Periodically I comment on the passing samsara because I get tired of clipping my wings in WASP-y self-restraint. I am from the Irish shanty born, metaphorically speaking, so curtailing my desire to rant is an heroic, and, at times, Herculean feat. And as I double down on Stoic exercises, including half-baked yoga (those Bikram folks scared me off public displays of downward dog for awhile), daily Zen meditation (to which I am invariably 20 minutes late), rigorous exercise (since the torn ACL, poorly repaired by overrated celebrity hound, Dr. Robert Klapper, I can't play sports, which has greatly dampened my mood), as well as deliberately not flaming folks who dare to question my inflated sense of pseudo-authority, I get all bottled up, and have to speak out. But since folks are generally annoyed by my inadvertently self-aggrandizing attempts to encourage readership of my textual spew, I will henceforth refrain from all promotion of said writings. Despite my belief in the salient advantages of overt promotion of one's writings in the context of an overcrowded and highly competitive media marketplace, I will try my best to ascribe to the slogan found as you enter Manhattan's First Zen Institute in neighboring Murray Hill: "Those Who Come Are Received. Those Who Go Are Not Pursued." Talk about taking the long view!

I will henceforth take the Long View. Per my writing. Per my stock picks. Per my choice of clients and lovers. Per the popularity of my writings.

But not per today's musings.

TIGER WOODS
For those who think that getting the gorgeous blonde Swedish supermodel girl, possessing all the garish accroutrements of a materially successful life, being at the top of one's profession, a role model, a ridiculously high-paid spokesperson, somehow produces serenity, examine the behavior of Mr. Tiger Woods, gazillionaire golfer, advertising pitchman, racial hybrid superstar.

Once again, a man who has it all decides, willfully, to screw it up for some passing tail. I am not saying we should all become Stoics. Or that I don't screw up my tiny world of relative health and financial security, but Mr. Woods, like Mr. Clinton and Mr. Rodriguez before him, could not resist the great enticements that come with celebrity. I am comforted by Mr. Woods' fall from grace. The man always seemed too perfect, too well-behaved, too gracious and good. It always felt to me like he was hiding something. And now that it is clear how much he's been hiding, I finally have compassion for the man. Maybe you will now let down your storied guard a bit and admit, "White Is Nice, but Brown is Mo' Betta."

PRESIDENT OBAMA
I can only pray to a non-existent God that Mr. Obama is not guilty of the same transgressions as Mr. Woods. A double whammy of racial Hybrids falling from grace would not be good for the country. Right now, the young, often hesitant, and still not fully confident Barack Obama, needs our unbridled support. I like this guy. I actually feel compassion for him. He's a sensitive soul, surrounded by type A careerist hotheads. While he caved in on Afghanistan, I see the logic in his pitch. And I think, despite my misgivings, it's the right move. I think we can achieve our goals in that country alone. But I want to see our lame European partners finally take some of the burden. And not just a paltry 5,000 more troops. How about some serious financing Professor Merkel, Mr. Hothead in Paris, and Fredo over there in Rome? Show us the Euros. We all know your citizens are too cowardly to fight. We have to protect your lazy, wine-sipping, cheese-chewing, deconstruvist asses from radical Islamic nutballs, while you get to lecture us about how well we are doing. This time Americans aren't going to take your pussilanimous lectures sitting down. We need to exert some leverage. How about a tariff on French perfume or German autos? Would that get your attention? Obama, don't take no for an answer from these weasels. They either put up or shut up. Meanwhile, sir, bravo on an excellent speech at West Point. It articulated the unity we all felt after 9/11 and how Bush, Inc. and his chicken-hawk allies in right-wing media succeeded in tearing this country apart ever since. It's time to come together again, feel the feelings we felt after 9/11, get out of Iraq, win in Afghanistan, and bring all American troops home for good by 2014. That goal is possible, people. Let's don't let off on the pressure to make that goal a reality.

HASIDS AGAINST HOTTIES
There's lots of hipster resistance brewing against our own homegrown brand of radical religious extremists, Hasidic Jews. Reports out of Brooklyn's Williamsburgh, epicenter of dues with ironic handlebar mustaches, suggest that the black-clad, big-hatted, bearded ones have gotten the city to kill a bike lane in the hood because they had to endure the unbearable, unholy sight of scantily clad female bicyclists! Can you imagine? While Bloomberg's ascent to this specious and weird bit of latter day Puritanism is clearly political (and pathetic), one upside is that the prospect of scantily clad female bikers will definitely pave the way for more bike lanes throughout Gotham. Irving Place, please! "No Scantily Clad Female Bicyclists, No Peace!!!!!!"