Thursday, October 02, 2008

BIDEN SECRET SERVICE CODE NAME: 'ASSASSINATION INSURANCE'

By Ann Coulter
http://www.anncoulter.com/
October 1, 2008

While Gov. Sarah Palin is being grilled on her position on mark-to-market accounting rules, the press can't bother to ask Joe Biden if he could give us a ballpark estimate on when Franklin D. Roosevelt was president -- or maybe take a stab at guessing the decade when televisions were first available to the public.

Being interviewed by Katie Couric on the "CBS Evening News," Biden said: "When the stock market crashed, Franklin D. Roosevelt got on the television and didn't just talk about the, you know, the princes of greed. He said, 'Look, here's what happened.'"

For those of you who aren't hard-core history buffs, Biden not only named the wrong president during the 1929 stock market crash, he also claimed a president who wasn't president during the stock market crash went on TV before Americans had TVs.

Other than that, the statement holds up pretty well. At least Biden managed to avoid mentioning any "clean" Negroes he had met.

Couric was nearly moved to tears by the brilliance of Biden's brain-damaged remark. She was especially intrigued by Biden's claim that FDR had said the new iPhone was the bomb!

Here is Couric's full response to Biden's bizarre outburst about FDR (a) being president and (b) going on TV in 1929: "Relating to the fears of the average American is one of Biden's strong suits."

But when our beauteous Sarah said that John McCain was a better leader on the economy than Barack Obama, Couric relentlessly badgered her for evidence. "Why do you say that?" Couric demanded. "Why are they waiting for John McCain and not Barack Obama? ... Can you give us any more examples of his leading the charge for more oversight?"

The beauteous Sarah had cited McCain's prescient warnings about Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. But Couric, the crackerjack journalist who didn't know FDR wasn't president in 1929, demanded more examples from Palin.

We are currently in the middle of a massive financial crisis brought on by Fannie Mae. McCain was right on Fannie Mae; Obama was wrong. That's not enough?

Not for the affable Eva Braun of evening TV! "I'm just going to ask you one more time," Couric snipped, "not to belabor the point. Specific examples in his 26 years of pushing for more regulation?"

This would be like responding to someone who predicted the 9/11 attacks by saying: OK, you got one thing right. Not to belabor the point, but what else?

Obama was not merely wrong on Fannie Mae: He is owned by Fannie Mae. Somehow Obama managed to become the second biggest all-time recipient of Fannie Mae political money after only three years in the Senate. The biggest beneficiary, Democratic Sen. Chris Dodd, had a 30-year head start on receiving loot from Fannie Mae -- the government-backed institution behind our current crisis.

How does the Democratic ticket stack up on other major issues facing the nation, say, gas prices?

Shockingly, Sen. Joe Biden was one of only five senators to vote against the first Alaskan pipeline bill in 1973. This is like having been a Nazi sympathizer during World War II. If Sarah Palin does nothing else, she has got to tie that idiotic pipeline vote around Biden's neck.

The Senate passed the 1973 Alaskan pipeline bill by an overwhelming 80-5 vote. Only five senators voted against the pipeline on final passage. Sen. Biden is the only one who is still in the Senate -- the other four having been confined to mental institutions long ago.

The stakes were clear: This was in the midst of the first Arab oil embargo. Liberal Democrats, such as senators Robert Byrd, Mike Mansfield, Frank Church and Hubert Humphrey, all voted for the pipeline.

But Biden cast one of only five votes against the pipeline that has produced more than 15 billion barrels of oil, supplied nearly 20 percent of this nation's oil, created tens of thousands of jobs, added hundreds of billions of dollars to the U.S. economy and reduced money transfers to the nation's enemies by about the same amount.

The only argument against the pipeline was that it would harm the caribou, an argument that was both trivial and wrong. The caribou population near the pipeline increased from 5,000 in the 1970s to 32,000 by 2002.

It would have been bad enough to vote against the pipeline bill even if it had hurt the caribou. A sane person would still say: Our enemies have us in a vice grip. Sorry, caribou, you've got to take one for the team. But when the pipeline goes through and the caribou population sextuples in the next 20 years, you really look like a moron.

We couldn't possibly expect Couric to ask Biden about a vote that is the equivalent of voting against the invention of the wheel. But couldn't she have come up with just one follow-up question for Biden on FDR's magnificent handling of the 1929 stock market crash?

Or here's a question the public is dying to know: "If Obama wanted a historically delusional vice president, why not Lyndon LaRouche?" At least LaRouche didn't vote against the Alaskan pipeline.

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

Gwen Ifill—A Debate "Moderator" in the Tank for Obama

By Michelle Malkin
http://www.vdare.com/
September 30, 2008

My dictionary defines "moderator" as "the nonpartisan presiding officer of a town meeting." On Thursday, PBS anchor Gwen Ifill will serve as moderator for the first and only vice presidential debate. The stakes are high. The Commission on Presidential Debates, with the assent of the two campaigns, decided not to impose any guidelines on her duties or questions.


Gwen Ifill interviews Keynote speaker Barack Obama at the 2004 Democratic National Convention (PBS).

But there is nothing "moderate" about where Ifill stands on Barack Obama. She's so far in the tank for the Democratic presidential candidate, her oxygen delivery line is running out.

In an imaginary world where liberal journalists are held to the same standards as everyone else, Ifill would be required to make a full disclosure at the start of the debate. She would be required to turn to the cameras and tell the national audience that she has a book coming out on Jan. 20, 2009—a date that just happens to coincide with the inauguration of the next president of the United States.

The title of Ifill's book? "The Breakthrough: Politics and Race in the Age of Obama." Nonpartisan my foot.

Random House, her publisher, is already busy hyping the book with YouTube clips of Ifill heaping praise on her subjects, including Obama and Obama-endorsing Mass. Gov. Deval Patrick. The official promo for the book gushes:

"In 'The Breakthrough,' veteran journalist Gwen Ifill surveys the American political landscape, shedding new light on the impact of Barack Obama's stunning presidential campaign and introducing the emerging young African American politicians forging a bold new path to political power. Drawing on interviews with power brokers like Sen. Obama, former Secretary of State Colin Powell, Vernon Jordan, the Rev. Jesse Jackson and many others, as well as her own razor-sharp observations and analysis of such issues as generational conflict and the 'black enough' conundrum, Ifill shows why this is a pivotal moment in American history."

Ifill and her publisher are banking on an Obama/Biden win to buoy her book sales. The moderator expected to treat both sides fairly has grandiosely declared this the "Age of Obama." Can you imagine a right-leaning journalist writing a book about the "stunning" McCain campaign and its "bold" path to reform timed for release on Inauguration Day—and then expecting a slot as a moderator for the nation's sole vice presidential debate?

Yeah, I just registered 6.4 on the Snicker Richter Scale, too.

Despite the protestations of her colleagues that she will be fair, Ifill has appeared on numerous radio and TV talk shows over the past several months to cash in on her access to the Obama campaign. She recently penned a fawning cover story on the Obamas for Essence magazine that earned much buzz. The title? "The Obamas: Portrait of an American Family." A sample of Ifill's hard-hitting investigative journalism, illustrated with Kennedy-esque photos of the Obamas and children posing at home on the back porch and by the piano:

"Barack Obama is sitting in the back of his rented luxury campaign bus with its granite counters and two flat-screen TVs. The Illinois senator's arms are wrapped around his wife, Michelle, whom he doesn't get to see much these days. At this very moment he is, of all things, singing."

During the Democratic National Convention, Ifill offered her neutral analysis on NBC News before Michelle Obama's speech: "A lot of people have never seen anything that looks like a Michelle Obama before. She's educated, she's beautiful, she's tall, she tells you what she thinks and they hope that she can tell a story about Barack Obama and about herself."

During the Republican National Convention, the PBS ombudsman fielded numerous complaints about Ifill's coverage of Sarah Palin's speech. Wrote Brian Meyers of Granby, Ct.:

"I was appalled by Gwen Ifill's commentary directly following Gov. Sarah Palin's speech. Her attitude was dismissive and the look on her face was one of disgust. Clearly, she was agitated by what most critics view as a well-delivered speech. It is quite obvious that Ms. Ifill supports Obama as she struggled to say anything redemptive about Gov. Palin's performance. I am disappointed in Ms. Ifill's complete disregard for journalistic objectivity."

Like Obama, Ifill, who is black, is quick to play the race card at the first sign of criticism. In an interview with the Washington Post a few weeks ago, she carped: "[N]o one's ever assumed a white reporter can't cover a white candidate."[In a Historic Year, Ifill Has One Thing to Do: Her Job, By Howard Kurtz, September 4, 2008]

It's not the color of your skin, sweetie. It's the color of your politics.
Perhaps Ifill will be able to conceal it this week. But if the "stunning" "Breakthrough" she's rooting for comes to pass on Jan. 20, 2009, nobody will be fooled.

COPYRIGHT CREATORS SYNDICATE, INC.

- Michelle Malkin [email her] is author of Invasion: How America Still Welcomes Terrorists, Criminals, and Other Foreign Menaces to Our Shores. Click here for Peter Brimelow’s review. Click here for Michelle Malkin's website. Michelle Malkin's latest book is Unhinged: Exposing Liberals Gone Wild.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

No one's clean in this mess

Democrats and Republicans must share the blame for the failure to pass a $700-billion bailout plan.

By Jonah Goldberg
Los Angeles Times
http://www.latimes.com/
September 30, 2008

On Sunday evening, Republican House Minority Leader John A. Boehner explained his considered opinion on the $700-billion Wall Street bailout plan: It's a "crap sandwich," he said, but he was going to eat it.

Well, it turned out he couldn't shove it down his colleagues' throats. The bill failed on a bipartisan basis, but it was the Republicans who failed to deliver the votes they promised. Some complained that Democratic Speaker Nancy Pelosi drove some of them to switch their votes with her needlessly partisan floor speech on the subject. Of course Pelosi's needlessly partisan. This is news?

