detroit, Flint, Ann Arbor, Battle Creek, Grand Rapids, Jackson, Kalamazoo or Michigan’s state capital of Lansing.  Nor should anyone expect them to—that’s not the advertiser’s job—their job is to produce an appealing ad that’s part of a public relations marketing strategy. The tourism board’s warm and fuzzy worldview overlooks any mention of the massive marginalization of the state’s black population or how Detroit has become the national headquarters for the American Nazi Party. The ad campaign invites visitors to come enjoy their “nineteen million acre playground” but fails to caution visitors that the playground is infested with approximately 441 militia hate-groups. It’s almost enough to make a person want to load-up the wife and kids and drive through Michigan at a breakneck speed ridin’ low behind dark-tinted bulletproof glass. These aforementioned downsides are merely the symptoms and not the root-cause of a classic American state in crisis. Michigan is well on it’s way to becoming the most autocratic and frightening police-state in the nation—and by ‘AUTOcratic’ I’m NOT talkin’ cars.

Real estate is going for ‘cheap’ but beware of buying, as you might find out the state has taken it away, right out from under you.

Michigan Governor Rick Snyder is facing serious voter backlash–but why worry about a thing like that when you’ve prevented nearly half the population from voting. Does anyone honestly expect a governor who has been taking over the state’s cities and towns, and deposing duly elected public officials and replacing them with his own appointees and surrogates to play by the rules? Truth to tell, Michigan has effectively rendered democracy as non-existent within its borders.  Snyder undermined massive efforts to have him recalled by tailoring legislation to render ballot measures against him declared illegal. The individuals appointed to oversee all of Michigan’s recall ballot initiatives are the very same people vested with the power to put the kibosh on all signed petitions that lead to ballot initiatives.  This effectively kills publicly popular measures before they ever make it to the polling place.  These are the tactics of a dictatorship bearing no resemblance to any form of governance America claims to embrace.

Doesn’t this look like a fun gathering of level headed psychopaths?

Governor Snyder’s implementation of the “Emergency Management Act” allows the state government under Snyder’s guidance to take-over whole municipalities, seize all their assets, silence anyone who disagrees with them and shut-down the entire city or town.

Yes siree, right in these here United States of America…!!!  Land of the free…

No caption necessary, the image says it all.

Unions are being silenced and proceedings are under way to disband them, thanks to “right to work” initiatives which are deceptively named  much the same way “Citizens United” was christened with a title that’s designed to confuse people into thinking it’s something good. Right to work initiatives give union rights to non-union workers without the workers paying dues. This diminishes the number of union members resulting in the ultimate disbandment of those previously mentioned union “rights.” It’s like telling the lobster to climb into the pot, because the water’s fine. Many years ago under former Governor George Romney, a “2/3′s Majority Law” was put into effect where a ‘no waiting period’ was required for a law to become effective in the event of dire emergency.  That law was intended to deal with natural disasters, the possibility of war or the outbreak of a serious health epidemic. Ever since Republicans seized power in Michigan in 2010 nearly 500 measures have been shotgunned into law as dire emergencies. All but 20 of which have come about by use of the emergency 2/3′s provision—thus effectively denying anyone the right to challenge those laws or file an appeal. Under Rick Snyder, a hangnail could be declared a dire emergency. What’s even more troubling, is the state is putting laws into effect whether the legislature has reached the necessary 2/3′s majority or NOT. Michigander GOP bullies are simply running ramshackle however the hell they please—headcounts and raised-hands be damned.

Meanwhile, things just couldn’t be lovelier in tony Gross Pointe, where the attitude is “if I can’t see it from my house, then it isn’t happening.”

Michigan’s Democratic Party has sued Michigan’s Republican Party and the courts have periodically issued a temporary ‘stay’ on ‘some’ state business until legalities can be sorted out. But that isn’t stopping Governor Snyder, who claims the courts have no jurisdiction over state lawmakers. Meanwhile, schools are being closed without due process. Public-owned parks are being impounded by the state with plans for re-purposing them for private profit-motivated commercial development. Domestic partnership health care benefits for state employees have been stripped, raped and left for dead. If you’re black or a registered Democrat in the state of Michigan, you can look-forward to—no, make that EXPECT—only a 50/50 chance of being permitted to cast your vote ever again in that state.

