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Hey, Mac—bring those Harris Faulkner videos back!

On the first day of this year I published a lengthy—as is my wont—essay on the proliferation of female news readers on television and the exponential increase in the amount of breast and leg skin surfaces exposed to viewers by some of those women. My dissertation focused on Harris Faulkner and Lauren Sanchez, both employees of Fox News, the former in New York and the latter in California. The following video featuring Laura Sanchez will be replicated at the bottom of this post. I’m including it here in the event that one or more of my viewers might—perhaps but not likely—grow weary of my blathering and cease reading before reaching the bottom—so to speak—and retreat without having had the pleasure of hearing the melodious voice of Laura Sanchez. And the video is worth watching at least twice, even if one is first required to wade through a shallow stream of verbiage—or should that read a stream of shallow verbiage? I won’t mind comments and answers to that question—I’m not particularly thick-skinned, but I can withstand most insults or assaults on my writing.

I used a passage from the Holy Bible to chide the networks and the women, a passage that read in part, her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned, for she hath received of the Lord’s hand double for all her sins, and I intimated that in making that post I was the voice of John the Baptist, the voice of him that crieth in the wilderness.

I grant the notion that I was presumptious and brazen in identifying my voice as the voice of him that was crying in the wilderness, etc., but the reason for that reference should be obvious to any casual visitor to my blog—I can’t resist it. Presumptiousness and brazenness are embedded—so to speak—in my nature and so far in an existence nearing a full eight decades, neither trait has dimmed—nay, both have flourished and continue to flourish.

It is to my credit that I did not quote more of the biblical text concerning the voice crying in the wilderness. I could have cited that part that reads, every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low. Yep, I could have referenced that passage in my post but I did not, although it serves as support—so to speak—for that post.

And now to continue:

And lo, it came to pass that somehow, someone somewhere at sometime following the publication of my scholarly literary effort neutered two of the three YouTube videos that were embedded in my post. Both have been technically comprised and are no longer available for viewing. Both featured the beautiful, highly regarded and spectacularly constructed Harris Faulkner, a regular on Fox News, one blessed with facial and other corporeal features lovely to look upon. The viewing screen still appears on my blog, but when one clicks on the screen the following statement appears, white letters on the black background effectively denying an adoring horde of television viewers—mostly men, I’ll grant you, but perhaps persons of the same sex and those of conflicting gender preferences also enjoy gazing upon the beautifully bountiful bosom of Harris Faulkner:

This video is no longer available because the YouTube account associated with this video has been terminated.

Before I continue I must say that I consider this a violation of free speech, a right guaranteed by our constitution—this is censorship at its worst, or perhaps at its finest, comparable to the blanket of silence that covered Germany during the reign of Hitler. A casual look at my blog statistics will show that those two videos were important factors in the daily lives of my viewers—and mine. Those videos were visual stimulants that, in the words of Dr. Laura Schlessinger, were admonitions for viewers to go out and seize the day—or something.

It’s six o’clock in the morning and I’ve been up and abroad—the term abroad is simply a figure of speech indicating activity—since four o’clock in the morning, so I’ll wrap this up with the tale of a magician on a civilian ocean liner during World War II.

The magician had already made several items disappear, including his highly trained and highly vocal parrot and its cage, several passengers and a table of food with its contents and its seated guests, and in each case brought them back to view when, without warning an enemy torpedo struck the ship and it sank in minutes.

The parrot was bobbing around in its cage amid the flotsam of passengers and furniture and ship’s stores when the magician suddenly surfaced nearby, and the parrot screamed at him—are y’all ready for dis?

Hey, Mac, stop screwing around and bring that boat back!

So how is that joke germane to this post?

Hey, Mac, whoever you are that had the temerity to emasculate those videos—stop screwing around and bring ‘em back!

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Postscript: I am embedding the video of Laura Sanchez in this post as a balm for those that access my blog hoping to see Harris Faulkner, not in the flesh but in an excellent and partial representation thereof. The video of Laura Sanchez perhaps does not completely make up for the loss of the Faulkner videos, but she comes very close to it.