The Republican complaint is beyond childish. Democratic Rep. Barney Frank, a man saturated with guilt for this crisis, nonetheless was right to ridicule the GOP crybabies on Monday. "I'll make an offer," he added. "Give me [their] names and I will go talk uncharacteristically nicely to them and tell them what wonderful people they are and maybe they'll now think about the country."

Would that Frank had been imbued with such a spirit earlier. Frank, chairman of the House Financial Services Committee, has spent the last few years ridiculing Alan Greenspan, John McCain and others who sought more regulation for Fannie Mae's market-distorting schemes -- the fons et origo of this financial crisis. Now he says "the private sector got us into this mess." His partner in crime, Senate Banking Committee Chairman Christopher J. Dodd (D-Conn.), a chief beneficiary of Fannie Mae lobbyists' largesse, claims this mess is the result of poor oversight -- without even hinting at the fact he is in charge of oversight of banks. They sound like pimps complaining about the prevalence of STDs among prostitutes.

And let us not forget that the Democrats, with a 31-seat majority, could not get 95 of their own to vote for the bailout, largely because it didn't provide enough taxpayer money to their left-wing special interests. Would that they thought about the country.

The one man who truly tried to treat this crisis like a crisis -- McCain -- was ridiculed by Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, who implored him to come to Washington to help in the first place. And the news media, which now treat any Republican action that threatens a Barack Obama victory as inherently dishonorable, uncritically accepted the bald Democratic lie that McCain ruined a bipartisan bailout deal last Friday.

This is not to say that McCain knows what to do. Faced with an unprecedented financial crisis involving frozen global credit markets and a maelstrom of moral hazard, his standard response is to talk about wiping out earmarks and eliminating waste, fraud and abuse. Memo to Mr. McCain: Waste, fraud and abuse are the only things holding the system together at this point.

Obama is no better. The man has spent two weeks irresponsibly excoriating his opponent for saying the fundamentals of the economy are strong -- a perfectly leaderly thing for McCain to have said during a panic. Then, campaigning in Colorado on Monday, the day the market plunged 777.68 points, Obama proclaimed: "We've got the long-term fundamentals that will really make sure this economy grows."

Perhaps after Al Qaeda seizes Baghdad, a President Obama would finally declare, "Hey, we can win this thing!"

Meanwhile, President Bush, his popularity ratings stuck at below-freezing numbers, has decided to cling to Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson for warmth on the grounds that the vaunted former Goldman Sachs chair has the credibility to sell the solution to a problem he's been exacerbating for 18 months. When a reporter for Forbes magazine asked a Treasury spokesman last week why Congress had to lay out $700 billion, the answer came back: "It's not based on any particular data point." Rather: "We just wanted to choose a really large number."

There's a confidence builder.

As for the reputedly free-market firebrands of the congressional GOP, with whom my sympathies generally lie, I cannot let pass without comment the fact that they controlled the legislative branch for most of the last eight years. Only now, when capitalism is in flames, does this fire brigade try to enforce the free-market fire codes without compromise.

I loathe populism. But if there ever has been a moment when reasonable men's hands itch for the pitchfork, this must surely be it. No one is blameless. No one is pure. Two decades of crapulence by the political class has been prologue to the era of coprophagy that is now upon us. It is crap sandwiches for as far as the eye can see.

jgoldberg@latimescolumnists.com

Monday, September 29, 2008

Mainstream US Islamic Websites -- and Terror

By Patrick Poole
http://www.frontpagemag.com/
Monday, September 29, 2008

In counterterrorism circles there is significant buzz about “Al-Qaeda 2.0”, warning of highly decentralized jihadist networks operating independently and driven by a highly toxic internet-inspired Islamic ideology. The sad reality is, however, that an increasing number of jihadist websites, especially those in the English language, are finding safe haven in the US – and the US government seems powerless, or unwilling, to stop them.

Other commentators have explored at length the “Al-Qaeda 2.0” phenomenon, but what has thus far gone unreported is how mainstream Islamic websites associated with some of the most visible Islamic organizations in the US are openly promoting extremist ideology and terrorism.

This is nothing new, of course. Before and shortly after 9/11, the Ohio State chapter of the Muslim Student Association ran an email service called MSANews, where virtually every Islamic terrorist organization in the world directly posted their public statements, including Al-Qaeda, HAMAS, Hezbollah, Islamic Jihad, the Armed Islamic Group and the Algerian Islamic Salvation Front. MSANews also published all of Osama bin Laden’s pre-9/11 statements, calling him “sheikh” and identifying him as a “Saudi dissident”, not a terrorist. According to an Associated Press article published just weeks after 9/11, MSANews was the subject of a federal investigation for promoting the sales of jihadist videos praising the Taliban and Al-Qaeda. The MSANews list, which operated on the taxpayer-supported servers of The Ohio State University, shut down soon afterwards.
More recently, the media has focused on the case of Charlotte, North Carolina resident, Samir Khan. Fox News recently reported that Khan’s website, inshallahshahid, features videos of terrorists bombing US military vehicles, provides links to the writings of Al-Qaeda chiefs Osama bin Laden and Ayman al-Zawahiri, and praises “martyrdom bombers” who sacrifice their lives “for the sake of Islam”. Last October, the New York Times reported on Khan’s online efforts, observing that he is just one of many new faces of what Al-Qaeda calls the “Islamic jihadi media”. While Samir Khan lost his job last month after a 3-part investigative report was aired by Charlotte CBS affiliate WBTV, Khan continues to operate his website with impunity.

The same is true for the popular Islamic website, Islamicity.com, which operates an entire video channel dedicated to Yemeni Al-Qaeda cleric and bin Laden mentor, Abd al-Majid Al-Zindani, who was listed by the US government as a Specially Designated Global Terrorist back in February 2004. In several of Zindani’s videos – videos which bear the embedded Islamicity logo – he is seen guarded by a man wielding an AK-47 (for more background on Zindani, see John Devon’s article, “Yemeni Shiekh of Hate”). The website states that Islamicity is run by Human Assistance and Development International (HUDI), a tax-exempt not-for-profit organization based in Culver City, California.

But Islamicity is not your small mom-and-pop jihadist website. According to Alexa, Islamicity has revenues of $10-50 million each year and is among the top 25,000 websites in the world. And it is backed by some heavy-hitters in the North American Islamic community, most notably Jamal Badawi and Abdullah Idris Ali, both on the board of directors of the Islamic Society of North America, which claims to be largest Islamic organization in North America. Badawi has a regular radio show hosted by Islamicity with hundreds of programs archived on their site, and Idris Ali has done promotional videos for the website encouraging viewers to subscribe. Another major supporter is Dr. Ahmed Sakr, one of the original founders and former president of the Muslim Student Association of the US and Canada.

Curiously, the CEO of Islamicity, Mohammed Aleem, was a prosecution witness for the federal government against another website operator, Sami Omar Al-Hussayen, who the government charged with fostering terrorism on the Islamway website, owned by the Ann Arbor, Michigan-based Islamic Assembly of North America (IANA) and ranked by Alexa as one of the top 1,500 websites in the world. During the trial, Hussayen’s defense attorneys attempted to question Aleem about similar material appearing on his own Islamicity website supporting terrorism, but the judge wouldn’t allow that line of questioning. He also prevented the jury from seeing a defense of suicide bombings published on the IANA Islamway website. Predictably, Hussayen was acquitted on criminal charges, but was later deported for immigration violations.

Even more interesting for our present discussion, the Islamway website originally operated from Canada until a series of articles was published by National Post reporter Stewart Bell just days before 9/11 exposing that the website published an “invitation to jihad” and provided instructions on how to train at terrorist camps run by Al-Qaeda. Islamway was defended by the Council on American Islamic Relations (CAIR), which published several action alerts and press releases decrying the newspaper’s “tabloid journalism” and promoting Islamophobia, directing its supporters to besiege the paper’s editors to complain of the supposedly “anti-Muslim” bias of the reporter. The National Post reportedly received death threats during CAIR’s protest (again, which occurred less than two weeks before 9/11). The Royal Canadian Mounted Police initiated an investigation at the request of B’nai B’rith Canada, but the website relocated to the US, prompting authorities there to drop their inquiry.

Perhaps emboldened by Hussayen’s acquittal, Islamway continues to publish incendiary material. For instance, the website features nearly two dozen audio lectures by convicted Northern Virginia jihad network leader Ali Al-Tamimi, who is currently serving life in prison after being convicted of soliciting others to wage war against the US. Al-Tamimi was a longtime leader of IANA, Islamway’s parent organization. Two other prominent names appear on Islamway’s list of speakers – ISNA’s Abdullah Idris Ali and Jamal Badawi.

Two other names featured at Islamway are also worthy of mention: Khalid Yasin and Bilal Phillips. Both men are American-born converts to Islam now living outside the US, and both were featured in the January 2007 UK Channel 4 “Undercover Mosque” exposé, which investigated the propagation of extremist hate teachings in mosques in the UK.
During the program, Phillips was secretly recorded by a Channel 4 operative defending pedophilia, saying that Mohammad’s marriage to nine-year old Aisha, while violating current laws, was entirely acceptable according to Islam:

The prophet Muhammad practically outlined the rules regarding marriage prior to puberty. With his practice, he clarified what is permissible, and that is why we shouldn't have any issues about an older man marrying a younger woman," he said. "It is looked down upon the society today, but we know that the prophet Muhammad practiced it. It wasn't abuse or exploitation, it was marriage ," he added.

Khalid Yasin, who recently conducted a US tour, is one of the most recognized international hate sheikhs. In 2005, his extremist teachings were openly condemned by Australian NSW Premier Bob Carr, and in the Undercover Mosque program, Khalid was recorded condemning the beliefs of Christians and Jews as “filth”. In another clip aired on the program, he says that the Quran justified wife-beating and that equal rights for women are a “delusion” and “foolishness”. Yasin also openly traffics in bizarre conspiracy theories, claiming that AIDS was created at a US government lab and spread in Third World countries by the US through UN relief agencies and Christian missionaries.