Whether you work for a union or not, Americans needs to remember that it’s the unions that hold the line that defines the middle class and the key to obtaining the American dream.

Suddenly those misty-eyed views of Michigan sunsets are looking more like back-lighted particles of pollution—but not from factories—rather from corruption and a tyrannical disregard for citizen’s rights and the United States Constitution. The Michigan tourism ads make for lovely moving postcards, but the state itself is suffering from a geopolitical cancer in need of immediate treatment and a prompt, effective cure. The Michigan political disease is very, very dangerous, and cannot be allowed to spread. Remember, everything looked oh so pretty on the surface of the Reich-land too—up until history turned over each and every rock and watched what crawled-out from underneath.

Dissociated Press, 2/24/2013

And now for another gratuitous ad to promote my upcoming book which will be available in Spring 2013, about the art and life of Danny Allen.

An Early Work Late in Life by Bill Whiting


In Memorium – A Word About Endings and Loving

A Word About Endings and Loving

We take our days for granted so often. We weep when there are passages and change. We love for whatever reason drives us and we live in spite of the pain.

I don’t know what makes love happen, but I recognize it when it does. Love is more than a feeling; it’s an affirmation of life. We get love where we least expect it. Not just from a lover, a husband, a stranger, a friend, a parent, a child, a mistress or wife. Love is the connection of the gift of permission to truly be open to give. We get by return maybe nothing more than the chance to finally breathe.

Love is a friendship, a touch or a moment that lingers in the back of your mind. Who or whomever opens your heart makes room for all who will follow. Even when you’re parted or they are dearly departed, love is the essence of life.

For all our connections with the people who love us and the people who might not respond, there’s an indescribable love shared only with a pet, be it a dog or a cat, or a parrot or a hamster—or a duck swimming happily in a pond.

Rest in Peace, sweet Duck.


Duck, who was quite rightly spoiled to perfection developed a black beak over time, as she preferred a diet of pure coy (which causes changes in the color of a duck’s beak). Caviar was not always available. And if it wasn’t Beluga, why bother?

Duck D. Duck is based on a real duck who passed away on Valentine’s Day, Thursday, February 14th, 2013. She lived in Texas, and was rescued by a woman we will call “Typist.” Duck was rescued from a public park lakeside where she was the victim of abuse. Suddenly Duck found herself living as the purveyor of her own special custom pond, a safe house away from predators like raccoons, with plenty of food, lots of love at the very ‘center of the universe.’

Duck was catapulted to international stardom on WinnieToons, where she began her career as our Gulf Coast Corespondent during the Deepwater Horizon oil spill. Winnie and Duck went on from there to have any number of adventures, including Duck’s bid for the presidency.

Like all real animals who begin in rescue, we don’t know much about her beginnings, but we know that she climbed to the top of the world, and became an international sensation, purely because she was loved. Duck will continue to appear in WinnieToons as a way to keep her memory alive. Without further explanation, here is a brief look back at some of Duck’s many personae over our last four years here at WinnieToons. Duck will be missed but not forgotten. She lives on in the spirit of joy, rebellion, silliness, laughter and an absurdest appreciation of life.

Duck with a Pearl Earring. One of the lost Vermeers.

Duck was originally discovered by Diana Vreeland. She considered Anna Wintour to be an upstart.

After a brief but illustrious career on the stage, Duck became tired of Stage-Door Johnnies sending her little blue boxes from Tiffany’s—because the diamonds always got stuck in her throat.

Duck, having already mastered the breaststroke went on to metal on the balance beam in the 2012 London Olympics.

Without missing a beat, she went on to metal in Dressage, where she totally wiped out the Romneys.

We loved her tender, we loved her sweet, and we’ll never let her go.

Duck offered us exclusive, courageous inside coverage of the Fukushima Power Plant meltdown.

Duck demonstrating how avian nuns do yoga.

Duck was a master of Eastern Martial Arts. Shown here reenacting Hillary’s historic visit to China.

Duck had an obsession with Charo. Clearly they were soul-mates with a deep spiritual connection.

Duck, who was nothing, if not discreet, never bragged about actually being the one hitting the high notes while Diana Ross simply did the lip syncing.

Duck crossing the Alps.