 

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Cleavage: Harris Faulkner, Lauren Sanchez, breasts, dancer, etc . . .

A Voice Crying in the Wilderness

Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God. Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned: for she hath received of the Lord’s hand double for all her sins. The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God—Isaiah 40: 1-3 , King James version.

I’m offering a second and third video of Harris exposed for my readers to review and evaluate. My intent is not to appeal to nor to appease the baser instincts of my viewers, even given the improbability that any such base instincts exist among the throngs that will gravitate to this posting. I only mean to show that the exposures are frequent and nicely composed.

What follows is a voice that crieth in the wilderness, my voice, an adaptation and an interpretation of a passage in the King James version of the Holy Bible, Isaiah 40: 1-3, presented at the beginning of this writing, an effort that I consider is somewhere between an essay and a treatise. This post was prompted by the nature of the clothing worn by a certain statuesque Fox News employee, namely Harris Faulkner, a lovely and tremendously talented lady.

As the voice of the crier that crieth, I crieth on Word Press in an attempt—admittedly a vain attempt—to slow a process that if unchecked could result in our news being nudged towards requiring news readers to perform in the nude, first female newscasters but eventually, inevitably, male newscasters. And come on, do we really want to see a nude Ed Shultz of MSNBC fame haranguing us on his nightly gig, regardless of his state of undress?

Not I! And from that position I offer my adaptation of a passage in the King James version of the Holy Bible:

A Voice Crying in the Wilderness

Comfort her, comfort her, saith I. Speak ye comfortably to Harris Faulkner, and cry unto her that her mission is accomplished. She hath lighted her candle and placed it, not under a bushel, but brightly shining from atop the candlestick of Fox News and lo, that light hath been perceived by the network’s many followers.

Harris needeth not longer to reveal that which should be kept hidden under a bushel, at least hidden well enough to leave something for the imagination. She hath received considerably more than the average woman in a certain locale of her topography and lo, the beauty and bounty of that area hath been adequately demonstrated, and hath been perceived by the multitudes, and appreciation hath been expressed adequately—nay, mightily—by the wielders of the studio cameras and by the beasts of the television field.

This is pure speculation on my part, but I suspect that Harris hath additional visual stimulants to offer the multitudes of those that appreciate such stimulation—nay, lust for such stimulation—but current restrictions forbid further the casting aside of the remnants of her raiment, whether top or bottom or both. A pity, perhaps, in the minds of many, but many would be pleased because television, sadly, is sliding slip-shod and slovenly down a slippery slobbery salivating slope, and at this point I confess that alliteration is and always has been my first love in language—well, at least it is one of my dearest loves.

What’s does this portend for our future television fare? The weather girl, perhaps, stripping and performing a pole dance, slithering around and up and down the pole to demonstrate how a tornado is formed? Put that one on television and see how many Internet hits the video records.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Postscript: I’m adding a related video of another newsreader, just to show that Harris Faulkner is not alone. Lauren Sanchez is an anchor on MY13 news at KTTV FOX-11 in Los Angeles, CA. I selected this dance-themed video because it closely mirrors Lauren Sanchez’ attire when she deliveries her news commentaries—enjoy! Oops, I meant to suggest that the video should be viewed in light of the ever-increasing deterioration of our hallowed values—yeah, right!

 
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Posted by on January 24, 2011 in Humor, news sources, television, Writing

 

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The Obama Diaries—recommended reading . . .

Recommended reading: The Obama Diaries . . .

Laura Ingraham’s latest book can be found in book stores across the nation and in libraries, properly categorized under Humor. It’s purported to contain excerpts from the private diaries of eighteen people in the present government administration, from Barack Obama on down—and I do mean down, to Robert Gibbs and David Plouffe. It’s chock full of laughs and well worth the read. It’s also filled with facts—the book is not foot-noted, but it’s nicely  supported by a voluminous index. Pick a subject, almost any subject, and you’ll find a reference by page number.

You’ll find excerpts from the private diaries of Barack Obama (Ego maximus), Nancy Pelosi (botox cover girl), Michelle Obama (gardener-in-chief), Rahm Emanuel (master of the expletive), Hillary Rodham Clinton (would-be president), Joe Biden (master of the malapropism) and twelve other prominent members of the Obama administration, all letting it all hang out, caricatured as only Laura Ingraham can do.