But Islamway is not the only purveyor of Khalid Yasin and Bilal Phillips’ teachings. In fact, the audio sermons and DVDs of these two hate sheikhs are featured prominently by Ilmquest Productions, the media sales arm of the AlMaghrib Institute. AlMaghrib, a wildly popular Islamic studies program, operates chapters in more than a dozen cities in the US and Canada offering dual-weekend long seminars. An Arab News article describes the attraction of AlMaghrib – state-of-the-art advertising, slick graphic presentations, and young Saudi Wahhabi-trained instructors using Western vernacular.

Another speaker whose products are hawked by Ilmquest is Anwar Al-Aulaqi, who the Washington Post reported earlier this year is wanted by the FBI for questioning about his extensive contacts with Al-Qaeda. Prior to 9/11 he was the spiritual director for two of the 9/11 hijackers, Nawaf Al Hazmi and Khalid Al Mihdhar. Al-Aulaqi helped the two 9/11 terrorists locate housing in San Diego, and the pair followed Al-Aulaqi when he moved to the Washington DC area in 2001. He also operated the US offices of a charity founded by Al-Zindani which federal prosecutors claim was used as a front “used to support Al-Qaeda and Osama bin Laden”. Al-Aulaqi fled to Yemen in 2002 and worked for designated terrorist Abd Al-Majid Al-Zindani. (As an aside, US News and World Report states Aulaqi was arrested several times for soliciting prostitutes. At least they were able to arrest him on something.)

But it isn’t just sermons and videos promoted on US Islamic websites. For those seeking more practical and more personalized instructions, a number of websites allow users to address questions to Islamic scholars to obtain judicial rulings, or fatwas. One such website is IslamQA.com, where you can get detailed rulings on such pressing contemporary topics, such as when a Muslim can enslave an infidel and use female slaves sexually. The website’s ruling?

The reason why a person may be taken as a slave is his being a kaafir (infidel) and waging war against Allaah and His Messenger. If Allaah enables the Muslims who are striving and sacrificing their lives and their wealth and all that Allaah has given them to make the word of Allaah supreme over the kaafirs, then He allows them to enslave the kuffaar when they capture them, unless the ruler chooses to free them or to ransom them, if that serves the interests of the Muslims.

Another fatwa at IslamQA responds to a question from an inquirer wanting to know what to do with his wife who has left Islam. In addition to directing him to leave his wife, he directs that if he lives in a country with an Islamic government that should be reported to authorities and if remaining unrepentant, she should be executed as an apostate:

If he has a kaafir wife, it is not permissible for him to stay married to her. He has to advise her and establish proof against her, then leave her. If he is in a place where there is an Islamic government and sharee’ah law, then he has to refer her case to the Muslim qaadi, for him to ask her to repent. If she does not repent then the ruling of Allaah should be carried out on her, which is execution, because the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said: “Whoever changes his religion [leaves Islam], execute him.

These extremist rulings aren’t just limited to fatwas, but are also included in the notes in various versions of the Quran offered on a number of prominent websites. One popular Saudi-authorized English translation is “The Noble Quran”, which among other things contains verse-by-verse commentary exhortating jihad against non-Muslims and expressing hatred of Jews and Christians. This is the only English version of the Quran made available on the Islamway website.

Counterterrorism expert Daveed Gartenstein-Ross has previously analyzed the commentary in “The Noble Quran”, particularly the passages advocating armed jihad against non-Muslims:

An early footnote in this translation lays out, at length, the importance of jihad: "Al-Jihad (holy fighting) in Allah's Cause (with full force of numbers and weaponry) is given the utmost importance in Islam and is one of its pillars (on which it stands). By Jihad Islam is established, Allah's Word is made superior, . . . and His Religion (Islam) is propagated. By abandoning Jihad (may Allah protect us from that) Islam is destroyed and the Muslims fall into an inferior position; their honour is lost, their lands are stolen, their rule and authority vanish. Jihad is an obligatory duty in Islam on every Muslim, and he who tries to escape from this duty, or does not in his innermost heart wish to fulfil this duty, dies with one of the qualities of a hypocrite." Thus, this translation both rules out non-military interpretations of jihad by specifying that it involves "full force of numbers and weaponry) and also states that it is "an obligatory duty on every Muslim."

What troubled Gartenstein-Ross, expressed here and in another article, is that this particular version of the Quran was actively distributed in American prisons by a number of Islamic organizations, some of which have since been closed by the US government and designated terrorist organizations. But the Qurans still circulate in many institutions without the slightest concern by prison authorities.

The promotion of terror and hatred on Islamic websites appears to be a problem that everyone readily acknowledges, but few have any substantive suggestions to confront. One section of the Patriot Act attempting to curb active online recruitment by terrorist organizations was gutted by a federal judge in the Hussayen/Islamway prosecution as infringing on First and Fifth Amendment protections.

Having just passed the seventh anniversary of 9/11, those who promote Islamic terrorism are moving their online recruiting and instruction operations to the US where they can operate free from any fear of legal repercussions. What compounds this travesty is that some of the most prominent Islamic organizations in the US are actively associated with websites actively promoting terrorism, violence and hatred.

And as I’ve discussed elsewhere, these are the same organizations being consulted at the highest levels of our government to help shape national policy and hailed by the government officials as “moderates”. If the violent deaths of thousands of our fellow citizens in a single day and witnessed by the entire world were insufficient for us to begin to address these pandemic problems, what unspeakable future tragedy will it take finally spur our leaders to action?

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Frank's fingerprints are all over the financial fiasco

By Jeff Jacoby
Boston Globe Columnist
http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/
September 28, 2008

'THE PRIVATE SECTOR got us into this mess. The government has to get us out of it."

That's Barney Frank's story, and he's sticking to it. As the Massachusetts Democrat has explained it in recent days, the current financial crisis is the spawn of the free market run amok, with the political class guilty only of failing to rein the capitalists in. The Wall Street meltdown was caused by "bad decisions that were made by people in the private sector," Frank said; the country is in dire straits today "thanks to a conservative philosophy that says the market knows best." And that philosophy goes "back to Ronald Reagan, when at his inauguration he said, 'Government is not the answer to our problems; government is the problem.' "

In fact, that isn't what Reagan said. His actual words were: "In this present crisis, government is not the solution to our problem; government is the problem." Were he president today, he would be saying much the same thing.

Because while the mortgage crisis convulsing Wall Street has its share of private-sector culprits they weren't the ones who "got us into this mess." Barney Frank's talking points notwithstanding, mortgage lenders didn't wake up one fine day deciding to junk long-held standards of creditworthiness in order to make ill-advised loans to unqualified borrowers. It would be closer to the truth to say they woke up to find the government twisting their arms and demanding that they do so - or else.

The roots of this crisis go back to the Carter administration. That was when government officials, egged on by left-wing activists, began accusing mortgage lenders of racism and "redlining" because urban blacks were being denied mortgages at a higher rate than suburban whites.

The pressure to make more loans to minorities (read: to borrowers with weak credit histories) became relentless. Congress passed the Community Reinvestment Act, empowering regulators to punish banks that failed to "meet the credit needs" of "low-income, minority, and distressed neighborhoods." Lenders responded by loosening their underwriting standards and making increasingly shoddy loans. The two government-chartered mortgage finance firms, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, encouraged this "subprime" lending by authorizing ever more "flexible" criteria by which high-risk borrowers could be qualified for home loans, and then buying up the questionable mortgages that ensued.

All this was justified as a means of increasing homeownership among minorities and the poor. Affirmative-action policies trumped sound business practices. A manual issued by the Federal Reserve Bank of Boston advised mortgage lenders to disregard financial common sense. "Lack of credit history should not be seen as a negative factor," the Fed's guidelines instructed. Lenders were directed to accept welfare payments and unemployment benefits as "valid income sources" to qualify for a mortgage. Failure to comply could mean a lawsuit.

As long as housing prices kept rising, the illusion that all this was good public policy could be sustained. But it didn't take a financial whiz to recognize that a day of reckoning would come. "What does it mean when Boston banks start making many more loans to minorities?" I asked in this space in 1995. "Most likely, that they are knowingly approving risky loans in order to get the feds and the activists off their backs . . . When the coming wave of foreclosures rolls through the inner city, which of today's self-congratulating bankers, politicians, and regulators plans to take the credit?"

Frank doesn't. But his fingerprints are all over this fiasco. Time and time again, Frank insisted that Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac were in good shape. Five years ago, for example, when the Bush administration proposed much tighter regulation of the two companies, Frank was adamant that "these two entities, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, are not facing any kind of financial crisis." When the White House warned of "systemic risk for our financial system" unless the mortgage giants were curbed, Frank complained that the administration was more concerned about financial safety than about housing.

Now that the bubble has burst and the "systemic risk" is apparent to all, Frank blithely declares: "The private sector got us into this mess." Well, give the congressman points for gall. Wall Street and private lenders have plenty to answer for, but it was Washington and the political class that derailed this train. If Frank is looking for a culprit to blame, he'll find one suspect in the nearest mirror.

Jeff Jacoby can be reached at jacoby@globe.com.

Fleetwood Mac’s guitar slinger back for another album, tour

By COREY STULCE
The Telegraph (Alton, IL)
http://www.thetelegraph.com/
September 25, 2008 - 11:36AM

Fans of Fleetwood Mac's prolific guitarist/troubadour got a "Gift of Screws" last week - the second solo release from Lindsey Buckingham in less than two years.

The rocking affair has been tinkering around in one form or another for quite some time, though Buckingham only recently added the finishing touches to the album after a solo tour in 2007. He returns to the area Monday for a gig at St. Louis' The Pageant - arguably the best house in the area to see a performer of Buckingham's caliber.


He said the chorus of the title track - coming off as a punk-rockabilly hybrid with some tribal screams tossed in - is directly ripped from an Emily Dickinson poem. "You can't necessarily expect to achieve what you're looking for or to find meaning in something just from what is given to you. You have to take those gifts and apply your own vision and love and effort," Buckingham told The Telegraph.