Duck was the quintessential feminist, and when she called for Putin to release Pussy Riot, she drew attention to what a pussy Putin really is, pointing out that a real man isn’t frighted of strong and independent young women with opinions.

Duck knew how to work any ensemble, and she could drink you under the table.

As a Wagnerian Rhine maiden performing in the Rinse Cycle at the Metropolitan Opera.

Duck kept her private life, private, although there were rumors….

….and more rumors….

The rumors of her wild private life led to various conversions of faith which allowed her to really let her freak flag fly—they truly know how to party at the Vatican.

But if one faith didn’t suit her, she dabbled in another….

But for all her many personae, Duck was at heart, a simple country girl from Texas who could shoot the pants off Wayne Lapierre in a skeet match any day.

In closing, WinnieToons tribute to the real Duck D. Duck, wants to leave you with one final thought: Love your life. Love your friends. Love your family and all who love you. And never forget to love your pets, because no one else will ever love you back with so much purity.

Duck D. Duck. Birth date unknown – 2/14/2013 – Rest in Peace.

President Obama Doesn’t Get President’s Day Off, But Congress Does?

Too weak to speak, Speaker of the House, John Boehner has never been able to get a handle on the nihilists that comprise the Tea Party base.

President Obama is one of the most respectful men who has ever held the office of the presidency, but disrespecting him from his first day in office has been a long standing tradition for today’s conservative base. Obama’s not a blithering idiot, like our previous Commander in Chief, but that’s not how conservatives choose to see him.

Today is President’s Day–a day when we honor our floundering fathers with a paid day off, if you’re lucky enough to have a job. So like all other holidays (be they religious or national) no one will observe the original purpose assigned to the day in favor of taking advantage of slashed prices at one-day-only sales that generally last over two weeks. Today should be officially renamed President’s Half Day Off Sale. Retailing, which has always been closely related to the world’s oldest profession, will leap at nearly any excuse to entice customers. Watch for the next St. Swithin’s Day Sale coming soon to a big box store somewhere near you. Or maybe Saint Swindling’s Day Sale is more like it.

Rep. Eric Cantor, of Virginia, (R) which stands for “Restricted Wing” has his beady little eyes on John Boehner’s job.

While speaking of the world’s oldest profession, and still on the subject of swindling, politics immediately leaps to mind. Based on the abysmal whorish shenanigans of the 113th Congress and the four years that preceded–there’s a whole new joyless meaning to the words “sexual congress.” This, in spite of 311 billion people getting screwed on a daily bases. It makes for a particularly impressive “enhanced” performance considering Congress is almost never in session. At last count your average congressperson puts in about a three day work week. The rest of their time is spent golfing, making deals with the devil and campaigning for office, so they can enjoy lifetime benefits unfathomable to genuine working Americans: Things like free health care for life, and a pension that retains their full salary. It’s a pretty sweet deal, especially when you compare it to being an unemployed factory worker in a struggling economy where all the jobs have been outsourced to China. House Majority leader, Eric Cantor, thinks that America’s financial woes can be cured by further starving the elderly, the out-of-work, the disabled and the poor without increasing taxes on the upper two percentile. You don’t see him jumping up and down offering to take a pay cut or put a cap on the Congressional Benefits Package. He must have studied math under Paul Ryan.

Ever the dollar stretcher, Paul Ryan based his budget plans on the law of diminishing returns–for everyone but he and his cronies.

Inaction is where our Congress excels. They’re like one giant elected intestinal blockage in search of a stool softer. The House Republicans are particularly committed to constipating the economy in an endless effort to thwart any and all efforts on the part of the president to deliver us from the economic swamp his predecessor led it into. The House Republicans collective disrespect for our president will lead them to do anything, including chopping themselves off at the knees and dismembering their own body politic, just to insure continued campaign funding from the “entitled” privileged class. All this, of course, while fighting to deny the entitlements average working American have paid into their entire lives. Be it a bevy of swans, a school of bats, a flotilla of whales, or an embarrassment of riches: It has always been and always will be a congress of baboons.

Economic obstructionism has been one of the primary techniques used by congressional Republicans to discredit the president. They create a problem, then blame it on Obama. They think “blame it on Obama” has a catchy ring to it–like Blame it on the Bosa Nova. Whether it was the “Fiscal Cliff,” the “Debt Ceiling” or the current looming “Sequestration”–GOP lawmakers decided a long time ago that their party wasn’t about governing–they’re about power and the accumulation of narrowly distributed wealth. So as we shop today on President’s Day, reflect on the irony that Congress has the day off… and the day after that… and probably the day after that… but the president is still at work.