The diary entries are hilarious, but you’ll laugh out loud only if you lean to the right in your political preferences. If you lean to the left you’ll still laugh, but you’ll stifle the laughter just in case Big Brother is listening.

I do not recommend this book merely for the diaries, no matter how entertaining they may be—I mention them only to reveal the book’s contents. I recommend it for its content other than the satirical diary entries. Rather than reading between the lines, read between the diary entries.

Read and digest the commentary of the author—therein lies the truth about the direction our nation is moving under the auspices of the current administration. Expressed in biblical terms—Matthew 7:7—“Seek and ye shall find.”

I included the image below in an attempt to show the solidarity and mutual respect that exists, or at least should exist, among those that hold lofty positions in our government, and the three people pictured are at the pinnacle of those positions. It’s a nice shot, albeit probably suggested by the photographer, or perhaps by one of the three thus immortalized in the image—it will always be available whether the viewer is attracted to, or repulsed by, its message for the American public. I have expressed some of my thoughts just below the photo.

Study the photo above carefully, with particular emphasis on facial expressions and the positions of hands and arms. A body language expert would have a field day with this one. I am far from being an expert in that field—in fact, body language is just one of millions of fields in which I am not an expert. My knowledge of non-verbal communication is limited to Bill O’Reilly and Tonya Reiman on Fox News and The Factor.  However—and that’s an important however—I can speculate on several items so bear with me on this.

The First Lady and the Veep appear to have a warm relationship, as demonstrated by her left hand on his shoulder and her right hand clasping his right hand. Or is there tension between the two? Is the Veep pushing her hand away from his body or pulling it towards his body? Is the lady pushing his hand away, or pulling it towards her body? Could both be striving to avoid additional body contact by simultaneously pushing the other’s hand away? Perhaps both are striving to increase body contact by simultaneously pulling the other’s hand. It may be nothing more than a friendly handshake, perhaps suggested by the First Photographer, intended to demonstrate the warm relationship between the two, a bond that an adoring public will appreciate and accept.

The president’s gaze is directed downward—is he focused on the Veep’s face or is he watching the hand actions? His arms folded across his chest would seem to indicate rejection of one or both of the other two people. He appears to be warmly dressed, so the room temperature should not be a factor.

Perhaps the Veep has just dropped the F-bomb into their conversation, or has voiced another of his infamous malapropisms, and the president has reacted to that by folding his arms in rejection and expressing his displeasure at the Veep’s remarks. Then again he may be watching the hand action and his arms are folded to indicate either his displeasure, or his resignation and acceptance of the action.

I readily admit that any conclusion derived from observing people’s body language and describing what they are thinking is purely conjecture, especially if that conclusion is formed merely by analyzing a photo. This image would be a gold mine for comedians in a contest to provide a caption—just imagine the deluge that would pour in from late-night talk-show personalities. And just imagine what Saturday Night Live would do with the photo—that skit would be the highlight of the show, a contender for any award.

Please note that my speculations and comments on the photo are intended to be humorous and no offense should be taken, either by those pictured or by any viewer of this posting. It’s all in fun, and if one cannot laugh at one’s self, then one should adhere to Harry S Truman’s admonition that, “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.”

Laura Ingraham’s latest book is available at Costco at an affordable price. No, I have no stock in Costco—all my wealth  is stashed in nylon stockings and buried in my back yard, and it’s earning almost as much interest as it would earn in any bank or credit union—the difference in earnings is negligible and my way is much safer.

I shop at Costco for the bargains and for the various food demonstrations—my wife puts me out to graze when we visit Costco at noon. I believe that our society would be enhanced if the government gave each homeless person a membership in Costco, one that would allow entry but would not allow any purchases. Such a move would provide at least one meal every day, nutritious meals including healthy drinks and low-calorie desserts. Costco could consider such memberships charitable contributions and could therefore use them for tax deduction purposes.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

 
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Posted by on July 16, 2010 in Uncategorized

 

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