Madonna, who is so adept at marketing herself that her life is basically a never-ending real-time infomercial, has said that she “wants to be like Ghandi.” John Lennon and Martin Luther King Jr. come in a close second.

Simply looking at some quotes from Madonna and Ghandi and heck, it’s easy to tell that Madonna is indeed striving to be like her hero.

Ghandi: “Whenever you have truth it must be given with love, or the message and the messenger will be rejected.”

Madonna: “Sometimes you have to be a b---h to get things done.”

Ghandi: “Always aim at complete harmony of thought and word and deed. Always aim at purifying your thoughts and everything will be well.”

Madonna: “Everybody loves you when they are about to [ejaculate].”

Ghandi: “I believe in equality for everyone, except reporters and photographers.”

Madonna: “I won’t be happy until I’m as famous as God.”

I don’t know about you, but I think Madonna is nearly at official Ghandi status.

Actually, Ghandi may have viewed Madonna as a purveyor of the “western decadence” he spoke out against. Ghandi once said, “What do I think of western civilization? I think it would be a good idea.” Madonna would have to get rid of a whole lot of goodies to be like Ghandi.

We all know that Madonna’s simply a PR machine, and a good one at that, and she knows what it would take to actually be like Ghandi so this will never go past lip service as it would involve giving up being Madonna.

I hate to admit this, but I have much more in common with Madonna than with Ghandi. I'm a capitalist, and as such I happen to appreciate much of what "western decadence" has to offer -- and obviously so does Madonna. "Western decadence" is a decadence that has cured countless diseases and created wealth that aids the rest of the planet. Under this decadent umbrella famine has all but been eliminated, and yes, this decadence has even made it possible for people like Madonna to be famous to the point of delusional visions of being just like the very man who would have thought she was a exhibitionist, capitalist and too easy. 

Adopting a poor African child and hauling him off to Shangri-La doesn’t make Madonna anything like Ghandi. If she sold her stuff and went to Africa to move in with the kid, then she’d be a little closer to the mark — or the Mahatma in this case. When that happens, I’ll actually believe that Madonna strives to be like Ghandi.

Ghandi might have seen in Madonna a performer overdosing on “western decadence” who spent the majority of her early career in the United States profiting as the Mecca for aspiring sluts and two-bit perverts everywhere, where she taught children through words and actions that nothing is sacred and off limits in the name of “art,” anonymous sex is great, and cone bras on gay men are wonderful accessories.

Then, after having her own kids, she moved to England to develop a fake British accent and escape what she viewed as an increasingly immoral nation. Ghandi would see a woman who would take no part in raising her children in a country whose youth spent their formative years under the lewd tutelage of their own mother, and maybe even giggle at the irony.

I thought that as Madonna aged, she might cool it a little bit on the BS. This isn’t happening. If anything, the attention cravings will only get worse as adult-onset “‘What Ever Happened to Baby Jane’ syndrome” kicks in full force in years to come, and no global peace icon, alive or dead, will be safe from laughable comparison.

The PC stampede rolls on:

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The University of Illinois will drop its 81-year-old American Indian mascot, Chief Illiniwek, following the last men's basketball home game of the season on Wednesday, officials said.

The move makes the school eligible to host postseason NCAA championship events.

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So far, this mascot madness seems to be confined to anything related to native Americans, because Notre Dame's drunken Irish guy picking a fight doesn't seem to be going away. 

An obviously intoxicated leprechaun could be offensive to those of us of Irish ancestry-- hey, we don't all pick fights. Nobody seems to care about that though.

So, Chief Illiniwek has been fired, and offered the dignity and respect that the government and today's PC culture feels is due Native Americans: He'll probably have a casino named after one of his relatives where people can lose their life savings, and a pittance of that windfall will buy him a lousy house on a lousy piece of property in some nowhere place. Indian heritage intact, compliments of the government and the NCAA.