– Dissociated Press, 2/18/2013

And now for another in my series of gratuitous ads to promote my upcoming book which will be available in Spring 2013, about the art and life of artist, Danny Allen.

An Early Work Late in Life by Bill Whiting

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Ted Nugent Suffering from IBS to the Center of His Mind

Alleged homosapien, Rep. Steve Stockman (R) of TexAss, pictured here with Marco Rubio’s bottle of polluted spring water.

Apparently some Americans think they need guns to protect themselves from people who think they need guns to protect themselves from people who think they need guns to protect themselves….ad nauseum. And black helicopters are going to swoop down and get them…. And the president is a secret Muslim…. And Bigfoot might be lurking in the backyard. Aside from poor judgement and bad taste, Americans hold nothing in higher esteem than indulging in paranoid fantasies and conspiracy theories. With this in mind, shallow thinking opportunists, like Texas congressman, Steve Stockman labor under the mistaken impression that it was going to raise his stock when he invited Ted Nugent to be his personal guest at President Obama’s State of the Union address. It did not. It knocked him down even lower on the political food chain, if that’s even possible. One is left to wonder if either Nugent or Stockman have the intellectual mindset to grasp any of the president’s words? Were either of them marginally effected by the painful presence of people in the audience who have had their lives shattered by gun violence? It’s doubtful.

Ted Nugent is the man who got a doctor’s note for irritable bowel syndrome, thus excusing him from carrying a gun to serve his country—but suddenly he’s the false patriot who carries a gun to murder endangered species instead.

Why in the world is Ted Nugent being passed off as relevant in the first place? He was a second rate rocker with forgettable white trash hits like ‘Cat Scratch Fever’ from which he has never fully recovered—but apparently still suffers from royalties. Nugent  specialized in the heavy-metal equivalent of elevator music, only without the elevator ever quite making it to the penthouse. I’ve maintained all along that the journey to the center of Ted Nugent’s mind revealed only an echo chamber. And rapid gunfire in an echo chamber has to be pretty deafening. His being an empty mind which will at it’s center spew comments like: “If Barack Obama becomes the president in November, again, I will either be dead or in jail by this time next year.” Tell us, Ted, was that a multiple choice question? Begging the even more disturbing query—what kind of irresponsible fool brings Ted Nugent as his guest to the State of the Union Address?

It’s time for America’s lowest common denominator fascination with gun culture to come to an end. It’s time for our children to feel safe, loved and properly fed and educated. It’s time for the quality of our entertainment—be it music, film, television, digital games or what have you—to reflect the character of a people who want to set new standards for human rights, cultural growth and shared prosperity. We are a war weary nation who needs to tend to our self-inflicted wounds.

It’s no secret that the only person making sense in the gun debate, is Barack Obama.

Moments before the president took to the podium to speak, fugitive former LAPD officer, Christopher Dorner was holed up and presumably killed in a blaze of gunfire, begging the question: If a policeman and former military serviceman can’t responsibly handle the possession of rapid-fire weapons, can anyone?

Arguably, the most powerful portion of the president’s address pertained to gun violence. We’ve become a sick nation who cannot heal itself harboring the idea that guns are the answer when they’re at the root of the problem. And if gun nuts don’t want to see their guns taken away and their paranoid fantasies realized—they need to understand that people bring about their own worst fears by fanning the flames of those fears. No one wants to take away anyone’s Second Amendment rights, but there is no mention of rapid-fire killing machines in the Constitution. Nor should they be part of Ted Nugent’s constitution, as apparently he shits himself rather easily.

– Dissociated press, 2/14/2013

And now for another gratuitous ad to promote my upcoming book which will be available in Spring 2013, about the art and life of Danny Allen.

An Early Work Late in Life by Bill Whiting

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Pope Benny Gives up the Papacy for Lent – A WinnieToons Wrap-up of Pope Benedict’s Checkered Career

Pope Benny is going to “aphasia” himself out by giving up the very Papacy itself for Lent. This being such an historic moment in Catholic history, WinnieToons thought it would be only appropriate to take “respectful” a look back at the 265th Pope, who began his checkered career of public service as a Hitler Youth brown shirt. Pope Benedict XVI has transitioned seamlessly from one misguided cult to another. But let’s start with his predecessor, Pope John Paul II.