"(Dickinson's) making this analogy about making perfume and how it's not going to be just the sun making the flower grow. You've got to take the petals and press them and turn the screw, basically. The ‘Gift of Screws' is you knowing what you get out of it."

"That was something I related to very much," he added.

His Mac mates Mick Fleetwood and John McVie provide percussion and bass on that track, and Buckingham confirmed what has been rumored about for some time - that he and the rest of the band, sans Christine McVie, are getting back together for a new album and world tour, which will likely encompass most of 2009-10 - perhaps beyond.

Buckingham said "Gift of Screws" almost ended up on Mac's last album, 2003's "Say You Will," but it was a "little too far out on the edge."

"Mick and I share a love of animal energy and taking that potential in rock out and start to push the envelope," he said."Gift of Screws" is a buoyant ride, full of fantastic solos. He calls it the main act, after 2006's acoustic "Under the Skin." Online reviews of Buckingham's current tour are strong, and mention that the set list leans heavily on the new tracks and that they mix nicely with Mac classics like "Second Hand News" and "Tusk," as well as Lindsey's other solo hits.

The drama behind the scenes of Fleetwood Mac is almost as notorious as the band's songs are familiar. But Buckingham has left his love affair with Stevie Nicks and those drug-fueled '70s days long behind, and is now a family man. He said that has allowed him to open his life up and lead a broader existence.

"For years, the way I got by was to focus on the music and otherwise lead a fairly monk-like existence, and there's nothing wrong with that," he said. "That was sort of the residue from years of ambivalence about our experiences in Fleetwood Mac."

He said that finding a partner later in life and bringing beautiful children into the world reaffirms the cycle of life. Buckingham feels he is at his most creative at this time, and it shows on "Gift of Screws."

It became a bit of a family project as well.

"My son Will was walking around the studio going, ‘Great day. Great day.' I said, ‘What is that?' He said, ‘I don't know. I just made it up.' That became the chorus for the opening track," Buckingham said.

His wife also added some lyrics to a track and added some structure to another, he added."It all starts to intertwine in a very positive way," he said. "It's great. I feel very lucky."

Visit http://www.thepageant.com/ for more information on Monday's concert.

corey_stulce@thetelegraph.com

A ‘Gift’ from Lindsey Buckingham

The Kansas City Star

http://www.kansascity.com

September 28, 2008


The story behind his new album is all about Lindsey Buckingham’s loyalty to Fleetwood Mac. He wrote enough material for a solo album he intended to release as “Gift of Screws” early this decade. Instead all but three of those songs ended up on “Say You Will,” a Fleetwood Mac release in 2003.

Five years and one solo album later — the rather sedate “Under the Skin” — Buckingham has released an updated version of “Screws” (due in stores today), and it sounds like the time and remodeling could have been a stroke of good fortune: This is arguably his best solo album yet.

Over the course of 10 songs (40 minutes), he delivers all the techniques, traits and impulses that have made him respected and admired by fans who think he’s underrespected: the rampant alt-punk moments in “Tusk”; the bright-glossy pop sounds of “Law and Order”; his undying fondness for the Beach Boys and the Wilson brothers; and the avant-pop/rock moments in the epic and deranged “Go Insane.” If there was ever the slightest debate over who had the biggest creative engine in the Mac, this ought to settle it once and for all.

Buckingham is as much a guitar virtuoso as he is a songwriter and rock star, and “Screws” is a loaded with memorable and diverse guitar moments. The opener, “Great Day,” ends with one of those: a lead that sounds like it’s trying to uncage itself to save its life.

From there he glides into “Time Precious Time,” which rides a long, easy wave of acoustic guitar arpeggios. Then comes “Did You Miss Me,” a nuts-and-bolts California pop song that would have been a great summer radio hit (it resembles “Trouble” from “Law and Order”). Unlike “Skin,” which never really shifted from its low-key, sepia-tone mood, “Screws” never stands still.

“I Wanna Wait for You” has the kind of blues vibe we heard way back in “World Turning” or “The Chain.” “Treason” is a lovely, ambient hymn, in the vein of “That’s All for Everyone,” from “Tusk.”

Any Fleetwood Mac resemblances aren’t necessarily accidental: Mick Fleetwood and John McVie stand in as the rhythm section on a couple of songs, including “Love Runs Deeper,” a big, percussive and melodic rock anthem, like “Go Your Own Way.”

The big swerve comes late, in the incendiary title track, where Buckingham taps into his punk fetish and goes a little insane. The song is a hurricane of drums, guitars, jackhammer rhythms, manic vocals and strident lyrics, adapted from the poetry of Emily Dickinson: “Way down here/Everybody needs/Authority makes us bleed, bleed, bleed,” he screams and then cackles maniacally. And it feels so refreshing to hear him sound so visceral and unhinged again.

LINDSEY BUCKINGHAM ‘Gift of Screws’ (Reprise)
★★★ 1/2



Fleetwood Mac leader continues to go his own way

By Alan Sculley - Special to the Provo Daily Herald

http://www.heraldextra.com/

Monday, 22 September 2008


Lindsey Buckingham performs Tuesday, Jan. 23, 2007 at the Fox Theatre. His first three songs were solo acoustic. Jeffry Scott/Arizona Daily Star.


There's one place Lindsey Buckingham wishes he could have snuck into after finishing the controversial 1979 Fleetwood Mac album, "Tusk." "I make the joke that I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall in the board meeting when they first put 'Tusk' on and started listening to that thing over at Warner Bros.," Buckingham said in a recent phone interview.

The reasons for Buckingham's curiosity are obvious enough. "Tusk" was the follow-up album to Fleetwood Mac's blockbuster 1977 release "Rumours." And rather than filling "Tusk" with the kind of finely crafted and accessible pop of its predecessor, Buckingham had steered Fleetwood Mac in a quirkier, more adventurous direction. What's more, "Tusk" was a double album that would have to carry a higher-than-usual retail price.

Buckingham can only imagine the uneasy atmosphere that must have filled the room as the Warner Bros. executives realized their expectations for eight-digit sales of the next Fleetwood Mac album had gone up in smoke.
The topic of "Tusk" is appropriate now because Buckingham -- appearing tonight in concert at the Depot in Salt Lake City -- recently has once again shown his willingness to not play things safe with his music.

In 2006, he released a stripped-back, primarily acoustic CD, "Under the Skin," that prompted words of caution from the Warner Bros. camp.
"It's almost kind of a 'Tusk' in miniature," the guitarist/singer said.
At the time, Buckingham had also begun work on a plugged-in, more commercially viable studio album, which came to be the newly released fifth solo CD, "Gift of Screws." Buckingham said the label asked him to consider putting a few of the full-band songs planned for "Gift of Screws" on "Under the Skin" to make the album more palatable to radio, retailers and fans.

Buckingham, though, stuck to his vision of keeping "Under the Skin" in its acoustic-centric form, and Warner Bros. didn't push the issue, although that meant the label wouldn't put a big push behind the record.

"You know, I think I've earned the right to make whatever album I wanted," Buckingham said, referencing the enduring popularity of Fleetwood Mac. "I think Warner Bros. was quite happy to put out 'Under the Skin.' But there was a qualification from [label president] Tom Whalley at the time saying, 'We'll be happy to put this out, but don't expect us to do a lot' -- and they didn't. So that's OK, though. That was a boutique album."

The reaction to "Gift of Screws" at Warner Bros. Records has been markedly different. And Buckingham said the CD he gave the label might be more musically accessible than even he expected.

"I was actually surprised because on the one hand I didn't really expect to make this as rock and roll as it turned out," Buckingham said. "But once I got my road band down and we started cutting some tracks in my studio downstairs, it just wanted to go that way. Then there were a few songs that had [Fleetwood Mac bassist] John McVie and [Fleetwood Mac drummer] Mick Fleetwood on them that had been waiting around to find a home. And those seemed to want to go in this grouping.

"So when I finally sent it over there, I mean, I was actually very surprised at how strongly they reacted in the positive," he said. "I'm fairly used to a conservative response, shall we say, from the record company as regards to my work. But they're pretty excited about this record."

Warner Bros. has good reason for its enthusiasm. "Gift of Screws" sounds like a CD that could have considerable popularity.

The album is not without its edgy moments. It opens with a pair of quirky (but also attention-grabbing) songs, "Great Day" and "Time Precious Time." The former song is built around bursts of acoustic guitar notes, a programmed beat and a pair of stellar electric guitar solos. The latter tune is a showcase for Buckingham's lightning-fast, finger-picked guitar playing with a vocal that repeats the "time, precious time" phrase as if it was a mantra.

From there, though, "Gift of Screws" shifts more toward the kind of finely crafted, melodic pop that made Fleetwood Mac multi-platinum superstars. In fact, songs such as "Did You Miss Me" and "The Right Place to Fade" would not sound out of place on a Fleetwood Mac album such as "Rumours" or "Tango in the Night" (1987).

Meanwhile, songs like "Wait For You" and "Gift of Screws" -- both of which feature the rhythm section of McVie and Fleetwood -- find Buckingham striking a middle ground between hit-worthy accessibility and musical adventurism.

Buckingham will feature several songs from "Gift of Screws" on his tour this fall. The shows find him joined by the same musicians that played on his tour to support "Under the Skin" -- Neale Heywood (guitar), Taku Hirano (drums) and Brett Tuggle (bass, keyboards). The character of the evening, though, will be different.

"Last time, I was doing a lot of, spending a lot of time out there by myself doing single guitar pieces," Buckingham said. "I'm still doing some of that, obviously, but we're going to hit the ground running this time and rock a bit more. That seems to be what the ['Gift Of Screws'] album is doing."

Buckingham's tour will run well into the fall. After that, he plans to turn his attention to Fleetwood Mac, the group he joined in 1975 along with his then-girlfriend, singer Stevie Nicks.

