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anna

Good bye Dan Rather

by anna at 11:20 AM on February 19, 2005

Dan succeeded the icon Walter Cronkite. He looked kind of boyish back then. You remembered him in cognito, sneaking into Soviet-occupied Afghanistan. Over the years he aged and became the same kind of grandfatherly figure as his predecessor. For a while he was paired with Connie Chung and looked majorly miffed at sharing the spotlight with her. Now he's gone, retired in shame. Boyish Brian Williams has taken his place. This is my requiem for the old fool.

I am probably the only person on Earth who doesn't know the connection between Dan and REM's What's the Frequency Kenneth? But just in case anyone else is as clueless, here it is.

I'm reading this and going, WTF? I mean, this guy is world famous, rich as god and he's strolling the mean streets of Manhattan sans a security detail? What is this guy, nuts? Or more specifically, doesn't he know that those streets are teeming with nuts? I once rode the subway from Jackson Heights in Queens to Ground Zero. On the way there was this crazy guy strumming and out-of-key guitar that was missing strings. He'd howl these patriotic songs in this hideous voice like Cher with a mouthful of Gregg Allman's dick. His scam was that all the riders had to chip in to shut him up. I'm sure someone has killed him by now.

Let me just stop and say now that that imagery of the nut and Rather is priceless. Evidently Michael Stipe thought so too.

The other question I have is about how the assailant got nabbed. The article just says that cops got a tip from his psychiatrist. Aren't such sessions protected by doctor-patient confidentiality? I could see it if the patient intimated that he'd been on a serial murder spree and had no intention of stopping. But a rather minor and long ago, albeit song-worthily surreal, mugging incident in which a celebrity got kicked in the face repeatedly by some loon who yells, "What's the frequency Kenneth?" I don't think so.

So all of you out there in therapy, beware. You beloved doctor might rat you out at any given moment. Priests too. Don't confess to anyone. Keep all your sins and transgressions bottled up inside until they drive you slowly insane, like me. And keep your mouth away from Gregg Allman's johnson.

comments (10)

Yeah. Trust nobody, don't be no fool...

by Stevie Ray in Heavaughn at February 19, 2005 12:11 PM


On my visit to Ireland earlier this year I was strongly considering entering a Catholic church for confession. I wonder what they're like these days, I was gonna give it a little:

Forgive me father for I have sinned, this, uh, is my first confession. ... *One hour later* ... I mean this girl had an amazing body father, you wouldn't believe, but she sported piercings everywhere, I mean nipples, navel, tongue, nose, eyebrows, even her clit was pierced... I figured if she could take that much pain from piercings, then going for the asshole was an option open to me, but she said it hurt and I had to abort... *Later that evening, after two intermissions and being put on hold twice* ... I thought about it for a while, but I knew that if I didn't excuse myself to go jerk off in the bathroom before dinner, then the sex to come would last a grand total of two minutes, so there I was, in the bathroom masturbating, as dinner was being called downstairs... *Getting carted to the police station, confession continues with the arresting officer* ... I didn't know the curtains were so expensive, damaging private property was not my intent, I was naked, on my way out of the room, and it was the only place I could see worth wiping my dick...

I say trust everyone, especially yourself... F'you can't do that then you start sounding like Stevie. ;)

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at February 19, 2005 1:08 PM


I have this sneaking suspicion that there's more than a kernel of truth to that harrowing tale. I've also considered going into a confessional and either making up the most outrageous lies, like beheading an orphan; or else saying, "Look, I've done nothing wrong. What am I even doing here, wasting your time, father?"

by anna at February 19, 2005 2:38 PM


Where I practice the only truely confidential conversations are between a lawyer and his client. We don't push the envelope when it comes to confessions to priests, but generally they never tell anyone, so the points moot.

As for psychiatrits, the one who told on his client freely and voluntarily would be in trouble with his professional body. If the police found out some other way and subponead him or got a warrant for his records that would be a different thing.
The particular article you've linked to mentions that William Tager was serving time for murder at the time the psychiatrist came forward. In the case of prison psychiatrists, they usually tell their patients that none of the work with them is confidential, and the psychiatrist usually have a contract with the priison to rat on the inmates if they confess to another crime.

The law of confidential conversations is actually quite twisted, definitely not apparent on the face of an article.

by chuck woolery at February 19, 2005 2:45 PM


Which part was harrowing? Was it the anal thing? Was it the masturbation before dinner thing? Or the curtain thing?

Oh, come on, father, the anal thing, never done it before, giving it a go with a gal you wrongly assume has experienced it... We've all experimented, right? Anyone... Anyone...? Shit! Haven't we all upped our prowess by masturbating before hand? Anyone... Anyone...? Shit! The curtain thing... Come on! Name a better place in a bedroom when you have no intention of sleeping in there, but your clothes are elsewhere! I can't be alone, anyone... Anyone...? Shit! Bah, you're all prudes! Yes... I used the word prude! :P

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at February 19, 2005 6:37 PM


Well yeah if it was a prison psych doc I guess that would be different. Still, it has got to kind of chill the confidence factor when your being interviewed. It's like having Lynndsie England holding you on a leash or something.

And Crimson I guess the part that got me was wiping your dick (of what...bah!) on the curtain. My curtains are made of some fancy material my wife chose from samples and that thought is just....funny.

They say if you can take it from her mouth and put it in her arse, that's love. The other way around, that's true love. But I wouldn't know.

Here in the states, several journalists have been jailed for refusing to divulge their confidential sources. Just a little more evidence that all your rights are being slowly eroded before your very eyes.

by anna at February 19, 2005 7:34 PM


That's gotta be true. If indeed she allowed it happen, then it'd have to be love, right? Not just on her part, but on the blokes. If I could still look and think: "She is the one for me" when she takes my penis in her mouth after it was, only moments before, in her ass... That's gotta be love.

"Ahh, you're the one for me, darling, my gorgeous inimitable companion, seeing you do something that degrading just to please me... Yup, I'm on to a winner here. Now, give me long, deep, passionate tongues 'n' all kiss would you? I feel like I should degrade myself too. To lower myself into the pits of 'bleeargh', by kissing the lips that have kissed my penis, only moments after it has stretched your rectum, yes, this is love. Yup, I'll do it, kiss those 'bleeargh'd' lips so that we might hold compromising information on one another that we'd never want to get out, so, we'll have to be in a relationship for the rest of our lives, right, to ensure this nights sexcapades never, ever, reach the ears of our friends. Aaah, I love you."

Sweet. There should be sonets with such content. *shudder* Forget priests, journalists, and lawyers... There should be a law against spouting the sexcapades of partners. Lover Lover Confidentiality. I'll wager that half the marriages of today wouldn't have happened if there was such a practice.

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at February 19, 2005 9:01 PM


You know, I remember the 'freqency' incident happening, as well as the debut of the R.E.M. song, but I must have missed hearing about his assailant being identified. One of the greatest mysteries, now solved.

by snaggle at February 19, 2005 9:53 PM


All hail the NYPD, second in corruption only to the murderous, drug-running, racketeering LAPD.

Crimson, I attribute my relative success as a single man years ago, in part, to a strict no kiss 'n tell policy. It just seemed gross to me when dudes would divulge that stuff.

by anna at February 20, 2005 8:31 AM


Wohoo, the Weekend Abyss... oh yeah!!!

by LOCKHEED at February 21, 2005 3:28 AM