When Benny the Sixteenth was anointed by pure white smoke, the Catholic Church was already embroiled in multiple international scandals concerning sexual impropriety, and up to their eyeballs in lawsuits. The faith that makes other people feel terrible about their own sexuality and human failings has had centuries of closet debauchery, thievery and other misguided behavior unbecoming of the Lord’s Representatives Here On Earth. It all started with hoarding stuff. The Catholic Church has a LOT of stuff. In fact they could cure world hunger and disease with one single basement yard sale. And it was the acquisition of “stuff” that resulted in Popes and priests being prevented from marrying—in the fourth century (306 AD to be precise)—the Catholic clergy, prior to that had wives and mistresses kind of like normal people. Ultimately priests were prevented from marrying because those clergymen would try to leave all their accumulated gold, graven images and embroidered drag outfits to their sons. That meant the Church got to inherit less “stuff.”

Christian doctrine, strictly followed, isn’t supposed to be focusing on collecting “stuff” but we’re all glad that Bernini and Michelangelo, among others created breathtaking masterpieces depicting religious mythology. It’s all beautiful “stuff,” but it isn’t exactly a reflection of a “vow of poverty.” Catholicism has been so obsessed with “stuff,” that the Villa Doria Pamphili in Rome is filled to the brim with privately owned artistic masterpieces collected by one of history’s past Pope’s “nephews,” appointed as the Papal Art Collector, giving birth to the term “nepotism” which is derived from the Latin word for nephew. Proving that the Catholic Church was already off message well over seventeen centuries ago.

With priests no longer marrying, there was a period in the dark ages where nuns were abused like slave whores, but homosexuality, while officially damned by the Church, was as rampant as backroom sex in a gay bathhouse in the Big Apple’s “meatpacking district.” Of course, the most vulnerable being the young people, male or female given over to the whims of mere humans who abused their role as faith leaders believing a “holy” status left them above reproach. It has taken centuries to shed light on the dirty little secrets of the Catholic Church. Christ himself wouldn’t recognize Christianity as what took root from His teachings. Looking at what the Church as devolved into over the centuries, from sexual impropriety to religious wars, all of which I’m reasonably certain was NOT part of Christ’s core message.

One doesn’t need a degree in rocket science to figure out that families who had sons and daughters who didn’t  fit the mold of day to day living, were shipped off to become part of the mold growing within the soul of a religious cult that long ago abandoned it’s mission in favor or the pursuit of wealth, power and secrecy. Even as a small boy I was warned about having anything to do with priests, and several of my friends had their first, and most bewildering sexual experiences with clergymen.

When I was still too young to grasp the point of sexuality, some force drove me. along with other neighborhood boys to indulge in naked experimentation well prior to technical puberty. I had a Catholic friend, who we will call, Giuseppe, keeping his real name a secret. Giuseppe “served” as a choirboy at the local Catholic Church. He was the source of most of what I was told about the escapades of priests. Giuseppe was particularly invested in naked experimentation, and had extensive prior experience. Decades later, I ran into him with his wife at our 25th high school reunion, where he drunkenly whispered to me that he often recalled of our childhood sexual experimentation to help him through difficult performance problems with his wife. I wound that conversation right up, and got the hell away from him as soon as I could.

Giuseppe was a tan-skinned Italian boy with jet-black hair and forty-two teeth. He and I found an area where a dog had dug a trench under a great overgrown lilac bush that was half in my back yard and half in the yard next door. Giuseppe and I would loosen our trousers and poke around doing things on which I don’t feel its necessary to elaborate. You get the picture. Giuseppe however wanted to introduce a new element into the festivities—“costumes.” Giuseppe wanted to reenact bible stories in the nude. He had a baby blue blanket he would drape over his head and while assuming the posture of the Blessed Virgin; he chanted “take, eat, this is my body which is given for thee…” Back in the 1950s, the Catholic Church was moving away from Latin and already the ramifications were showing dangerous repercussions on the youth. So now you know why I slowly stepped back from Giuseppe at our High School Reunion. But while I was still a child playing with Giuseppe, Joseph Aloisius Ratzinger, the former Hitler youth was already ensconced in the world of religious teachings, but not yet of the cloth and all the fabulous drag accessories that come with the august station of being a priest, Cardinal or Pope.