The band recently announced that it will tour the United States next year. But this outing will feature the four core band members -- Buckingham, Fleetwood, McVie and Nicks, a change from earlier this year when Sheryl Crow announced that she was likely to join Fleetwood Mac for the tour and possibly an album.

Buckingham said Crow's statements caught the band members off guard, and the idea of inviting Crow into the band never went beyond the discussion stage. The whole issue, Buckingham noted, grew out of the fact that Nicks, who is good friends with Crow, was interested in adding a woman to Fleetwood Mac to replace retired singer/keyboardist Christine McVie.

On the tour supporting the group's 2003 CD, "Say You Will," Nicks had missed the male-female balance that Christine McVie brought to Fleetwood Mac, and floated the idea of adding Crow.

"It [Christine McVie's absence] gave me a lot of room to be a guy, to sort of do the kind of thing I do on stage and exert the kind of energy I exert, and to push that envelope a little bit," Buckingham said. "Consequently, I had a great time doing it. I think Stevie was a little less comfortable with the divide that it created between herself and me. I think she missed Christine's presence. She missed that kind of mitigating force that sort of glued [things] together. And, consequently, when it came down to us contemplating touring next year, I think Stevie was possibly looking for some sort of a comrade on stage.

"The whole thing was a complete hypothetical," Buckingham said. "There had been no real, anything set in stone at all. It was just something we were considering, period."


Today's Tune: Fleetwood Mac - Bleed To Love Her (Live)



(Click on title to play video)

Saturday, September 27, 2008

An Actor Whose Baby Blues Came in Many Shades of Gray

An Appraisal

By MANOHLA DARGIS
The New York Times
http://www.nytimes.com/
September 28, 2008


Melvyn Douglas (left) and Paul Newman in "Hud".

Paul Newman always wore his fame lightly, his beauty too. The beauty may have been more difficult to navigate, when he was young in the 1950’s and still being called the next Marlon Brando, establishing his bona fides at the Actors Studio and on Broadway.

Yet Mr. Newman, who died at his home in Westport, Conn., on Friday, never seemed to resent his good looks, as some men did; instead, he shrugged them off without letting them go. He learned to use that flawless face, so we could see the complexities underneath. And later, when age had extracted its price, he learned to use time too, showing us how beauty could be beaten down and nearly used up.

You see the dangerous side of his beauty in “Hud,” Martin Ritt’s irresistible if disingenuous 1963 drama about a Texas ranching family in which Mr. Newman plays the womanizing son of a cattleman (the Hollywood veteran Melvyn Douglas), who’s hanging onto a fast-fading way of life. The movie traffics in piety: the father refuses to dig for the oil that might change the family’s fortunes because he doesn’t approve of sucking the land dry. Mr. Newman plays the son, Hud, and it’s his job to sneer at the old man’s naïveté and to play the villain, which he does so persuasively that he ends up being the film’s most enduring strength.

A lot of reviewers clucked about Hud and Mr. Newman’s grasping bad-boy ways (the word they used then was materialism), but the camera loves this cowboy Lothario so much — or, rather, the actor playing him — that his father’s high-and-mighty ways don’t stand a chance. Nobody else much does, either: when Hud hits on the family housekeeper (a smoky-voiced, smoking Patricia Neal), he sinks back in her bed and, with his nose deep in a daisy, asks with a leer, “What else you good at?” Rarely has the act of smelling a flower seemed as delectably dirty. It’s no wonder that Pauline Kael, who refused to buy just about anything else this movie was selling, gave Mr. Newman his due.

There are some men, Kael wrote, who “project such a traditional heroic frankness and sweetness that the audience dotes on them, seeks to protect them from harm or pain.” Mr. Newman did that for Kael, enough so that she was inspired to write about her own past and the California town that she “and so many of my friends came out of” — and, here, I think she means girlfriends — “escaping from the swaggering small-town hotshots like Hud.”

What’s striking is that what got Kael going wasn’t the actor or his performance but the man, who, because he seemed to offer up an intangible part of himself, something genuine and real, something we could take home, became a true movie star.


As the convict in "Cool Hand Luke" (1967). "Mr. Newman is excellent," Bosley Crowther wrote in The Times, "at the top of his sometime erratic form in the role of this warped and alienated loner whose destiny it is to lose."

Photo: Warner Brothers


I don’t think Mr. Newman was ever as beautiful as he is in “Hud.” His lean, hard-muscled body seems to slash against the wide-screen landscape, evoking the oil derricks to come, and the black-and-white cinematography turns his famous baby blues an eerie shade of gray. The character would be a heartbreaker if he were interested in breaking hearts instead of making time with the bodies that come with them. That’s supposed to make Hud a mean man, but mostly he seems self-interested. No one is tearing him apart and Mr. Newman doesn’t try to plumb the depths with the role, which makes the character and the performance feel more contemporary than many of the head cases of the previous decade. He finds depths in these shallows.

Early in his career, Mr. Newman was often mistaken for Brando, so much so that he took to signing the other man’s autograph. Both studied at the Actors Studio and jumped to Hollywood, but there’s not much else to connect them beyond our demand for the Next Big Thing. The resemblance seems hard to grasp now, given their trajectories and how differently the two register onscreen: Brando sizzles, while Mr. Newman is as cool as dry ice. And unlike Brando, who at his death was often unkindly remembered for his baroque excesses, Mr. Newman seemed immune, bulletproof. (An exception: his support for Eugene McCarthy, which landed him on Nixon’s enemies list.) He had a talent for evasion.

It was a talent that served him well during the 1960s, the decade in which he picked up the mantle of Hollywood stardom that Brando had shrugged off. Mr. Newman was one of the dominating male screen figures of that decade, appearing in critical and commercial successes like “Cool Hand Luke,” a 1967 prison movie-cum-religious-allegory, and the 1969 western “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” in which he found a partner in charm in Robert Redford. These days, 1969 is more often remembered for another buddy movie, “Easy Rider,” but “Butch Cassidy” may have had more lasting impact on the so-called New Hollywood, which struck gold with two photogenic male leads whose easy, breezy rapport helped transform rebellion into a salable, lucrative package.

Mr. Newman, who signed a contract with Warner Brothers in the 1950s, was a transitional figure between the old Hollywood and the new. Warners foolishly put him in a ludicrous 1954 costume extravaganza called “The Silver Chalice.” He did better as the boxer Rocky Graziano in the 1956 biopic “Somebody Up There Likes Me.” His Lower East Side accent is so thick it could have been served on rye at Katz’s Delicatessen, but he holds the screen with his pretty-boy kisser and an intense, at times wild physical performance that suggests a terrific will behind that impeccable facade. He seems to be hurling himself at the camera, as if desperate to get our attention.


For his portrayal of Fast Eddie Felson in "The Hustler" (1961), Mr. Newman received his second of eight Oscar nominations as best actor in a leading role. He later reprised the role in "The Color of Money" (1986).
Photo: 20th Century Fox


The roles improved, as did the performances, and suddenly he didn’t seem to be trying as hard. He’s silky smooth as a pool shark named Fast Eddie in Robert Rossen’s 1961 high-key drama “The Hustler,” in which Jackie Gleason, Piper Laurie and George C. Scott each take turns stealing scenes. At first Mr. Newman seems outclassed by his co-stars — the film asks the actor, a nibbler rather than an outright thief, to do too much big acting. But he’s still awfully good. He seduces and repels by turn, pulling you in so you can watch him peel Fast Eddie’s defenses like layers of dead skin. It’s a wonder there was anything left by the time he revived the character 25 years later in “The Color of Money.”

He won an Oscar in 1987 for best actor for resurrecting Fast Eddie in that Martin Scorsese film, a piteously delayed response from his peers, who dangled six such nominations before giving up the prize. (Hedging its bets, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences had tossed Mr. Newman an honorary Oscar the year before.) He’s superb in “The Color of Money,” gracefully navigating its slick surfaces and periodically scratching beneath them, playing a variation on what had by then in movies like “The Drowning Pool” (1975), “Slap Shot” (1977) and “The Verdict” (1982) become a defining Newman type: the guy on the hustle who seems to have nothing much left but keeps his motor running, just in case.

The movies are not kind to older actors and yet Mr. Newman walked away from this merciless business seemingly unscathed. During his second and third acts, he kept his dignity partly by playing men who seemed to have relinquished theirs through vanity or foolishness. Some of them were holding on to decency in an indecent world; others had nearly let it slip through their fingers.

Decency seems to have come easily to Mr. Newman himself, as evidenced by his philanthropic and political endeavors, which never devolved into self-promotion. It was easy to take his intelligence for granted as well as his talent, which survived even the occasional misstep. At the end of “The Drowning Pool,” a woman wistfully tells Mr. Newman, I wish you’d stay a while. I know how she feels.

Forget Cool: Paul Newman Knew How to Play It Smart

By Stephen Hunter
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, September 28, 2008; A01
http://www.washingtonpost.com

Paul Newman, who died Friday at 83 of cancer, was a beautiful man who never seemed to notice his own beauty.

He was at his worst when the camera did.


20th Century Fox

In this 1969 file photo, actors Robert Redford, left, as the Sundance Kid and Paul Newman as Butch Cassidy appear in this scene from the film "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid."


But far more often, he was at his best when he was too busy thinking to care about the looks he'd been given. He stood for an American archetype: He was the shrewd guy. Practical, tough, urban. He figured angles, calculated odds, charted courses, deployed distractions, maneuvered brilliantly. He wasn't violent, he wasn't a leader, he wasn't Mr. Cool with the babes, he had limited gifts for comedy and highly articulate, dialogue-driven set pieces. But nobody played shrewd better than Paul Newman. He became great playing shrewd.

You could see it in his eyes, and he probably didn't care much whether they were blue or not. You'd see them narrow as he lapsed into concentration, then come alive again as they read cues, divined patterns, perceived dynamics, sniffed weaknesses. He figured it out with a gusto he sold to audiences brilliantly, and you -- with him -- enjoyed his triumphant cerebration.