Unacceptable mascot:

"Chief Illiniwek": Racist and offensive

Perfectly acceptable mascot:

The Kewadin Casino Indians: Honoring Native Americans' rich history of craps, blackjack and hockey

At some point in the future, when another civilization digs up the big box encrusted with Justin Timberlake stickers a Prozac dust that is our time capsule, one of the most telling of all items about who we were and what we did will be our warning signs.

We’ve all read the stories about tags on electric hair dryers that say “don’t use in shower” and the like. There is no greater an example of comical “warnings” that the newest sign from the United Nations’ run International Atomic Energy Authority that goes in the pantheon of dumb signs:

What’s that? Run if we see a fan blade or Keith Richards?

Here’s some of the reasoning behind this tidbit of nuclear advice:

The International Atomic Energy Authority said its new sign, developed in collaboration with the International Organization for Standardization should be taken up worldwide ASAP.

Spokeswoman Caroline MacKenzie summed up the new stance against Darwinian natural selection, and in favour of Homer Simpson: “We can’t teach the world about radiation, but we can warn people about dangerous sources for the price of sticker.”

That’s right kids, if you see radiation — run! But wait, you can’t see radiation. Perhaps the U.N. will mandate that radiation have color added to it so we can see it coming — sort of like we add stink to our otherwise odorless natural gas so it’s detectable by our noses.

Then again, maybe the sign-makers should just put a mushroom cloud at the top. Who doesn't know what a mushroom cloud signals? But mushrooms might remind us of pizza, which of course can contain trans-fats, which involves an entirely separate warning sign from the United Nations.

I guess we’re just plain screwed. I wonder what that sign will look like.

About ten Jet Blue flights were left sitting on the JFK airport tarmac with the passengers inside for up to ten hours because of problems related to the weather.

The passengers were stuck on board so long they were able to watch A&E’s made-for-TV movie about their ordeal on the built-in seatback televisions:

“Because I’m good enough, liberal enough, and doggone it, Minnesotans will vote for me.”

In a state that has elected a former professional wrestler and the first ever Muslim (and a cigar-hatin’ cop callin’ one at that), to prominent government positions, it’s not a stretch to assume that a writer and occasional performer on Saturday Night Live could get a nod from voters.

Al Franken has announced that he will seek to unseat Minnesota Senator Norm Coleman in 2008. Franken’s pulling a Hillary in northern reverse and has moved from New York to Minnesota.

The announcement came on Franken’s final day of broadcasting on Air America -- which once owed Franken over $360,000, and the chances he was ever paid that money are slim given AA’s financial non-position.

Then again, liberals are more into compassion than greed, so I’m sure the lack of payment doesn’t bother Franken in the least (pause for laughter).

Realizing that liberals will never be able to make it big in the non-federally funded syndicated radio business until a fairness doctrine is in place, Franken now moves on to politics, maybe in part to attempt to bolster any future return to radio.

From a Republican perspective, they’ll need to treat Franken as if he’s any other liberal candidate. No, not by caving in to him, but by confronting him on the facts, something many Republicans have somehow forgotten how to do.

Franken says he’ll seek universal health care and alternative forms of energy. Quite possibly he can figure out how to combine these two issues and invent automobiles that burn doctors for fuel.

As long as Norm Coleman doesn’t try to be as funny to Republicans as Franken might be to liberals, he’ll hold his own. Something people often try is to keep up with zingers that are going over with a particular candidates crowd by coming up with their own, and that’s when it starts getting embarrassing. All too often it ends up sounding like, “no… you are!”

From Franken’s perspective, he’ll need to realize that there’s a good reason Congress, and politics in general, has been home to a broad spectrum of careers — from actors to lawyers to business people — but never comedians. At least not those who are comedians on purpose (which is a thin yet relevant distinction).

But, since the Democrats are in a world of “firsts” early in this new millennium — first Muslim congressman, first female frontrunner for the nomination, first black man who is a serious contender for the nomination — why not the first comedian in Congress?

Then again, there’s that word that is thrown around when discussing Franken: Comedian. The definition is in the eye of the beholder, as Al Franken often comes across as an angry person — one who, if elected, might make Minnesota’s national bird “the finger.” He can hurl insults, get furiously in-your-face and even come up with his own lies and half-truths – in other words, he was made for Congress, especially the left side of the aisle. 

So yes, Al Franken could very well be elected. Will he be? The usual political promises to “take from them and give to you” combined with a bit of well-timed jocularity might sell – and if anything has been proven in recent years, Minnesotans are open to trying just about anything.

One passing thought. If Franken should ever find himself behind in the polls to Coleman, Al should simply shed a few pounds, take the glasses off, and hope that voters confuse the two (vice-versa for Coleman):

We all know about the paranoia surrounding smoking these days, but here’s what happens in the august body that always reminds the rest of us that diplomacy and understanding is the best way to solve problems:

Rep. Tom Tancredo supported freshman Rep. Keith Ellison’s controversial swearing-in on the Quran, but when the Colorado Republican wanted to relax in his office with a cigar, the Muslim Democrat’s office called in the cops.

The calling of the police was reportedly approved of by Ellison, who, as you might recall, is the first Muslim elected to Congress. The rest of the the smoke-gate story is here.

Imagine what might happen if Tancredo ever decides to fry up some bacon in the office. Get out a tac vest, Tom, it’s gonna be a long term.

It’s a bit lonely in here today, as I feel like I’m the only guy in the country who’s not claiming to be the father of Anna Nicole Smith’s baby.

So, I’d like to throw my hat, and other stuff, into the ring. Yes, I’m Anna Nicole’s baby-daddy. Forget about all those other guys. Forget about liars like Howard K. Stern, Zsa Zsa Gabor’s ex husband, J. Howard Marshall’s frozen sperm-sicles, and the bodyguards who claim to be the father.

I’m Anna Nicole’s baby-daddy.

It’s time to settle this out-of-control situation before people start thinking that Anna Nicole was on her back more alive than she ever will be dead.

When can I expect my check?

This morning I read a story that’s bound to further put the hemp undies of animal rights activists in a wad. The U.S. Navy is studying the possibility of deploying trained dolphins and sea lions to patrol the waters near a naval base in Puget Sound near Seattle. Whether or not they’ll have frickin’ laser beams on their frickin’ heads remains to be seen.

The Navy said it needs to shore up (pun partially intentional) security in the area because it is potentially vulnerable to attack by terrorist swimmers and scuba divers. If terrorist swimmers and scuba divers were unaware of this particular vulnerability, they aren’t anymore.

So why bring it up and tip off terrorists before any security is added? Because the Navy is seeking public comment for an “environmental impact statement” on the proposal.

I don’t know about you, but I sleep better at night knowing our military can’t set up a defense without, A) tipping off would-be attackers to the particular vulnerabilities, and B) letting us know how many squirrels will be displaced should we decide to plug the security hole. These studies never seem to take into account how many squirrels would die in an attack caused by tipping terrorists off to the problem.

At any rate, animal rights activists are expected to fight the plan, as they say the waters are too cold for dolphins. The last time dolphins were used operationally on the west coast was farther south, in San Diego in 1996, when they patrolled the bay during the Republican National Convention. The deployment proved ineffective, as the dolphins fell asleep during Bob Dole’s acceptance speech.

Dolphins have been used to fight the war on terror halfway around the world, and very recently. In 2003, dolphins were sent to the southern Iraqi port of Umm Qasr where they patrolled the waters, having been trained to release a marker when they come upon dangerous underwater obstacle, such as a mine or Ted Kennedy’s car (which I believe is where the term “bottle-nosed dolphin” originated).

Though the training methods for the dolphins and sea lions may be new, animals have a long tradition as tools of war. Horses have been used in war since the day it was invented. The day war was invented was, of course, a moment after Eve asked Adam, “What are you thinking?”

Carrier pigeons were often used in wars before two-way wireless communications were possible, where they would relay messages back and forth between commanders in the field. If they were shot down (and they often were), the pigeon was under orders to eat the message — then the enemy would eat the pigeon.

But it doesn’t stop with dolphins, sea lions, horses and pigeons. Monkeys also get in on the “tools of war” act. As a matter of fact, it was reported a couple of years ago that the Moroccan army offered to supply coalition forces with a couple thousand monkeys to be used to sweep minefields. After the war, any remaining monkeys would be trained to blackjack at Marrakesh casinos.

Our government says they didn’t take Morocco up on their generous monkey offer, since they’re already clearing minefields by rolling dolphins across them (Just seeing if the PETA folks are still paying attention).

Animals can be great tools, can’t they? They can be used to pull plows, fill stomachs and help win wars. Animal-rights activists should take comfort, however, in that animals are never made to do any of the really dangerous stuff, like storming a beachhead or piloting a low-level bombing run.

If that was the case, our history books would be filled with stories of “The Rooster Rangers of Pointe du Hoc,” who bravely pecked their way up the cliffs of Normandy as the Germans shot batter dip and hot oil at them. You’d hear more about Australia’s elite “Emu Brigade,” who took Lt. Gen. Sir William Birdwood under their wings, protecting him from flying bullets during his landing at Gallipoli in 1915. The “Status quail,” indifferent French messenger birds and the inspiration for the film “All’s Nationalized on the Western Front,” would also be fondly remembered.

I personally would like to thank the unwittingly brave animals who help us out in our time of need.

Today’s column at WorldNetDaily deals with Sir Richard Branson’s $25 million prize offer for the “scientist” who can find a way to extract greenhouse gases from the atmosphere.

What could possibly go wrong? I discuss this and offer a few of my own ideas in “Save the planet, win a prize.”

For those among us who were witness to the goings-on in the White House in the 1990’s and asked ourselves, “Why doesn’t she dump that guy?” Here’s why.

It’s been said and written on numerous occasions over the years that Hillary Clinton, champion “feminist,” wouldn’t be anywhere near where she is today without a man — specifically Bill Clinton. Like Jane Fonda, who billed herself as a “feminist” but yet had the audacity to get breast implants, Hillary Clinton is one of those “both ends against the middle” political hacks. In other words, if Hillary Clinton were black, she’d join the KKK to get the peckerwood vote and later spend some of the money she raised from the group on ads calling for stiffer penalties for hate crimes.

To many, it’s obvious and embarrassing. To an absolutely stunning number of people, this seems to be an attractive political feature.

Over the weekend in New Hampshire, Hillary reiterated how much her husband means to her in this election, and it isn’t due to accident or for the purposes of sheer spousal love.

“I know what Gingrich tells people privately, I know what DeLay tells people privately, I know what Karl Rove tells people privately. I’m the one person they are most afraid of. Bill and I have beaten them before, and we will again.”

Yes, Hillary will be lauding her husband more and more on the campaign trail in order to reel in the base that Hillary’s in danger of losing due to her “centering” on many issues, not the least of which is the backpedaling Hillary is now engaged in because of her initial support of the Iraq war. In New Hampshire, when confronted on her initial support for the Iraq war, Hillary responded, “Knowing what we know now, I would never have voted for it.”

And knowing what I know now I never would have put money on the Chicago Bears, but that doesn’t get me my capital back, does it? Hillary might have discovered the hard way that the same is true in politics, but now she’s obviously been told to bring in Bill from the bullpen to get the save.

Hillary needs Bill to shore up the left coast as well:

David Geffen and Jeffrey Katzenberg, Spielberg’s colleagues at the DreamWorks film studio, are backing Obama. It was thought that Spielberg was too, but sources say Bill Clinton prevailed on him to help his wife. All three men were generous backers of the former President.

So we see that Hillary Clinton needs her husband more than ever, which wouldn’t be a problem if she weren’t constantly reiterating what a “strong, independent woman” she is. Hillary Clinton is as “independent” as Siamese twins attached at the wallet.

Now watch out, voters, because Hillary’s obviously been working on that hypnotic, icy stare. The campaign trail witchcraft is starting to take hold on people:

And where did Hillary learn that “you will submit to my wants” trick? You guessed it:

The term “function creep” means something used for a purpose that was not originally intended. This happens in many areas surrounding our lives, but at the moment it’s stampeding across the arena of stem cell research and right on into the chests of test subjects.

From Fox News:

British women may be offered a “natural” form of breast enlargement that uses stem cells and fat from a woman’s own body, under plans being considered by doctors.

The technique, pioneered in Japan, results in breasts that look and feel smoother than conventional cosmetic surgery using implants. This is because the stem cells enable the fat to grow its own blood supply, thus becoming an integral part of the breast rather than a foreign lump.

Stem cells have the potential to change into any cells in the body. They are found in most tissues, especially fat.

Dozens of women in Japan have received the breast enlargements during trials. Last week German medical authorities gave approval to the process. Under Brussels rules, this means that the procedure is now legal throughout the European Union, including Britain.

The practical implications would seem to be this: Stem cell research has yet to help cure Michael J. Fox’s Parkinson’s Disease, but it can offer him a killer set of knockers if he so chooses.

Maybe this is just a clever sales ploy to get quicker approval around the world for embryonic stem cell research.

“Mr. Prime Minister, are you for embryonic stem cell research?”

“Well, there are many considerations, not the least of which is its effect on innocent human life and…”

“It’ll give your wife the finest set of knockers you’ve ever seen.”

“So in closing, yes, I’m all for it.”

You’ve gotta love science.

New research offers hope and promise for Alzheimer's and Parkinson’s patients seeking a natural way to look like Pamela Anderson

Hillary Clinton is already in New Hampshire throwing around promises to redistribute our hard-earned money if elected.

When confronted about her senate vote for the Iraq war, Hillary responded, “Knowing what we know now, I would never have voted for it.”

And knowing what I know now I never would have put money on the Chicago Bears, but that doesn’t get me my capital back, does it? Hillary will discover the hard way that the same is true in politics.

Chairman of the Virgin Group, Sir Richard Branson, has announced a $25 million prize for the person who comes up with a way of extracting greenhouse gases from the atmosphere. The challenge is to find the first viable, in an incredibly large-scale way, method to capture and remove carbon dioxide from the air. Hopefully a subsequent contest will offer a prize to the first person who can figure out how to resuscitate dead plants and trees.

Somebody get Mr. Peabody and Sherman on the phone for this challenge. In the meantime, I’ll simply hope that none of the prize-seekers end up trashing the entire house in order to catch a mouse. Branson should have made certain stipulations, because I can envision somebody coming up with a way to remove CO2 from the atmosphere — oh, along with all the oxygen as well. Whoops! Oh well, at last, a foolproof way to prevent forest fires.

Al Gore, who joined Branson as he announced the prize, recently said that the planet has a “fever,” and you know what grandma always said about that: “starve a fever.” This should come as horrendous news for famine-plagued third-world countries that would much prefer the planet have a cold.

I can’t come up with an overall way to rid the atmosphere of greenhouse gases, but what I am going to do is offer a couple of recommendations and hope that Mr. Branson will consider giving me a small share of the prize money. Just a million or two should do the trick.

Okay, here’s my plan, respectfully offered to Sir Richard Branson, to dramatically reduce greenhouse gases in the atmosphere:

Step 1 — Ground all Virgin Atlantic Airways planes.

On average, 747’s burn about a gallon of fuel every second – or five gallons per mile. 36,000 gallons over the course of a ten-hour flight. True, assuming the plane is fully loaded, that’s about a hundred miles per gallon per person — while pretty good mileage, it’s still an awful lot of fuel bilge going into the atmosphere. Flying is the fastest growing source of greenhouse gas emissions. Charity starts at home, as does saving the planet. Ground those planes and set an example. Private jets for Branson and Gore? Out of the question.

I’m assuming that those rockets for Branson’s planned commercial space flights on “Virgin Galactic“ aren’t very fuel efficient either.

