Dan's Friday links, etc.

Bunch of great stuff at Alter.net today: Connecting the dots on Rove; Remaking the Democratic Party via economic commitments; Why fighting terrorism never ends terrorism; great discussion on "The Myth of Marriage." (Now, if I only had time to read it all...)

Effect Measure: The Centers for Disease Control are suffering from a severe case of managementitis, a common ailment in any modern bureaucracy. "This resentment of the top professional staff with CDC 'leadership' couldn't come at a worse time. Senior staff of the influenza branch are already gone with others rumored to have one foot out the door, this when an influenza pandemic, the biggest public health threat we have faced in decades, is threatened." (Well, that's reassuring.)

Cosmic Variance: Gore in 2008? "More evidence that men shouldn’t be allowed to make important political decisions." (The Democrats should check to see if Bruce Springsteen is willing to run. If he isn't, they should clone him.)

The guys over at crooksandliars put up this fun little caption contest photo this week. A variety of possibilities come to mind, none of them particularly generous. ("Robert Reich, left, and President Bush..." or maybe "Bush personally thanks one of the voters who helped put him over the top in Ohio in November 2004. 'He didn't show up in the exit polls because he doesn't trust the liberal media to tell the truth,' Bush said." )

Meanwhile, the great "patriotboy," (blogging as Gen. J.C. Christian, "Jesus' General") offers up a look at Karl Rove's alleged mistress and the following letter:

There's nothing wrong with serving as his concubine. It's a position steeped in ancient biblical tradition. Mr. Rove, the deliverer of elections and master of the Christian base, deserves a stable of mistresses just as David, the slayer of Goliath and king of God's chosen people, had his own harem of concubines.

More importantly, it would put an end to all the talk about Mr. Rove and that harlot, Jeff Gannon. Every time I think about it, I get this mental picture of Mr. Rove on all fours like Ned Beatty in Deliverance, his flabby flesh rippling and his belly and man-breasts bouncing in a rhythm dictated by Gannon's furious pounding and punctuated by Karl's calf-like bellows. I'd rather not have to picture that anymore.

Amen to that, brother.