That, after all, was the point of his most successful movie, "The Sting." As con man Henry Gondorff, a Depression-era shark on a mission of vengeance, he was no '30s gunslinger with a Thompson gun packed away for rattatatat later on. He built elaborate schemes of dramatic fraud, almost a producer as much as a grifter, cast roles, staged action, manipulated illusion. He got his vengeance, all right, he and his buddy Johnny Hooker (that laconic, iconic avatar of blond diffidence, Robert Redford), but it was never in a spasm of killing. It was in the gotcha moment, when the hook, so elaborately prepared, was set with a mighty crank in the throat of a brutal gangster.

The same tactical hydraulics had been applied earlier in "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," again with Redford and the director George Roy Hill, who seemed to understand Newman's gifts better than most. In the western, Butch and Sundance are Wild West robbers, and while the Kid is a gunhand, Butch again is not drawn to the killing but to the money. He's like the Hollywood exec who said, "It's not the money, it's the money." He just wants to get over on people and things, mostly railroads, and seems grievously offended that they don't share his sense of game. They actually hire a posse of professional manhunters to ride him and the Kid down, and he keeps saying in wonder, "Who are those guys?"

It helped, of course, that he and Redford, another embarrassed beauty, had sublime timing and a genuine, if bluff, hearty, masculine affection for each other. In both of their great popular successes, that male bonding is the core of the appeal, because it's so unstated and unsentimentalized. When they go down at the end of "Butch" in the famous freeze-frame that captures them in time a fraction of a second before 300 Bolivian bullets take them apart, it's almost as if a sort of manhood has died: spontaneous, unaffected, generous, capable of love and loyalty, driven by intelligence, unclouded by doubt or recrimination. What came later would be more problematic.

Newman was born of middle-class parents and grew up in Shaker Heights, Ohio, a suburb of Cleveland. Fortune smiled from the start: His father owned a prosperous sporting goods store; his mother was "creative" and encouraged his participation in school drama. But he had a wild side and left his first university. He joined the Navy (it was World War II), and flew as a radioman/gunner on torpedo aircraft. But unlike many, he never made a thing out of it, never pretended to be a hero, never referred to it. In that respect, he was typical of his great generation: It was an obligation, he did it, so what? Now let's get on with life.

After the war, he managed the store for a while -- how un-Paul Newman is that? -- then went to New York to pursue an acting career, where his good looks soon got him noticed.

He rode early television success to his first role, starring in "The Silver Chalice" in 1954. Playing a Greek sculptor named Basil, he spent the picture looking baffled and embarrassed by a thigh-length toga. Paul Newman in a toga? Hollywood, we have a problem.


Warner Brothers

In this 1968 file photo Paul Newman plays a prisoner who becomes a legend to his fellow members of a chain gang in the film "Cool Hand Luke."


The real big break came in 1956, when Robert Wise, with his great eye for talent, picked him to play Rocky Graziano in "Somebody Up There Likes Me." That was the first Paul Newman, of the New Gen Method Acting School, a kind of proto-Brando or post-Dean Dean, almost always (particularly in Tennessee Williams adaptations, which he specialized in -- he got a lot of Southern roles, even if he never quite mastered the accent). He was the sensitive brute, beautiful, muscular, brimming with masculinity if not quite intelligence. (He played Billy the Kid in "The Left Handed Gun" for Arthur Penn as Billy probably was: rather stupid.) In "The Young Philadelphians," they got him into an undershirt to show off the good biceps.

He really hit his stride as he matured and found his lasting persona in a series of "H" pictures most movie buffs remember and adore for their intensity, intelligence and power. These were "Hud," in which he played the amoral son of a noble rancher in modern-day Texas, a great performance not hurt as much as you'd think by the Ohio accent; "Hombre," from an Elmore Leonard novel, as a super-shrewd outcast who finds himself in a stagecoach about to be robbed, and uses his wiles as much as his gun to defend civilization; "Harper," where he was Ross MacDonald's Lew Archer, with the name changed to accommodate the lucky H, another shrewd guy solving a new crime and an old one; and finally the shrewdest of them all (I save the best for last and pass on strict chronology), Robert Rossen's great "The Hustler," about the world of pool sharking. Newman's "Fast Eddie" Felson is all talent and guile, a fast-talking, great-shooting, pool-hustling demon. But he has character issues: hubris disguising doubt disguising fear disguising self-hatred. He is played expertly by another merchant of shrewd, George C. Scott as the malevolent gangster Bert Gordon.

Filmed in black and white by the great James Wong Howe, the movie crackled with the reality of low pool dives, the bitter clash of egos and aspirations, and Jackie Gleason's Zen presence as Minnesota Fats. It was the rare American film that dealt with issues of character instead of plot and for most Baby Boomers remains an icon of drama. Too bad they don't make 'em like that anymore, although they tried when Martin Scorsese directed a later sequel featuring Newman as a mature Fast Eddie. It won Newman his first Oscar in 1987.

But Newman was too protean a personality to be satisfied with just being a movie star. At least four other themes run impressively through his life. He was a lifelong liberal and was one of the first politically active stars, risking his reputation and possibly his livelihood for his beliefs. He campaigned actively for Eugene McCarthy in '68 when that was a hard thing to do, and even till the end of his life, he was a true believer in the classical liberalism of the '60s, with its adoration of the common man, its commitment to racial equality and its hunger for a less-bellicose world stance.

Then there's the driving. A friend who has raced and knows of such things said, "Paul Newman isn't a movie star; he's a world-class racing driver who happens to make his living acting in movies." It was true; discovering the sport in his 40s, he took to it intuitively and developed into a very fine driver. It gave him much pleasure and, in turn, showed the world that stars could be more than pretty boys who let the stuntmen take the risks.

Then there was his charity work. An able chef, Newman decided to market his spaghetti sauce and his salad dressing to the world as "Newman's Own." The foodstuffs were successful from the start, and Newman did something remarkable: He decided to donate all profits to charity. It is reliably reported that he made more than $250 million for charity.

But he was also a family man, remaining married to his second wife, the actress Joanne Woodward, for more than 50 years. He quickly sickened of the Hollywood lifestyle and, since 1960, lived in Connecticut, away from the ugly glitz of the movie town. Handsome, powerful, beloved, he probably could have had any woman in the world; he stayed with the one who brung him . . . that is, who was with him on the rough climb up.

Fifty years a star and 50 years a class act -- how Paul Newman is that?

Actor Paul Newman dies at 83

By Lynn Smith, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
http://www.latimes.com
6:37 PM PDT, September 27, 2008

Paul Newman, the legendary movie star and irreverent cultural icon who created a model philanthropy fueled by profits from a salad dressing that became nearly as famous as he was, has died. He was 83.

Newman died Friday at his home near Westport, Conn., after a long battle with cancer, publicist Jeff Sanderson said.

Stunningly handsome, Newman maintained his superstar status while keeping his distance from its corrupting influences through nearly 100 Broadway, television and movie roles. As an actor and director, he evolved into Hollywood's elder statesman, admired off screen for his quiet generosity, unconventional business sense, race car daring, political activism and enduring marriage to actress Joanne Woodward.

Annoyed by the public's fascination with his resemblance to a Roman statue and his Windex-blue eyes, Newman often chose offbeat character roles. In the 1960s, he helped define the American anti-hero and became identified with the charming misfits, cads and con men in film classics such as "The Hustler," "Hud," "Cool Hand Luke" and "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.""It's a great loss, in so many ways," Martin Scorsese, who directed Newman in "The Color of Money," said in a statement Saturday. "The history of movies without Paul Newman? It's unthinkable. . . . His powerful eloquence, his consummate sense of craft, so consummate that you didn't see any sense of effort up there on the screen, set a new standard."Robert Redford, Newman's "Sundance" co-star, said in a statement, "There is a point where feelings go beyond words. I have lost a real friend. My life -- and this country -- is better for his being in it."


Paul Newman, Glenn Close and Robert Redford at a 2006 Sundance Institute event in New York City.

Newman's poker-game look in "The Sting" -- cunning, watchful, removed, amused, confident, alert -- summed up his power as a person and actor, said Stewart Stern, a screenwriter and longtime friend.

"You never see the whole deck. There's always some card somewhere he may or may not play," Stern said. "Maybe he doesn't even have it."

Newman claimed his success came less from natural talent than from hard work, luck and the tenacity of a terrier.

"Acting," he once said, "is really nothing but exploring certain facets of your own personality trying to become someone else." In early films, he said, he tried to make himself fit the character but later aimed "to make the character come to me."

The actor was proudest, friends say, of his later Oscar-nominated roles in "Absence of Malice," "The Verdict" and "Nobody's Fool," in which he dug deep into the complex emotions of ordinary men struggling for dignity, justice or a sense of connection. In 2003, he was nominated for an Oscar for his last feature film appearance, as a conflicted mob boss in "Road to Perdition." Two years later, at 80, he won an Emmy for playing a meddlesome father in "Empire Falls."


“Hud”

Newman never had any qualms about playing the antihero. And he received his third Oscar nomination for this 1963 modern-day western, directed by Martin Ritt, playing the ruthless Hud Bannon, a young man who doesn’t care about anything or anybody. Hud also treats his elderly rancher father (Melvyn Douglas, a supporting actor Oscar winner) and housekeeper (Patricia Neal, who won best actress) like dirt. The only person who seems to idolize Hud is his teenage nephew Lonnie (Brandon De Wilde), but even the young man grows to realize that his uncle is a ruthless heel.


"He's a majestic figure in the world of acting," said director Arthur Penn, who worked with him in his early career. "He did everything and did it well."

Part of a generation of edgy, naturalistic New York actors who changed Hollywood in the '50s and '60s, Newman was often compared with fellow Method actors Marlon Brando and James Dean. Film critic David Ansen once observed that if the trim actor lacked the others' physical or psychic presence, he was more approachable, even when he played a heel.

"Newman," Ansen wrote, "is our great middleweight movie star."