The great philosopher, Tallulah Bankhead once said to the bishop at Saint Patrick’s Cathedral during high mass “Dahling, I love your gown but your purse is on fire.” Money has ignited a flame under the Catholic Church. Secret sexuality isn’t the only crime that’s run rampant. The Crusades are a blot on human history. So is the Inquisition, witch burnings, and all manor of unchristian-like behavior. A couple Christmases ago, while fielding a series of sex-scandals, the Pope was implicated in a money laundering scheme with the Cosa Nostra involving automatic teller machines that had hidden fees designed to steal from the Italian citizenry with some of the profits going toward organized crime, and some of the booty going toward organized religion. The Vatican had their bank accounts frozen by the Italian police throughout the investigation, but most of the world never heard a word about it.

That’s where diversionary tactics come in handy. The religion that doesn’t allow its own clergy to marry has been giving marital advice for years, especially on the subject of birth control. So, as the world population surges past an unsustainable seven billion people, Pope Benedict drew attention away from his various and sundry moral transgressions and those of his minions by taking a senseless stand against condoms, birth control, women’s health and abortion. A smart bunch of capitalists seized on this hypocrisy and launched “Papal Brand Condoms.” I kid you not. Catholics when anonymously polled, overwhelmingly approve of birth control. Most thoughtful people do.

But Pope Benny was widely known as God’s Rottweiler while he was still a mere Cardinal, long before becoming Pope. In fact his tenure as Pope has been nearly as catastrophic and mishandled as the Bush Administration with their poorly thought out diversionary tactics. And as George Bush destroyed the Republican Party, leaving it in ratty tatters, Pope Benedict may well leave the Catholic Church in a shredded shroud of Ratzinger. Benny had a disastrous run in his red Prada shoes, the cost of which would have been better spent on world hunger and population control. But Benedict had grown accustomed to his luxuries. And old ‘habits’ (ahem) as they say, die hard, especially when those habits are ‘nun too good…’

…and the Catholic Church along with Catholic football teams continued unabated throughout the Pope’s career, indulging in a long standing tradition of closeted behavior and sinning in secret. Only the Pope himself can air his own laundry before the eyes of his god. That said, the Pope’s own “trusted” manservant and personal valet, spilled many of his Holiness’ eyebrow raising secrets to the media with tales of shady dealings and behavior that would shame the deities the Pope portends to worship and elevate.

So in closing, it is my opinion that organized religion is in general a cult designed to prevent people from thinking for themselves, and using fear of damnation to pile-up cash on the collection plate. Meanwhile, churches are shuttering their doors—lovely buildings rich with ornamentation across the world are now left with the problem of re-purposing these architectural treasures into something defined as useful. How about an efficiency apartment in the bell-tower? That would work for a quasi-macho like me.

Goodbye, Benny, goodbye. I hope your successor is every bit as colorful. We’ll miss all the laughs we had together.

– Disassociated Press, 2/11/2013


And now for another gratuitous ad to promote my upcoming book which will be available in Spring 2013, about the art and life of Danny Allen.

An Early Work Late in Life by Bill Whiting


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I Fought My Weight and My Weight Won—I Fought My Weight and My Weight Won

I Fought My Weight and My Weight Won—I Fought My Weight and My Weight Won. I’ve battled my weight my entire life. I’ve been fat, thin, too thin, too fat, kind of handsome, and totally invisible while blocking someone else’s view. I know my way around a cookie jar and a doctor’s scale. In fact, right after I wrote the preceding sentence and had to go downstairs and make myself a sandwich, and I’m already craving another. So when the subject of Chris Christie’s weight comes up, believe me, as much ridicule as I’ve tossed his way on this blog, I identify with his plight.

Gov. Chris Christie’s 1980 high school yearbook picture.

I understand how he uses self-deprecating humor to make light of being heavy. I also understand how he gets defensive when someone else criticizes him about his girth. I’ve rarely been on the same page as Chris Christie on political issues, but I respect his candor and the way he demonstrated his priorities during Hurricane Sandy. Face it, Jersey, if there’s another coastal flood, you want a governor who can float. I need another sandwich…

Beihl’s 1968 high school year book picture.

