Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Everything you ever wanted to know about goats and the people who love them!
A quick bit of business. About 2 years ago, I wrote a screenplay called "My Dear Goat." My husband has some connections (vague) in show biz, and "My Dear Goat" has passed through the hands of several producers. I would say it got as far as third base when a big star's manager loved it, but the star's agent didn't. So. Most recently, "My Dear Goat" is about to be sent to one of the co-producers of my favorite movie, Finding Neverland. Please ask your god or goddess or many thereof to push "My Dear Goat" along!
Actually it's not called "My Dear Goat." It's called "Embassy Row."
Today's topic: Mel Gibson.
I've tucked into plates of crow before on this site. And today there's some more crow to eat.
Yesterday I compared Mel Gibson unfairly to Cheech Marin. And that's vintage "Gods Are Bored." Mean, mean, mean.
Alcoholism is a terrible disease, not only for the person who has it but for his or her family. And if a person behaves like Mel Gibson did in public, one can only imagine how he behaves in the comfort of his home, with his wife and many, many children.
Loathsome as his drunken ranting was, we should all pray for Mel Gibson. He is clearly troubled. May the Goddess (he would know her as the Blessed Mother) help him to heal.
So Might it Be.
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS
On Monday: Back to form. My adventures with Darth Vader.