Nominated eight times for Academy Awards in the best-actor category, Newman won only once, for "The Color of Money" (1986), in which he reprised the role of "Fast" Eddie Felson that he originated in 1961's "The Hustler." He also took home honorary Oscars in 1985 for career achievement and in 1993 for his humanitarian efforts. In later years, however, he boycotted awards shows despite continuing Oscar, Emmy and Tony nominations. He claimed he no longer owned a tuxedo.

In real life, Newman was "the quintessence of class, courtly without being old-fashioned," said Victor Navasky, former editor of the Nation, a liberal magazine in which Newman invested and for which he wrote occasional columns. Private and complex, Newman was also a mischievous beer-loving prankster and an idealist who took to the streets to protest the war in Vietnam.

He was thrilled, friends said, when he heard that he had made President Nixon's enemies list.


“Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid”

This seminal 1969 western directed by George Roy Hill and penned by William Goldman marked the first pairing of Newman and Robert Redford. Not only are they both astonishingly beautiful on screen, the two also have an easy comedic rapport as infamous bank robbers, and they exude a tremendously likability and an unbeatable chemistry. The two quickly became friends, and they would often play practical jokes on each other. The film became the highest grossing western at the time in history. It won four Academy Awards and turned Newman into a box office champ.


Married since 1958 to Woodward, his second wife, Newman cultivated a distinctly un-Hollywood lifestyle, shuttling between a homey New York apartment and a renovated farmhouse in woodsy Westport, from which he pursued passions that included cooking and auto racing.

Highly competitive, Newman was drawn to the track, he told reporters, because in racing, unlike acting, the definition of "good" is not a murky matter of opinion. Although he began to race at 47, he was respected by his sport's peers, and his team placed second in the prestigious Le Mans endurance contest in 1979. At 70, he became the oldest driver to place in a professionally sanctioned auto race when his team took third in the 24-hour race at Daytona, Fla. Still racing into his 80s, Newman escaped uninjured from a car fire in 2005 and entered another race a month later.

Since the 1980s, Newman had devoted more time to Newman's Own, a food products company he founded as a lark that grew into one of the nation's largest charitable organizations. The company, which produces all-natural salad dressings, popcorn, sauces and lemonade, has turned over more than $250 million in after-tax profits to hundreds of groups, including his own Hole in the Wall Gang camps (named after the outlaw gang in "Butch Cassidy").

Friends said Newman abhorred what he called "noisy philanthropy." He felt the awards and honors offered him were excessive and once declined a national medal in a letter to President Clinton, calling such recognition "honorrhea."

When people would say, " 'What a mensch you are,' he would always denigrate himself," said friend Alice Trillin. To friends, Newman was open, if vague, about not always having lived an exemplary life. Exceptionally tolerant of others' foibles, he said, "I used to be a fool myself."

A late bloomer

Friends and neighbors in the Cleveland suburb of Shaker Heights might not have foreseen a future as a sex symbol for Paul Leonard Newman, the late-blooming second son of a sporting goods store owner.

Born Jan. 26, 1925, Newman was too short and scrawny to play football or baseball and once said he regularly had "the bejesus kicked out" of him in school. He was encouraged in the arts by an uncle who wrote poetry and by his mother, who taught him to appreciate music and books and shared details of theater shows she had seen.


“The Color of Money”

The seventh time was the charm for Newman, who won his first and only lead actor Academy Award reprising the role he made famous in 1961’s “The Hustler” — pool shark “Fast Eddie” Felson — in Martin Scorsese’s 1986 continuation. Newman seems to be relishing his return to the signature role. This time around, Felson is a liquor salesman who sees a flaky young kid (Tom Cruise) playing pool and decides to coach him in hopes that his quirky behavior will unnerve the big-money pool players. Roger Ebert said about Newman’s performance: “Watching Newman is always interesting in this movie.... In many of Newman’s close-ups in this movie, he shows an enormous power, a concentration and focus of his essence as an actor.” Newman also won the National Board of Review award.


Though he acted in elementary and high school plays to the delight of his family, he said his father, a strict, hard-working former journalist, considered him a lightweight and often treated him as if he were disappointed in him.

"I desperately wanted to show him that somehow, somewhere along the line, I could cut the mustard," Newman told Time magazine in 1982. One of the great agonies of his life, he said, was that his father died in 1950 without seeing his success.

At 18, Newman enlisted in the Navy, hoping to become a pilot in World War II, but he was rejected for being color blind. He spent three years as a radio operator aboard bombers in the Pacific.

Afterward, he enrolled as a 21-year-old freshman at Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio, where he spent some of his happiest days, playing second-string football, drinking beer and getting into trouble. After a barroom brawl landed him in jail, he was kicked off the team. He turned to acting.

"I was probably one of the worst college actors at the time," Newman said years later. "I learned my lines by rote and simply said them without spontaneity, without knowing what it meant to act and react."

However, novelist E.L. Doctorow, a Kenyon freshman at the time, recalled that "there was no question about his talent." He said Newman was popular for being the leading actor on campus and for the laundry concession he operated.

"He was always entrepreneurial," Doctorow said.

After graduating with a degree in English, Newman acted in summer and winter stock productions in Wisconsin and Illinois, thinking he might eventually teach speech or drama. By then, he had married Jacqueline Witte, a fellow actor, with whom he had three children: Scott, Susan and Stephanie. Scott died in 1978 of an overdose of drugs and alcohol.


“Nobody’s Fool”

One of the tag lines for this movie was “Aged to perfection.” And at 68, the still-sexy Newman gives a totally engaging turn in this quirky 1994 comedy directed by Robert Benton from the novel by Richard Russo. The role of Sully fits Newman like a comfortable pair of old shoes — he’s a charming, heavy drinker who has skirted responsibility most of his life until his grown son (Dylan Walsh), a college professor whose marriage is breaking up, returns home. Perhaps the sweetest scenes in the movie are between Newman and Jessica Tandy — in one of her last films — who plays his landlady. Newman won the New York Film Critics Circle Award for best actor, as well as receiving Oscar, Golden Globe and Screen Actors Guild nominations.


When his father died in 1950, Newman moved home to run the sporting goods store. A year later, the store was sold and he fled to New Haven, Conn., where he briefly studied drama at Yale University, specializing in directing, before trying his luck in New York.

"I was prepared to try it for a year and, if I got nowhere, to go back to Yale and get my degree," he told Lillian and Helen Ross in the book "The Player: A Profile of an Art." "I had no intention of waiting around till I was old and bruised and bitter."

In New York, then the center of live television and the home of the Actors Studio, Newman picked up lessons in Method acting, a technique that stressed naturalism, while he auditioned for parts and sold encyclopedias to support his family. He later attributed everything he knew about acting to the creative community of actors, writers and directors at the studio. Later, he was president and, though it was never made public, financed the institution's operations for seven years when it fell on hard times.

Described as "gorgeous and intense," the young Newman quickly found small parts in television shows, including "You Are There," as well as a role as a rich college graduate in the Broadway production of "Picnic," in which Woodward was an understudy. When he asked to play the lead, a sexy braggart, director Joshua Logan said the actor was unsuitable because he lacked any "sexual threat" -- a challenge Newman met by embarking on a lifelong routine of vigorous workouts to stay in shape.

His marriage deteriorated as he began to attract work and positive reviews while his wife's priorities shifted to the children, according to friends. Newman fell into a period of turmoil in which he and Woodward began an affair.

He was arrested once for running a red light, driving into a bush and leaving the scene of an accident. The breakup of his marriage was drawn out, Stern said, because Newman was so concerned about being fair to his wife and children.His first wife obtained a divorce in Mexico in 1957. A year later, Newman and Woodward married, forming a lasting match that Newman attributed to "correct amounts of lust and respect." The couple had three daughters, Nell, Melissa and Clea.


Paul Newman, a nominee for best actor for his role in "The Hustler," has a wink for his fans as he arrives at the Academy Awards with his wife, Joanne Woodward in 1962.

Despite later rumors that not all was well in their marriage, Stern said they were committed and honored each other's choices in life. Although Woodward once quipped that "a mind is a terrible thing to waste on a Trans Am," Stern said, "they had real reverence for each other's talents and pursuits and idiosyncrasies."

Together they appeared in 11 films, including "The Long Hot Summer," "From the Terrace" and "Mr. and Mrs. Bridge." Newman also directed her in four other films, including the highly respected "Rachel, Rachel," about a schoolteacher whose fears keep her trapped in a small town.

Stern, author of that film's screenplay, said he sometimes observed Newman watching his wife do something that moved him.

"It was the most exposed face of love I've ever looked at," he said. "You couldn't look at it long. It was like opening the wrong door."Hollywood studios recruited Newman in 1954, at a time when the film industry, threatened by live television, hired many of New York's most creative actors, directors and writers. According to Penn, Newman "was emblematic of what was coming, the demand for independence that the next generation brought."

At first, however, Newman, the serious actor, could not avoid beefcake roles because his looks were so devastating. When people saw him, Penn said, they "just fell away."

Newman was particularly humiliated by his first film, "The Silver Chalice," in which he was cast as a toga-clad Greek sculptor with stilted lines. When the film aired for a week in 1963 on television, he took out a black-bordered ad in The Times that said, "Paul Newman apologizes every night this week."


“Absence of Malice”

Newman earned an Oscar nomination for Sydney Pollack’s inspired 1981 drama that examines ethics in journalism. Newman plays Mike Gallagher, the “clean” son of a former Mafia boss who is libeled by an ambitious young Miami newspaper reporter (Sally Field) who writes that he is a suspect in a murder he didn’t commit. At the time of the film’s release, Newman wasn’t shy about talking about his feelings regarding the press: “I would say that 90% of what people read about me in the newspapers is untrue. Ninety percent is garbage ... If nothing’s happening, what do you do? Well, in their case, they make it up.”