Ok, now I’m stuffed to the gills and uncomfortable, and I already know I’ll be hungry again before bed. There was something wonderful about being physically fit (which I no longer am). And there was something exhilarating about feeling handsome. But I felt hungry the entire time. So before I further criticize Chris Christie’s weight, I need to take stock of myself by comparison. To the right is my high school yearbook photo above is Chris Christie’s yearbook photo. Chris Christie was kind of cute, while I on the other hand looked like a garbage bag full of cottage cheese wearing horn-rimmed glasses.

Me in my fifties.

I have prematurely declared myself to be a old man, because it occurred to me that I was put on earth to be a curmudgeonly old fart with a Jack Russell terrier. But back in my fifties, I had a spectacular time during my midlife crisis, starving myself half to death and allowing a professional fitness trainer to put me through my paces. I felt fabulous, but I also felt hungry all the time. It was a hellish balance between willpower and immediate gratification. For a while, sex won, so I stayed physically fit. I got more of almost everything I wanted when I was physically fit. Certainly freelance work came my way more easily.

Christie in his fifties.


Granted, I don’t have the weighty responsibilities that a governor faces, but I have seen my share of life’s challenges. With this in mind, it occurred to me that Chris Christie and I are polar opposite people. He’s straight and I’m gay. He’s a republican and I’m a democrat. He was handsome and popular in high school and I was too fat to fit into my locker when kids tried to slam me inside it. He’s rich and I’m poor. He’s obese in his fifties, and I was “smokin’ hot” if I say so myself. These days, I look like the Travelocity lawn gnome, only with a slightly better fashion sense.


I’m sorry that Chris Christie’s children had to hear on TV that their dad is a walking heart attack, but it’s true. He is, however, the closest thing the Republican Party has to a reasonable politician, which is a frightening thought. Whether you like him or not, and whether HE likes it or not, the man needs to lose weight for the sake of his own health. So suddenly Chris Christie and I finally have something in common: I need to take off some tonnage too, if only to avoid buying a whole new wardrobe. God these pants are tight after that third sandwich. The pity is, Chris Christie isn’t really a bad looking man under all that blubber and bluster.

Dissociated Press, 2/8/2013

And now for another gratuitous ad to promote my upcoming book which will be available in Spring 2013, about the art and life of Danny Allen.

An Early Work Late in Life by Bill Whiting



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Winnie & Duck Explain Football

I posted the following comment on Facebook last night before the Superbowl game: “I’m going to pretend I’m masculine tonight and go to a Superbowl party. I’m bringing a baguette and gourmet dips. I might be the only gay guest. I hope no one notices. I don’t understand football. I’ll watch the commercials and halftime activities. To me, watching football is like watching white blood cells eat red blood cells under a microscope. Then the winning cells all get concussions and go home and murder their wives. At least that’s how I think the game works. I certainly hope there’s locker-room interview.”

Traditional NFL quarterback armpit sniffing. Someone’s gotta do it.

Last night was the first time I realized that the most compelling part about football is when “all the single ladies” get to prance about on stage and blowout the New Orleans power-grid, including that on the gridiron. My baguette and gourmet dips were a sensation, but I was a little disappointed in the commercials.

I’m told the highlight of the game was a very long run from one end-zone to the other. I was impressed with all that talk of end zones, tight ends, wide receivers and straight dudes hugging and belly butting. I still think the game is too violent, but I’m a self avowed Nancy-man. In my opinion, the highlight of the evening was every single close up of Baltimore Raven’s quarterback and MVP, Joe Flacco. That dude is totally hot. I will buy any product he endorses just so long as his picture is on the packaging. If his shirt is off I’ll take two of each. Still, the game eludes me, and I fell asleep before locker room interview, if in fact there was one other than the one that visited me in my dreams. I continue to maintain the game would be more interesting played in the nude. The boys might be more careful with each other, or maybe not. It works for me either way.

– Dissociated Press, 2/4/2012

And now for some shameless self promotion: I have my first book coming out in spring, An Early Work Late in Life. In the meantime, I’m trying to get people to visit my arts funding page to help me defray the costs of self-publishing. Watch the one minute video here: