Category: Sardonic Side

The sardonic and sometimes sacrilegious humor that is Joe O’Neill’s. Nothing, seemingly, is sacred. Everything, apparently, is fair game.

Silly Saudis

If those 20-something Saudi Arabian men who rode a Wharton High school bus had no malice or deception in mind, why did they initially claim to be Moroccan? Was this, as Ahmed Bedier, the director of the Central Florida Council on American-Islamic Relations, claims, purely a function of a language barrier?

Apparently so. And context, of course, is critical. Now it can be revealed.

The Wharton Wahabis explanation: “We thought they asked us where we wish we were from at that very moment. It was either Morocco or Ireland.”

List Love

We do love our lists, don’t we?

Whether it’s best CEOs or hottest hybrids or most eligible bachelors or lousy senators or great movies or worst scandals. We’re fascinated by rankings and juxtapositions. It’s voyeurism and gossip rendered acceptable. They’re also fun to weigh in on and, in a pinch, can bail you out if you come up banter challenged at the water cooler or cocktail party.

There are also the intriguing incongruities found only in such lists. Cases in point, a couple of recent ones:

“Time” magazine gives us the 100 “most influential people.” In the process, it also gives us Pope Benedict, Diddy Combs, Ayman al-Zawahiri, Howard Stern, Hugo Chavez and the Dixie Chicks in their only appearance in any context.

Then there’s the Library of Congress’ 2006 selections for the National Recording Registry. Safe to assume that this is the only way the Inauguration of Calvin Coolidge and “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On” by Jerry Lee Lewis ever share the same sentence.

But, of course, you have to peruse the entire list to find such gems.

Muslim Image Issues

It sounded like a script from Comedy Central staples “The Daily Show” or the “Colbert Report.” In an effort to promote understanding about the Muslim faith, the Dalai Lama recently met with Muslim leaders in San Francisco.

Some summit outtakes:

*Although the Muslim leaders and scholars needed the help of the world’s most influential Buddhist, there was one technical fly in the good faith ointment. Islam doesn’tactually, well, recognize Buddhism. Maybe it’s the absence of menace. Or that Buddhists are too easy on apostates. Perhaps Muslims are just not wild about saffron.

*The Dalai Lama made the point that terrorists don’t embody the real meaning of Islam. In so doing, he reached new euphemistic depths. “Those few mischievous ones do not represent the whole Muslim community,” he intoned. “Mischievous?” As in the tomfoolery of suicide bombers? “Mischievous?” This isn’t the whoopee cushion crowd but homicidal zealots and the “martyrs” from hell.

*But finally Hamza Yusef Hanson, founder of the Zaytuna Institute in Hayward, Calif., which is dedicated to reviving the sciences of classical Islam, nailed it. Islam, it would appear, needs serious PR help.

“Buddhism gets the best press of any religion in the world,” he pointedly noted. “Islam gets the worst press because it’s associated with war and belligerence.”

You never know when that light will go on.

Going Native In One’s Own Culture

Ever feel like an alien in your own culture?

You know the feeling. You pick up your daily newspaper and at some point check, for whatever reason, “Today’s Birthdays” and are lucky to recognize one name out of 10. And that’s if Walter Cronkite or Mickey Rooney have added yet another digit. But being ingénue-challenged isn’t the worst of it.

Some other signs, I can attest, are cluelessness about who is or was or might be an American Idol winner. Or why it’s even considered “news.” Or why certain people, from the Osbornes to Anna Nicole Smith to Paris Hilton, would have appeal – on any level – let alone as “reality” TV subjects. Or who’s a “survivor,” an “apprentice” – or fearless around worms or whatever. And why anyone could conceivably care.

Or why anyone would seemingly need directions when it comes to wearing a baseball cap or boxer shorts. Or why there’s a market for rap.

Or how it came to be that so many 20-something blondes became such serious broadcast news conduits. Or how Jon Stewart became the second coming of H.L. Mencken.

Or why professional educators can’t just say: “Of course, you can’t wear flip-flops to school. And lest there are any more such loopy queries, remember this: ‘We’re the adults; you’re the kids. You are allowed to be silly; but we’re obligated to call you on it. You’re going to school – not the beach. At least look the part.”

Or how some teens can leave a home where some parentally-responsible adult resides and head to school looking like they’ve answered a casting call for “Lolita.”

Or why anyone should have imposed upon them the insipid details of inane lives as conveyed via cell-phone conversations anywhere in public. Make that “like anywhere in, like, public.”

But every now and then it’s kind of a kick to feel like a veritable insider in the popular culture. So that’s my story as to how I came to watch the Academy Awards show last week. Plus, I had actually seen four of the movies nominated for “best picture.” And, yes, I would have seen them all had I not Brokebacked out.

A few Oscar observations:

*George Clooney’s looks and personality lend a semblance of credibility to his politics. To be fair, he should look like Michael Moore. Same ideology.

**Last year the edgy Chris Rock. This year the smug Jon Stewart. Who’s next if Billy Crystal keeps begging off? Andrew Dice Clay?

*“It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp.” Indeed.

*Who’s responsible for letting Lauren Bacall go on? She’s been an actress for the ages. She’s been sassy and classy. Now she’s as vulnerable as she is venerable. She deserved better than to be seen losing a teleprompter encounter. It was sad, and it never should have happened.

* “Crash,” a movie seemingly made for diversity workshops, wins best picture. It wasn’t even best polemic; that was “Munich.”