KELSO'S A LITTLE LATE FOR A COUPLE OF TEA DANCES, UNDERSTOOD

AnitaXanaxNow, however, was insistent that Kelso address Professor Harvey Mansfield's MANLINESS. Kelso, of course, was never going to read the book, so Anita passed along a copy of the New York Review Of Books issue with Garry Wills' review ("Mousiness") of Professor Mansfield's star-turn. She also suggested Kelso read Martha Nussbaum's take on it in the New Republic, but Kelso has to draw a line somewhere, and a commitment never to -- er -- take the New Republic is as good a line as any, so this posting is based upon Wills' review alone. It was a perfect companion on the the ride home from Monmouth Park; Kelso bollixed up the Belmont Pick Six and various other races, so a good nut-scalding was just the right tonic to make Kelso forget his analytical errors, the worst being Kelso's attempt to be clever and do the artistic thing rather than single Bobby Frankel's horse in the 7th Race.

Kelso's first thought was "this has to be some kind of fucking joke...who would actually have the chutzpah to write a book called 'Manliness?'..Ha-ha, I get it, very nicely done." But, Sweet Baby Jesus, this is no joke. It is a bog-standard attack on feminism from William Kristol's mentor at Harvard and recepient of Bush's 2004 Humanities Medal, and Tom Wolfe loved it. There is no particular reason to repeat Mansfield's arguments. Everybody has heard this shit over and over again. Wills does a very nice job taking Mansfield apart, but all Wills needed to do was refute Mansfield's claim that "feminism makes women less attractive." Wills cites a University of Chicago study of 27,500 people from gender-equal and male-dominant societies which basically found that men like fucking better with women who know how to fuck. And water's wet, too. But apparently since the tragic events which befell our nation on September 11 and because of the twisted notions of that hideous 25% our electorate (just go away and leave us alone, please), that whole fucking fucking business is now pretty much open to question along with Darwin, paleontology, and astro-physics, which gave Mansfield his shot. Bravo for taking it and making a few bucks you cunt, but that's the real issue, no? A manly man who ought to know better wouldn't get down on his knees and suck Bush's cock. He would say "no, hell, no, the 9/11 thing is bullshit, the Iraq thing is bullshit, the faith-based thing is bullshit, and for Christ's sakes feminists didn't fucking have any part in any of it."

And that's the sad part about all of this. These pussies -- Mansfield, Wolfe, David Brooks, William Kristol -- have truly convinced themselves that they are manly because, oh I don't know, they don't care how many Arabs die, how much the poor suffer, all of that crap. Well, cunts, it's put-up-or-shut-up-time. Kelso will accept that you are manly when you get out from behind Karl Rove's skirt and do something that takes just a tiny bit of courage yourselves. Until then, ENOUGH, NO MORE. Your left-wing -- men, women, straight and gay -- will take care of the the fighting and fucking and gambling and hedonism and goddamned manly fun, and all of the compassion for free.

[This piece of shit is manly? Sorry, no sale.] http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/customer-images/0300106645/102-6926257-5708912]

Thanks, Anita. The whole NYRB issue was pretty great. You know Kelso loved Michael Massing on AIPAC. Kelso's not quite ready to become an Episcopal Deacon -- a little in-joke for the denizens of the the Wynn 5-10 NL-NC-HE game -- but AIPAC is something else that really needs to go away, far, far away.

Kelso noticed that it's July 4th and to that Kelso can only quote Johnny Thunders: "ahh...suck my dick."

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Why is Kelso so serious? Because he has just read Dale Peck's HATCHET JOBS, and Kelso feels he owes Mr. Peck a little seriousness for changing the way Kelso now looks and will look at all writing going forward, even though Kelso's hands are relatively clean, having never bitten on Rick Moody, Stanley Crouch, Julian Barnes, Terry McMillan, Jamaica Kincaid or any of Peck's targets for that matter. Kelso likes the Baseball Prospectus and anything by Richard Price, but of course Kelso is a proud bonehead.

Peck's reviews were the stone-cold nuts. Please read them. If you get bored with Peck's own literary musings, however, you're certainly not alone. All that Kansas crap was deadly dull.

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The usual pass-notes: Lunar Rendezvous finished third at 8/5 in the densest 5-horse, non-winner of two-other-than for fillies and mares that K has ever seen. Kelso is still OK with the New Jersey State Police and FBI at least as far as his racing license is concerned. Aley Soler is bumming Kelso out, but Justin Verlander is Jesus-Christ-On-Rye-Toast. And Kelso, Jr., wins the prize. He asked Kelso why we call the New York Yankees "The Girls" and after listening to Kelso's palaver about a very mean mayor named Rudy Giuliani and the general poor-sportsmanship of Yankee players and fans alike (the Mets and their fans are all gentlemen, btw -- Carlos Delgado, you fucking rock, tio), Jr. quite reasonably asked "Why not just call them THE JULIETTES? And, Dad, wouldn't it be funny if they wore pink uniforms with glitter on them?" Go on, my son.

Kelso's Nuts love you.