Determined not to be just a pretty-boy player for the studio, Newman was among the first actors to buy out his contract with Warner Bros. and later formed his own production companies with colleagues. Newman's penchant for playing a variety of roles reflected "his imagination and his willingness to take a flier," filmmaker John Huston wrote in his memoir, "An Open Book."

The price was a career checkered with miscasting and forgettable roles, including a jazz musician in "Paris Blues," a turn-of-the-century anarchist in "Lady L" and a double agent in "Torn Curtain."

Critics and audiences loved him, however, when he played moody Southerners in films based on Tennessee Williams' plays "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" and "Sweet Bird of Youth." Newman's scheming pool shark in "The Hustler" began a streak of roles that film historians have hailed as capturing the essence of the postwar American man: cool, cynical and confident while the known world of traditional values crumbles around him.

Newman became so popular that he complained later that audiences and critics missed the point in "Hud," a film in which he portrayed the amoral, insolent son of an embattled rancher. Instead of seeing Hud as tragically flawed character who cared only for himself, audiences adored him. He became an anti-hero, especially among teenagers.

Newman struck another nerve in 1967 with "Cool Hand Luke," in which he played a defiant prisoner on a chain gang harassed by sadistic guards. A memorable scene in which Luke wins a bet by eating 50 hard-boiled eggs triggered egg-eating contests at colleges and among soldiers in Vietnam.

In 1969, when he was Hollywood's most popular leading actor, Newman teamed with Redford in "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," a movie about two affable bandits who had outlived their time. The highest-grossing Western in motion picture history, the film highlighted the handsome duo's comic timing. Fans loved the pair's jump off a cliff and still associate the song, "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" with Newman's bicycle stunts.

Redford said it was the most fun on a film he had ever had, and the film cemented a lifelong friendship between the two actors.


Paul Newman passes by a display of his pasta sauces on a visit to the Cantisano Foods plant in Fairport, N.Y., in 1994. The plant manufactures his "Newman's Own" sauces and salsas.

Out of Beverly Hills

If Newman hadn't moved his family away from the glamour and materialism of Beverly Hills to Westport in 1962, he told biographer Eric Lax, he might never have taken up the other things that made his life exciting: politics, racing and a home-grown business.

"It is only when you're away from California that you cannot take yourself seriously" as a movie star, he said.

Throughout the '60s, Newman took high-profile stands against the war in Vietnam. In 1968, he campaigned for antiwar candidate Sen. Eugene McCarthy and was a Connecticut delegate to the Democratic National Convention. The next year, he and Woodward joined an antiwar demonstration in front of the American Embassy in London.

Newman knew his actions were not always popular, and he told the New York Times Magazine in 1966, "A person without character has no enemies." Friends said he was delighted in 1973 when he was listed as No. 19 on Nixon's enemies list, claiming it elevated him in the eyes of his children.

Newman argued politics genially, friends said, and openly admired some conservatives. In 1994, he helped his brother Arthur, a staunch Republican, wage a successful campaign for a City Council seat in Rancho Mirage.

In the late '70s, bored with acting, Newman fell into a slump that paved the way for what has been called one of the most successful career transitions in movie history.

Intrigued by racing after making the film "Winning" in 1969, Newman began planning film shoots around his racing schedule. His focus, athleticism and knowledge quickly won over skeptics who were used to dilettante actors hanging around the track, said champion driver Mario Andretti.

"If he would have started earlier, he would have been just as successful as his acting, no question," Andretti said. When Newman formed his own team, the Newman-Haas Hass Indy Car, Andretti raced for him for 12 years.

Reinvigorated, Newman returned to acting, exploring character roles with new and unexpected depth. Critic Pauline Kael called Newman's portrayal of a washed-up ice hockey coach in "Slap Shot," a 1977 comedy, "casual American star-acting at its peak." In the 1980s, he became active in the Actors Studio in New York, contributing funds and serving as president of the board.


“The Road to Perdition”

Newman earned his first supporting actor Oscar and Golden Globe nomination for this 2002 gangster film directed by Sam Mendes.Set in the early 1930s in Chicago, the film revolves around mob enforcer Michael Sullivan (Tom Hanks), who works for the big boss, John Rooney (Newman). Rooney is also a surrogate father to Sullivan, much to the chagrin of Rooney’s own conniving son, Connor (Daniel Craig). The scenes between Hanks and Newman, especially when Michael confronts Rooney for siding with his weak-willed son instead of him, are masterfully performed.


In 1981, Newman was nominated for an Oscar for his role in "Absence of Malice," as a businessman libeled by Sally Field's gung-ho young reporter, whose story leads to his friend's suicide.

Another nomination followed for his portrayal of an alcoholic lawyer redeemed by his pursuit of justice in 1982's "The Verdict."

When Newman finally won an Oscar in 1986 for "The Color of Money," it was neither his nor director Scorsese's best effort and was seen by some observers as compensation for having been overlooked in "The Hustler."

Wanting to avoid another public defeat, Newman stayed home for the ceremony. Later, he said of the win: "It's like chasing a beautiful woman for 80 years. She finally relents and you say, 'I'm terribly sorry, I'm tired.' "His real-life role as a model Hollywood philanthropist began just before Christmas 1980 when he and his friend A.E. Hotchner made a batch of salad dressing in a bathtub to bottle for friends.

Newman was as much a perfectionist about his cooking as his art, friends said. "He knew the exact amount of fat that goes into the perfect hamburger," Stern said. "In his salads, he sliced the celery the exact width."

In restaurants, Newman was known to ask for olive oil, vinegar, chopped celery, salt, pepper and mustard to make his own dressing. On one occasion, when waiters at the legendary Beverly Hills restaurant Chasen's wouldn't comply, he took the salad into the men's room and washed their dressing off. "They brought the stuff he wanted, and he made the dressing," Stern said.

Newman told reporters he never imagined the dressing would be sold nationally, but after the Christmas leftovers were given to gourmet shops, the lark became a challenge.

When it became clear the dressing could make a profitable business, especially with his face on the label, Newman decided to give back some of what luck and the world had given him.

"It was a spur-of-the-moment thing -- 'Let's just do this and give it all away,' " his daughter Nell told the New York Times in 1998.

Newman and Hotchner wrote witty labels to go with the company's motto: "Shameless exploitation in pursuit of the common good," which later became the name of their book that describes their adventures in business.

The company grew to produce many products, including popcorn, salsas, pasta sauces, marinades and Woodward's "Old Fashioned Roadside Virgin Lemonade."


“The Sting”

Newman’s post-“Butch” films were pretty tepid. Thankfully, he teamed with Redford and director Hill for this delectable 1973 caper film, which won a slew of Academy Awards, including best film, director and screenplay. The two play con men in the 1930s who pull the ultimate scam to take down a ruthless gangster (Robert Shaw), who had caused the death of their friend.


In 2006, he opened Dressing Room: A Homegrown Restaurant to benefit the Westport Country Playhouse, one of Newman and Woodward's favorite projects.

As a result of his business success, Newman donated more than $250 million to 1,000 groups, including the Scott Newman Center devoted to anti-drug education and several Hole in the Wall Gang camps, designed for children with life-threatening diseases, with locations in France, Ireland and Israel as well as the U.S. Every summer, Newman stayed at the original camp in Ashford, Conn., where he told ghost stories and staged shows with other celebrities for children who knew him only as the face on the lemonade carton.

"If I leave a legacy," he said in 2006, "it will be the camps."

This year, he turned up at a meeting of parents and children at the first camp and reportedly said: "I wanted to acknowledge luck. The beneficence of it in many lives and the brutality of it in the lives of others, especially children, who might not have a lifetime to make up for it."

Rather than hiring grant officers, friends say, Newman and Hotchner choose the charities themselves in a casual way. Newman once wrote a check on the spot for someone who knocked on his door saying the local fire department needed a new fire engine, said Navasky, the Nation magazine editor.

Despite his fears that actors risk corruption by placing a "premium on appearance," Newman valued keeping himself fit. He did push ups and ran up and down stairs until he was 80. He soaked his face in ice water or would swim in a cold lake when he could.

Newman played sexy senior roles into his 70s with films such as "Twilight" and moved on to cantankerous father parts in "Message in a Bottle" and the TV film "Empire Falls." He was nominated for a Tony as the stage manager in a Broadway revival of "Our Town" and an Emmy for a taped TV version.

After "Road to Perdition," he did voice work for the animated film "Cars" in 2006.

Newman didn't hide his disappointment that filmmaking had abandoned the "theater of the mind" for the "theater of the senses." He lamented that skyrocketing costs had increased the pressure on actors, writers and producers who could no longer afford to make mistakes and be part of a "growing-up process."

In 1997, he hinted he was struggling, explaining to National Public Radio's Daniel Zwerdling that "sometimes you begin to lose your center. . . . You become a collection of the successful mannerisms of the characters you play. . . . What you try to do is get rid of those successful mannerisms, get back to what you are at the core of your own personality."


From left, Paul Newman, Carl Haas and Graham Rahal at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway in 2008. Newman and Haas were racing team owners, and Rahal their driver.

In 2007, Newman announced his decision to retire, saying he'd lost confidence in his abilities, that acting was "pretty much a closed book for me."

Besides Doc Hudson, the animated Hornet voiced by Newman in the film "Cars," he called the role of Sully in 1994's "Nobody's Fool" the closest he had come to playing himself. Critics called Sully a "classic Newman type" -- an aging version of a witty loner who keeps friends and family at a distance to protect himself. A bond with his fearful little grandson opens up the possibility of becoming more involved with an estranged son and the rest of the community.

"The most Paul moment," Stern said, "is when he sees the crazy lady down the street and offers his arm and walks her back home as if she were a queen. That's how I'll always remember Paul: dignifying other people."

In addition to his wife of 50 years, Newman is survived by daughters Susan, Stephanie, Nell, Melissa and Clea; two grandchildren; and his brother Arthur.

His family suggests donations in his name to the Assn. of Hole in the Wall Camps.

Information: http://www.holeinthewallcamps.org/.

lynn.smith@latimes.com