Since the broadcast Mexican officials have of course called for an apology, but comedian Steve Coogan has penned a brilliant counter-attack on Clarkson in the Guardian.  Coogan calls out Clarkson for attacking groups that he sees as easy targets, in this case Mexicans.  Clarkson doesn’t attack muslims or jews, but those that don’t have large organized groups defending them are in his crosshairs.

The beauty of Top Gear has long been the brilliant cinematography and the interaction between the hosts. Even people that don’t care about cars watch the show and are entertained by antics like the trek through the Amazon jungle, driving across the spine of Africa or the challenge where the trio had to create amphibious vehicles.  There is no shortage of comedic moments in these episodes. Racist attacks and bullying are simply unnecessary and uncalled for.

As Stephen Colbert has demonstrated so deftly over the years, the best comedy comes from speaking truthiness to power, not attacking the powerless. Clarkson provides a lame defense of his jokes with

“there are calls in Britain at the moment for all offensive humour to be banned. But what people don’t realise is that without offence, there can be no jokes.”

However, this is not about offensive humor. There was nothing humorous about what Jezza, Hamster and Captain Slow said last week. There is plenty of truly funny material that is offensive but comedy is best targeted at those sitting at the top of the hill abusing power. The butt of the joke should be the overweight, pompous master being carried aloft, not the impoverished litter bearers.

Attacking those that you perceive as weak only serves to demonstrate your own weakness.

One of the highlights at the Maker Faire Detroit this past weekend was the life-size mousetrap. Mark Perez spent 15 years building this 50 ton life-size version of the board game. It’s a classic Rube Goldberg device on a huge scale. Check out the video.

By now you may have seen the commercials for the Snuggie which looks like some old monk’s robe but is actually a blanket with sleeves. Yes it’s a dopey premise, but it makes prime fodder for the talented team that creates “This Hour has 22 Minutes”.

What do you suppose the chances are that the media will celebrate this truth teller in the way they fawned over Tim Russert last week.  Unfortunately that won’t happen even though it should.  Carlin provided us with far more reality than Russert ever did.  We’ll miss you George.

At any rate Brenda made a remark in jest that after all her years in the business, she had come to the conclusion that all automotive journalists were either Jewish, gay or both.  Unfortunately my mental energy level at that point was at  low ebb at that moment and I found myself unable to respond with the same degree of eloquence and wit that I am told I exhibited during a verbal joust with our colleague Ray the preceding day.  For the record Ray (even though I doubt you will ever read this) Nothing personal, I’ve been stuck at the corner table many times myself over the years.  It just wasn’t your turn.

Anyway, back to my belated response to Brenda.  Keep in mind that printed word lacks much of the nuance of the spoken word, especially in person and none of the following is meant to offend, insult or denigrate anyone (except perhaps hypocrites like Larry Craig).  I have friends and colleagues are fall into either or both categories and many others and I appreciate and respect all of them.  Disclaimers aside, henceforth is what I might said to Brenda (who herself is Jewish, although I cannot attest to her other preferences) had I been more quick witted during our encounter.

Being at least partially of Middle Eastern descent, I’m certain that following my lineage back far enough would yield ancestors who were members of the tribes of Israel.  However, in recent decades, to my knowledge none of the members of my family have partaken in Yom Kippur, Passover or hanukkah as an active member of the faith.  I myself having been raised Catholic and becoming persuaded early on as to the futility of all religion am an unrepentant athiest.  As to the other half of the generalization, I am not nor have I ever been gay, although I’m sure when it comes time choose what color to paint the walls my wife would likely appreciate me a little more if I did have some tendencies in that general direction.

Alas these words did not emerge from my sometimes scattered mind until some hours after the fact.  Fortunately I have this little corner in which to record them anyway and perhaps she will someday see them.  Pleasure to finally meet you Brenda!

I don’t know what Tesla Motors was thinking when they allowed such a post on their blog.

To this all I can say is LIGHTEN UP! Some environmentalists are just far to earnest for their own good. Sometimes you just need to relax and smile a bit.

The young can become equally befuddled by pieces of equipment with which they have not previously become acquainted. Recently, my son Max had the opportunity to become extremely frustrated by just such a device. Those who are of my age or above, having manage to muddle their way through at least four decades of life may remember an odd little electro-mechanical gadget commonly referred to by historians as the rotary dial phone. At one time the phone company (of which there was only one in those dark days) would lease customers a phone (much as cable companies lease you a cable modem today) and it was hard wired to a wall (this being before the days of a phone jack on every wall in your home). You couldn’t stick these things in your pocket, or even wander around the house with one. If you were lucky you might get one with an extra long cord allowing you to reach across the room while talking to someone.

Our two kids have each had a cell phone since they were about nine years old, allowing them to contact us when needed. When I was that age, we had one phone in the house, I can even remember when the phone company technician came to add jacks to our house, allowing us to get an extension! and we could even move it from room to room! what a concept. At any reate on a recent Saturday afternoon, Max was at the sportsman’s club where he goes to do archery and air rifle shooting. He had left his mobile at home and had finished early while I had left to go run an errand.

When I returned a half hour later he was extremely aggravated and upset at me and I couldn’t figure out why until later. As it happens the only phone in the club house area where he was, was rotary dial phone. Max had previously seen one in a museum, but had never had occasion to actually use one. As a result, he had absolutely no clue about how to operate this seemingly straightforward device. He knew my cell phone number, but was completely unable to determine how to input it into this antique machine. It seems so odd, that something that was so ubiquitous in the earlier part of my relatively brief to date lifetime could seem so utterly foreign to a child who grew up with a computer mouse in his hand.  If something so seemingly innocuous can cause so much frustration for one child, imagine the effects of a one culture invading a completely different one, or the mental anguish that could result if time travel actually were possible.