Step 2 to help eliminate greenhouse gas emissions is a little simpler: Shut up Al Gore:

Okay everybody, now go into your laboratories and start working on that $25 million! I think we all know who’s going to win though:

“I used my prize money to buy Michael Jackson’s oxygen enriched sleep chamber.”

You know you’re on the correct side of an argument when the opposition gets so desperate to scare people that they can take a debatable issue, like “man-made global warming” – which as far as I know isn’t listed as the cause of death for a single human being – and start comparing it to issues relating to the Holocaust.

Boston Globe op-edder Ellen Goodman again yells “fire” in an empty head by parrotting what is the new talking point of the eco-demagogues: “…global warming deniers are now on a par with Holocaust deniers, though one denies the past and the other denies the present and future.”

I guess it’s all in how you look at it. It’s strange, because I see the man-made global warming alarmists, such as Ellen Goodman, as being a little like the Nazi SS. “Get on zee train. Vee take you to a bettah place.”

Sorry, Ellen. Not today. I need proof of where your train is headed first, and I almost guarantee I won’t like it.

“Anna Nicole Smith was then taken to the hospital, and pronounced dead at 3:54 p.m., eastern time…”

My generation has lost its Paris Hilton.

Yesterday afternoon, while listening to a talk radio station, a news flash hit the air. I was a bit concerned, as the tone of the announcer sounded dire. Was there a terrorist attack somewhere? A fatal traffic accident tying up the freeway? Imminent meteor strike? No, it was that Anna Nicole Smith had been found unresponsive in a hotel room.

“Why hadn’t this been reported every other time it happened in the past 20 years?” I wondered. But it was being reported on this day because rumors were already swirling that Anna Nicole Smith was, indeed, dead.

Television stations then broke in with the news. CNN and Fox News coverage was immediate. It was almost as if America had lost a First Lady — a Yankee version of Princess Di. Both of whom had money, lived under the television lights, and had to marry older guys with big ears to get where they were.

The life of Anna Nicole Smith had many downers, and not only those that come in the kind of bottle that you have to find a ten year old kid so he can get the cap off for you. Her son died last fall in what would appear to be an incident incurred because he simply followed the tutelage of his mother, and she’s left behind a baby.

Anna Nicole often appeared in a way that made Keith Richards seem lucid by comparison, and rarely if ever seemed like a happy person. I used to think that was part of the act, but the really sad part is that it probably wasn’t.

There are two reasons that people followed the weird, messed up, slurry life of Anna Nicole Smith: Either they admired her for acheiving what we’re constantly taught by trial lawyers and a lottery culture us the “new” American dream, which is doing hardly anything of substance and yet getting rich; or they looked upon Anna Nicole as life’s freakshow, and the fascination was the same one we have when passing the scene of a car crash — always slowing down to take a look, but never wishing we were in that particular vehicle.

One possible third explanation for some of Anna Nicole’s following is that her ”reality” show(s) made for relaxing television in an otherwise divisive and combative world. She was chronically non-political. You could watch Anna Nicole Smith without wondering if she was a conservative, liberal, communist, socialist or libertarian. It didn’t matter. The only way it would have mattered to Anna Nicole would have been if one politician or another had a say over what happened to J. Howard Marshall’s money or were proposing drilling in Alaska’s pristine silicone reservoirs.

Some people I’ve heard are wondering what the big deal is about the death of “just another drug addict,” as Michael Savage said on his show. Perhaps, Michael, but we have a long history of not only embracing this trait, but of propping up those who engage in it (since they often can’t prop themselves). It’s either because we admire them and strive to be like them, or we want and need something weird and different to entertain us while we go about our lives. I sure hope it’s the latter.

Judging from the entertainment shows and other media venues, the only remaining questions are exactly why Anna Nicole died, and whether or not she’ll be allowed to have a State funeral, be buried at Arlington National Cemetery, and have a statue erected on the Mall. My guess is that guys would line up around the block to take a rubbing of that particular monument.

Farewell, Anna Nicole, and if any lesson is imparted from your troubles, I hope that you provided an example of what not to do.

Does anybody else have the feeling that, somewhere, Moses is getting hit on?